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

Chapter 493. A Wolf's Ambition Shattered by the Lamplight, A Hero's Courage Embraced by the Moonlight.
Shi Feiyang, Zhao Qingyi, and Ling Shuanghua returned to Bianliang City, each going back to their own home and their own mother.

Although Zhao Qingyi longed to be with Shi Feiyang every day, unfortunately, her status as a princess restricted her.

Shi Feiyang also returned to his Beggars' Sect branch—the "Rujia Inn" in Bianliang City—where he secretly met with elders of the Sun Moon Sect, including Qu Cheng and Lu Feng, as well as Beggars' Sect elders Li Wang and Li Ji, to plot how to further weaken the military power of the Liao, Xia, Dali, and Tubo kingdoms. He hadn't left the house for half a month, much to the dismay of Zhao Qingyi, who was tormented by his longing. Every few days, the girl would disguise herself and go out, searching for Shi Feiyang in the vast crowds, but she could never find him, leaving her heartbroken!
In late spring at the Rainbow Bridge in Bianliang, the moisture was like an invisible brocade, enveloping the sounds of people and carriages coming and going. On this day, Shi Feiyang finally appeared on the street. The wind lifted a corner of his dark robe, revealing the ice silk wrapped around the Xuan Shuang Blade at his waist.

The silk thread gleamed faintly with silver light; it was the one he had peeled from the throat of the Western Xia envoy the night before, still carrying the lingering scent of blood. When the flower girl's bamboo basket bumped against his shoulder, half a basket of jasmine blossoms fell softly onto the bluestone slab, like scattered stars. The girl looked up, her gaze meeting his, and suddenly blushed. The flower hoe in her hand clattered to the ground, and she stammered, "S-Young master, please forgive me..." Her gaze lingered on the silver ring on his left ear, which shimmered in the setting sun, making the contours of his profile softer than the white marble bridge railing.

Shi Feiyang said calmly, "It's alright." He then bent down to help her pick up the flowers.

In an instant, her black hair fell down, covering half of her face, revealing only her well-defined jawline and a faint smile.

However, the moment his fingertips touched the petals, he was locked onto by a sharp gaze—on the second floor of the teahouse, Zhao Qingyi was using a silver hairpin to pick out fresh tea leaves. Her pomegranate-red dress shimmered with light under the window lattice, and the luminous pearl on her hairpin clearly reflected the reproach in her eyes.

Seeing this, she turned to the maid beside her and chuckled, "This wandering swordsman is even more handsome than the top courtesan of the brothel." The silver hairpin stirred ripples in the teacup, and she teased, "I wonder how good this young man's skills are, whether he is worthy of such a handsome appearance."

Before he could finish speaking, three Liao warriors had already kicked over the sugar painting stall at the bridgehead, and their spiked clubs, whistling through the air, were aimed straight at Shi Feiyang's back.

Shi Feiyang seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. With a light wave of his black sleeves, the skillful force of his "Transferring Flowers and Jade" technique flowed out like water, causing the spiked clubs to collide.

Amidst the crisp cracking of shattered metal, the warriors' swords plunged backward into their own abdomens, blood splattering onto Shi Feiyang's robe, which ironically made his skin appear even whiter and more lustrous. The last warrior's throat was bound by the silver threads of Shi Feiyang's Heavenly Silkworm Technique; the instant the threads tightened, the man's internal organs were crushed, and blood and foam gushed from the corner of his mouth.

As Shi Feiyang turned to look at the second floor of the teahouse, the silver earring on his left ear made Zhao Qingyi's heart skip a beat. "What skillful movements!" Zhao Qingyi exclaimed loudly on purpose, and suddenly threw her Ding Song sword down from the second floor, the red silk tassel of the sword wrapping around Shi Feiyang's wrist like a serpent.

When Shi Feiyang looked up, he met Zhao Qingyi's eyes, which were filled with inquiry and joy. It was just like the look in her eyes when she looked at him from the back of Zhuque in Helan Mountain—curiosity mixed with a bit of unyielding wildness, and a touch of tenderness that she herself did not even realize.

Shi Feiyang threw the Ding Song Sword back, and the Xuan Shuang Blade flashed coldly in the twilight, instantly shattering the secret letter at the waist of the Liao warrior.

"Princess's sword," his voice was clearer than the flowing water of the Rainbow Bridge, yet it spoke with a profound meaning, "should be saved to slay the truly wicked."

