Why do I have so many masters?

Chapter 116 The Cause (2/2)

"Hehe, Young Master Murong really is full of confidence…"

The brothel woman didn't mind that at all and began to laugh coquettishly.

In the prosperous age, the common people's confidence and pride in Great Qin had truly reached an unprecedented extreme. Even the women in brothels and the peddlers on the streets believed in their country, believing that this incident was just an accident, and that what awaited those murderers was inevitably the thunderous fury of Great Qin.

This woman also knew that the young man before her was the thirteenth son of the Murong family in the city. Although he was also a Murong, he couldn't compare with the famously unparalleled fist and palm dual experts of the Murong noble clan in Jianghu', but within Fufeng County City, he should not be underestimated. His coming out meant he was definitely accompanied by guards to ensure his safety.

Perhaps it was the thought of at least an Eighth Rank martial artist hidden nearby that brought a weird excitement to the woman's heart. She flipped on top of the young man, her arms winding around the noble youth's neck, and leaned in close.

Though her clothes were thick, they could not hide the youthful vigor of her body at its prime, so graceful and enchanting.

The young man's heart stirred upon seeing this. Since that fright at the base of Wind Character Tower some days ago inflicted by the guardian of the Fufeng Academy's library, his heart had long been displeased. His close friends had gradually become estranged, and within his family, there had been no shortage of those who would kick a man while he was down.

As for that traitorous guard, he had been reassigned after arguing with his father, now protecting his tenth brother. Today, he had set out looking for a thrill to relieve some tension, and seeing the current situation, he naturally would not turn it away. The scent of powder and makeup assailed his nostrils, and although it was nighttime, desire began to rise in his heart, his hand gradually becoming restless.

Just as he was embracing the woman and tasting her red lips, passersby rushed by, and the breeze lifted the dark blue silk satin that blocked the wind at the carriage window. In that rise and fall, he saw a figure walking by slowly and saw the youth glance at him expressionlessly.

Now that night had fallen, he could still see the bloody vessels in that person's eyes clearly, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured on him, his whole body turned icy in an instant, the rising desire completely extinguished. If someone were to light a lamp and look, they'd see his face as pale as snow.

The woman, immersed in the heat of the moment, realized the young man had lost all reaction. Out of curiosity, she heard ghostly-like footsteps rise abruptly at her side, and her heart jumped. Just then, she noticed that the palm of her hand, which was holding the young man from behind, was damp with cold sweat, quite sticky.

The steady footsteps gradually faded away yet also seemed as if they had never left.

As a courtesan from a brothel, one must master the art of discerning words and colors. From the abnormal situation and the subtle trembling of the young man's body, she had already deduced that something wasn't quite right.

In her mind, she recalled again the massacre that occurred today. She thought of the extermination of three generations, with all their faces hacked into pieces, and a sense of horror emerged involuntarily.

Murong Tong swallowed hard, his heart pounding wildly, and along with the brothel woman, lowered his head in hiding, as if this could conceal them.

The footsteps slowly faded, and his mind was flooded with thoughts.

Who was that person, why did he appear so suddenly, where was he just now?

It was at that moment that he suddenly remembered what his coachman had said during their journey.

"Young Master, our carriage could do with some repairs too. The horses really struggled pulling it today."

Damn it! He must have hidden under the carriage.

The thought made the young man want to cry out, but his complexion only grew paler.

Step by step, the sound echoed across the empty streets, each footfall reaching his ears and sinking into his heart, like the icy waters of winter, bringing an indescribable chill to his soul.

The footsteps gradually grew fainter.

The inside and outside of the carriage seemed to become two different worlds.

Breathing in was extremely light, but breathing out became rapid and heavy due to the fear in his heart.

The heartbeat's fast thumping grew clearer, like a war drum.

The footsteps moved further and further away.

One step,

Two steps,

The two of them let out a long sigh of relief.

The heartbeat gradually calmed down.

Both felt a ridiculous sense of having narrowly escaped death, along with a slight relaxation. Murong, feeling he had lost face, lifted his head and forced himself to say,

"It was just a passerby, look how scared you are…"

The sound of autumn leaves being blown off by the breeze rustled.

A cool wind blew across Murong Tong's cheek, his pupils dilating.

The piece of silk cloth was lifted without his knowledge, and a face was quietly watching him.

There were more than a dozen cuts crisscrossing that countenance, resembling a demon. Seeing his attention had been drawn, the figure grinned, revealing white teeth, the whites of the eyes extremely white, the pupils extremely large and black, slightly rotating, without speaking a word, but a pressing madness surged forth.

The young man's body stiffened.

At this moment, he was petrified with fear, yet for some reason, he simply could not speak out.

"Oh my, I am but a frail girl, how could I compare with the Young Master..."

