The landlady, upon hearing the young swordsman’s bold words, twisted her waist, which was as stout as a water bucket, and laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face, resembling a plump peony growing atop cow dung. She raised her head, and with two thick fingers, as wide as those of a delicate woman, she gently rubbed her eyes, saying, “Young master, are you trying to joke with this old lady? Oh my, I can’t laugh anymore, or my crow’s feet will show. Young master, you’re truly wicked.”
Xu Fengnian laughed along, glanced at the embarrassed petite woman, patted the head of the frightened child hiding behind him, and asked, “Landlady, did your husband plan from the beginning to hand me over to Brother Murong as a scapegoat?”
The landlady, with a heart as dark as ink and no inclination to hide it, nodded and said, “My husband has some discernment, otherwise how could he have found me among a sea of beauties back then? He knows you’re neither too skilled nor too weak, and by sacrificing you and getting rid of this fox-like troublemaker, we can settle things peacefully. As for the mother and daughter’s fate afterward, it’s beyond our inn’s control. If blame is to be assigned, it’s because the young lady chose a man with bad luck, and you, young master, have poor fortune. In the past, if you had stayed at Yantou Green Inn and brought enough silver, you’d have plenty of wine and meat, and ample company from the girls.”
Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, “Given the Innkeeper’s skills, he could be a guest of honor anywhere. Why not simply join forces with Brother Murong, who came prepared? Or is it that the Murong family’s bowl is too small to satisfy your appetite?”
The landlady continued rubbing her eyes, smoothing out the crow’s feet, and replied with displeasure, “The Murong family might be a huge cauldron under the heavens, but Murong Zhangtai and Murong Jiangshen are just small broken bowls, good enough for beggars but not for my husband. If Jie Jie of Ju Zi Prefecture, Murong Baoding, were to visit in person, that would be perfect.”
Xu Fengnian nodded and said, “I see. The two of you, the Innkeeper and landlady, are waiting for a good price. Truly shrewd businessmen.”
The landlady feigned surprise and said, “Young master, how come you, who vowed to kill everyone, have gone quiet so soon? If a man is all talk and no action, that won’t do. There are three women inside, and they’ll surely look down on you. Qin Wu Zu learned one move from my husband and knocked out Murong Zhangtai. I haven’t been idle all these years either. How about a little sparring with young master? If you win, you can go out and face Murong Jiangshen when he’s desperate. Don’t worry, if there aren’t enough coffins this time at Yantou Green, we’ll be sure to reserve a top-grade Liuzhou cypress wood coffin for you. However, young master’s heart and liver might have to be borrowed for a while. My husband has been waiting for an enticing delicacy like you for years. To be honest, even if you were truly the disciple of a venerable immortal like Qilin Zhenren, I’d still have to help him carve it out. At worst, we’ll just abandon the inn.”
After revealing her innermost thoughts, the landlady’s sinister smile widened as she awaited the young bull’s frightened panic. Unexpectedly, she herself widened her eyes in shock first and stammered, “Flying sword?!”
※※※
Xie Zhanggui, tall and thin as a bamboo pole, carried the unconscious Murong Zhangtai down the stairs. Murong Jiangshen, to show sincerity, entered the inn with only the royal guard, the Zha Rong soldier. Upon seeing this tenth-ranked martial cultivator, he even discarded his prestigious status to bow deeply. Xie Ling placed Murong Zhangtai on a dining table without the slightest sign of being flattered.
After battling with Luo Yang, the first-ranked martial cultivator, Xie Ling, although severely injured, gained a reputation in the martial world of Northern Wei as a case of honorable defeat. However, Xie Ling knew his own bitterness. After hiding his identity for over twenty years, he painstakingly practiced a secret manual obtained by chance. He had thought that even if he couldn’t match Luo Yang, who had stormed the imperial city with unstoppable might, he wouldn’t suffer a crushing defeat. But when he truly faced that martial arts giant who left no survivors, Xie Ling realized his grave mistake. His by luck survival was merely due to the mercy of that demon. Xie Ling, originally intending to achieve fame through a single battle and enter the Northern Wei military to pursue a path proven successful by Tuo Ba Bodhisattva, now felt disheartened and his cultivation greatly diminished, so he abandoned thoughts of fame and fortune, drinking to drown his sorrows year after year. It is said that the top-tier martial artists in the Northern Wei martial world became unparalleled demons, the first-tier joined the military to achieve glory, the second-tier enjoyed comfortable lives in sects and powerful families, while the third-tier and those below struggled in the muddy pond of the martial world, becoming the butt of jokes.