Zhao Qingyi's hand, which had caught the sword, was slightly hot. Watching Shi Feiyang turn and leave, she suddenly noticed a jasmine blossom stuck to the hem of his robe, which he had accidentally caught while picking flowers. She quietly tossed the blossom through the window crack, and it landed right next to his boot, like a silent promise.

……

The sound of the bell from Xiangguo Temple echoed through the morning mist, and the scent of sandalwood mixed with dew permeated every inch of the bluestone slabs.

Shi Feiyang's long hair was tied up with a wooden hairpin, creating a strange contrast with the ice silkworm jade on his wrist.

He had just stolen the Poison Sutra from the Western Xia First-Class Hall from the Sutra Repository, his cuffs still stained with cinnabar marks, when he turned and bumped into a soft embrace, the faint scent of medicine and sandalwood lingering around his nose. "Young Master, be careful." Ling Shuanghua's Emei dagger pressed against his lower back, her voice crisper than a temple bell.

Her plain white robe was damp with dew, and a white jade hairpin adorned her hair, the same color as the ice silkworm jade on Shi Feiyang's wrist. The moment their eyes met, the true energy of Mingyu Gong and Emei Nine Yang Gong trembled simultaneously, like two drops of ink falling into still water, spreading strange ripples in the air.

“A young lady from the Emei Sect,” Shi Feiyang chuckled, his dimples making the pilgrims around him stare in disbelief, “already getting handsy?” He suddenly spun around, the wind he created carrying the Poison Scripture brushing past Ling Shuanghua’s nose, and teased, “The ‘Bone-Rotting Incense’ from Yipintang, doesn’t it smell pungent to you, young lady?”

Ling Shuanghua's Emei dagger suddenly changed direction, deflecting a poisoned needle shot from the shadows—it was the "Shadowless Needle" of the Western Xia assassins, the end of which still bore the wolf emblem of Yipintang. She said solemnly, "Does Young Master Shi know that behind this poison manual lies the 'Yongle City Massacre' from thirty years ago?"

Looking into Ling Shuanghua's clear eyes, Shi Feiyang suddenly recalled the words on the Blackwood Cliff: "Emei Jiuyang, Ice Silkworm of the same origin." So there really were people in this world who understood him, without needing to say a word. Just as he was about to speak, he saw Ling Shuanghua take out a small brocade pouch from her sleeve, containing some dried herbs.

She said with concern, “This is ‘Seven Star Grass’,” her ear tips flushed red as she stuffed the brocade pouch into his hand and said teasingly, “It can cure the poison of ‘Bone-Rotting Fragrance’. I… I saw a cinnabar mark on your sleeve and guessed you’d been to the Scripture Pavilion. Behind the bookshelves there is Yipintang’s poisonous fragrance.”

Shi Feiyang's hand, clutching the brocade pouch, felt slightly warm. The scent of the herbs reminded him of the wound medicine Zhao Qingyi had used to bandage his wounds in Wolf Valley. He watched Ling Shuanghua's retreating figure, her white robes appearing and disappearing in the morning mist. Suddenly, he noticed a ginkgo leaf clinging to the hem of her skirt, fallen from the old ginkgo tree outside the Sutra Repository window. It seemed Ling Shuanghua had been waiting for him, standing there for quite some time.

The sound of the pipa from the Jiaofangsi (Imperial Music Bureau) was like a clinging vine, climbing up every lantern. Shi Feiyang, disguised as a musician, mingled at the banquet. He changed his black robe into a moon-white brocade robe, looking like a scholar taking the imperial examination. However, his eyes were too bright, and wherever he looked, all the noble ladies in the room stared at him.

Even the daughter of the Minister of Rites forgot her composure, not even noticing her silk handkerchief fall to the ground.

The Liao envoy was having a private conversation with the Duan family of Dali. A bronze incense burner before them held "love incense," and their voices were hushed amidst the rising smoke. As Shi Feiyang approached with a wine jug, the hem of his moon-white brocade robe swept across the corner of the table, stirring up wisps of incense ash that made the Western Xia envoy cough.

He chuckled and said, "The envoy's 'Bone-Melting Palm' is quite well practiced!" His fingertips "casually" brushed across the other's pulse point, and the silver threads of the Heavenly Silkworm Skill had already seeped into the other's sleeve along with the wine. He then said with a grin, "I wonder who would prevail if they encountered the Emei Sect's 'Four Symbols Palm'?"

The Western Xia envoy's expression changed drastically. Just as he was about to overturn the table, Shi Feiyang's "Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use" palm strike landed on the bottom of the table.

