Hua Chongyang understood perfectly well that everyone unanimously believed Lan Wuxie was responsible for the deaths of Alliance Leader Rong and Yue Feilong. Lan Wuxie's presence here today meant either a devastating loss to the martial world or his own death. She even considered the possibility that she herself might be killed by Lan Wuxie. What she never expected was that Lan Wuxie possessed Zu Xian's voice, Zu Xian's demeanor, and Zu Xian's tender, affectionate eyes. Regret for her foolishness was too late. Unarmed, she instinctively reached out to block Rong Chenfei's sword aimed at Lan Wuxie. Lan Wuxie suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to turn and shield her. Hua Chongyang remained unusually calm, steadying herself, her mind racing—
"With this sword strike, he will die."
28. Zu Xian
The sword thrust forward swiftly. Hua Chongyang closed her eyes, the ambiguous and tender voice that had been pressed against her back the night before echoing in her mind:
"...Chongyang, your waist is so slender."
I felt a sharp pain in my chest and lower back at the same time.
With a "clang".
Hua Chongyang opened her eyes and saw the sword in Rong Chenfei's hand fall at her feet, with a piece of porcelain bowl shards on the ground beside her.
What knocked the sword from Rong Chenfei's hand was actually a teacup. She turned around and saw Situ Qingliu, standing in the center of the hall, slowly lowering his right hand, his gaze cold as he looked at Lan Wuxie:
"Lan Wuxie murdered the innocent Alliance Leader Rong and Sect Leader Yue. Today, everyone must seek justice for the deceased."
Before the words were even finished, the leaders and disciples of various sects in the hall seemed to have received an order and attacked together.
Lan Wuxie suddenly pushed her far back and turned to face a barrage of swords.
The situation changed too quickly. Hua Chongyang looked at Situ Qingliu, who was dressed in noble clothes but had a cold expression, in the center of the hall with a slight daze. Then, without thinking, he turned over and picked up Rong Chenfei's sword from the ground.
All the swords and blades were pointed directly at Lan Wuxie. His black sleeves fluttered, tangling with the oncoming blades and sword light, and in moments Lan Wuxie was covered in blood. The shouts of battle blended together, and before anyone knew it, more than a dozen masked men in black had joined the fray. Some were on Lan Wuxie's side, while others were attacking him. Hua Chongyang couldn't tell which side was which, so she could only protect Lan Wuxie. Her arms and body were slashed countless times, but she didn't care about wiping the blood; she only wanted to protect the person behind her. In the chaos of battle, someone knocked the sword out of her hand, hooked her waist, restrained her arms, and dragged her away. Hua Chongyang struggled and looked back, only to see that the person who pulled her out of the chaotic sword formation was Situ Qingliu.
Standing at the entrance of the hall, Situ Qingliu pressed her pressure points, put one arm around her waist, and coldly watched the battle. Then he shouted:
"Listen up, everyone. Whoever captures Lan Wuxie alive, you can do whatever you want with him."
At first, Hua Chongyang didn't understand what he meant, but as soon as he finished shouting, one of the men in black who had been protecting Lan Wuxie suddenly turned against him, brandishing his sword at Lan Wuxie. Lan Wuxie took a sword to the arm and deflected it with his sleeve. However, Bo Jiang, who had been standing not far away, suddenly stepped forward and shouted fiercely at the fighting crowd:
"Idiot! You think if we capture him alive, he'll really let us do whatever we want with him? If he dies, will you live?! You don't even understand this basic logic!"
Hua Chongyang had no time to ponder the deeper meaning of those words; her acupoints sealed, she could only lean against Situ Qingliu. Surrounded by a group of people, Lan Wuxie stared intently at her. He seemed oblivious to the swords slashing at his back, continuing his charge towards the front of the hall. His blood-soaked black robes tumbled and spun in the air, and another person was blasted several feet away by his force, falling to the ground in pieces.
Situ Qingliu raised his hand to cover her eyes and whispered in her ear:
"Don't look."
Hua Chongyang closed her eyes, then opened them again, tears streaming down her face. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the sounds of swords and spears gradually subsided. She raised her hand, her fingers gripping Situ Qingliu's wrist as he held her.
