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

Chapter 412. The Shadowy Moon and the Hidden Currents
"Old Ghost's ability to hide his face has improved!" Shi Feiyang lightly touched the ground with his toes and leaped onto the eaves. He saw that the puppets in the courtyard were forming a Big Dipper formation, with Murong Hui standing at the center of the formation, the copper bell in his hand gleaming with a ghostly light.

He activated the Mingyu Gong "Limitless Asura's Human Purgatory", his skin became transparent as ice, and the icy blue true energy in his blood vessels reflected the ghost fire, actually condensing into ice crystal armor all over his body.

Nangong Jun clutched his shoulder wound, blood dripping from his Broken Mountain Blade onto the bluestone slab, leaving a grotesque pattern: "You little beast, spare my daughter, but give me back my son's life! Hmph! Today is your death anniversary!"

Shi Feiyang brandished the Xuan Shuang Blade at him: "Old bastard, your son cried and begged me to spare his life before he died—his voice was much more pitiful than yours now." The copper bell suddenly rang, and the puppets roared and rushed forward.

Shi Feiyang unleashed the "Hundred Victories Blade Technique: Slaying the Mortal World," and wherever his palm blade passed, the puppets' weapons melted like butter when heated.

He spotted Nangong Yuchuan's weakness and unleashed the "Breaking the Universe" move with immense force, only to be met by a dark figure that suddenly shoved aside the heavily injured Nangong Yuchuan—it was none other than Cui'er, Nangong Xiaodie's personal maid.

"Cui'er!" Nangong Xiaodie's exclamation came from the hidden compartment. Shi Feiyang's pupils contracted sharply, and he abruptly changed the direction of his palm strike, only to be blinded by the "Soul-Chasing Sand" that Murong Hui had thrown out. In the midst of the excruciating pain, he heard Nangong Yuchuan's sinister laugh: "Die!" The Yin Sha Claw pierced through his right shoulder, and the purplish-black poisonous mist spread along the wound, instantly corroding a bloody hole the size of a bowl.

"Shi Lang!" Nangong Xiaodie rushed out despite the signal, the sound of her soft sword being drawn shattering the silence.

Shi Feiyang crushed the antidote pill in his mouth, circulated the Heavenly Silkworm Technique to expel the poison, and silver threads wrapped around Nangong Yuchuan's arm like a spider web: "Xiaodie, retreat!" But she swung her sword at Murong Hui, her pink skirt fluttering in the bloody wind, like a thorny rose.

Murong Hui unleashed the Heart Gu, which transformed into a red snake that coiled around Nangong Xiaodie's ankle.

Shi Feiyang roared and unleashed "No Dogs Under Heaven," his Xuan Shuang Blade swirling like a reversed Milky Way, shredding the Crimson Serpent into bloody froth.

But then Nangong Jun seized the opportunity and swung his sword. The Mountain-Splitting Blade, carrying the power to split mountains and shatter rocks, actually shattered the ice crystal armor on Shi Feiyang's chest. "Pfft!" Shi Feiyang spat out a mouthful of black blood and staggered backward.

Nangong Xiaodie suddenly pressed her soft sword against her father's throat, her voice trembling but firm: "Move again, and I will die with him!" Nangong Jun's blade stopped three inches from Shi Feiyang's brow, a struggle flashing in his eyes: "Die'er, you actually did this for this bastard..."

"Shut up!" Nangong Xiaodie's tears fell onto Shi Feiyang's hand. "He is my life!" Murong Hui took the opportunity to throw out the Broken Yuan Sand again, and the foundation of the entire Nangong Wan began to crack.

Shi Feiyang, with great effort, picked up Nangong Xiaodie and leaped to the center of the courtyard. The Xuan Shuang Blade plunged into the ground, and the Nine Nether Ghost Fire instantly ignited the underground water veins. In the rising steam, he saw the sinister gaze of Murong Hui and the others before they fled into the secret passage.

"It's alright." Shi Feiyang wiped the blood from her face, but then noticed blood on her waist—the blood from the knife she had taken for him. His throat tightened, and he lowered his head to kiss her trembling lips, the salty taste of blood mingling with the sweet taste of tears.