Suddenly, the entire rosewood table flipped over, and cups, plates, and broken porcelain all crashed down on the Third Prince Zhao Chengye. Meanwhile, Shi Feiyang had already taken advantage of the chaos to leap onto the beam, his moon-white brocade robe fluttering in the lantern light, like a night owl stealing food.

"What a handsome man!" Zhao Qingyi exclaimed. Her Ding Song sword caught the falling candlestick downstairs. Looking at the figure on the beam, she suddenly understood why her father always said, "Beauty is a weapon"—this person only needed to stand there to stir up a pool of spring water.

She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers, leaving marks on the embroidered twin lotus flowers under her nails, but in her heart she was thinking that he looked better in moon white than in lake blue, and that she should ask the embroiderer to make him a few moon white robes next time.

The Third Prince Zhao Chengye's Mountain-Splitting Axe was itching to strike at his waist. He slammed his wine cup heavily on the table and roared, "Where did this pretty boy come from? How dare he flirt with women in front of me? Does he have a death wish?" Before he finished speaking, a red shadow flashed by, and Zhao Qingyi's Ding Song Sword was pressed against the blade of his axe.

She teased, "Third brother," her phoenix eyes widening, her tone amused, and added playfully, "This musician plays the zither exceptionally well, so don't scare him." Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Shi Feiyang on the beam and saw him looking down at her with a faint smile on his lips. Her heart skipped a beat, and her cheeks flushed.

Just then, Shi Feiyang on the beam suddenly chuckled, and his moon-white brocade robe fell like flowing clouds, landing right next to Zhao Qingyi.

His Xuan Shuang Blade had been drawn at some point, its blade flashing a cold arc in the lantern light as it severed a poisoned arrow shot from the roof beam—it was a "bone-piercing nail" made by the Liao Kingdom's Southern King Yelü Hongji.

The arrow's fletching also bears a wolf's head mark.

"Yelü Hongji's dog arrived before its master." Shi Feiyang's voice was as cold as ice, and the poisoned arrowhead stuck to his moon-white brocade robe quickly froze in his palm. He looked out at the dark night sky and knew that a much larger storm was brewing over Bianliang City.

However, this is precisely the opportunity to weaken the Liao Kingdom!

Zhao Qingyi's Ding Song sword was pressed tightly against Shi Feiyang's Xuan Shuang blade, the red silk tassel of the sword intertwined with the hem of his brocade robe, like two fish unwilling to separate. Looking at Shi Feiyang's handsome profile, she suddenly felt that the pipa music from the music academy wasn't so unpleasant after all. As long as she could be close to him like this, she wouldn't be afraid even if the sky fell.

Ling Shuanghua's figure was hidden behind the pillars of the Jiaofangsi (Imperial Music Bureau), watching Shi Feiyang and Zhao Qingyi standing side by side, the Emei dagger in her hand trembling slightly. She took out the ginkgo leaf from her sleeve and gently placed it to her lips, as if she could smell the morning mist of Xiangguo Temple. She knew she shouldn't have come, but she still couldn't help wanting to see him, even if it was just a glimpse from afar, it would be enough.

……

A few days later, Yelü Hongji appeared in a dilapidated temple outside Bianliang City. His black robe fluttered in the wind, and the scars on his face gleamed menacingly in the candlelight. Twelve men in black knelt before him, each holding a brocade box containing the "gift" he had prepared to overthrow the martial arts world of the Central Plains. "Shi Feiyang's head," Yelü Hongji's voice was colder than the temple wind, and he said ruthlessly, "whoever obtains it will be rewarded with ten cities and the Poison Manual of Yipintang."

His fingertips traced the "Bone-Melting Palm" manual in the brocade box, his eyes filled with a greedy glint that seemed to want to devour the entire Central Plains.

“Your Majesty,” the leader of the men in black raised his head, his face covered by a bronze mask, and said sinisterly, “Shi Feiyang’s martial arts are unfathomable, and he also has the assistance of Zhao Qingyi and Ling Shuanghua. Most importantly, Shi Feiyang has two major Jianghu gangs under his command—the Sun Moon Sect and the Beggars’ Gang. It will be difficult for us to take them by force. However, I have a plan that can be used by the Song people to get rid of him.”

Yelü Hongji's eyes lit up, like a wolf in the dark, and he asked with delight, "What plan? Tell me! Tell me!"

“The Third Prince Zhao Chengye has long coveted the throne,” the man in black whispered. “We can lend him a hand and make him think that Shi Feiyang is a member of the New Party and wants to get rid of him. At that time, there will be internal strife in the Song Dynasty, and we can take the opportunity to provoke a conflict between the Song and Xia Dynasties, so that we can reap the benefits.”

