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Uncle Yin was not a disciple of the Yan Clan. Before being taken in by the sect leader, he was a pair of swordsmen who roamed the northern deserts, and countless masters died tragically under his swords.

The once wild and ruthless swordsman is now... pitifully the second young master's nanny.

Shu Jun suddenly gripped the sword about halfway down the blade and held it horizontally against his chest.

This is an extremely strange posture. As the saying goes, "An inch shorter, an inch more dangerous." For most martial arts practitioners, long weapons are the best, as they can be used for both offense and defense, keeping the enemy outside the range of the weapon.

Short weapons require extremely high close-range skills from the practitioner; no one would deliberately use a long sword as a short sword when they already possess one.

Moreover, holding the sword with bare hands is tantamount to courting death.

His palm immediately turned red, and blood flowed down the blade of the sword.

"Hey," Shu Jun suddenly said, "You idiot over there, close your eyes and don't peek."

Fool... you mean him? Mo Yunqing was extremely shocked, but now she both respected and feared this person, and dared not disobey, so she obediently closed her eyes.

“I have never revealed my lineage to anyone. Yin San, you’re lucky.”

After saying that, Shu Jun smiled slightly, his thick and handsome eyebrows giving off a "you're going to be in trouble" look.

****

The severed right hand was carefully picked up, the blood was washed away, and it was placed in a crystal box.

Yan Yufei touched the bandage on her right wrist with one hand. Touching it caused a sharp pain. Bloodstains were faintly visible through the bandage, drying into a patch on the outside.

He sat blankly for a whole night staring at his severed hand. Occasionally, he would suddenly forget what had happened and want to pick up a pen to write, only to remember that he had lost his right hand forever.

Did he regret it? He didn't know what to feel.

In fact, he didn't need to act impulsively. He could have left the task of stopping Ge Yichun to Uncle Yin, who would have done a better job.

He regrets it, yet he doesn't repent.

He regretted his impulsiveness, his desire to fight her for the sake of his deceased uncle, and his regret that he lost to her using the same move again.

He had no regrets; he couldn't entrust this task to anyone else, he had to do it himself.

This... involves dignity, his dignity, and his uncle's dignity.

In any case, it's no use thinking about it now; the severed hand can never be reattached.

As long as Ge Yichun's severed wrist remained, he would never forget her swift and decisive sword strike. To her, that strike must have been incredibly exhilarating.

Ge Yichun, Ge Yichun, Ge Yichun...

He repeated the name in his mind over and over again, as if hearing it for the first time, from unfamiliar to familiar.

What is right, and what is wrong?

If she is right, he is wrong; if she is white, he is black. And vice versa.

No one will admit they are wrong.

The sky brightened, illuminating the ashen color in his eyes.

In that instant, he seemed to see his uncle, covered in blood and weeping, telling him: I regret it so much, don't follow my path.

Yan Yufei abruptly closed his sore eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Uncle Yin standing outside the door, covered in blood and pale-faced.

Yan Yufei was slightly startled and whispered, "What?"

Uncle Yin, still looking shocked, suddenly stared at him blankly and murmured, "It's Shu Chang... He's Shu Chang's son..."

Yan Yufei's heart sank into an abyss in an instant.

Shu Chang—this name is taboo within the Yan Clan. For years, they have exhausted all their resources to find him and issue warrants for his arrest, but to no avail.

Looking across the entire martial arts world, Shu Chang is completely unknown; no more than five sects have even heard of him.

Yet this unknown man was able to kill the young master of the Yan Clan with a single sword strike, and then leave singing, with no one able to catch him.

Shu Chang, Shu Jun... They clearly share the same surname, yet no one has ever doubted it, simply because Shu Jun rarely reveals his skills, and no one can tell which school of martial arts he belongs to.

Uncle Yin unbuttoned his clothes, revealing five blood spots on his chest, shaped like plum blossoms. Each stab was shallow, indicating that the other party had shown mercy; otherwise, he would have been killed on the spot.

Back then, Yan Qingchuan was pierced through the heart by a sword, and there were five plum blossom-shaped blood spots around his heart.

Such a familiar wound, such a shocking truth.

Yan Yufei suddenly stood up from his chair.

Uncle Yin said urgently, "Young Master!"

Yan Yufei's face was as white as ice and snow. After a long while, he slowly sat back down and said in a low voice, "Uncle Yin, has the Yan family... done anything wrong?"

Uncle Yin said resolutely, "It is only natural for a man to accomplish great things in this world. How can there be any right or wrong in this!"

Yan Yufei nodded slowly, turned his head away, and after a while said, "Pass down the word—we will evacuate Hunan tomorrow, and we should not concern ourselves with the matter of Jianlan Manor for now."

Upon receiving the order, Uncle Yin covered his wound and was about to leave when he heard him continue, "Regarding Shu Jun... we have sealed a letter and informed the sect leader. Before he replies, no one is allowed to make any rash moves."

Uncle Yin nodded silently: "Young Master, you should rest for a few days."

A severed hand is no minor injury; he was already deathly pale.