Although Xie Ling’s strength was severely compromised, his pride remained. Since he knew the so-called martial cultivator giant was merely a hollow shell, he didn’t want to disgrace himself in the Northern Wei military. Moreover, his initial target was the two capitals of the royal court. What was a minor Murong disciple to him? Not worthy of his command. However, despite his disdain, certain rules still had to be observed. The martial world and the military and government operated separately, and the martial cultivators could kill and plunder within their own realm without the Northern Wei court intervening. But if they offended the offspring of military or official families, unless they were top martial arts figures like Luo Yang, they would face trouble. With Xie Ling guarding Yantou Green Inn, he treated grudges and vendettas like an adult watching children play, never intervening. The Murong brothers abducting Tao Qianzhi’s widow was none of Yantou Green’s concern. However, wanting to have their cake and eat it too, desiring both the beauty and Xie Ling’s involvement, Xie Ling found it inconvenient to refuse outright. Thus, he let his wife play the villain, pushing the young swordsman to his death, merely giving both sides a way to save face. The meaning was clear: if the Murong brothers killed and destroyed the inn, Xie Ling, out of respect for their royal status, would not intervene. However, if the widow and child were taken out of the inn, the inn would distance itself from the Murong brothers. If they dared to push further, Xie Ling, even before he became famous, had blood on his hands aplenty.
The opening of that secret manual stated, “Consuming one hundred hearts and livers a year will grant longevity after sixty years.” It was no mere hyperbole meant to shock.
Among the millions in the martial world of Northern Wei, few could match Xie Ling’s reputation as a true grand demon.
Murong Jiangshen, upon receiving Xie Ling’s silent permission, approached the table where Murong Zhangtai lay like a fattened sheep awaiting slaughter. He leaned in to check Murong Zhangtai’s nose for breath and sighed in relief. If his cousin, who was highly regarded by the family, died here, he would face severe consequences upon his return, possibly even maimed by his father, known for his brutal temperament. The Murong clan has always revered martial prowess, and mere bravery in battle was nothing special. Only literati like his cousin Murong Zhangtai, who displayed exceptional talent, stood out like a crane among chickens. The emperor was delighted to see Murong descendants excel in the court through genuine ability. Murong Jiangshen’s branch of the family, being a collateral line of the Murong clan, had to tread carefully. The current Xie Ling, hidden among the common folk, was a valuable asset they and the family sought to court eagerly. The martial cultivators who died inside and outside the inn were merely bricks used to knock on the door, slightly demonstrating their intent.
Seeing Xie Ling remain silent, Murong Jiangshen did not rush to speak, instead weighing in his mind whether the Chips offered were sufficient. Tao Qianzhi’s widow would definitely be taken away. It was not merely because his cousin Murong Zhangtai lusted after her beauty, but due to the interests of the family behind them. The two capitals and four prefectures, the north and south in opposition, like a turtle entwined with a snake, fighting amongst themselves with bloody fervor. This was a scene the emperor, who delighted in the balance of power, was pleased to see. Northern Di City was what the Liyang Kingdom referred to as the Northern Wei royal court. Southern Yanjing had absorbed many remnants of the eight fallen kingdoms, each controlling two prefectures independently of the eight provinces. The Northern Imperial Tent officials and the Southern court officials, once they clashed, generally resulted in the north resorting to force and the south to rhetoric, a fiery scene. Naturally, the Murong clan was a sturdy pillar of the Northern Imperial Tent officials. However, in recent years, they had gradually infiltrated the Gusai and Longyao prefectures, suspected of undermining the foundations. Dong Fatso and Tao Qianzhi were steadfast pillars of the Southern court officials. Back in Gusai Prefecture, they had given Murong Jiangshen and his ilk of noble princes plenty of hardship, seizing every opportunity to crush them mercilessly. To the Murong clan, this was no longer a minor matter of face. Provided they did not touch the emperor’s bottom line, they would do their utmost to irritate each other.