Yelü Hongji's laughter echoed in the dilapidated temple, shaking the dust off the roof beams. He praised repeatedly, "Great plan! Brilliant plan! Good! Do it this way! Tell Zhao Chengye that I will send the 'Ghost-Faced Thief' to help him. As long as he can get rid of Shi Feiyang, I guarantee he can sit on the throne of the Great Song Dynasty."

After the man in black withdrew, Yelü Hongji gazed out the window towards Bianliang City, a cruel smile playing on his lips. His fingertips traced the wolf-head token at his waist, a symbol of Liao power and a testament to his ambition. He wanted more than just Shi Feiyang's head; he wanted the entire Central Plains, the vast empire of the Song Dynasty, and even the area from Luoyang to Chang'an in the Tang Empire.

Shi Feiyang appeared on the city wall of Bianliang, his moon-white brocade robe fluttering in the night wind. He gazed at the dark plains outside the city, knowing that Yelü Hongji's conspiracy was unfolding step by step. His Xuan Shuang Blade trembled slightly in his hand.

Zhao Qingyi's phoenix carriage stopped at the foot of the city wall. She had changed into military attire, replacing her hairpins with a helmet, but it still couldn't conceal her beauty. Gazing at Shi Feiyang's figure on the city wall, her heart pounded like a rabbit's.

She knew Shi Feiyang was going on an adventure, but she didn't stop him. She simply prepared the best warhorse and the sharpest weapons for him, as well as a jar of his favorite Xifeng wine.

"Shi Feiyang," her voice echoed in the night wind, "I'll wait for you to come back." Shi Feiyang looked down at her, the moonlight shining on her face like a layer of silver. He suddenly smiled, a smile more gentle than the moonlight, and said affectionately, "Wait for me to come back, and we'll watch the lanterns of Bianliang together."

Ling Shuanghua appeared at the Emei Sect's villa in Bianliang. She was wiping Emei thorns, the cold light of the needles reflecting on her face.

Her master, Abbess Jingxu, stood behind her, sighed softly, and said, "Shuanghua, I know you have feelings for Shi Feiyang, but he is from Tang, and you are a disciple of Emei. His coming to Song must have his sinister and ulterior motives. You two..."

“Master,” Ling Shuanghua interrupted her, saying firmly, “I only wish to lend him a hand, to eliminate Yelü Hongji, and to avenge the wronged souls of Yongle City. As for anything else, I dare not ask for more.”

Master Jingxu looked at Ling Shuanghua and knew her temperament; once she made up her mind, she would not change it.

She took out a manual from her sleeve and handed it to Ling Shuanghua, saying affectionately, "This is the complete version of the Emei Sect's 'Nine Yang Skill.' Take it; it might help him. Remember, be careful in everything you do, and don't forget that you are an Emei disciple."

Ling Shuanghua accepted the manual, tears welling in her eyes, and said gratefully, "Thank you, Master." She knew that this journey might be her last, but she had no regrets. As long as she could help Shi Feiyang, she was willing to pay any price.

That night, the city of Bianliang was unusually quiet; you could even hear the wind rustling through the treetops.

In the attic on the third floor of the Beggars' Sect branch, "Rujia Inn," candlelight flickered, illuminating Shi Feiyang's handsome face.

There were two slips of paper in front of him. One was written by Zhao Qingyi, with only four words: "I'm waiting for you to come back." The other was written by Ling Shuanghua, with only four words: "Be careful in everything."

Shi Feiyang picked up the two slips of paper, his fingertips gently tracing the handwriting, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He knew Zhao Qingyi's feelings and understood Ling Shuanghua's intentions, but he didn't know how to respond. His heart carried the weight of his country and the world, the wronged souls of Yongle City, and far too many responsibilities. He feared he couldn't give them the happiness they desired.

"Shi Feiyang." At this moment, Zhao Qingyi's voice suddenly came from outside the door, with a hint of hesitation. Shi Feiyang quickly hid the note, opened the door, and saw Zhao Qingyi standing outside in her pajamas, holding a jar of wine in her hands.

Her hair was loose, like a black waterfall, and her face was flushed, making her even more alluring than during the day. "I...I can't sleep, I wanted to have a drink with you." Zhao Qingyi's voice was a little stuttering as she handed the wine jar to Shi Feiyang.

Shi Feiyang took the wine jar and stepped aside to let her in.

The air in the room suddenly became thick and sticky. Neither of them spoke, and only the candlelight burned quietly.