"Your Highness, please let me go."
The hand that was supporting her waist suddenly tightened. Hua Chongyang raised his hand and removed the hand that was covering her eyes, the one wearing the white jade thumb ring.
All I could see were corpses.
Lan Wuxie stood straight in front of the hall, sword in hand, staring intently at Hua Chongyang. Blood flowed down his sleeves onto the sword in his hand, then slowly dripped from the tip; his lips were stained with crimson blood. He stood among several men in black, looking at the corpses scattered on the ground, his expression cold and unchanged.
Only a few sect leaders remained surrounding Lan Wuxie, each heavily injured, yet they cautiously guarded against Lan Wuxie and the group of men in black, each armed with weapons.
Standing at the very front, Ji Chong looked at Situ Qingliu with questioning eyes, as if waiting for him to make a decision on whether or not to charge forward again.
From the beginning, Bo Jiang believed that Lan Wuxie was about to collapse, but now, with corpses strewn all over the ground, he couldn't immediately determine just how high Lan Wuxie's martial arts skills were. He originally thought that overwhelming the enemy with numbers would be foolproof, and Bo Jiang had already sent two of his men to deplete his internal energy. Who knew that Lan Wuxie could hold on until now?
Just how powerful is that Yellow Springs Martial Arts Manual?
No wonder everyone in the martial arts world wants it, and even the imperial court is wary of Lanying Palace.
In the tense standoff, no one noticed Bo Jiang quietly moving closer to the hall, a long whip lashing viciously at Hua Chongyang. Situ Qingliu realized it was too late; he only needed to push Hua Chongyang away. Bo Jiang threw away the whip, leaped forward, grabbed Hua Chongyang's neck, and swiftly pressed a dagger against Hua Chongyang's neck, turning to Lan Wuxie:
"Lan Wuxie, if you dare to make a move, I will kill her!"
The blade of the dagger pressed into Hua Chongyang's neck, drawing blood.
Bo Jiang, dressed in blood-stained red, his long hair disheveled and piled on his forehead and neck, his once clear, peach-blossom eyes now glared fiercely, stained with blood. Situ Qingliu took a step forward, and Bo Jiang immediately pressed the dagger in his hand even tighter, roaring:
"Back off! Back off!"
Situ Qingliu quickly stepped back a few paces, staring at Bo Jiang:
"Miss Bo, please don't do anything rash."
Bo Jiang glanced at him, then suddenly sneered:
"Reckless? Your Highness, I am perfectly sober. We are already outnumbered and no one here can defeat Lan Wuxie. If we don't act this way, how can we survive! If it weren't for your feelings for Hua Chongyang, I'm afraid it would be you, not me, holding this dagger!"
Situ Qingliu's expression was cold, and he suddenly raised an eyebrow.
Bo Jiang glanced at him, then suppressed his cold smile and looked at Lan Wuxie:
"Lan Wuxie, put down your sword."
Lan Wuxie stared at her coldly, remaining motionless, and after a long while spoke in a cold voice:
"Since when did it become your turn to blackmail me?"
Hua Chongyang, whose neck was being held by Bo Jiang, could clearly feel her hand holding the dagger begin to tremble.
For some reason, she just felt that Bo Jiang was terrified of Lan Wuxie, so much so that it seemed he couldn't feel at ease until he killed him. At that moment, Bo Jiang stopped trembling and pressed the dagger down hard.
"If you don't die, then she'll have to die."
A sharp pain pierced her neck. Hua Chongyang could almost feel warm blood slowly flowing down her neck and into her chest. Amidst the throbbing pain, she looked up at Lan Wuxie, who stood opposite her, covered in blood. She saw him press his hand to his chest and cough heavily. Blood gushed from his mouth as he coughed, splashing onto his chest. After a long while, he suppressed his cough and spoke in a hoarse voice:
"...Don't be afraid on Chongyang Festival."
Tears streamed uncontrollably down Hua Chongyang's face, quickly covering her cheeks. Lan Wuxie looked at her, a faint smile playing on his blood-stained lips, and raised his hand as if to wipe away her tears.
