Wuxia: Become the 100-Victory Sword King at the Beginning

Chapter 349. A Gilded Mask Conceals a Treacherous Scheme; A Jade Sword and Divine Blade Break Through a Deceptive Formation.

The warm breeze from Liaodong, carrying the fragrance of jujube blossoms, swept over Xueying Fortress, and the gray-blue city walls shone with an ancient luster in the sunlight.

As the Vermilion Bird spread its crimson wings and pierced the sky, the Dog-Beating Sticks in the hands of the Beggars' Sect disciples who were practicing simultaneously froze in mid-air.

The shadow of the stick suddenly stopped, startling the copper bells on the eaves to jingle. More than three thousand pairs of eyes stared wide-eyed—the star-like spots on the tail feathers of the divine bird shimmered like flowing fire, carrying the gang leader Shi Feiyang, who had been missing for a day and a night, and the girl with a light veil covering her face in his arms.

These beggars had never seen such a beautiful girl as Lin Ruoxue.
"My goodness!" The old beggar with the gap-toothed tooth trembled, and the half-eaten cornbread rolled into the dust. In that instant, he felt as if he had fallen into a beautiful dream.

Several young disciples forgot their seniority, craning their necks and standing on tiptoe, completely unaware that their straw sandals were stepping on their companions' insteps.

The little beggar with his pigtails rubbed his eyes, put the dog-beating stick in his mouth, and stretched out over the wall with both hands, looking like a raccoon peeking through a window. Zhu Yu glided past the carved eaves and landed steadily in the center of the training ground.

Shi Feiyang landed lightly with Lin Ruoxue in his arms. Before the sound of his boots rolling over the blue bricks had even faded, the crowd surged in like a tide.

A burly man with a thick beard was pushing so hard that he spilled half a jar of wine from his gourd at his waist, but he didn't even notice. He was too busy staring wide-eyed at the girl and exclaimed, "This girl is even more beautiful than the fairies in the New Year's paintings!"

Several old women huddled together, whispering to each other while covering their mouths with their dirty sleeves, fine wrinkles appearing at the corners of their eyes from laughing.

The old beggar, who was wiping the wine jar, suddenly dropped it with a thud, chipping it on the table. Wine dripped from the crack onto the floor. He paid no heed to the pain, craning his neck and opening his mouth, drool almost dripping onto his clothes.

Several young disciples, forgetting their seniority, stared intently at Lin Ruoxue's white skirt, only to be slapped hard on the back of the head by their elders: "You little brats, haven't you ever seen a beauty before? Hurry up and greet the leader's wife!"

Suddenly, the crowd parted to make way for Fan Jie, the white-haired "Giant Spirit Palm," who strode forward, leaning on his dragon-headed cane.

The old man's cloudy eyes suddenly shone with an astonishing brightness, and he rubbed his calloused hands on his coarse cloth shirt, looking just like a naive young man meeting his sweetheart for the first time.

He slammed his cane down heavily, making the wine jars by the wall vibrate: "Well done, Chief! You went out for a stroll and actually brought back a fairy for our Snow Eagle Fortress!" Amid the laughter, Shi Feiyang raised an eyebrow and retorted.

Lin Ruoxue quietly looked around and saw the short disciple standing on tiptoe, peering through the gaps in the crowd, his head turning left and right in sync with Shi Feiyang's movements.

The man with a pockmarked face grinned foolishly, drool dripping from his chin onto his patched-up clothes; several little beggars simply climbed up a tree, swinging their toes as they watched with great interest, the broken bowls at their waists jingling.

As we walked through the corridor filled with cured meat, the old woman carrying water was so excited that she almost slammed the wooden bucket over her head, not even noticing the water splashing all over her.

Inside the inner hall, a disciple was intently mending a burlap sack. Even when he pricked his hand with a needle, he didn't complain. Instead, he craned his neck to eavesdrop on the conversation between his two fellow disciples, not even bothering to untangle the burlap sack's threads, which were now a tangled mess.

Several disciples huddled together in the corner, pushing and shoving each other as they tried to peek through the crack in the door. The short one, pressed against the wall, was still desperately trying to stand on tiptoe.

As dusk deepened, the campfire cast a rosy glow on everyone's faces.

The lamb leg sizzled on the grill, its aroma mingling with the smoke from pine branches, drifting into the night sky. Fan Jie slammed two jars of strong liquor onto the stone table, making the dishes clang loudly. His disciples squatted or sat in a circle around him.

