Why do I have so many masters?

Chapter 2 The Evil Guest in the Village (2/2)

Heaven and Earth are the transient lodging for all creatures; Time is the fleeting traveler across a hundred generations.

The world is like the tide, people like water—Two years ago, Fufeng was known for guarding the books, yet now it seems he has been forgotten by all. Hong Feibai showed no trace of oddity; he simply performed a salutation and said:

"I, Hong Feibai."

"Brother Wang's great kindness and virtue are beyond my expression of gratitude. I shall repay you in the future."

"Young hero, you're too kind..."

Wang Anfeng smiled, inviting Hong Feibai back to sit on the bed while he himself went to the outer room to teach the children how to write. From inside, Hong Feibai watched the young man repeatedly bend over, guiding the children's palms, teaching them how to write the words and their meanings.

Children of six or seven are usually the most active and restless, yet now they were very quiet.

And Wang Anfeng did not show the slightest impatience.

Watching the young man, the anxious restlessness in Hong Feibai's heart gradually calmed down. He sat cross-legged on the bed, meditated, and with each breath, his inner strength flowed gently. Moments later, it had circulated through the entire Zhou Tian cycle in his body.

When it returned to his Dantian, he suddenly opened his eyes, his face no longer composed.

After the injury the previous night, he had fallen unconscious amidst the icy snowy night. He had expected severe internal injuries due to the cold invasion, but during his circulation just now, he found not only an absence of internal injuries but even the old hidden wounds felt lighter, and his circulation of energy was much smoother than before.

Clearly, while he had been unconscious, a skilled physician had treated him, aiding his circulation of energy.

Could it have been Brother Wang?

Hong Feibai's expression underwent many changes, but he could only come up with this one idea.

As he meditated and circulated his energy, the children had already returned to their homes. The room had suddenly become much more spacious. Wang Anfeng had started a fire in the stove, setting a pot above it, and had cut pork into bite-sized cubes, mixing it with stir-fried soybeans before starting to simmer it over a low flame.

Dry wood crackled fiercely in the stove. Wang Anfeng sat on a small stool, breaking pieces of firewood and feeding them into the fire bit by bit. Noticing that Hong Feibai was awake, he turned to look at him with a smile and said:

"Hero Hong, are you feeling better now?"

The firelight lit up the young man's face. He wore plain clothes, his hair black as ink, but it was his calm and peaceful demeanor, as if he were above worldly strife, that made all the doubts and guesses in Hong Feibai's heart dissipate. He chided himself for being so paranoid that he could think of anything in his desperation.

However, someone certainly had treated his wounds.

He could ask about it later. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

A thought crossed his mind, and Hong Feibai got out of bed. As soon as he entered the outer room, he was greeted by a mouthwatering aroma. His eyes brightened as he said:

"Excellent cooking skills!"

Wang Anfeng replied with a smile:

"It's a pity, though, that the local butcher was unwilling to sell me the pork knuckles."

"Otherwise, the soybeans simmered with the knuckles would taste even better."

Hong Feibai said with a laugh:

"This is already more than enough."

"It's just a shame that there's meat without wine; truly a regret."

Wang Anfeng shook his head and said seriously:

"You've been injured; you can't drink alcohol now."

Hong Feibai paused.

"But, there is some tea."

...........................

High in the sky, a Flying Eagle soared, its cries ceaseless.

The sound of hooves thundered, galloping toward this direction.

Across the vast snowy landscape, a black stallion, dark as ink, charged from a distance toward a tranquil village, its messy mane dancing, its hooves thundering, shattering the serene atmosphere.

Snow was kicked up into the air.

The leader, a strikingly beautiful woman, whistled sharply, and the Flying Eagle circled beside her before soaring into the sky again.

The woman looked toward a tall and burly man next to her and said:

"We've located the man's whereabouts."

"He's in a village not far ahead."

The man stood eight feet tall, though a martial artist of Jianghu, he was different from others—for both he and his horse were clad in heavy armor, and he wielded a Crude Iron Heavy Spear weighing over 300 jin. With the combined weight of thousands of jin, powered by the galloping horse, his charge was almost as formidable as the immense strength of an Exotic Beast mammoth. He frowned slightly and said in a deep voice:

"Can you be certain?"

The woman nodded slightly and said:

"I've marked him, using the medicinal knowledge from Pharmacist Valley amid the Jianghu of Fufeng. Ever since Pharmacist Valley was destroyed and Fire Refining Sect sealed the mountain two years ago, there have been very few in Fufeng who could recognize this 'Thousand-Mile Mirage'. Even this silver-feathered Flying Eagle only sensed it by coincidence."

She hesitated before adding:

"However, I'm unsure if anyone else has placed other marks on him."

The man frowned slightly, his mind on those martial artists from various powers, but he said nothing, simply stating:

"Speed up."

"Yes!"

........................

Hong Feibai held a cup of tea in his hands, his eyes fixated on the iron pot.

The rich and tempting aroma, accompanied by the steady fanning of a palm fan in the hands of the young man, swirled incessantly before his nose.

Taking a deep inhale of the fragrance, he then raised his hand, tilted back his head, and downed the cup of tea. However, the lightness of the tea only served to intensify the aroma and made the cravings stirring within his Five Viscera Temple even more relentless.

Yet the young man beside him continued his deliberate pace, making it hard for Hong Feibai to ask for more without losing face, so he stood up, picked up the teapot beside him, and poured more into his cup. The clear tea flowed into the white porcelain cup, presenting a pleasant sight. Hong Feibai set the teapot on the table with a light clink, causing ripples to spread gently over the surface of the tea.

The ripples collided with the rim of the cup and slowly settled.

