The tall and burly Murong Longshui fixed her eyes on this extraordinary figure who had appeared out of nowhere. In the court of Liyang, free speech was tightly controlled, and only a few rumors had slipped through the cracks. Thus, discussions about the heir of Beiliang were mostly superficial, revolving around his arrogance in Tai’an City and his conflicts with the students of the Imperial Academy. But in Beiman, things were entirely different. Because of this man’s journey to Beiman, the entire region had been thrown into chaos. Murong Longshui and her longtime rival, the man surnamed Yelü, had both become intrigued by the martial artists of Liyang, prompting them to personally travel south. Regardless of whether this man had used underhanded methods to kill Diwu Mo, Murong Longshui deeply admired him. Putting herself in his shoes, she knew that facing Tuoba Chunsun, protected by two mighty demons wielding the Rainbow Serpent Thunder Spear, she would have only a slim chance of survival. Murong Longshui hesitated slightly, gazing at this weary young man before her, his lips cracked from long travel. Before this inevitable life-or-death battle, she smiled and tossed an orange from her palm, thinking it would be a fine tale for survivors to toast over later if he accepted it gracefully, ate it, and then fought, embodying a fearless and gallant spirit. Unexpectedly, the orange exploded midair, splattering Murong Longshui with its juice. Furrowing her thick brows, she thought this heir of Beiliang was far too petty.
The martial world of men is mostly black, white, and gray; yet a woman who enters this world carries dreams more colorful and vivid. Murong Longshui was no exception.
Yijie Liu saw Murong Longshui’s embarrassment and felt a surge of amusement, his mind filled with the absurd image of a handsome young man being pinned beneath a two-hundred-pound female warrior and beaten into a swollen mess.
La’e had no such whimsy. He moved steadily, calm and composed. The current situation was a golden opportunity for the three of them—the prince was slowed by a severely injured girl, making things even easier than fighting all three at once.
Yijie Liu leapt onto a branch of a nearby orange tree, scanning the horizon to ensure no large cavalry units were approaching. When playing on someone else’s turf, one must always be cautious.
After landing, Xu Fengnian took a deep breath and charged straight toward the nearest Murong Longshui, weaving through several orange trees that stood bare and blood-red in the winter chill. Though Murong Longshui’s figure seemed bulky, like a gender-swapped Chu Lushan, when Xu Fengnian lunged, she met him head-on. Unlike Xu’s weaving path, she simply smashed through any orange tree in her way. In an instant, they collided. Xu Fengnian blocked Murong Longshui’s fierce knee strike with one hand, his fingers like hooks, raking across her face. Murong Longshui leaned back, kicking out. Xu Fengnian’s sleeves flared as he unleashed his full qi, delivering a heavy palm strike to her thigh. She took the blow and used the momentum to spin, slamming a palm into Xu Fengnian’s chest. He was pushed backward, sliding toward an orange tree. As his back touched the trunk, he suddenly tensed his sleeves, halting his retreat. With a flick of his leg, he severed the tree, sending it flying into the air. Grasping it midair, he swung it like a great sword at the charging Murong Longshui. She crossed her arms to protect her face as the tree shattered into splinters, leaves raining down. Ignoring the stinging cuts, she charged through the debris and slammed two fists into his chest. But Xu Fengnian did not dodge. He let her punches crash against him like waves upon a shore. As Murong Longshui sensed danger and tried to retreat, she found her fists sinking into a quagmire. Within a zhang, a swarm of flying swords surged toward her like locusts, all aiming to tear her apart. In an instant, she made a decision that would wound both parties. She did not withdraw her fists but instead planted her feet, burying her knees into the mud, and unleashed a relentless barrage of punches against Xu Fengnian. Just as the flying swords were about to pierce Murong Longshui, Yijie Liu, who had been lazily gathering branches on a distant orange tree, finally acted. He began hurling branches at the battling pair, precisely intercepting the flying swords. By chance, the swords, attuned to their master’s will, moved with chaotic precision, still failing to wound Murong Longshui.