In the distance, the faint sound of bells came from the direction of the Yihua Palace, startling the crows that filled the courtyard.

“Once you’re healed,” he said softly, his fingertips stroking her blood-stained hair, “I’ll take you to the Yihua Palace to see Lianxing make osmanthus honey, and then we’ll go to Shaolin Temple to steal the Yijinjing from the Sutra Pavilion to use as a pillow.”

Nangong Xiaodie smiled through her tears, but choked up again when she touched the wound on his back. Shi Feiyang forced himself to stand up, and Xuan Shuang Blade picked up the skull mask that Murong Hui had left behind: "The world is a long road, let's take our time—anyway, I have plenty of time."

As dusk settled, a bonfire lit up the ruins of Nangong Wan. Shi Feiyang sat on the broken wall, holding the unconscious Nangong Xiaodie in his arms, gazing at the starry sky. He gently stroked her brow with his fingertips and suddenly remembered the words of the Palace Mistress Lianxing: "The word 'love' is like a double-edged sword."

The warmth in my arms and the pain on my shoulder are both marks left by this sword.

"Shi Lang..." Nangong Xiaodie murmured in her sleep, her hands tightly clutching the hem of his clothes. Shi Feiyang lowered his head and gently kissed her forehead, a cynical smile playing on his lips—what did it matter what grudges and feuds there were in the martial world? As long as the beauty in his arms remained, there was a tenderness worth protecting in this chaotic world.

Deep within the secret passage, Murong Hui touched the newly appeared sword wound on his face, staring viciously at the message pigeon in his hand: "Palace Mistress Yaoyue, I have ascertained the information you requested..."

As the sound of pigeon whistles pierced the night sky, Shi Feiyang suddenly looked up towards the direction of Yihua Palace, a hint of vigilance flashing in his eyes.

Nangong Xiaodie in his arms let out a soft hum, and he lowered his head to coax her, "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Amidst the ruins of Nangongwan, the campfire crackled, and sparks drifted like fireflies into the deep night sky.

Shi Feiyang leaned against the collapsed beam, Nangong Xiaodie still unconscious in his arms. Her dark hair, soaked with cold sweat, clung to her pale cheeks, and the white cloth wrapped around her waist was stained with dark red blood. He carefully tucked the brocade quilt back into place, his fingertips inadvertently tracing the fine lines between her brows, a dull ache rising in his heart.

"Don't be afraid, it's all over now," he murmured softly, his voice so gentle it seemed as if he were afraid to disturb the tranquility that followed the ordeal. Suddenly, a clear, melodious pigeon whistle pierced the night. Shi Feiyang looked up and saw a gray-feathered carrier pigeon fluttering its wings across the waning moon, the moonlight gilding its feathers with a silver edge. The red ribbon around the pigeon's neck fluttered in the wind, like a bleeding wound.

The scene exploded in his mind like a thunderbolt. The character "moon" that Xiao Chong had carved on his palm before his death suddenly became crystal clear. Shi Feiyang's pupils contracted sharply, and the veins on his hand gripping the Xuan Shuang Blade bulged as the blade scraped against the bluestone with a piercing sound.

He recalled how, when Murong Hui broke into the forbidden area of ​​Yihua Palace, the restrictions that should have been indestructible turned out to be as fragile as paper; he recalled how, in the Peach Blossom Formation, the Breaking Yuan Sand always landed precisely at the core of the formation; and the Stone Formation, a mechanism that outsiders would find difficult to crack even after a lifetime of effort, yet Murong Hui entered it as if it were his own backyard.

"So that's how it is..." Shi Feiyang sneered, his laughter filled with self-mockery and chilling killing intent.

He finally understood why the Palace Master of Yaoyue Palace always appeared at crucial moments, yet always allowed Murong Hui to escape; and why the martial arts manuals of Yihua Palace were repeatedly stolen, yet no clues could be found.

That seemingly cold and aloof beauty was actually manipulating everything in secret.

