Who among the gangsters wants to fall in love?

Chapter 454 The Amorous Swordsman
As night deepens, the bright moon hangs high, its light spilling across the vast yellow sands. The night sky is clear, with only a single silver moon hanging in the sky.

In the oasis of Shayuan, two horses stand by the lake, drinking water under the moonlight.

Kaka————

Not far from the lake shore, a camp was set up. Zhao Wumian sat cross-legged in front of the campfire, stirring the fire with a stick, and sparks occasionally popped with a crisp sound.

Ji Zihuai and Luo Chaoyan, master and apprentice, boiled water and took a simple bath in the tent. As night fell, the desert turned from hot to cool, and a blanket was hung in front of the tent.

The group traveled the world without a carriage, but their small house was fully equipped with all sorts of things, including a small pot in the saddlebag.

When they crave something sweet, they can enjoy a hot pot meal outdoors.

Crash---

The soft sound of splashing water came from inside the tent. With Zhao Wumian's five senses, he could tell what they were doing just by listening to these subtle sounds of water... Ji Zihuai was washing Tuan'er, while Luo Chaoyan was silent, probably watching with envy.

After listening for a while, Zhao Wumian became impatient, got up, took out the Qingxu sword from his saddlebag, sat by the pool, and drew the sword from its sheath.

Under the clear moonlight, the sword showed some stains and traces of wind and sand erosion.

Zhao Wumian entered the desert from Xiliang and encountered many Rong people and followers of the Holy Sect along the way... All of these people became the dead under his sword. His sword was stained with so much blood that it was difficult to wash it off easily. Now, with the wind and sand blowing in, it has become like this.

He splashed water from the pool onto his sword and cleaned it inch by inch with a white cloth. He didn't use any internal energy cultivation techniques; he was simply keeping himself occupied while pondering something...

Uudam's whereabouts are currently unknown, but Shentu Buzui has allied with him. We will go to Baihuo City to find out and we will surely gain something.

Shen Tu Bu Zui is now presiding over the Fire Worship Ceremony, and Yuan Mu and Miss Su must have already gone to the Fire Worship City to scout out the location for Zhao Wumian.

After Zhao Wumian killed Wen Wuzheng, he went to find them. However, Wang Yuanmu acted impulsively and directly attacked the Holy Sect's headquarters.

But he still had no news of Meng Po, and he didn't know how the little Hu girl was doing... She was probably also chasing Wen Wuzheng, and he should be able to meet her in a few days.

As Zhao Wumian pondered, he looked at the Qingxu Sword in his hand again.

He used the tip of his sword to draw a portrait in the sand, and the outline of a female knight-errant in white gradually became lifelike under the sword.

It's laughable that Zhao Wumian, a wandering swordsman with ugly handwriting and abstract drawing skills, is best at drawing a woman.

This woman's sword led Zhao Wumian on his journey through the martial world for over a decade. Now he has long since obtained her sword, yet he still doesn't know where she is in the world.

I wonder if there will be any clues about her in the Western Regions... or perhaps not.

But Zhao Wumian was not disheartened; all the hardships he had endured only strengthened his resolve to become an immortal.

He couldn't believe that after becoming an immortal, he still couldn't find a woman.

He had searched for Jiu'er in the mortal world, in the immortal realm, and in the netherworld... He had been searching for Jiu'er for ten years, and he didn't care about a few more decades.

rustle----

Soft footsteps came from behind. Luo Chaoyan was wrapped in a cloak, dressed very warmly, with her hair tied up. Only a few drops of water could be seen on her snow-white, slender neck.

She sat down beside Zhao Wumian, glancing back curiously. "What are you thinking about? Your little Hu girl? Hmph, the amorous swordsman..."

"As for Meng Po, why would I miss her that much?" Zhao Wumian sheathed the Qingxu Sword and wrapped it in black cloth to prevent it from getting caught in the sandstorm again.

"I'm thinking about Jiu'er."

"Oh……"

Luo Chaoyan raised her hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. She knew that Zhao Wumian's greatest obsession was to find Jiu'er, but he had achieved success in every aspect, yet he could not find Jiu'er, and he had gained nothing here.

The young woman wanted to offer some words of comfort, but she didn't know what to say... After all, the Jiu'er family's miserable state was inextricably linked to her ancestors.

If Zhao Wumian hadn't lost his memory, their meeting would have been tense, with both of them wanting to kill each other.

The fact that the two people are now in love and have even gotten married is purely because this young couple values ​​affection and loyalty.

Luo Chaoyan then said, "Let me sing you a song."

"Singing?" Zhao Wumian had never heard Luo Chaoyan sing before... After all, apart from Zhao Wumian, no one in this world was worthy of making an empress sing.

“Yes.” Luo Chaoyan’s voice was clear and crisp.

So the young lady began to sing a song in front of her husband.

