Chapter 178: Freedom Roams: Forget the Sword!
Faced with Chen Hong’s enthusiastic attention, Zhu Fei responded with a mix of demure smiles and playful banter, leading the young master of the Humble Treasures Pavilion to believe she was interested in him.
“It’s getting late,” he said, “Do you have a place to stay, Miss Zhu? My Humble Treasures Pavilion has a manor nearby. Perhaps you would honor me with your presence tonight?”
Zhu Fei glanced at the young man who sat beside her, eating and drinking, and hesitated, “Well…”
Chen Hong, as if only just noticing him, looked over, “And this is…?”
Zhu Fei lowered her head, her voice soft and mournful, “Thank you for your kindness, Master Chen, but I… I can’t. I have… some personal matters to attend to.” She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.
Seeing her distress, Chen Hong glared at the young man, assuming he was coercing her.
He looked at the young man, his voice sharp, “I am Chen Hong of the Humble Treasures Pavilion. May I ask your name?”
The young man looked at him, “Huh? Are you talking to me?”
He meant, Even if you ask, I don’t know.
Chen Hong, however, mistook his confusion for arrogance, as if he was saying, “You’re not worthy of knowing my name.”
Enraged, he attacked, his finger thrusting forward, splitting into nine blurry afterimages, aimed at the young man’s vital points.
Chen Hong, having trained under a renowned master since childhood, was now an eighth-rank martial artist. His Nine Blossom Plum Technique, its movements fluid and unpredictable, was a powerful attack.
But the young man simply raised his hand and caught his wrist, pushing it down, “What are you doing?”
Chen Hong was stunned. Zhu Fei, watching the young man’s hand, her eyes flickering, couldn’t discern his technique. She continued her act, her voice soft and pleading, “Please leave, Master Chen. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Zhu Fei was a member of the Flower Butterfly Sect, a demonic sect known for its beautiful and seductive members. Their disciples weren’t allowed to leave the sect until they reached the mid-ranks.
They were a secretive faction, their members often posing as righteous martial artists or disciples of renowned sects, seducing and manipulating their targets before discarding them.
Intrigued by this young man, wanting to learn his background, she had provoked Chen Hong into attacking.
She hadn’t expected Chen Hong to use a high-level technique, and she was surprised by the young man’s effortless defense, catching his wrist with a simple movement.
The young man’s casual defense revealed nothing about his skills or his background. So, she continued her act.
Chen Hong, seeing the beautiful woman’s distress, her pleas for him to leave, her concern for his safety, his anger intensified.
He drew his sword, leaped into the air, and unleashed a flurry of sword strikes, thirty-six flashes of light, targeting the young man’s vital points.
Zhu Fei, pretending to weep, watched from the corner of her eye, inwardly impressed. This young master of the Humble Treasures Pavilion was indeed skilled.
His Life Stealing Flower Rain technique, clearly taught by a master, was a powerful attack, each of the thirty-six sword flowers a potential fatal blow.
Chen Hong himself was also pleased with his performance, having never executed the technique so flawlessly. Driven by his desire to protect the beautiful woman, he had surpassed his usual level of skill, unleashing his full power.
Zhu Fei thought, Against such a powerful attack, he’ll either use his mid-rank cultivation to project his energy outwards, revealing his sect’s techniques, or he’ll use an equally powerful sword technique, revealing his background.
But the young man simply raised his chopsticks and, with a single, casual tap, disrupted Chen Hong’s attack, the thirty-six sword flowers dissipating as Chen Hong was thrown backwards, crashing against a wall.
Zhu Fei’s eyes widened… She still couldn’t discern his style.
She had seen him use chopsticks as a sword, a simple, unassuming movement that had somehow neutralized Chen Hong’s intricate and powerful technique.
It was as if he had struck the trunk of a tree, its branches and leaves withering instantly.
Chen Hong’s near-perfect Life Stealing Flower Rain had been effortlessly defeated.
Shi Hao, although having spent a “year” learning swordsmanship in the Celestial Realm, mastering countless techniques, still hadn’t grasped the concept of “sword intent,” as the Holy Jade Immortal had pointed out.
What was sword intent? He had pondered this question during his travels, but he still didn’t understand.