Some listened intently, hugging their knees, their eyes wide open; others rested their chins on their hands, their mouths half-open; still others waved their fists excitedly, accidentally knocking over the wine bowls beside them, their trouser legs soaked with wine, completely unaware.

When Shi Feiyang recounted the thrilling parts, everyone held their breath, not daring to even breathe heavily; when he got to the exciting parts, cheers erupted throughout the courtyard, and some people jumped up excitedly, knocking over the wooden stools behind them without a care.

Lin Ruoxue sat in the corner, holding a rough pottery bowl, staring blankly at the flickering flames.

She had never seen such fervent gazes—those calloused hands, hair streaked with grass, and patched-up clothes, all now shone with a sincere and passionate light, more dazzling than any jewel she had ever seen before.

The summer night in Liaodong, accompanied by the murmur of the pine trees, silently seeped into Snow Eagle Fortress. Inside the council hall, the flickering candlelight cast long and short shadows on the walls, creating a vibrant scene of the martial world.

Lin Ruoxue leaned against the carved window frame, her gaze fixed on Shi Feiyang the entire time, as if drawn by invisible threads, unable to look away even a fraction. In her childhood memories, she had seen the most dazzling pearls on the painted boats of Jiangnan, but at this moment, in her eyes, Shi Feiyang's clear, glass-like eyes were even more radiant than those pearls.

His silver hair was casually tied up, with a few bits of grass mixed in. He wore a coarse cloth short shirt, the front of which was half open, revealing his muscular waist and abdomen.

Recalling their first meeting, she coldly rebuked him as a "lecher," but now, looking back, her heart is filled with regret and sweetness.

The little beggar next to her stood on tiptoe and handed her a golden-brown, honey-dripping sweet potato, the heat of which made her shiver slightly.

The boy grinned, revealing a gap in his missing tooth, through which the wind blew: "Sister, try this! This sweet potato is even more delicious than the bear paw from Lin Family Fortress!"

Lin Ruoxue came to her senses and gently stroked the rough skin of the sweet potato with her fingertips. She suddenly remembered that three days ago, Shi Feiyang had done the same thing, using his calloused hands to carefully blow on the warm medicine soup to cool it down before bringing it to her lips.

This pure and genuine enthusiasm brought tears to her eyes.

Since I came here with Shi Feiyang, every morning an old woman would bring me wildflowers covered in morning dew, and say with a smile, "These wild azaleas are in full bloom, just like a young girl's eyebrows and eyes."

As evening fell, her disciples, carrying medicinal herbs, eagerly surrounded her, telling her, "Sister, this is the wound-stopping herb, and this is the Paris polyphylla, which can cure all poisons..."

However, in her heart, there was only that figure strategizing under the candlelight.

As he turned to instruct Old Zhou to set up the trap, Lin Ruoxue suddenly felt a pang of resentment at her own powerlessness.

If she were stronger, could she share more of his burden? When they first met, she saw him as a liar. Later, when she called him "Chief Xiang," she was full of distance. Then, when she called him "Brother Xiang," she was shy and dependent. And now, the name "Tian Ge" is on her lips. Each change in address hides her increasingly surging emotions.

At that moment, the candlelight cast his shadow on the wall. She longed to push through the crowd, smooth his slightly furrowed brow, and tell him, "Tiange, you've protected me so many times. This time, it's my turn to protect you." But she only gripped her skirt tightly, letting her heart pound like a drum, letting her gaze greedily trace his silhouette.

It turns out that in this bloody and turbulent world, she had already willingly become his most loyal follower. Even if there were mountains of knives and seas of fire ahead, she would be happy to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

Lin Ruoxue stood there quietly, her eyes filled with deep affection and longing as she watched him survey the landscape by candlelight. She secretly vowed that she would be his strongest support for the rest of her life, accompanying him through all the trials and tribulations of the martial world.

Just as she was lost in thought, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside the village. A disciple hurriedly burst open the hall door, the wax-sealed challenge letter in his hand still lingering in the cold air.

"From Black Tiger Stronghold!" The disciple's voice trembled. "Black Bear Stronghold Chief has given us three days to..."

Before he could finish speaking, the challenge letter had already landed lightly in Shi Feiyang's palm.

Shi Feiyang used the tip of his knife to pry open the wax seal, and the firelight illuminated the hideous writing on the silk. Suddenly, he threw his head back and burst into laughter, which startled the swallows on the beams, causing them to scatter in panic: "This black bear is quite impatient. Our Beggars' Clan can take this opportunity to establish our authority!"