As he spoke, the sword in his hand suddenly flew out.
The longsword flashed past Hua Chongyang's ear, then grazed Bo Jiang's left wrist as he gripped the dagger. The dagger fell to the ground, and Lan Wuxie leaped up, striking Bo Jiang with a palm strike. Bo Jiang's guard, attempting to block, swung his sword, which shattered into three pieces upon impact, the force sending Bo Jiang flying five or six feet away. Lan Wuxie reached out, caught Hua Chongyang, spun him around, and brought him to his feet.
A group of people were eyeing them menacingly. Lan Wuxie, seemingly oblivious to their presence, took off his robe and draped it over Hua Chongyang's shoulders. His long, blood-stained fingers wiped away the tears on her face, and a smile crept onto his lips again.
"...Don't cry."
As his voice faded, Lan Wuxie collapsed onto Hua Chongyang's back after uttering the last word. A commotion erupted outside the hall as the disciples and leaders of various sects raised their weapons. Hua Chongyang, supporting Lan Wuxie with one hand and gripping his sword with the other, took a half-step forward, coldly raising an eyebrow:
"If you want to kill him, you'll have to step over my dead body first."
A profound silence fell over the hall and the surrounding area. After a long while, Ji Chong spoke solemnly:
"...Chongyang, Lan Wuxie is ruthless and cruel; he is evil, not good!"
Hua Chongyang raised his sword and turned to look outside the hall:
Whether he is good or evil, what does it matter to me?
"He has endangered the martial arts world, attempted to assassinate a prince, and acted arrogantly. He will surely stir up bloodshed and chaos in the martial arts world in the future, bringing disaster to the entire realm!"
"Calamity upon the world?" Hua Chongyang chuckled lightly. "What does the fate of the world have to do with me?"
"Hua Chongyang, you!"
"How am I, Uncle Ji?" Hua Chongyang held his sword, a faint smile playing on his lips, and said softly, "Having lived this long, besides my mother, he is the one who loves me the most in this world. He combs my hair, takes off my boots, and shields me from swords with his own body. He always thinks about my well-being and is afraid I'll cry. I don't know what the world is; but even if I betray the world, I will never betray him."
Ji Chong's expression changed drastically.
As dusk settled, palace lanterns were lit in the distance, their dim candlelight dispelling the somber atmosphere of the deserted Lake Moon Manor. A dozen or so disciples of the Orchid Shadow Palace had entered the manor and now stood silently a short distance outside the hall. Situ Qingliu, who had been standing at the entrance to the hall, stood in the shadows of the windowpane, speaking slowly without turning his head:
"Let them go."
"No! Your Highness!" Bo Jiang, who was clutching his wrist, suddenly turned to Hua Chongyang. "We can't let them go! Lan Wuxie will never let us off easily in the future!"
Situ Qingliu didn't answer, but simply waved his hand. Several sect leaders at the hall entrance stepped back, weapons in hand. Hua Chongyang helped Lan Wuxie walk out of the hall with difficulty, step by step. Lan Ying Palace disciples quickly surrounded them and helped Lan Wuxie into the sedan chair.
This was the first time Hua Chongyang had entered through the back door of Banlianzui.
The sedan chair stopped, and she helped Lan Wuxie down into the garden. First, there was a small courtyard; beyond that was the Banlianzui Garden. A few scattered candlelight flickered in the distance along the corridors; the red palace lanterns added to the solitude rather than creating a lively atmosphere. Blood continued to flow from Lan Wuxie's lips, yet his steps remained steady until he entered the house, at which point he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. Hua Chongyang hurriedly helped him onto the wooden couch, grabbed a white silk ribbon from the table, and wiped the blood from his lips. Lan Wuxie opened his eyes, looked at her, raised his arm to grasp her hand, and then slowly closed his eyes again.
"...Double Ninth Festival?"
"Yes, I'm here."
A faint smile played on Lan Wuxie's lips, the bloodstains on his lips contrasting with the faint mole on his pale cheek, highlighting his frail vulnerability. Blood welled up from the corner of his mouth again, and Hua Chongyang wiped it away for him, tears streaming down her face as she said:
"Don't die."
