I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

In the distance, wind and snow weighed down the mountains, but two people stood on the cliff top, one tall and one short, one calm and one fierce, like two iron rods nailed between heaven and earth.

Huai Mie stood at the front, letting the wind and snowflakes lash his face, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter and brighter.

He stared at the murderous aura surging below, his tongue slowly sweeping across the corner of his mouth, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white.

"What domineering power!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an barely suppressed excitement.

"This person's cultivation is quite profound, probably no less than Master's."

"If I weren't tied up with other matters, I would go down and meet him right now, to see if his Dragon Subduing True Force is more powerful, or if my Void-Breaking Yuan Hand is more ruthless."

Huai Kong stood beside him, his robes fluttering in the wind and snow, but his expression remained as calm as ever.

"Brother, now is not the time to compete."

"The peerless sword carries too great a weight; Master is waiting for it to save his life, and the rise and fall of the Iron Gate hinges on this one step."

"If you go down now, it won't be as simple as just a trial run."

Huai Mie sneered, "You're afraid I can't beat him?"

Huai Kong glanced at him. "I'm afraid you'll get carried away and mess things up."

Huai Mie was taken aback, then grinned, though a hint of malice lurked in his smile. "Your mouth is getting sharper and sharper."

Huai Kong didn't respond to that, but slowly said:

"This person's momentum is too strong, and he may have a backup plan. We are in the dark, while he is in the light. We have already gained the upper hand, so why rush things?"

Huai Mie remained silent for a moment, ultimately suppressing the fighting spirit surging within him.

"Very well, let him live a few more days."

"Once I get my hands on that peerless sword, I'll come back and twist his head off."

At this point, he suddenly withdrew his gaze and turned to look at Huai Kong.

"On the road to Tianshan, you go west, and I'll go east."

"Split up?" Huai Kong frowned slightly.

"Bai Ling is still waiting for me."

When Huai Mie mentioned this name, a crack appeared on his otherwise cold and hard face, and his voice lowered slightly.

"I'm worried about her being out there alone."

Huai Kong looked at his elder brother, and after a long while, he sighed softly.

"You always talk about killing this person or that person, but when it comes to her, it's like a piece of red-hot iron falling into water."

Huai Mie glared at him and said, "Enough with the nonsense."

Huai Kong chuckled and put his palms together, saying:

"Then we'll meet in Tianyin City."

"See you in Tianyin City."

As soon as the words fell, the two figures moved simultaneously, one to the left and one to the right, like two shadows swept away by the wind and snow, disappearing into the vast天地 (heaven and earth) in an instant.

As night deepened, moonlight streamed into the courtyard, casting a cold, white glow on the blue brick steps.

There was only one lamp in the room, its light dim, illuminating the boy's thin back and the old bundle that had been neatly packed away on the bedside table.

Long'er stood by the table and put the last piece of dry food in, her movements very light, as if she were afraid of waking up the house where she had lived for many years.

There wasn't much in the bundle: a few changes of clothes, a water bag, some dry food, and nothing else.

He was never a materialistic person, much less someone who would look back and cling to things he was attached to, but when it came time to leave, his movements slowed down a bit.

It's not that I'm reluctant to part with the things, it's that I'm reluctant to part with these past few years.

The light flickered, making the sword-shaped birthmark between his eyebrows appear slightly red.

That face, which should still bear the innocence of a young boy, always carried a coldness that was out of place for his age, like a sword hidden in its sheath, which everyone knew would be drawn sooner or later.

He blew out the light and pushed open the door to go out.

Under the moonlight, Long Xiu and Feng Wu were already standing in the courtyard.

Feng Wu seemed to have been waiting for a long time, still clutching a worn-out cloak in her hand. When she saw him come out, her eyes reddened first.

Long Xiu stood to the side, her back ramrod straight, but her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly inside her sleeves.

Long'er paused, but did not speak.

For a moment, the courtyard was so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard.

Finally, Feng Wu couldn't resist any longer. She quickly took two steps forward and draped the cloak over his shoulders, her voice trembling.

"It's cool at night, and you never put on more clothes."

"When you're out in the world, no one's watching over you. If you're hungry, cold, sick, or injured, no one will care about you. You child..."

"Are you really that heartless, just leaving like that?"

Long'er glanced down at the cloak on her shoulders, her fingertips twitched, but she ultimately didn't take it off.

"Mother, fledgling eagles must eventually leave the nest."

Feng Wu's tears fell instantly.

"I know you want to leave, and I know I can't stop you, but how old are you?"