Fan Jie, the "Giant Spirit Palm" expert, took a closer look, his long, snow-white eyebrows furrowing into a deep frown.

The old man slammed his cane heavily on the ground, making the wine jar vibrate loudly: "Chief, you must not underestimate him! That Black Bear is proficient in the 'Thirteen Forms of the Black Tiger' from beyond the Great Wall; his iron palms are enough to shatter rocks and split monuments, and he commands three hundred elite warriors..."

"And his 'Black Wind Formation'!" a disciple interjected, "It's made by mixing wolf dung with sulfur and burning it, the fumes are so strong that people can't open their eyes!"

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly became tense, except for Shi Feiyang, who was playing with the corner of the challenge letter, the silkworm silk wrapped around his fingertips shimmering with a faint light.

Lin Ruoxue gripped her skirt tightly, her nails almost digging into her palms: "Tiange, we..." Before she could finish speaking, Shi Feiyang turned around and took her cold hand in his, his glassy eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight: "Ruoxue, do you think Black Tiger Stronghold is stronger, or Lin Family Fortress?"

Fan Jie was taken aback at first, then clapped his hands and laughed, even his white beard trembling: "Hahaha! Although Lin Family Fort has the Ten Thousand Beasts Formation and the Blood Droplets, it was still utterly defeated by the gang leader!" He suddenly leaned closer, winked at Lin Ruoxue, and said in a low voice: "Don't worry, young lady, our gang leader's Heavenly Silkworm Skill is so powerful that even the King of Hell would have to give way!"

Lin Ruoxue watched the two of them smile at each other, and her tense heartstrings suddenly relaxed.

She recalled the bloody battle at the Ten Thousand Beasts Manor, the warmth of Shi Feiyang shielding her with his own flesh and blood; she recalled the cold compassion in his eyes when he used the Heavenly Silkworm Silk to shred the enemy's meridians.

The flickering candlelight made Shi Feiyang's profile even clearer, adding a touch of breathtaking heroism to his face.

"Three days from now, I'll see if this 'Black Tiger Thirteen Styles' can break my Heavenly Silkworm Skill." Shi Feiyang got up and opened the window, and the night wind from Liaodong, carrying the distant howls of wolves, rushed into the hall.

He gazed at the dark sky, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. "And let the martial arts world of Liaodong know—our Beggars' Clan's Dog-Beating Stick can not only slay vicious dogs, but also subdue ferocious tigers!"

The crowd in the hall roared with approval, the sound so loud it seemed to break through the roof and startle the stars in the sky.

As Lin Ruoxue gazed at Shi Feiyang's back, which was glowing red in the firelight, a surge of warmth welled up in her heart.

Perhaps this is the world of martial arts, a place of both brutal violence and unwavering loyalty. And she is willing to hold her sword tightly, stand shoulder to shoulder with the man before her, and journey together through this ever-changing martial world.

The scorching sun of Liaodong baked the bluestone gate of Black Tiger Village, and the dust that rose up, carrying the smell of blood, swirled in the air.

Shi Feiyang, leading twenty elite soldiers from Snow Eagle Fortress, trampled through the rubble, his cloak fluttering behind him. His glassy eyes reflected the blood-stained tiger-head flag before Black Bear Stronghold. The stronghold gate swung open with a roar, and Black Bear's towering body stood atop the steps, his spiked club as thick as a bowl, the barbs still glistening with half-dried flesh.

"You little beggar dares to run wild in Liaodong? Don't you know this is your Black Grandpa's territory? You dare to start a gang and recruit disciples here without asking your Black Grandpa?" Black Bear's roar made the copper rings on the village gate vibrate. The spittle from his bushy beard mixed with the smell of alcohol. "You should have gone back to your dilapidated temple three days ago. Now... you'll probably come in upright and leave horizontally!" Behind him, hundreds of henchmen brandished rusty weapons. The sound of blades clashing startled vultures on the cliff edge. Their flapping wings were filled with bloodlust.

Shi Feiyang slowly reached into the mysterious deerskin bag at his waist. As soon as the emerald green dog-beating stick appeared, a clear and melodious dragon's roar echoed through the valley.

The cloud patterns carved on the bamboo stick gleamed with an eerie light, flowing like living things in the sunlight: "Black Bear, you abducted women and ambushed caravans. Today, I will avenge the blood debts of the people of Liaodong with interest!"

Before the words were even finished, the black bear pounced like a mad tiger, the force of its spiked club carving a half-foot-deep furrow in the ground. The Snow Eagle Village members cried out in alarm, only to see Shi Feiyang lightly touch the ground with his toes, displaying the unparalleled lightness skill of "Concealing One's Person and Name".