"La~ La la~"

Her voice was so ethereal, like a nightingale in a deep valley, yet so full of vitality.

Zhao Wumian sat by the tranquil pool with his newlywed wife, listening to her sing.

The desert sands fly silently, so songs can be carried far by the wind and sand... If Jiu'er really lived in this vast desert, maybe she could hear them too.

……

As night deepened, the young woman, her throat parched from singing and lacking any martial arts skills, soon leaned against Zhao Wumian's shoulder and fell into a deep sleep, her sleeping face adorable.

Zhao Wumian held his wife in his arms, not getting up to disturb her rest. He simply picked her up by the waist and bent down to enter the tent.

The tent was lined with cotton and silk, providing warmth, and was fully equipped with daily necessities such as a small dining table. Although this made the tent seem a bit cramped, it was not cluttered.

Ji Zihuai had also finished washing up. Dressed in a light purple dress, she sat in a duck-like position with her buttocks pressed against the cotton carpet, holding a bronze mirror and combing her white hair.

She had just taken a shower, and the fabric of her dress clung tightly to her skin, revealing a hint of flesh.

As Zhao Wumian walked in, she turned around and looked at him. Zhao Wumian could just see the cute and full little indentation in the back of the Imperial Tutor's leg.

"Let her sleep here." Ji Zihuai combed her smooth white hair and pointed to the velvet blanket beside her with a bronze mirror.

Zhao Wumian gently laid Luo Chaoyan down, covered her with a blanket, and then sat down next to Ji Zihuai, holding her soft, boneless little hand.

Ji Zihuai did not speak, but her pretty face flushed slightly as she glanced back at the Empress of Dali.

Zhao Wumian probed out his inner energy, sensing a little, then wrapped his arms around Ji Zihuai's waist, "The immortal energy within the Imperial Tutor's body..."

"Again?" Ji Zihuai's gaze darted away, her lips pursed slightly.

"Um……"

"Then, then be gentle, don't make noise, Chaoyan, rest..." Ji Zihuai turned her face away, seemingly shy and timid.

She thought to herself that she wasn't stealing food, but if she didn't, she would die.

She had only been married a short time; if she died, her husband would become a widower… That wouldn’t do.

"I can't control my strength. What if I use too much force and offend the Imperial Tutor..."

Ji Zihuai was taken aback, her teeth clenched, and she slowly got up, pressing on Zhao Wumian's shoulder. Then she sat on her husband's lap in the same position and said irritably:

"I knew you had this in mind..."

The woman in purple groped around for a while before her eyebrows furrowed, her waist swaying back and forth. Suddenly, her breathing became short, and she lay motionless on Zhao Wumian's chest.

"tired?"

"Can't you give me a break?"

"How many times has this happened..."

"I can't get used to that, who told you to be like this, like this..."

Ji Zihuai was too shy to speak, but after a while, she put her hands on her husband's shoulders and straightened up.

"Hmm? Master, please continue~" Luo Chaoyan's voice rang out softly, causing Ji Zihuai to freeze in place, his gaze darting away.

Luo Chaoyan is no longer an innocent young lady; she's quite familiar with the scent now, so how could she possibly be sound asleep on one side, acting like an 'incompetent wife'?

She gave a soft snort, took out a handkerchief from her bosom, and bent down to wipe... If Ji Zihuai's constitution wasn't wiped clean, she might be poisoned.

Luo Chaoyan is now quite experienced, after all, the master and apprentice have been together more than once or twice...

The tents were dark and gloomy, with the candles long since extinguished and a slight night breeze stirring up a few grains of sand.

The next morning, Zhao Wumian emerged from his tent; the campfire had long since gone out.

He lit the fire again, set up the small pot, rinsed the rice, poured in water, and began to cook porridge.

Wisps of white smoke rose slowly from above the oasis.

The master and his apprentice couldn't get up for a while and were still slowly getting dressed and washing up in the tent.

After they were dressed and ready, the three of them sat down to eat porridge. Suddenly, Zhao Wumian looked up and gazed at the opposite bank of the pool.

At dawn, a light mist shrouded the surface of the pool, but with Zhao Wumian's martial arts skills, the figures on the opposite bank were still clearly visible. For the desert wanderers, the oasis was a natural haven. A lone swordsman, weary from his journey, arrived and rested briefly on the opposite bank of the pool.

The Western Regions are too chaotic. When wandering swordsmen meet in the wild, bloodshed is inevitable. Now that the swordsman has chosen to set up camp in such a remote place, he obviously does not want any changes in his life.

This also sends a signal to Zhao Wumian that they will not disturb each other.

Zhao Wumian wasn't a murderer. As long as you didn't provoke him, he wouldn't cause trouble. So he just glanced at the swordsman and looked away.

But that one glance made him raise an eyebrow slightly.