"Don't you know what kind of place it is outside?"

"That's not our courtyard, not a place where your father can simply raise his hand to shield you from the wind and rain; that's the world of martial arts."

"I know."

"What do you know!" Feng Wu's voice suddenly rose, and her tears rolled down even more fiercely.

"Do you know how painful it is to be cut by a knife? Do you know how wicked people can be? Do you know that some people smile and talk to you, but can turn around and kill you?"

"You think you can just say 'I know' and send your mother away?"

Long'er stood still, neither dodging nor arguing, but simply watching her quietly.

His gaze was so deep, so heavy that it didn't seem like that of a teenager, but rather like that of someone who had walked too many roads and seen too much blood.

Feng Wu felt a lump in her throat under his gaze, her voice softened, and she reached out to touch his face.

"It's not that I want to stop you, it's just that I'm afraid that if you leave, you'll never come back."

Long'er's eyes finally stirred, like a frozen lake being gently parted by the wind. He didn't say he would come back.

Long Xiu then slowly stepped forward, put his hand on her shoulder, and helped her steady herself.

He looked at Long'er with a deep gaze, as if he were looking at the child he had raised for many years for the first time.

"Long'er, your father knows you have big ambitions and aspirations."

Long Xiu spoke very slowly.

"Learning swordsmanship doesn't necessarily require going outside."

"If you're willing to stay home, I can teach you all my skills, every single move."

"The art of 'Kuaiyimen' may not be the most unparalleled in the world, but it's not something anyone can learn just by wanting to."

Long'er looked up at him, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it possessed an indescribable sharpness.

"Father, you have quite a talent."

Long Xiu was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to ask such a question. "And then?"

"What a pity."

"What's a pity?"

Long'er looked at him, her voice calm to the point of being cold.

"It's a pity that he was held back by the swordsmanship of the Kuaiyi Sect."

The wind in the courtyard seemed to stop suddenly.

Feng Wu raised her head, and Long Xiu froze in place; both of them were stunned.

Long Xiu has traveled around for years and seen all sorts of crazy people, but this is the first time that a teenager has told him to his face that his swordsmanship is no good.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything immediately.

Feng Wu became anxious first.

"Long'er, how dare you speak to your father like that!"

Long'er didn't retreat; instead, she took a step forward.

The moonlight shone on his face, making his undisguised aloofness even more apparent.

"Father's sword, though swift in its strikes, lacks pure energy; though its techniques are numerous, its spirit is not concentrated."

"It's enough against ordinary people, but against a top swordsman, such swordsmanship will only become more chaotic and faster, leading to defeat."

Long Xiu's expression changed several times. First, she was stunned, then she was unconvinced, and then she slowly calmed down.

Because Long'er is right.

He may not be able to explain some of his flaws, but after so many years of practice, he can't help but feel them.

However, since everyone in the Kuaiyi Sect practices this way, over time, they have come to accept those subtle differences as normal.

But this child saw right through it.

Feng Wu looked at Long Xiu, then at Long Er, and for a moment she didn't know how to persuade him.

Long Xiu remained silent for a long time, then suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

"Good, good indeed! Speed ​​is not chaos, and intention is not disorganization."

He stared at Long'er, as if trying to see through the boy completely.

"What kind of sword do you want to practice?"

Long'er raised his head, and the moonlight fell into his eyes, like light falling into a deep well, illuminating the bottomless depths.

"The sword I practice is not for momentary pleasure, not for showing off, and not for bringing fame to any sect."

"I am walking my own path of swordsmanship."

"I don't necessarily have to follow the path that others have walked; I don't necessarily have to learn the swords they have wielded."

"What I want is a road that no one has ever walked before."

Feng Wu was shocked, but Long Xiu detected a resolute determination in this madness that even he dared not touch lightly.

That's not just youthful bravado; it's a deep-seated conviction that even if there are mountains of knives and seas of fire ahead, they will overcome them step by step.

After a long while, Long Xiu slowly exhaled, as if she had finally accepted it.

"Since you've made up your mind, I won't stop you."

As he spoke, he took a package from his pocket and handed it over.

"There's something I should give you as well."

Long'er took it, opened it, and saw a short sword that was entirely black, and a tiny folded sheepskin map inside.

The short sword had no scabbard, and its blade was so black that it barely reflected light, yet it exuded a chilling aura.

As soon as Long'er's fingertips touched it, the birthmark between her eyebrows felt slightly warm, as if something had awakened from its slumber for a moment.

His expression changed slightly.

"This is……"

Long Xiu said in a deep voice:

"Left by your biological mother."