"……Um."
Just then, the door was pushed open, and Anping came in. He approached the wooden bed, looked at Lan Wuxie on the bed, and immediately turned pale. He handed the medicine in his hand to Hua Chongyang.
"Miss Chongyang, quickly feed this to your master."
Hua Chongyang took the bowl, glanced at the delirious Lan Wuxie, and held it to his lips; Lan Wuxie frowned and turned his face away.
"...It's so bitter."
Hua Chongyang didn't know whether to cry or laugh. He tilted his head back, took a swig of medicine, and then lowered his head to feed it into the other man's mouth.
The face held in the palm of her hand was as pale as paper, yet excessively beautiful. A faint widow's peak marked her broad, flat forehead, her long eyebrows slanted towards her temples, and she had a pointed chin and thin lips. Her closed eyes were shaped like "Zu Xian's," and even with them closed, the slightly upturned corners of her eyes seemed to bewitch people.
Looking at that face, Hua Chongyang recalled the gossip she had heard on the street. The courtesans who came down from Lan Wuxie's painted boat would tell everyone that Lan Wuxie's face was stunningly beautiful, and no other man in the world could match it. But back then, the man she knew was still Zu Xian. His disguised face, though not ugly, was not particularly outstanding either. Only his eyes, when he looked at her, were so gentle that they seemed to melt her heart.
The events that occurred at Lake Moon Manor that day spread throughout the streets and alleys the very next day. Situ Qingliu had abandoned Hua Chongyang to marry Bo Jiang, causing Hua Chongyang to cause trouble, and Lan Wuxie took the opportunity to kill many martial arts masters; many people also condemned Situ Qingliu, blaming him for provoking Hua Chongyang, which led to this predicament—hearing this, Hua Chongyang suddenly felt somewhat sorry for Situ Qingliu, who had been unfairly burdened with so much blame, it was truly difficult for him.
The wonton stall at the street corner was packed with people, but not many were eating wontons; most were engrossed in listening to gossip. One fat man, with a bowl of wontons beside him, excitedly recounted the story with great enthusiasm:
"So many martial arts masters couldn't kill him, so who in the world could possibly kill him? Lan Wuxie is undoubtedly the best in the world."
"Wasn't it said that the 'Azure Heaven Heart Sutra' was in Hua Chongyang's hands? If Hua Chongyang returns to Lanying Palace, wouldn't Lan Wuxie be invincible?"
"Those who saw Lan Wuxie that day all said he was the most handsome man in the world."
"Yes, yes, yes! Just by looking at him with the mask on, you can tell he must be incredibly handsome. Without the mask, he'd probably be even more alluring!"
Hua Chongyang sat at the very edge of the crowd, letting the words go in one ear and out the other, quickly finishing a bowl of wontons, then patting the table:
"Aba, collect the money."
A boy with triangular eyes and a wicked look jumped over and glanced at her sideways:
"I don't care about money. Do you want it or not?"
"...Really, it's free?"
Aba scoffed, "Really not. Look at you, so pathetic."
"Since that's the case," Hua Chongyang said, rubbing his stomach and lowering his voice, "...give me another bowl."
She was very hungry.
Lan Wuxie vomited blood incessantly throughout the night, and the medicine he drank was repeatedly vomited up. Hua Chongyang had no choice but to feed him again and again. Nearly ten braziers were lit under the wooden bed, but he was still ice-cold all over. Hua Chongyang almost thought he was going to die, so in the end he had to take off his clothes, climb onto the wooden bed, and hug him tightly.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, trying to warm him up. The same broad shoulders and slender waist, even the feeling of holding him was the same. She held him all night, feeling as if she were back with Zu Xian, the two of them relying on each other for warmth and security. As dawn approached, Lan Wuxie finally warmed up and stopped coughing up blood, and Hua Chongyang's heart finally settled. But after spending the night with that stunning face, exhausted and having overcome his initial fear, Hua Chongyang felt that he was no longer the Zu Xian he once was.