His figure floated up as lightly as a willow catkin, his clothes fluttering as he circled around to the black bear's side. The dog-beating stick drew a mysterious arc, precisely the "tripping" technique of "pushing the dog to the sky," the bamboo stick accurately striking the opponent's wrist pressure point.

The black bear grunted, and his spiked club flew out of his hand, crashing heavily onto the stone steps. The flying pebbles smashed into the heads of two henchmen, causing them to bleed profusely.

"Attack together! Slaughter these beggars!" Black Bear swung his numb wrist, his eyes bloodshot. The Black Tiger Stronghold's henchmen swarmed forward with strange howls, their blades flashing and a deadly net forming. The twenty elite soldiers of Snow Eagle Stronghold were fearless, their dog-beating sticks clashing with their broadswords, sparks flying everywhere.

Shi Feiyang's eyes flashed like lightning as he fought the black bear while scanning the battlefield. He saw that among the Black Tiger Stronghold's henchmen were many skilled fighters wielding poisoned hidden weapons, and that two of his own brothers had turned black, clearly suffering from severe poisoning.

His heart sank, and his crystal-clear eyes suddenly flashed with golden light, his true energy surging like a raging tide. "Brothers, today we'll beat a drowning dog to a pulp! Kill!" With a roar, Shi Feiyang thrust out his palms, their palms gleaming with silver light. Countless celestial silkworm threads, like a reversed Milky Way, wove a giant net three zhang square in the air.

Those henchmen at the forefront felt a chill on their skin as silver threads pierced through their clothes and entered their acupoints.

To their horror, they discovered that their internal energy was flowing back like water from a burst dam, and their internal organs were cracking and popping under the crushing force of the true energy.

Dozens of people simultaneously vomited blood from all seven orifices, and blackish-red pieces of internal organs splattered on their companions, with screams rising and falling.

The wind and sand of Liaodong, carrying the smell of rust, lashed against the crumbling walls of Snow Eagle Fortress. Fan Jie's long, snow-white beard fluttered in the strong wind. Holding a dragon-headed cane, he slammed it heavily on the ground, his voice booming: "Young men, let me show you the power of this old man's bones!" As soon as he finished speaking, he charged into the crowd of Black Tiger Stronghold like an arrow released from a bow. A faint golden light emanated from his palm, the long-lost "Giant Spirit Palm."

Sun Biao, the third leader of Black Tiger Stronghold, nicknamed "Poison Dragon Hand," grinned menacingly as he charged forward. His ten fingers were coated with deadly poison, and his claws gleamed with a ghostly blue light: "Old man, are you tired of living?"

Fan Jie neither dodged nor evaded, but instead unleashed his "Hundred Sons and Thousand Grandsons" technique with both palms. His palm shadows bloomed like lotus flowers, instantly transforming into nine illusory images.

Sun Biao felt the golden light in front of him suddenly intensify, as if his chest had been hit by a huge boulder, and he was thrown away, with black blood seeping from his seven orifices at the same time.

"Who else dares to challenge me!" Fan Jie's voice was like a booming bell, making everyone present feel a pain in their eardrums.

Wang Qi, the chief martial arts master of Black Tiger Stronghold, known as "Iron Arm Vajra," roared and swung his spiked club, sending sand and gravel flying everywhere.

Fan Jie slightly shifted his body, skillfully using the "Soaring Clouds and Riding the Mist" technique to nimbly evade the attack, and then delivered a "standard" backhand strike to Wang Meng's back.

This seemingly ordinary palm strike contained a skillful combination of strength and gentleness. Wang Meng groaned as his spine snapped, and he collapsed to the ground, convulsing in pain. Lin Ruoxue, dressed in white, wielded her long sword, creating a series of dazzling sword flowers.

Zhang Bao, nicknamed "Smiling Tiger," the second-in-command of Black Tiger Stronghold, sneered as he brandished his nine-section steel whip: "Little lady, wouldn't it be nice to come back to the stronghold with your brother and enjoy a peaceful life?"

Lin Ruoxue's eyes were like frost as she swiftly unleashed the "Snow Dance Returning Wind" technique from the "Longevity Swordplay," her sword tip striking Zhang Bao's throat like a snake spitting its tongue.

Zhang Bao hurriedly used his steel whip to defend himself, but heard a "crack" as the whip, made of fine steel, was severed by a single sword strike.