Upon hearing this, Feng Wu's eyes welled up with tears again.

Long Xiu continued:

"When she entrusted you to us, she only left these two things."

"The black sword's origin is unknown. I've tried many methods, but none of them can harm it in the slightest."

"As for this map, I can't tell where it is, but I know it's probably related to your background."

"Before she died, she only said one thing: 'If one day you decide to enter the martial world, I will entrust these two things to you.'"

Long'er looked down at the black sword, and a genuine flicker of emotion finally crossed her eyes.

"What kind of person was my mother?"

The question was asked very softly, yet it silenced both Long Xiu and Feng Wu.

Feng Wu wiped away her tears and whispered:

"She was beautiful, but she also suffered a lot."

Long Xiu took over the conversation,

"When she appeared before us, she was already badly injured."

"His body was covered in blood, but his eyes showed no fear whatsoever."

"That day she held you, and didn't utter a single cry of pain."

"When she handed you over to us, she asked for only one thing."

Long'er looked up. "What is it?"

"Please live."

The courtyard was deathly silent.

Long'er's grip on the short sword tightened almost imperceptibly.

Feng Wu looked at him and finally spoke the words she had been holding back for so long.

"Long'er, I know you're ambitious, and I know no one can keep you here, but promise me one thing, okay?"

Long'er didn't say anything.

Feng Wu looked at him with red eyes.

"Don't live your life like a cold, lifeless piece of iron."

"In the world of martial arts, having a sword isn't enough; you always need something to care about, something to feel alive."

"If you ever really can't hold on any longer, remember to come home."

Long'er's Adam's apple bobbed slightly. After a long pause, she responded softly, "Okay."

That one sound was enough.

Feng Wu laughed through her tears, and stuffed a small cloth bag she had prepared beforehand into his hand.

"Inside are some loose silver and some medicine. I made the medicine myself. Apply it whenever you bleed, and don't be stubborn."

"Also, if you meet someone on the street who is pretty and has a sweet tongue, don't believe them too much, lest you be scammed out of everything."

Long Xiu coughed beside him.

"What kind of talk is that?"

Feng Wu glared at him.

"What, did I say something wrong?"

"His face and his personality are the most troublesome."

Long Xiu, rendered speechless by her outburst, simply took an old wooden plaque from her waist and handed it to Long Er.

"This is an old token of the Kuaiyi Sect. Even if you don't like the sect's swordsmanship, it's not shameful to have this token."

"If you really encounter an insurmountable obstacle, mention my name, Long Xiu, and it might offer some protection."

Long'er looked at the old wooden plaque that had been worn smooth and shiny, and without refusing, put it away.

He stepped back and bowed solemnly to the two of them.

"Father, Mother, I will remember your kindness in raising me."

Feng Wu's tears, which she had just stopped, started falling again. She turned her head away, unable to look at her anymore.

Long Xiu stood firmly, though her voice was a little hoarse.

"Go ahead, and if you're going to walk your own path, don't look back."

Long'er straightened up, and without further hesitation, turned and left the courtyard.

The moonlight stretched his shadow long, thin, yet straight, like a sword fresh from the furnace, yet to be truly stained with blood.

Feng Wu gazed at that retreating figure and suddenly murmured:

"Brother Xiu, with his talent and temperament, if he could see his master..."

The image of that figure in blue carrying a zither floated into her mind, and her heart ached.

Long Xiu slowly shook his head.

"The nameless senior's sword is a sword, but Long'er's sword may not be the same sword."

"That kid won't live like everyone else."

Feng Wu said softly:

"I just hope his journey won't be too painful."

Long Xiu gazed at the night outside the courtyard gate without saying a word.

The path of life in the martial world is always arduous.

Some people can get through it, while others can't.

Once someone like Long'er really gets involved, he'll either be swallowed up by the martial arts world or stir up the entire martial arts world.

The great river surges forward, its turbid waves crashing against the shore.

A single-log bridge lies precariously between the two banks. The bridge is dilapidated and creaks when the wind blows, as if it might break into the river at any moment.

Long'er carried a bundle and walked along the ancient stone path.

The dust and grime of the journey couldn't suppress the coldness in his eyes; instead, it sharpened the aloofness that was beyond his years.

At the bridgehead stood a half-collapsed stone tablet, with a tattered flag leaning askew beside it, bearing five crookedly written characters:

Leave behind the toll.

Under the flag, four burly men sat in a circle around a wine jar, with knives, forks, and sticks lying around them, and chicken bones that had been gnawed on haphazardly at their feet.