The woman in his arms, with her back to the ghastly face, had not seen and was relaxing now, only busying herself with a coquettish laugh. However, in Murong Tong's eyes, he saw that hand wrapped in the chill of the autumn night slowly stretching in from the window, fingers slightly spread, the blackened blood stains on the fingertips covering his entire field of vision.

Excruciatingly slowly, inching toward his own face.

Despite this, he could still hear a delicate voice by his ear, and a sickly sweet breath on his cheek.

Alive with fragrance.

A demon claiming souls.

The sound of her coquettish laughter lingered painfully in his ears, yet he felt only deathly silence.

The youth opened his mouth, a look of despair in his eyes, and the woman, oblivious, leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, her lips soft as jade. Murong Tong's eyes blinked faintly, and uncontrollably, tears streamed down his cheeks.

That hand was slightly open, almost touching his face.

Getting closer, inch by inch…

Suddenly, a clear sound of a sword's cry erupted.

A fierce Sword Qi swept through. A wooden sword, utilizing the technique of a Phoenix Nod, emitted three sparks of cold light that simultaneously aimed at his acupoints. Thunder roared around it, savagely tearing apart the suffocating atmosphere of death. A look of surprise appeared on that disfigured face, as the figure quickly retreated like a phantom.

A plain wooden sword slashed through in the next moment.

Thunder entwined around it, illuminating the night, and also the young man in blue who held the sword.

This was the face Murong Tong had most dreaded and despised during this period, yet now it seemed so endearing and respectable, almost bringing him to tears.

Wang Anfeng, sword in hand, landed on the ground. His right hand gripped the sword defensively in front of him, while his left hand summoned the Inner Strength of the Golden Bell Shield. With a palm strike, he pushed against the carriage without using any specialized Palm Technique, rather employing brute force to shove it several steps sideways against the wall by the street.

The horse, enduring this force, let out a cry of distress, attracting the attention of a coachman and a stall owner eating nearby.

The coachman stood up with a clatter, and upon seeing the standoff, his heart trembled at the sight of that man with a narrow, long knife and a sinister aura, already sensing that he wasn't going to be lucky today.

Anxiety filled his heart as he wanted to run over to check on his young master, but at this moment, his body wouldn't obey him. Daring neither to approach nor flee, he could only stand there with a bitter expression.

At the carriage, the disguised warrior from Danfeng Valley looked at the young man in front of him and extended his blood-red tongue to lick his lips. Smiling grotesquely, his face bearing more than a dozen scarred wounds like black centipedes twisting and entwining, he murmured contentedly:

"So it's you, Wang Anfeng."

"I was just about to find you."

He had been tricked by Wang Anfeng days before, and though he had been cautious by nature, he had later gathered information and naturally learned of the young man's identity. He knew he must've been discovered by Wang, not just discovered, but toyed with as well.

Toyed with… ha, toyed with. He must look down on me.

Just like that family last night, they looked down on me too.

If not so.

Why then did that child stare at me one extra moment as I passed his house?

Under the pressure of the mission, his repressed and distorted temperament became even more vehement, and today he had intended to lie in wait near Fufeng Academy, seizing the chance to kill this guardian of the scrolls and accompany him in death.

Luckily, he encountered him shortly after arriving near Fufeng Academy.

Could this be divine favor?

Could this be divine favor!

The warrior from Danfeng Valley laughed silently. He raised his right hand, fingers dancing before firmly gripping the hilt of his knife. He then slowly and forcefully drew it, revealing a sharp and narrow blade, the edge still bearing traces of blood.

As a martial artist, he no longer cared about maintaining his weapon.

Wang Anfeng stood with his sword, facing the seemingly crazed assassin.

Today, he hadn't found what he was searching for. When preparing to return to Fufeng Academy, he was enticed by the scent of mutton soup and wanted to stop for a drink… a few bowls, but as he approached, he sensed an intense killing intent. Seeing the assassin, he acted out of urgency, exerting his full strength to force the attacker back.

When he struck with his sword, he intentionally infused Thunderous Vigorous Qi. In the still of the night, the thunder and the sword's cry could travel far. He had just seen the patrolling guards, not too far away; they should arrive within moments.

But in front of him, a fierce battle was now inevitable.

The youth, with a wooden sword in hand, channeled his Inner Strength and entered the Zen state of Empty Brightness.

No Other Aspect, No-Self Aspect, no aspect of any beings.

The two stood off against each other, the atmosphere growing more suffocatingly silent. The stall owner nearby saw this and cautiously moved backward, planning to leave quietly without alarming the assassin. Yet even the lightest step was glaringly obvious to martial artists of such caliber.

Their Qi Mechanisms tangled, and the distinctive trembling sound of clashing weapons instantly filled the entire street.

PS: Second update