Before he could react, Lin Ruoxue had already closed in, and with the "Sword Pointing to the Sky" move, the tip of her sword pierced through his brow.

Zhang Bao fell backward, his face covered in blood. After convulsing for a while, he died a gruesome death. "What superb swordsmanship!" A woman in red leaped out from the crowd. She was none other than the "Blood Hand Guanyin," the wife of the Black Tiger Stronghold.

She held a willow-leaf knife in each hand, the blades engraved with strange runes, which was the evil Western Region technique "Blood Soul Knife Technique".

Lin Ruoxue remained calm and composed, lightly touching the ground with the tip of her sword to propel herself into the air, unleashing the "Wind Sweeps Away Clouds" technique.

Amidst the fluttering white robes and crisscrossing sword energy, Blood Hand Guanyin's twin-blade attack was completely neutralized. Facing the combined assault of the four guardians of Black Tiger Stronghold, Fan Jie unleashed "Sunset at Sunset." His palm strike, like the afterglow of the setting sun, appeared gentle but concealed deadly intent.

The four guardians felt their internal energy being drawn together by an invisible force, causing it to collide with each other involuntarily.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Fan Jie unleashed a "Jiangdong Dongliu" strike, the palm wind like a surging river, causing the four men to cough up blood and fly backward.

Seeing the situation was dire, Blood-Hand Guanyin changed her swordsmanship, unleashing the deadly move "Blood Rain and Bloody Wind" from the "Blood Soul Sword Technique." The willow-leaf blade traced eerie arcs, distorting the air in its wake, and black blood seeped from the ground.

Lin Ruoxue leaped lightly into the air, her longsword dancing with thirty-six sword flowers—the signature move of the "Longevity Sword Technique," "Twin Blossoms." The sword flowers collided with the blade shadows, emitting a piercing shriek, and Blood Hand Guanyin's twin blades shattered inch by inch.

Immediately afterwards, Fan Jie approached Black Wolf, the deputy leader of Black Tiger Stronghold, and used the "Lone Goose Lost from the Flock" move of the "Giant Spirit Palm" to block his retreat. He then unleashed the "Wandering Soul's Lament" move to disturb his mind, followed by the earth-shattering "Peak Entering the Clouds" move.

He raised both palms high, golden light bursting forth from them. His palm force transformed into a golden pillar that shot straight into the sky before crashing down. Black Wolf raised his club to meet the attack, but with a "crack," the club shattered into pieces. His massive body was slammed into the ground by the force of the palm strike, breaking into fragments that merged into the mud.

Upon seeing this, the Blood-Handed Guanyin turned to flee.

Lin Ruoxue would not let this opportunity pass; she thrust her longsword forward, unleashing the move "Chasing Stars and Catching the Moon."

The sword tip, like a shooting star, pierced the opponent's back in an instant. Blood-Handed Guanyin stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the sword tip protruding from her chest, then slowly collapsed to the ground. Corpses littered the ground, and the Black Tiger Stronghold's banner lay fallen in a pool of blood.

Seeing this, the black bear was terrified, but still brandished its newly acquired iron spear and charged forward: "You're asking for death! Taste the power of my Black Tiger Thirteen Styles!"

His moves were fierce and powerful, each strike carrying the force to split mountains and shatter rocks. Wherever his iron spear passed, the air emitted a piercing shriek.

Shi Feiyang sneered, and the Dog-Beating Stick suddenly transformed into a sky full of bamboo shadows, which was the ultimate skill of "No Dogs Under Heaven".

The bamboo sticks moved like serpents emerging from their holes, casting shadows in all directions.

The black bear could only see lush green bamboo shadows before its eyes, and no matter how it resisted, the tip of the stick was always aimed at its vital points.

He desperately swung his iron spear to block, but with a crisp "crack," the spear was broken in two by the bamboo stick!

"Today I will send you to see the King of Hell!" Shi Feiyang seized the opening, raised his left hand, and the silkworm silk that came out of his palm wrapped around the black bear's neck like a serpent.

With a pull of his strength, he lifted the other person's massive body into the air.

The black bear's face turned purple, and it frantically scratched at the silver thread with both hands, but only left a few bloody marks on its neck.

As Shi Feiyang channeled his inner energy, his eyeballs bulged out of their sockets, and his skin visibly withered away, eventually turning him into a hunched, dried-up corpse that crashed heavily to the ground. Seeing their leader's gruesome death, the Black Tiger Stronghold's henchmen scattered like birds and beasts.