“Tomorrow…” Zhao Qingyi finally broke the silence, her voice so low it was like a mosquito’s hum, and said with concern, “You must be careful tomorrow. Yelü Hongji is very cunning, and his men are also very capable.”

Shi Feiyang opened the wine jar, and a rich aroma of wine wafted out. He poured a cup for Zhao Qingyi and one for himself, saying confidently, "Don't worry, I'll be fine." Zhao Qingyi picked up her cup but didn't drink. She simply looked at Shi Feiyang and said affectionately, "Shi Feiyang, I know you have many things on your mind, and I know you... you might not have those kinds of feelings for me, but I still want to tell you that no matter what you do, I will support you, even... even if it costs me my life, I'm willing." Shi Feiyang felt as if something had pierced his heart, the pain rendering him speechless. Looking into Zhao Qingyi's sincere eyes, he suddenly felt incredibly selfish. All along, he had been avoiding her feelings, forgetting that she was also a woman who needed to be loved.

“Qingyi,” his voice was a little hoarse, and he said tenderly, “After this matter is over, I…” Before he could finish speaking, Zhao Qingyi suddenly threw herself into his arms, hugged him tightly, and choked out, “Don’t say anything, I don’t want you to promise anything, I just want you to be well and come back alive.”

Shi Feiyang held her in his arms, feeling her body temperature and trembling. Guilt and love intertwined in his heart, leaving him at a loss. He gently stroked her hair, as if caressing a rare treasure.

Ling Shuanghua appeared outside the window, gazing at the two embracing in the room, and tears finally streamed down her face. She took out the "Nine Yang Skill" manual from her sleeve, gently placed it on the windowsill, then turned and left, her silhouette appearing particularly lonely in the moonlight. She knew she should withdraw; perhaps in the first place, she shouldn't have entered Shi Feiyang's world.

Shi Feiyang and Zhao Qingyi embraced for a long time, until the candlelight was almost gone.

Zhao Qingyi raised her head, gently kissed Shi Feiyang's lips, and then ran out like a startled little rabbit.

Shi Feiyang touched his lips, as if he could still feel her warmth.

He gazed at the "Nine Yang Skill" manual on the windowsill, knowing in his heart that it was left behind by Ling Shuanghua. He picked up the manual, his heart filled with mixed emotions. Tomorrow was the day of the decisive battle. He didn't know if he would return alive, but he knew he had to go—for his country, for the people, and for the two women beside him.

The following day, beneath the walls of Bianliang, a vast, dark mass of soldiers stood in stark contrast to Yelü Hongji's army and the heroes of the Central Plains martial arts world. The atmosphere was tense, like a string about to snap. Shi Feiyang stood at the forefront, his Xuan Shuang Blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight, his moon-white brocade robe fluttering in the wind. His handsome face was expressionless, only his eyes held an unwavering resolve, like an unshakeable mountain.

Zhao Qingyi stood to his left, holding the Ding Song Sword tightly in her hand, her phoenix eyes gleaming with an indomitable light.

Her pomegranate red dress looked like a burning flame in the sunlight.

Ling Shuanghua stood to his right, the Emei dagger trembling slightly at her fingertips, her white robe fluttering in the wind like a pure white lotus. Her eyes held a hint of worry, but even more so, unwavering determination. As long as she could fight alongside Shi Feiyang, she was fearless, even unto death.

"Shi Feiyang," Yelü Hongji's voice echoed across the battlefield, laced with mockery, "I didn't expect you to actually dare to come. Do you know that today is your death day!" Shi Feiyang didn't speak, but simply raised the Xuan Shuang Blade, its blade gleaming in the sunlight in a cold arc, as if responding to Yelü Hongji's provocation.

"Kill!" Yelü Hongji shouted, his black robe billowing as his army surged forward like a tidal wave. Shi Feiyang raised his Xuan Shuang Blade high, its blade flashing like lightning as it slashed at the enemy. Then, he used the "Shifting Flowers and Jade" divine skill, skillfully manipulating the enemy's weapons to collide with each other, causing screams of agony to rise and fall.

Zhao Qingyi's Ding Song Sword was equally formidable; its red tassel coiled around the enemy's throat like a serpent, each strike swift, precise, and ruthless. Ling Shuanghua's Emei Daggers, on the other hand, moved like two streaks of white light, weaving through the enemy ranks, felling wherever they went.