A towering figure, like an iron tower, a ring-pommel sword hanging at his waist, and only one arm...

One-armed swordsman, Yangshe Congyun... these characteristics were so obvious that Zhao Wumian naturally recognized them.

After all, Yangshe Congyun's arm was cut off by him, and the title of Dao Kui was stolen from him.

It has been a year since we last met. Yangshe Congyun has weathered many storms, his beard is unkempt, and he has changed a lot... He is still searching for his family.

Zhao Wumian knew that his elder brother Yangshe Congyun had been abducted by the Holy Sect and that his son had been missing for a long time, which was why he had been in the Western Regions for so long.

Zhao Wu recognized Yangshe Congyun, but Yangshe Congyun did not recognize him.

He came to the Western Regions only to find the whereabouts of his elder brother and son... He had no time to pay attention to the young men and women he met by chance in the martial arts world.

He only glanced at them casually, and because his martial arts skills were far inferior to Zhao Wumian's, and because they were separated by the fog, he couldn't see them very clearly.

Just thinking to myself, "How come this young man's hair is all white?" There are so many strange and wonderful people in the martial arts world.

Clearly, Zhao Wumian's change was even greater than his. Yangshe Congyun would never have imagined that Marquis Weiming, who had just married the emperor in February and should have been enjoying the bliss of married life in the capital, would travel thousands of miles to the Western Regions to eat sand.

Yangshe Congyun drew his ring-pommel sword and washed it in the pool, clearly indicating that he had killed quite a few people during his time in the Western Regions.

"who is it?"

Luo Chaoyan tensed up. During this trip to the Western Regions, she basically killed every martial arts practitioner she encountered. Even she had developed a strong sense of vigilance, seeing danger everywhere she looked.

Zhao Wumian whispered, "Yangshe Congyun..."

Ji Zihuai paused slightly, holding her small bowl and silently drinking her porridge. She lowered her voice and asked, "What should we do?"

The feud between Zhao Wumian and Yangshe Congyun had long been settled. Since he had been spared back then, there was no need to kill him now that they had met again in the martial world.

He was looking for Jiu'er, and Yangshe Congyun was also looking for his family. The two actually felt a sense of being kindred spirits...

Seeing that Yangshe Congyun didn't recognize him, he didn't bother to pay any attention. He got up, took out a few slices of cured meat from his saddlebag, mixed them into the porridge, and said:

"As long as he doesn't cause trouble, he can just do whatever he needs to do..."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Yangshe Congyun took a quick rest and then rode off again.

This guy left in such a hurry...

Zhao Wumian silently drank his porridge, turning his head to look in the direction where Yangshe Congyun had left.

According to the information given by Meng Po, Wen Wuzheng was nearby, and the only place to rest in this vast desert was called "Moyan Post Station", which was backed by an oasis and provided a place for travelers to rest and prepare for their journeys in the desert.

Zhao Wumian then planned to go there to find Meng Po and Wen Wuzheng.

Yangshe Congyun would not suddenly appear here... and his elder brother, Yangshe Chao, was kidnapped by Meng Po.

As the saying goes, every wrong has its perpetrator and every debt its debtor. If Yangshe Congyun wants to find his brother, he should naturally hunt down Meng Po...

Thinking of this, Zhao Wumian's heart skipped a beat... Perhaps Yangshe Congyun and he were heading to the same destination.

He tossed aside the congee, packed up the tent, and said, "Let's go. Meng Po might be surrounded and killed by Wen Wuzheng and Yangshe Congyun..."

The two women were slightly taken aback, but they knew what was important and didn't care about their jealousy. They got up and helped tidy up. Only Luo Chaoyan seemed a little sour and sighed.

"Meng Po is lucky. She helped you once, and you remember her in your heart."

"It doesn't matter who helps me." Zhao Wumian tightened the saddlebag, mounted the horse, pulled Luo Chaoyan up, and immediately spurred the horse on.

Hoofbeats, hoofbeats—

Ji Zihuai rode up, the horse's hooves kicking up sand. After they rushed out of the oasis, they galloped through the vast yellow sand, with sand occasionally getting into their collars with the wind.

They wrapped their sand-proof cloaks tighter, put on their hoods to cover their faces, leaving only their eyes exposed, dressed like ordinary江湖人 (jianghu people) from the Western Regions.

Knowing that they would encounter enemies ahead, Zhao Wumian had already gripped the Qingxu Sword, which was wrapped in black cloth.

The three galloped swiftly, their steeds running freely, and before noon, they could see a verdant expanse in the desert plains in the distance.

Zhao Wumian reined in his horse and stood on a sand dune, gazing at the oasis. He could see the surrounding desert, with many more hoofprints and cart tracks.

A convoy of cars was heading towards the oasis from the horizon. It stopped at a row of houses by the pool. People gathered and were unloading supplies, mostly wine jars.