The group was drinking heavily, their faces and necks flushed, when they saw Long'er approaching, they all narrowed their eyes.

"Yo."

The first to speak was a scarred man with a face full of fat, a string of copper coins he'd stolen from somewhere hanging around his neck, and a jiggling belly when he stood up.

"Who do we have here? Turns out it's just a little kid carrying a bag."

The tall, thin guy next to him smiled sideways.

"Brother, these days young punks are all so bold, daring to walk this road all by themselves."

Another man, missing a front tooth, took a swig of liquor and exhaled a strong stench of alcohol.

"The fact that you've made it this far means you have some skill or ability."

"No money is fine too; just leave your belongings behind, and you can get through."

Finally, the dark-faced man who hadn't spoken until now raised his head, his eyes the most sinister.

"This kid looks too young; he's probably some rich kid who's causing trouble."

"Brother, let's scare you a little first, you might start crying."

The group burst into laughter.

There was a dilapidated tea stall by the bridge, and an old man selling hot water was huddled inside. He was covered in dust and dirt, as if he had long been bullied by these people.

Seeing Long'er coming alone, a hint of pity flashed in the old man's eyes. He quickly gave him a meaningful look, his voice lowered to a whisper.

"Child, turn back, don't cross the bridge."

Scarface, with his pointed ears, swung his hand back and smashed the empty wine bowl he was holding.

"Old man, who gave you the right to interrupt?"

The wine bowl grazed the old man's shoulder, hit a wooden pillar, and shattered on the ground.

The old man trembled with fright and dared not utter another sound.

Long'er remained expressionless throughout, only giving those people a cursory glance.

"Get out of the way."

The two words that came out were as cold as the wind on the river.

Scarface was taken aback for a moment, then chuckled.

"Did you hear me? This brat told me to get out of the way."

The tall, thin man was also laughing so hard he was doubled over.

"Brother, I haven't seen someone who can put on such a show in years."

"His hair hasn't even fully grown in yet, but he talks like a martial arts master."

The toothless man stretched out his hand and pointed to the bundle on Long'er's back.

"Stop pretending. Just put your things down obediently. If we're in a good mood, we might let you crawl over there."

Long'er didn't look at him; her gaze was fixed on the tattered flag.

"You block bridges and roads, bully the old and oppress the weak, and you dare call yourselves江湖人 (jianghu people)?"

Upon hearing this, the expressions on everyone's faces darkened.

The dark-faced man held the short fork horizontally and said in a sinister tone:

"Kid, do you even know what the martial arts world is?"

"In the martial arts world, might makes right."

Long'er looked at him, her eyes as indifferent as the wind.

"So, are your fists big?"

The dark-faced man's expression froze, but the others beside him exploded.

"Damn it, he's so stubborn!"

Scarface spat and reached for Long'er's bundle.

"Let me loosen up your muscles first!"

This grab was swift and fierce; an ordinary child would be so frightened that their legs would go weak, let alone try to dodge it.

Long'er shifted her feet, her body as light as a leaf skimming across water, narrowly avoiding the large hand.

Scarface grabbed at empty air, staggered forward half a step, and was stunned.

The old man selling water by the bridge was also stunned; he opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Scarface, humiliated and enraged, grabbed the nearby ghost-head knife.

"You little bastard, you dare to hide!"

The words had barely left his mouth when the knife came crashing down.

This strike was heavy and fierce, carrying the slurring of alcohol and the intent to kill. It was clearly not meant to intimidate, but rather to cleave the person in two.

Feng Wu's words were still ringing in his ears, but Long'er's eyes remained completely unmoved.

In his view, this cut was too slow, too rough, and had so many flaws that it was almost too much to count.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, his shoulders slightly lowered, and he slid into the blade, his entire body pressed against it.

The dagger, accompanied by the wind, slashed past his ear and crashed into the bridge railing with a thud, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.

Scarface felt a blur before his eyes, and the boy was already beside him.

"What?"

Before he could finish speaking, he felt a numbness in his wrist, and his fingers loosened as if pricked by needles. The ghost-head knife clattered onto the bridge plank.

Long'er didn't turn around or look at him; she simply patted her sleeve lightly, as if brushing off a speck of dust.

"Is that all you've got? You dare to block people's way?"

This really ignited their anger.

"This is a tough problem! Let's take it on together!"

Upon seeing this, the other three burly men roared in anger, each drawing their weapons and charging forward in a pincer movement. The four sharp blades intertwined to form a net, blocking all of Long'er's escape routes, determined to tear her to pieces.