The three forces clashed in a chaotic battle, with swords flashing and blood flying everywhere. Shi Feiyang's "Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms" were incredibly powerful. He unleashed moves such as "Regretful Dragon" and "Flying Dragon in the Sky" in turn, each palm carrying earth-shattering power, defeating Yelü Hongji's men in disarray.

Seeing this, Yelü Hongji personally drew his sword and engaged Shi Feiyang in battle. His swordsmanship was ruthless and cunning, each move deadly. Shi Feiyang's Xuan Shuang Blade clashed with his sword, producing a piercing metallic clang and sparks flying everywhere.

"Shi Feiyang, your death is near!" Yelü Hongji grinned maliciously, unleashing his ultimate move, "Howling Wolf at the Moon," his blade flashing like a wolf's head as it lunged at Shi Feiyang. Shi Feiyang's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly tossed the Xuan Shuang Blade into the air, his palms swung, unleashing the "Emperor's Heavenly Thunder" divine skill. The water vapor around him instantly condensed into ice, bursting forth with dazzling lightning under the impetus of his true energy.

The ice lightning collided with the blade shadow, creating a deafening roar that forced both of them to take several steps back.

Seeing this, Zhao Qingyi and Ling Shuanghua quickly stepped forward to help, and the three of them joined forces to fight Yelü Hongji. The Ding Song Sword, the Emei Dagger, and the Xuan Shuang Blade intertwined, like a blooming flower, beautiful yet deadly.

After a fierce battle, both sides suffered heavy casualties. Yelü Hongji's strength gradually gave out, and his moves became chaotic. Shi Feiyang seized the opportunity and used the "Slaying the Mortal World" technique from the Hundred Victories Blade Technique. The Xuan Shuang Blade slashed out like lightning, striking Yelü Hongji squarely in the chest.

Yelü Hongji screamed and collapsed to the ground, his dying breath a final, resentful gaze fixed on Bianliang City, his eyes filled with greed and regret. His men, seeing their commander dead, scattered in disarray. The heroes of the Central Plains martial arts world erupted in cheers: "Having fought a hundred battles in golden armor, Shi Lang's brilliant plan brought peace to the world!"

Looking at the corpses and blood scattered on the ground, Shi Feiyang felt no joy of victory, only endless exhaustion and sorrow. His moon-white brocade robe was soaked in blood, and the ice silk on his Xuan Shuang blade was stained red.

Zhao Qingyi and Ling Shuanghua walked to his side. Both of them were injured and pale, but their eyes were filled with smiles.

"We won." Zhao Qingyi's voice was weak, but full of joy. Shi Feiyang looked at them, nodded, but didn't say anything.

However, the price of this victory was too high.

The reconstruction of Bianliang City is proceeding in an orderly manner, and the people are gradually emerging from the shadow of war, with long-lost smiles returning to their faces.

Standing on the Rainbow Bridge, Shi Feiyang gazed at the scene before him, his heart filled with mixed emotions. Zhao Qingyi walked to his side, holding a jasmine flower in her hand, and gently tucked it into his hair, asking with a bittersweet voice, "Feiyang, it's time to make a choice, isn't it?"

Shi Feiyang touched the jasmine in his hair, then turned to look at Zhao Qingyi, whose phoenix eyes were filled with tears. "Qingyi," his voice was hoarse, "I..." "I know what you want to say," Zhao Qingyi interrupted him, a smile tinged with tears, and said sadly, "I won't force you. Whoever you choose, I will wish you well." Shi Feiyang looked at her, his heart filled with gratitude. He knew Zhao Qingyi's feelings, and he understood his own, but he couldn't forget Ling Shuanghua's silent sacrifices, nor could he forget his Tang Dynasty.

Just then, Ling Shuanghua appeared at the other end of the Rainbow Bridge. Her plain white monk's robe fluttered in the wind, like a pure white lotus flower.

She glanced at Shi Feiyang and Zhao Qingyi with a faint smile, then turned and left. Shi Feiyang watched her departing figure, understanding that she wanted to let him and Zhao Qingyi be together. He knew he would never forget her, that aloof yet gentle Emei woman.

“Go ahead,” Zhao Qingyi nudged Shi Feiyang, “go after her. I know you have feelings for her.” Shi Feiyang looked at Zhao Qingyi and said guiltily, “Qingyi, I…” “Don’t say anything,” Zhao Qingyi’s smile remained gentle, “True love is not about possession, but about letting go. I hope you will be happy.”

Shi Feiyang gave Zhao Qingyi a deep look, then turned and left.

He did not pursue Ling Shuanghua, but returned to Luoyang, where his Tang Empire was located.