Shi Feiyang withdrew his Heavenly Silkworm Technique, surveyed the mess on the ground, and lightly tapped the bluestone with his Dog-Beating Stick, the splattered blood droplets blooming like red plum blossoms: "Pass on my order—all the wealth that Black Tiger Stronghold has oppressed the people of Liaodong shall be distributed! If anyone dares to commit further evil..."

He paused, his glassy eyes sweeping over the fleeing henchmen. "My Beggars' Sect's Dog-Beating Stick is ready at any time!"

The mountain wind swept past the corpses, whipping up the cloak of flying stones.

Lin Ruoxue rushed over from a distance, her eyes filled with worry and admiration.

Shi Feiyang reached out and wiped the sweat from her forehead, saying softly, "Don't worry, I'm here." At that moment, even the scorching sun of Liaodong seemed to soften, bathing the two heroes of the martial world in a golden glow.

The summer night breeze in Liaodong carried the scent of pine resin, sweeping across the eaves of Snow Eagle Fortress. Inside the council hall, candlelight illuminated the joy on the faces of everyone present. Fan Jie, holding a dragon-headed cane, beamed, his beard trembling with laughter: "Elder Peng and Elder Liu have come from afar, adding much glory to our Liaodong branch!"

Before he finished speaking, the sound of horses' hooves suddenly rang out outside the hall. A man dressed in gray dismounted, the double hooks tied to his back and the wine gourd wrapped around his waist still swaying – it was Lu Chenzhou, who had just returned from the Northwest.

Shi Feiyang quickly stepped forward and exchanged a handshake with Lu Chenzhou to show their friendship.

Lin Ruoxue stood quietly in a corner, her gaze fixed on Shi Feiyang's figure.

Today, he was dressed in a dark blue outfit, and his every move exuded both the majesty of the Beggars' Sect leader and a touch of nonchalance.

She gazed at the curve of his lips, her thoughts drifting back to the warm skin she touched with her fingertips as she bandaged his wounds the night before, and a blush involuntarily crept onto her cheeks.

Elder Peng stroked his goatee and carefully examined him: "What an outstanding young man! I haven't seen you for several months, and you've not only managed the Liaodong branch perfectly, but you've also won the company of a beautiful woman!"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the hall smiled.

Ms. Lin Ruoxue lowered her head shyly, but couldn't help but secretly look up. When she saw Shi Feiyang winking at her, her heartbeat suddenly became irregular.

Lu Chenzhou patted his wine gourd and laughed: "Miss Lin, you may not know this, but our Beggars' Sect's Jingxiang branch is full of hidden talents, and the Northwest branch is even more full of masters. As for the Jiangnan branch..." Before he could finish speaking, Lin Ruoxue was already engrossed in listening.

She never expected that the man she followed would possess such a vast influence throughout the martial arts world.

In those years she didn't participate in, how many trials and tribulations did he endure to win the hearts and minds of heroes from all sides?
After dinner, everyone dispersed. Ms. Lin Ruoxue, holding a warm cup of tea, lingered for a long time in front of Shi Feiyang's door. Inside, the candlelight flickered, illuminating his figure standing with his hands behind his back. She pressed her ear to the door and heard him sigh softly, his voice revealing weariness and longing.

"Wei Rou... Yan Fei..." Shi Feiyang's whisper was like a feather brushing against the crack in the door. Lin Ruoxue's heart tightened, and she almost dropped the teacup in her hand.

It turned out that he already had someone he cared about. But then she thought, it would be surprising if someone as talented as him didn't have anyone who reciprocated his feelings. Just being able to stay by his side, even if it was just silently watching over him and protecting him, would be enough for her.

She took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door: "Tiange, I...I've come to bring you some tea."

There was a moment of silence in the room, followed by footsteps. When the door opened, the surprise in Shi Feiyang's eyes had not yet faded, but when he saw the teacup in her hand, a smile appeared on his lips: "Thank you for your trouble."

Lin Ruoxue handed him the teacup, her fingertips accidentally touching his palm, and she quickly withdrew them as if she had been electrocuted.

She lowered her head, her voice barely audible, "I heard from Brother Lu that the peach blossoms at the Jiangnan branch are blooming exceptionally beautifully..."

Before she could finish speaking, she realized it was inappropriate and hurriedly added, "But the snow scenery in Liaodong is also very beautiful. When winter comes, I... I want to go see it with you."

Looking at her flushed ears, Shi Feiyang suddenly felt that the summer night in Liaodong was even more sultry than the plum rain season in Jiangnan.