Just like this time, with Tao Qianzhi’s sudden death, the Northern Wei empress was naturally furious. However, if Murong Jiangshen merely bullied Tao Qianzhi’s widow, the far-sighted emperor would not concern himself with such trivial matters. The Southern court officials had endured such humiliations for over twenty years, and Dong Fatso might not even truly confront them. Such an act of covertly undermining the Southern officials’ morale and splashing filth, the Murong descendants executed with ease.
Once the deed was done, the imperial city would erupt in cheers and applause, and the elders at home would also gain prestige. As for Tao Qianzhi’s delicate and tender wife, after his cousin grew tired of her, she would inevitably be passed around among the aristocratic youths of the imperial city, becoming a worn-out shoe that everyone would trample upon and wear. His cousin would surely move closer to the core of the circle. After all, in the imperial city, beautiful women were not hard to buy with money, but the wife of a general with the title of Chong She was a rarity.
Both sides had their own calculations. Murong Jiangshen wanted to seize the woman to pave his way to the imperial city. If he couldn’t persuade the grim-faced martial cultivator before him this time, it was no problem. He would return to the family and have the elders pay a visit. He wouldn’t believe there was a man in the world uninterested in high office, wealth, and beautiful women.
As for Xie Ling, he couldn’t quite discern the identity of the swordsman. He planned to use Murong’s forces as scouts. If they died, it would be a joyous occasion. If they survived, Xie Ling would secretly eliminate them. A heart and liver of such exquisite quality would be the ultimate tonic for him, surpassing a hundred ordinary ones. As his wife said upstairs, such a delicacy, more precious than bird’s nest and shark fin by millions of times, even the disciple of the national teacher, the saint of Taoism in the imperial city, would have to die if Unfortunate to arrive at Yantou Green, the gate of hell.
Suddenly, Xie Ling turned his head toward the staircase of the second floor, his killing intent surging.
Murong Jiangshen was also startled.
A young swordsman with a saber in hand held two severed heads, dripping with blood.
Xu Fengnian first threw out one head, saying, “This one is a gift for Yantou Green Inn, a humble offering.”
Xie Ling caught the head, his eyes red, his teeth clenched with a sound.
Xu Fengnian threw the other head to Murong Jiangshen, who had gone to great lengths, and said calmly, “This one is for the Murong family of Northern Wei. Please accept it with a smile.”
Murong Jiangshen did not reach for the head, letting it roll to his feet, his face dark and terrifying.
The demon Xie Ling hugged the head to his chest and let out a piercing, ear-splitting beastly roar, shaking the beams of the house and causing much dust to fall.
Xu Fengnian said calmly, “Although both women chose to die themselves, the one with the larger head died more bitterly. Compared to the other, she probably wondered how she had died when my hand chopped off her head. As for the one at Prince Murong’s feet, she died clearly, knowing that even if she left the inn alive, her life would not be worth living, so she exchanged her life for another’s. The words are done. What do you have to say? Do you also want to beg for death?”
Before Murong Jiangshen, who had meticulously planned and ended up with nothing, could speak, the bloodthirsty Zha Rong soldier lunged upward like a suddenly uprooted onion, his body curving as he attacked the arrogant young man.
Xie Ling didn’t even look toward the battlefield. Tears streamed from his eyes as he bent down to kiss his wife’s forehead and gently closed her wide, staring eyes.
She had once said, “Hey, old ghost, if you lose, you lose. It’s not shameful to lose to Luo Yang. How about we farm and raise chickens and ducks together? Growing old and dying together wouldn’t be so bad.” He didn’t agree, saying he wanted to fight Luo Yang one more time to the death. Over the years, he had gone mad, killing and stealing hearts and livers, becoming more and more inhuman, yet she never despised him.
He thought he would probably never defeat Luo Yang in this lifetime and would die with regrets. Why did you have to die first?
She said that if there ever came a day when she was just a hair’s breadth away from defeating that lofty Luo Yang, then tear open her chest and eat her heart and liver.
Xie Ling’s tears turned to blood.
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