He knew he owed Zhao Qingyi too much, perhaps he could never repay her in this lifetime, but he could not give up the world.

As Zhao Qingyi watched Shi Feiyang's retreating figure, tears streamed down her face.

……

The morning mist of Bianliang carried the scent of jasmine. Shi Feiyang's dark robe swept across the bluestone slabs of the Rainbow Bridge, knocking the jasmine flower Zhao Qingyi had tucked into his hair to the ground. The petals, glistening with dew, crumbled into tiny white fragments on the soles of his boots, much like the ginkgo leaf Ling Shuanghua had left on the windowsill of Xiangguo Temple—ultimately, it could not be held onto. At that moment, Li Tieniu appeared like a ghost, whispering, "Chief, an urgent report has arrived from Luoyang."

His green bamboo staff emerged from the mist, a copper bell on the staff tip wrapped with half a blood-stained garment. He said heavily, "The Second Prince Shi Qiying colluded with the remnants of the Tubo tribe to set up the 'Ten Thousand Buddha Formation' at the Longmen Grottoes, claiming it was to avenge Yelü Hongji."

Shi Feiyang's Xuan Shuang Blade flashed coldly in the mist, the blade reflecting the red in his eyes.

The blood that fell beneath Bianliang last night had not yet dried, but the jade silkworm on his sleeve was already glowing blue—it was the Imperial Seal of the Tang Dynasty resonating with him, and ominous purple mist was swirling above the dragon throne in Luoyang Palace.

He said sullenly, "Why are there so many troubles with my descendants? I, Shi, am fighting a bloody battle, while they are reaping the benefits without even knowing how to enjoy them! Why? Go! Tell Elder Qu that I want to see all the members of the imperial clan at Yingtian Gate at noon tomorrow."

Having said that, he leaped into the air, displaying the unparalleled lightness skill of "Leaving No Trace for a Thousand Miles," and merged into the air.

Li Tieniu gazed in the direction where he had disappeared, and suddenly noticed a red ribbon still wrapped around Shi Feiyang's hair—it was from the tassel of Zhao Qingyi's sword, and he must have accidentally caught it when he turned around. The red ribbon trembled gently in the morning mist, like a bloodstain that refused to leave, imprinted on the official road leading to Luoyang.

Outside Luoyang, on Mangshan Mountain, the ancient tombs gleam with a bluish-gray hue in the twilight.

Shi Feiyang's moon-white brocade robe was covered in dust, and the Xuan Shuang Blade was slung diagonally behind his back. Half of a secret letter was wrapped in ice silk on the scabbard. It was written in Xixia script: "Borrow the route through Tubo and take Luoyang directly." It was stamped with the camellia seal of the Dali Duan family.

"Pretty boy, you've lost your jade pendant." A clear female voice came from the cypress grove, tinged with a hint of mockery.

As Shi Feiyang turned around, he bumped into a girl in red. Her embroidered shoes were on his Ice Silkworm Jade boots, and she was playing with a golden dart in her hand. A dragon scale was hanging from the barb on the tip of the dart—it had been scraped off the sole of his boot.

The girl was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with red silk tied in her double buns and a camellia in her hair. When she smiled, she had two dimples at the corners of her mouth, just like the girl selling sugar paintings at the night market in Bianliang, or the flower girl who had bumped into him several times.

At this moment, she teased, "This jade belongs to the Tang Dynasty royal family, right?" Suddenly, she used a golden dart to lift the hem of Shi Feiyang's brocade robe, revealing a black outfit underneath, and then said jokingly, "Shi Feiyang, do you think that just because you changed your clothes, the Tibetan spies wouldn't recognize you?"

Shi Feiyang turned to the side, his gaze sweeping over the cypress grove behind the girl.

Twelve Tibetan monks with blood-stained swords were hiding behind a tree, each holding a blood-stained sword wrapped with human skin, the Sanskrit characters on the blades gleaming menacingly in the twilight—their "Blood River Formation" had been quietly set up, just waiting for him to make his move.

"The little girl has sharp eyes," Shi Feiyang suddenly chuckled, his moon-white sleeve brushing against the girl's hair as he plucked the camellia from her hair. He then added with a grin, "I just wonder, is your golden dart faster, or my Xuan Shuang Blade?"

The girl's golden dart suddenly flew from her hand, aiming straight for his throat. Shi Feiyang swung his palms, using the "Shifting Flowers and Receiving Jade" divine skill to redirect the dart. The golden dart shot back towards the Blood Saber Monk on the far east side, its tip piercing the monk's collarbone, and the blood droplets it brought out condensed into tiny blood flowers in the air.