Nangong Xiaodie stirred in his arms, her eyelashes trembling slightly: "Shi Lang... what's wrong?" Her weak voice pulled Shi Feiyang back from his thoughts. He looked down at the person in his arms, the murderous intent in his eyes instantly turning into tenderness: "Nothing, just remembered some interesting things."

He reached out and brushed away the stray hairs from her forehead, his fingertips brushing against her cool skin. "Once you're healed, let's go to Jiangnan to see the apricot blossoms. I've heard that even the wind there is sweet in spring."

Nangong Xiaodie forced a smile, but she keenly sensed the gloom in his eyes: "You're lying to me." She struggled to get up, but the movement aggravated her wound, causing her to cry out in pain. Shi Feiyang hurriedly pressed her down: "Don't move! What if the wound reopens?"

"What exactly happened?" Nangong Xiaodie grabbed his sleeve, her eyes filled with worry and determination. "We agreed that there would be no more secrets." Shi Feiyang remained silent for a long time, then looked up at the still-high crescent moon. The moonlight shone on his blood-stained clothes, like a layer of frost.

“Xiaodie, tell me… what if the person you trust most has actually been using you all along? What should you do?” His voice was low and hoarse, as if squeezed from the deepest part of his chest. Nangong Xiaodie was taken aback, then gripped his hand tightly: “I don’t know who that person is, but I know that no matter what happens, I will stand by your side.”

A resolute light shone in her eyes, "Just like the countless times you've stood in front of me." Shi Feiyang felt a warmth in his heart and hugged her even tighter. In the distance, the sound of bells tolled from the direction of Yihua Palace, echoing in the silent night sky like a death knell. He gently stroked Nangong Xiaodie's back, but his gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, fixed on the palace standing amidst the clouds.

"Yaoyue, oh Yaoyue," he murmured to himself, "Do you think your ambition won't be exposed just because you're hiding under ice sculptures and jade carvings?" Thinking of the innocent smile of Palace Mistress Lianxing and the osmanthus cakes she baked herself, Shi Feiyang felt a sharp pain in his heart.

He suddenly realized that perhaps Lianxing was just a pawn in this conspiracy, a cover for Yaoyue's ambitions.

By this time, the carrier pigeon had disappeared into the night, but Shi Feiyang knew that Murong Hui was merely a tool in Yaoyue's hand, a tool already stained with the blood of too many people. Xiao Chong's death and Nangong Wan's downfall were only the beginning of this conspiracy.

"I'd like to see how long you can keep your dream of dominating the martial arts world!" Shi Feiyang's lips curled into a dangerous smile, his Xuan Shuang Blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

He lowered his head and kissed Nangong Xiaodie's forehead, whispering, "Sleep well. When you wake up, everything will be different."

Nangong Xiaodie finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. Shi Feiyang gently laid her down and got up to walk to the center of the courtyard.

A night breeze blew, rustling the fallen leaves and broken tiles on the ground. He gazed in the direction of the Yihua Palace, circulating his Mingyu Gong (a martial arts technique), his skin gradually glowing with a crystalline luster, and the icy blue true energy in his veins surging like a turbulent tide.

"The trick of 'transferring flowers and replacing jade' is nothing but a smokescreen." He muttered to himself, a vortex of suction force emanating from his palm, slowly drawing up the surrounding pebbles. "The real killing move is hidden beneath that seemingly aloof mask."

Recalling the restrained yet domineering aura that Yaoyue exuded each time she used the Mingyu Skill, Shi Feiyang had already made up his mind.

The distant howls of wolves sounded particularly mournful against the silent night sky.

Shi Feiyang gripped the Xuan Shuang Blade tightly, and the Nine Netherworld Ghost Fire on the blade reignited.

“Come on, Palace Master Yaoyue,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with unwavering determination. “Let’s see if your ambition is colder, or my blade is sharper!” As the last spark extinguished in the night, Shi Feiyang turned and walked toward the sleeping Nangong Xiaodie. His shadow stretched long and thin in the moonlight, like an insurmountable barrier, protecting the rare tenderness in this chaotic world.

(End of this chapter)