But just then, the water in the cup suddenly rippled again, the vibrations growing larger, incessantly trembling. Hong Feibai's expression turned puzzled for a moment before his pupils abruptly constricted.

"No…"

Suddenly, a loud eagle cry pierced the sky, sharp as a splitting stone.

Suddenly, mocking laughter like that of a night owl rang out from outside, now to the left, now to the right, now in front, now behind, elusive and indistinct, like a ghastly specter, as it suddenly cackled:

"Hong Feibai, your grandpa is here. Why not come out and meet your death?"

In an instant, Hong Feibai's complexion turned ashen, and he felt a chill spread through his body.

He was all too familiar with that laugh.

Or rather, every martial artist in Fufeng would recognize it well.

Ever since the Fire Refining Sect closed off its mountain, the Jianghu of the entire Fufeng region had been thrown into disarray by Yi Nanping, who had broken the deadlock. Now, with the loss of the Sea-Calming Divine Needle, chaos completely took over. Sects that had previously feared the Fire Refining Sect began to expand their power recklessly, and the frequency of martial artists' confrontations increased.

More martial artists perished.

More martial artists made a name for themselves.

Ghost Owl Sword.

In its Qinggong, save for the elders and sect leaders of the major sects, along with Middle Third Rank experts wandering the Jianghu, scarcely anyone could match it. Paired with an exceptionally cold and merciless swordsmanship skill, it was enough to instill fear in people.

Meanwhile, two other voices arose, saying:

"You think you can steal our things?"

"Stealing our things will get you killed."

One male, one female, these two voices spoke with an identical tone, without much inflection, uttering their sentences in a uniform manner that made it hard to discern their true intentions—one could only sense an indescribable eeriness.

"Hahaha, so it's the Yin siblings. Who says it's your stuff? In this Jianghu, whoever has the bigger fist owns everything, no?"

Another voice chimed in, its words rough and aggressive, yet filled with an unmistakable wariness.

Hong Feibai's face went completely pale.

Every single person speaking outside was capable of taking his life within thirty moves; the only reason they had not yet acted was mutual wariness.

He had initially been pursued by another group of martial artists, but after taking a nap, he found the situation had only worsened.

On Hong Feibai's face, fear, resentment, and sorrow flashed in succession until, with a sigh, he turned to look at the teenager still fanning the furnace beside him. The latter's countenance showed no signs of panic, remaining composed.

Hong Feibai inwardly admired the youth's composure and mental fortitude. Facing danger, he was even calmer than himself, a martial artist. With self-mocking laughter, Hong Feibai simply let go of all concerns, saying:

"Brother Wang, is the pork stew with yellow beans ready?"

Wang Anfeng replied:

"Not yet, about a final quarter of an hour's time..."

Hong Feibai sighed:

"Can we speed it up a little?"

"Would it matter if it's a bit early by a quarter or half an hour?"

"After smelling it for so long, at least let me have a bite."

Wang Anfeng looked up at the young man before him, shook his head, and said:

"No."

Hong Feibai looked at Wang Anfeng, sighed, and with a gradually fading smile, said:

"Brother Wang, thank you for saving my life."

"Whatever happens next, please don't come out."

With those words, he bowed deeply to Wang Anfeng and then turned to face the wooden door. Beyond it could be a split-second turn from life to death. Hong Feibai took a deep breath, suppressing the fear in his heart, calming his countenance.

His inner strength started to surge through his meridians.

Just as he was about to leave, something was pressed into his hand. He had lost his weapon during his earlier escape and instinctively grabbed it, only to realize upon closer inspection that it was the fan the young man had been using to stoke the fire. Unable to decide whether to laugh or cry, and before he could react, Wang Anfeng had already stepped out.

With a casual posture and the hem of his clothes billowing slightly, his speed was so fast that Hong Feibai only saw an afterimage.

The young man's expression changed abruptly.

Outside, three groups of people faced off against each other, but then they saw a young man in plain clothes walk out. Several sharp gazes landed on Wang Anfeng, among them a gaunt man who scoffed twice, calling out loudly:

"What's this, the great Hong Feibai choosing to send someone else out to die in his stead?"

"Believe it or not, I'll kill this brat and throw him in with you."

On another side, a woman in purple looked at the tranquil Wang Anfeng and chuckled:

"This handsome young man... it'd be a shame to kill him."

Wang Anfeng, with a serene expression, bowed and said:

"This place is also considered a school."

"Within the school, we teach students not to fight, not to recklessly wield knives and swords."

It was as if a moment of deathly silence fell inside the yard.

Then a roar of laughter burst forth, as if they had heard the funniest joke in the world. The woman in purple fell into the arms of the man beside her, laughing uncontrollably, while the gaunt man laughed maniacally like a demon, suddenly exclaiming:

"What nerve! My sword is right here, and today I'll kill someone in this very place..."

At that moment, high above in the sky, the sharp cries of eagles and hawks pierced through the air once again.

The sounds of thundering horse hooves grew from nothing to a crescendo, filling the fields within moments, charging straight toward Wang Anfeng's house on the village's edge.

The leader, wielding a heavy spear, burst forth, his war horse neighing incessantly.

Like a dragon, its cry piercing.

Man and horse combined, thousands of pounds charging at extreme speed, their formidable presence turned the expressions of all present martial artists grave as they all stepped back, and suddenly from the ground a thunderous shout akin to a peal of thunder rang out:

"How audacious!"

"The spear is here, if you have the guts, come and take it!"

With a sound that seemed to shake the heavens themselves, man and horse shattered the courtyard of Wang Anfeng's dwelling, charging towards the youth in plain clothes. The horse's hooves kicked up the snow on the ground, creating a scene like the snow mists of the Northern Lands.

The spear thrust forward.

Visible waves of air swept out in all directions.