Xu Fengnian dipped his forehead forward, striking Murong Longshui’s brow. Her rare, powerful frame recoiled, but Xu Fengnian held her arms, denying her a chance to escape. With a furious roar, she shook her arms, sending shockwaves that broke free of his grip. Xu Fengnian’s fingers carved ten deep, bloody grooves into her flesh. She lowered her head, her thick arms—like the thighs of ordinary women—wrapped around Xu Fengnian’s shoulders, appearing like a lover’s tender embrace, yet brimming with hidden malice. Murong Longshui fell backward, lifting Xu Fengnian into the air, attempting to slam his head into the ground. Xu Fengnian lightly tapped the muddy earth with both hands, as if a mist suddenly rose. Murong Longshui’s attempt to create distance and signal Yijie Liu to deploy his Willow Shade failed. She crashed into the frost-covered mud, released her grip, and prepared to spring up like a leaping fish, but Xu Fengnian was faster.
Xu Fengnian, who had been upside down, flipped back upright with a single tap. He placed his hands on Murong Longshui’s cheeks. Face to face, once again a scene of feigned tenderness beneath which lurked bloodshed. Earlier, Murong Longshui had rolled an orange in her palm; now, Xu Fengnian seemed to treat her head as that same orange. Her expression changed drastically. She unleashed a storm of punches and knee strikes, the Beiman martial prodigy famed for close combat, now desperate to break free. Yet no matter how fierce her attacks, Xu Fengnian merely held her head, inch by inch closing the gap between his palms, his body unmoved, absorbing every thunderous blow. His sleeves trembled imperceptibly fast.
Yijie Liu, perched on a distant branch, held a handful of orange twigs, his expression shifting as he weighed his options, not immediately aiding the endangered woman.
Earlier, La’e had wandered through the orange grove, arms outstretched, drawing unknown patterns. Compared to Yijie Liu, who watched from afar, the spider-like elder was more conscientious. He kicked a tree, sending it flying toward Xu Fengnian’s back. Murong Longshui, no longer holding back, struck Xu Fengnian’s chest with her full strength. The tree struck his back simultaneously, the combined force enough to crush even a King Kong body’s heart, ensuring death. After kicking, La’e turned to glare at Yijie Liu, who rolled his eyes and darted toward Xu Fengnian and Murong Longshui.
Yet Xu Fengnian remained unharmed, though he finally relented, releasing Murong Longshui’s head. His hands slid down, lifting her face upward. Murong Longshui’s body surged with chaotic qi, her feet lifting from the ground. Xu Fengnian “slowly” stepped to her side, sweeping a leg into the Beiman princess’s abdomen. Her massive body arched grotesquely midair, flying toward Yijie Liu, who had come to rescue her. Yijie Liu ignored the princess’s valuable life, diving downward. At the same time, the assassin La’e brought his thumbs and index fingers together, sweeping a strange line before him. Over a hundred orange trees uprooted, hurling toward the solitary Xu Fengnian, exploding midair. Yijie Liu’s lips curled, his fingers plucking like strings.
The entire grove erupted with sword qi.
Chaotic sword energy filled the sky like a reversed Milky Way, forming an inescapable cage.
Xu Fengnian stepped forward, knees slightly bent, as if bearing a great cauldron on his shoulders. He raised his hands, summoning the earth.
From his body as the center, dozens of zhang of ground surged upward, a rising mud wall clashing against the torrential sword qi.
Like an umbrella shielding rain.
Yijie Liu tightly gripped a branch, precisely inserting it into the hollow of the umbrella above Xu Fengnian’s head.
Seizing the gap, a Willow Shade formed.
Xu Fengnian tilted his head, expressionless, gazing directly at the famed Beiman assassin.
Yijie Liu sensed something amiss and immediately paused his attack, unwilling to risk even a rare opportunity.
Yet as he withdrew, he clearly saw a sly smile curl on Xu Fengnian’s lips.
In an instant, trusting his instincts, he struck again.
The branch truly touched Xu Fengnian’s forehead, sinking in nearly half a fingernail’s depth. Yijie Liu’s eyes gleamed with cruel delight.
Only a few feet apart, the branch suddenly ceased advancing. Without hesitation, Yijie Liu tried to withdraw.
But a red-robed foot slammed onto his back.
Xu Fengnian clasped his fingers, piercing Yijie Liu’s chest, then “gently” tore outward.
Yijie Liu was split apart midair.
A torrent of blood splattered across Xu Fengnian’s face.
Xu Fengnian remained expressionless, silent, merely shaking his wrists to silently fling off the blood. He turned his gaze toward the two remaining Beiman martial experts in the orange grove.
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