The inn is built by the water, standing on the only vast lake in the desert for dozens of miles around. Its eaves are reflected in the water, and merchants and travelers from all walks of life stop here to rest. From a distance, it looks like a garment wrapped around the blue waves.

Although it was a desert inn, it gave Zhao Wumian the illusion of a scene from Jiangnan.

If Zhao Wumian had been traveling through the vast desert for a long time, he would have stopped his horse and come in for a drink when he saw the green curtains of this inn in the distance.

Above the blue curtain door stands a plaque that reads "Moyan Inn," meaning "an inn amidst the desolate smoke of the desert."

The inn was quite spacious, but it couldn't accommodate the large number of wandering travelers from the Western Regions. When Zhao Wumian rode over, the stables by the pool were already filled with many horses, including camels.

Zhao Wumian glanced around, wondering if Meng Po's mount was among them.

The room was bustling with activity, filled with the sounds of drinking and laughter.

Zhao Wumian found it somewhat novel... In this vast Western Regions, there was actually a place where there was no killing or fighting, which could be considered a rare pure land in the Western Regions.

Upon seeing the three arrive, the waiter stepped forward to greet them, raised his hand to take the reins of their horses, and said with a smile, "Is this your first time visiting Moyan Post Station, sir?"

Zhao Wumian dismounted and then helped Luo Chaoyan down. Hearing this, he nodded and said, "Want to introduce us to something? We're not here for tourism."

"Sir, you jest. Who among us comes to this heart of the Western Regions for tourism?" The waiter tilted his head back, led the two horses toward the stables, and said:
"Sir, this horse is worth a fortune, but in the Moyan Post Station area, you don't need to worry about thieves trying to steal it."

"Because your Moyan Post Station has a powerful backer who has established rules?" Zhao Wumian looked at the waiter's back. From his gait, he knew that the waiter was also a martial arts master, a grandmaster.

This lowly waiter possesses such martial arts skills; before becoming a waiter, he was probably a notorious outlaw in the martial arts world.

"The rules... are indeed the rules. In the territory of Moyan Post Station, you cannot kill, you cannot steal, you must know the law and abide by etiquette. You come to this place only to drink and make friends, and you must not fight... It all boils down to this."

The waiter smiled slightly and introduced the three of them, saying:

"But it's not because there's a powerful figure backing them up. This vast Western Region is full of talented people, and all the evil people in the world are here. Who would submit to whom? Even the leader of the Holy Sect, Shen Tu Bu Zui, is not worthy."

"Oh?" Luo Chaoyan became interested. "Then if someone breaks the rules, wouldn't no one be held accountable? What's the point of these rules then?"

Zhao Wumian, a seasoned veteran of the martial world, was well aware of this, and turned around with a smile:
"Wherever there are people, there is a martial arts world, but martial arts people are still people, and no one wants to live in constant fear... When traveling the martial arts world, one always needs a safe haven. If the rule against killing is broken, then this only safe haven within dozens of miles will also be gone..."

"That's impossible, because although this place doesn't have a powerful figure backing it, the people who do back it can be called the Jianghu of the Western Regions... Anyone who dares to break the rules will naturally be met with hostility and hunted down by all the Jianghu people of the Western Regions."

The waiter gave Zhao Wumian a thumbs up. "Absolutely right, sir. You're a seasoned traveler, so I won't waste my breath explaining... Just ask, are you here for a bite or to stay the night?"

"Seeking revenge."

The waiter froze on the spot. Fortunately, such troublemakers appeared every day, so he remained calm and directly reminded him:
"You know the rules, sir. If you find an enemy, you must wait until you leave Moyan Post Station before killing them. Otherwise, you certainly know the consequences better than I, the innkeeper..."

"I know." Zhao Wumian nodded slightly and tossed out a silver ingot. "Let's start with a hot meal."

"Okay, please have a seat!"

The inn's lobby was quite spacious, with fifty or sixty tables and chairs set up, enough to accommodate a banquet.

But there were even more martial arts practitioners from the Western Regions. By the time they arrived, the place was almost full, but fortunately there were still seats in the corners.

The three sat down, and Zhao Wumian placed the Qingxu Sword, wrapped in black cloth, on the table and looked around.

Yangshe Congyun was indeed there, drinking heartily, but his gaze kept drifting towards the inn's entrance, clearly waiting for someone.

Who are you waiting for?
Meng Po...

Zhao Wumian withdrew his gaze, raised his hand to lift his hood, and untied the white cloth covering his face. After the waiter served the wine, he untied the black cloth from Qingxu Sword, drew the sword from its sheath, and slowly and meticulously wiped the blade.

Yangshe Congyun awaits his enemy.

So why isn't he?

Green waters wipe the sharp blade from my robe, I sit alone in my lonely tower, awaiting the winds of my enemy.

(End of this chapter)