Everyone’s sword intent was unique. What was his sword intent?
He possessed undeniable talent. His rapid progress in both Daoist and demonic cultivation, under the tutelage of the Holy Jade Immortal and Su Mei, had astonished them both.
However, the greater his talent for learning, the more difficult it was for him to grasp these abstract concepts.
But now, fueled by the Blood Poison, his mind clouded, he had forgotten all the techniques he had learned.
He didn’t know what to do, didn’t even remember the techniques he knew.
But those countless sword techniques, ingrained in his memory, resurfaced instinctively.
Facing Chen Hong’s attack, he had forgotten the sword, yet also found it, transcending his limitations, his intent guiding his movements, his body and sword becoming one.
His simple, unassuming strike, a distillation of countless techniques, a culmination of his training, was undeniably a display of mastery.
Chen Hong, slumped against the wall, stared at the young man holding the chopsticks, his face filled with shock and disbelief.
He had lost, but he didn’t understand how.
How had such a simple move defeated his most powerful technique?
A chill ran down his spine… What kind of swordsmanship was that?
Zhu Fei was also stunned. If the young man had used his superior cultivation, that would have been one thing.
But he hadn’t. The power behind his strike had been minimal, far less than Chen Hong’s.
Yet, it had effortlessly neutralized his attack.
This young man, barely twenty, younger than even her, possessed an incredible level of skill.
The young man, having defeated Chen Hong with a single “sword strike,” picked up another pair of chopsticks and resumed eating, as if nothing had happened.
Chen Hong’s face, however, flushed red, then white, his humiliation evident.
His most powerful technique, executed flawlessly, had been effortlessly defeated. He knew he was no match for this young man.
But the beautiful woman was in distress; he couldn’t just abandon her.
“You’ll pay for this!” he shouted, pointing at the young man, “Just you wait!”
He turned and ran down the stairs, then suddenly grunted.
Zhu Fei saw him fly back up the stairs, crashing against the wall with a thud.
This time, he coughed up blood and collapsed, unconscious.
She looked towards the staircase and saw a young man in a brocade robe ascending.
He had a narrow forehead, thick eyebrows, a pointed chin, and muscular arms.
A barbarian general in full armor followed him. And downstairs, the restaurant was surrounded by barbarian soldiers, Chen Hong’s servants pushed aside.
Zhu Fei’s mind raced. She recognized the general. It was Qiyan Bao, a fifth-rank expert in the barbarian army.
A fifth-rank general held a high position in the military. The fact that he was following this young man suggested the young man’s status was even higher.
And Chen Hong had clearly run into him on the stairs, his hasty retreat colliding with the young man’s ascent. He had been thrown back by a single blow, a display of powerful external martial arts.
This meant the young man was also a mid-rank expert.
Zhu Fei saw the young man glance at her, his gaze, however, not lingering.
He snorted, then looked at her again, a flicker of… admiration in his eyes, then turned and walked to another table.
“Shopkeeper, menu!” Qiyan Bao shouted down the stairs.
“Coming, sir, coming!” The shopkeeper, not daring to offend them, hurried up the stairs and presented the menu to the young man in the brocade robe.
The young man took the menu and ordered several dishes and wine.
As the shopkeeper turned to leave, shouts and the sounds of fighting came from downstairs.
Qiyan Bao, annoyed, started to descend the stairs, but the young man said calmly, “This is their establishment. We’re just guests. Tell them to stop blocking the entrance. They won’t be able to stop them anyway.”
Qiyan Bao shouted, “Let them in.”
Two men ascended the stairs, one large and burly, the other, although clearly a man, with an effeminate demeanor.
Zhu Fei’s heart sank. As a demonic cultivator herself, she recognized them.
They were Li Ximing, the Three Extremes Ghost Butcher, and Ghost Howl, the Yin Yang Ghostly Specter, both from the Ghost Extreme Sect.
The Ghost Extreme Sect was the most powerful demonic sect. Although they had suffered heavy losses in Dàxīng City, even losing their leader, they were still a formidable force, and these two alone were dangerous opponents.
And as they reached the upper floor, they both glanced at the young man beside her before finding seats.
This made Zhu Fei even more curious about his identity.
Who was he?
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