He took the teacup, but as he looked down, he noticed a loose thread on her skirt—it was from when she had accidentally snagged it while mending his clothes earlier that day. A corner of his heart softened, and he blurted out, almost unconsciously, "Ruoxue, shall I take you to patrol the village tomorrow?"

Lin Ruoxue looked up abruptly, her eyes sparkling with surprise, as if she had received the most precious gift in the world: "Really? I... I will definitely follow you closely, learn how to protect Snow Eagle Fortress, and learn how to share your burdens!"

She clutched the hem of her skirt, her mind filled with his words, even the bitterness she felt earlier had turned into sweetness.

As night deepened, Lin Ruoxue left with such light steps that it seemed she was about to float away.

Shi Feiyang watched her departing figure. The tea in his hand had long since gone cold, but it still retained a faint jasmine fragrance—the scent of her hair.

The bright moon hung high outside the window. He gazed at the moon, his mind filled with countless thoughts, yet he also secretly looked forward to the time he would spend with her the next day.

Summer nights in Jiangnan are filled with the fragrance of lotus flowers and the chirping of cicadas. The carved wooden windows of Guihua Tower in Suzhou are half-open, and the Xiangfei bamboo curtains sway gently in the breeze.

Zhou Weirou leaned against the rosewood couch, her moon-white silk nightgown slipping off her shoulders, revealing a section of her fair arm, as white as snow. The mutton-fat jade bracelet on her wrist made a soft, clear sound as she turned the pages of the "Mandarin Duck Manual".

The candlelight cast her shadow on the crimson gauze window, and the pearl hairpin at her temple trembled slightly, just like her chaotic thoughts at that moment. In the celadon vase on the table, the newly picked white lotus was withering, the edges of the petals turning a scorched yellow.

She suddenly tossed the book aside, walked barefoot to her dressing table, and the bronze mirror reflected the sorrow between her brows—her willow-leaf eyebrows were slightly furrowed, her phoenix eyes were veiled with tears, and her cherry lips were lightly bitten, leaving faint teeth marks. Her already beautiful face was now even more delicate and pitiful.

"Tiange..." she murmured softly to the bronze mirror, her fingertips tracing her cheek in the mirror, and for a moment she felt his warmth.

I remember on our wedding day, he held her face in his hands with the same tenderness, his crystal eyes filled with affection more tender than the spring waters of Jiangnan: "Rou'er, once I have quelled the turmoil in the martial world, I will accompany you to see all four seasons of Suzhou."

But now, as spring turns to summer, his letters grow thinner and thinner, filled with tales of snow and war in Liaodong.

She grabbed the wolf-hair brush from the table, but left clumps of ink on the rice paper. Just as she was getting annoyed, the watchman's gong sounded outside the window; it was past midnight.

Zhou Weirou walked barefoot across the cool blue bricks, pushed open the carved window, and gazed at the starry sky.

The night breeze lifted her skirt, revealing her slender ankles, yet she felt no chill. "If you were here, you would surely scold me for not taking care of myself."

She smiled bitterly, reaching out to catch a falling petal. "But without you by my side, what does this body matter?" She suddenly remembered this day last year when he personally adorned her hair with flowers. At that time, the peonies at Guihua Tower were in full bloom, and he said she was more beautiful than the flowers.

She turned back to the dressing table and took out her treasured sandalwood box.

Inside the box lay a crystal-clear jade pendant, engraved with the words "Male Cherry"—it was their token of love.

She pressed the jade pendant to her chest, closed her eyes, and felt as if she were back in his arms.

“You said that no matter how far apart we are, we will always be connected,” she murmured to herself. “Then can you feel how much I miss you right now?” Suddenly, she heard the sound of horses' hooves downstairs. Zhou Weirou rushed to the window, only to see an empty carriage drive past on the stone path. Her anticipation turned to disappointment, and she collapsed to the ground, tears finally streaming down her face. “You…you big liar…” she cried, then smiled through her tears, picking up the jade pendant and gently stroking it. “But I’m just so pathetic. Even knowing you lied to me, I still longed for you to come back…”

As night deepened, Zhou Weirou curled up on the couch, clutching the jade pendant. In a daze, she seemed to hear familiar footsteps. She abruptly opened her eyes, only to see the flickering candlelight. "It must be because I miss you so much..."

She stretched out her hand into the void, "Tiange, if you don't come soon, I'm afraid... I'm afraid this heart full of longing will never be able to hold it all..."

Outside the window, the night dew grew heavy, wetting the fallen flowers all over the ground.