Shi Feiyang turned to the side and laughed, "This move is called 'Inviting the enemy into the urn'," he said, shaking the camellia in his hand, and then asked with a grin, "Want to learn it?"

The girl cursed angrily, "Shameless!" Her tone made it sound as if Shi Feiyang was ambushing her, plotting against her. Suddenly, her red silk swelled up and wrapped around his wrist. The red silk was actually woven from celestial silkworm silk mixed with gold thread, and it was incredibly tough.

She snorted again: "My darts, Su Xiaoman's darts, have only ever been aimed at those who deserve them!" With a tap of her toes on the top of the ancient tomb, the woman in red rushed toward Shi Feiyang like a raging fire. The wind in her palm carried the "One-Finger Divine Skill" of the Dali Duan family—only more agile, like a leaping flame.

Shi Feiyang unleashed the "Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use" move from the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, a powerful palm strike that sent the ancient tomb's blue bricks flying and shattered the Tibetan monk's "Blood River Formation." He seized the opportunity to grasp Su Xiaoman's hand; her palm was even hotter than Zhao Qingyi's, the calluses on her knuckles brushing against his icy silk, trembling like a startled little animal.

Shi Feiyang exclaimed, "Are you from the 'Golden Wing Alliance'?" His fingertips traced the eagle emblem on her golden dart, the most mysterious intelligence organization in the martial arts world, which was said to be able to find out even the private money of the Prime Minister of the Western Xia Kingdom.

Su Xiaoman suddenly flipped her wrist and broke free. The golden dart pressed against his waist, but stopped when it touched his Xuan Shuang Blade. She said teasingly, "Young Master Shi is even more handsome than rumored." Her dimples were full of cunning. She teased, "It's a pity. In half an hour, you will become a sacrifice for the Tibetan monks. Their 'Ten Thousand Buddha Formation' requires the bloodline of a true dragon as a sacrifice."

Shi Feiyang laughed it off, not taking it seriously, and turned to walk towards the Mangshan ancient tomb complex. In one of the main tomb chambers, Shi Feiyang's Xuan Shuang Blade was stuck in the eye socket of the tomb guardian beast, the icy light of the blade reflecting off the flying apsara murals covering the walls.

Su Xiaoman's golden dart spun rapidly in her hand, the tip of which held a perpetual lamp that illuminated the twelve Arhat statues in the corner—each statue had a human bone bead embedded between its eyebrows, with the incantation of "Life and Death Talisman" engraved on the bead.

Su Xiaoman explained, "The Tibetan 'Ten Thousand Buddha Formation' was actually stolen from our Central Plains." Suddenly, she turned to the side, raised her long, beautiful leg, and kicked the Arhat statue on the west side. The statue collapsed with a crash, revealing the secret passage behind it.

She then said in a serious tone, "Look at this incantation, it seems to be the work of the Free and Unfettered Sect, only they have modified it into something incongruous." Shi Feiyang's Heavenly Silkworm Technique silver threads covered the secret passage like a spider web. The moment the silver threads tightened, twelve black shadows darted out of the passage, which were the "Blood Shadow Guards" of Tubo.

Their bone flutes sounded simultaneously, and the eternal lamp in the tomb suddenly turned green. Countless poisonous insects emerged from the foam rising from the lamp oil—the "Bone-Rotting Gu" of the Western Xia First-Class Hall. Shi Feiyang winked at Su Xiaoman and teased, "Little girl, your intelligence isn't very accurate." His "Emperor's Heavenly Thunder" divine skill suddenly activated, and the water vapor around him condensed into ice thunder, exploding in the center of the tomb.

The icy lightning struck the poisonous insect, instantly freezing it. With a crackling sound, the insect shattered into ice shards, mingling with the blood shadow guards' severed limbs, creating a bloody path. Su Xiaoman's red robes billowed in the icy mist, the arc of her golden dart perfectly concealing the flaw in Shi Feiyang's palm strike. She said, "Young Master Shi," her dart tip stained with the green blood of the poisonous insect, her dimples radiating a murderous aura as she smiled, then added self-deprecatingly, "Compared to Princess Zhao and Miss Ling, is my 'disruptive' skill even worth mentioning?"

Shi Feiyang raised his palm and slashed out again, using his palm as a knife. The knife energy split the bone flute coming towards him, and he laughed, "Little girl," his black hair gleaming in the icy mist, the silver earring on his left ear dazzling people, and he admonished, "It's not a good habit to pry into other people's private affairs."

(End of this chapter)