In the Guihua Pavilion, the longing of the beauties is more lingering and enduring than the plum rains of Jiangnan.

In late spring in the Helan Mountains, the crisp air of melting snow filled the air. The watchtower of the Northwest Branch stood majestically in the twilight, like indestructible steel. Tu Yanfei leaned alone against the carved window frame, the moon-white sword tassel swaying gently in the mountain breeze, just like the turbulent thoughts in her heart.

She gently brushed the thin frost that had formed on the windowsill, but the chill from her fingertips was nothing compared to the longing that was spreading deep within her heart.

The sword intent of the Huashan Sword Sect's "Three Green Peaks of Taiyue" flowed and condensed into ice flowers on the window paper.

She was dressed in a black outfit that accentuated her slender figure, and the green sword at her waist was the "Cold Star" bestowed upon her by the head of the Huashan Sect.

At this moment, the Big Dipper pattern on the scabbard, illuminated by the setting sun, reminded her of the shimmering light in that man's eyes. The red silk ribbon tied in her hair, though faded, was something Shi Feiyang had casually bought at a market in Jiangnan.

“Tian Ge…” she murmured softly to the void, but her voice was torn apart by the howling mountain wind.

On the desk lay a half-dried sheepskin map, densely marked with information about the Liaodong campaign.

Every day she would gaze at the map, pondering his composed command at Snow Eagle Fortress and imagining his dashing figure as he brandished his dog-beating stick.

Unconsciously, his fingertips traced the characters "Liaodong" on the map, making the sheepskin shine.

Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves came from outside the window. She darted to the window like a startled swan, her Qingfeng sword already drawn three inches from its sheath.

Once she realized it was a disciple from the branch returning, she silently sheathed her sword.

The moonlight fell on her shoulders, casting her lonely shadow on the ground, just like her solitary existence these days.

The teacups on the table had long since cooled, yet they still retained a faint aroma of Snow Top Green Tea—Shi Feiyang's favorite tea.

She took the long sword from the wall and began to practice the "Huashan Swordplay" under the moonlight. The blade sliced ​​through the night, bringing with it streaks of cold light, yet it could not match the warmth of that person's palm. Memories suddenly flooded back: at this time last year, he had held her hand and taught her how to break through the weaknesses of this swordplay.

His breath brushed against her ear: "Miss Tu's swordsmanship is fast, but it lacks a bit of gentleness..." At that time, she was annoyed by his criticism, but now, looking back, every word he said was full of tenderness.

"You said that once the martial world is at peace, you would take me to see the misty rain of Jiangnan." She raised her wine flask to the moon, tilted her head back, and drank the strong liquor in one gulp, the spiciness making her eyes burn. "But when will the martial world truly be at peace?"

As the wine sachet hit the ground, she suddenly noticed the frost flowers on the windowsill beginning to melt, water droplets sliding down the patterns, like the tears she had been holding back for so long. She slumped to the ground and pulled out the jade pendant she kept close to her body from her bosom.

The jade pendant was engraved with the words "Xiong Ying," its edges smoothed and rounded from her caresses. "I knew all along that you had more than just me in your heart..." she kissed the pendant lightly, "but I'd rather be the fool, knowing you're wandering the world, yet still guarding this cold Northwest Tower, waiting for the day you return."

The mountain wind whipped up her loose black hair, which shone like silver silk in the moonlight.

The distant howls of wolves failed to break the silence inside the watchtower.

Tu Yanfei curled up in the corner, clutching the jade pendant, and fell into a deep sleep. In her dreams, she saw that person's smiling eyes and every word he had ever spoken. Outside the window, the cold moon over Helan witnessed the most ardent yet most lonely longing of these heroes of the martial world.

The early summer weather complements the scenery of Liaodong perfectly.

Above Snow Eagle Fortress, leaden-gray clouds seemed to foreshadow ominous killing intent. Three hundred elite warriors from Hunyang Palace and the elite troops from the Sticky Rod Bureau lined up ten miles away, their heavy black iron armor reflecting a cold light, and even the white mist exhaled by their warhorses carried a chilling aura.

Fan Jie, known as "Giant Spirit Palm," stroked his long, snow-white beard, his gaze fixed intently on the enemy ranks outside the stronghold, which resembled a swarm of ants. He tapped his dragon-headed cane on the bluestone slab with rapid drumbeats: "Chief, the Hunyang Palace has even brought the 'Thirty-Six Heavenly Guards' this time. I've lived to be a hundred years old; it wouldn't be too much for me to die. This battle will be fought by me!"

(End of this chapter)