I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

"father!"

This time, Luo Xian was so embarrassed that she couldn't stay still.

She put the wooden ladle down beside the bucket, covered her burning cheeks, and turned to run outside.

"Daughter, I'll go heat up some wine for you!"

Before she could finish speaking, she had already lifted the curtain and rushed out like a startled deer, leaving only a gust of snowy wind at the doorway and the sound of her hurried footsteps.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The middle-aged man watched her flee in disarray and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

As the laughter subsided, the room fell silent again, with only the crackling of the stove fire and the occasional sloshing of the medicinal soup.

The middle-aged man slowly turned his head and looked at Huai Kong in the wooden tub.

Huai Kong still had his eyes closed, his expression seemingly calm, but his chest was heaving slightly faster than before, and even the veins on the sides of his ears seemed to be slightly tense.

Clearly, he hadn't missed a single word of the conversation between the father and daughter.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man's smile deepened. He suddenly leaned down, leaned close to Huai Kong's ear, lowered his voice, and spoke with a half-smile.

"Hey, you brat."

Stop pretending to be asleep.

"Tell me the truth, what about my Xian'er...?"

"Are you interested or not?"

A few days later, Huai Kong's injuries finally stabilized.

After nightfall, the wind and snow subsided considerably compared to the daytime.

A cold moon hung in the sky, its light shining brightly on the icy plain, as if a thin layer of silver had been laid across the entire world.

The old tree outside the cabin had long since withered, leaving only its twisted and gnarled branches standing alone in the snow.

But it was right under that withered tree that a flute melody suddenly drifted out.

The flute music was soft and clear, carrying far into the vast night.

At first, it was like a mountain stream, then it slowly flowed downwards, bringing with it an indescribable loneliness, as if someone had hidden their secrets in the holes of a flute and was blowing them out to the night wind.

Huai Kong leaned against the couch, having already closed his eyes to rest, but upon hearing the flute music, he still opened his eyes.

He put on a coarse cotton robe, pushed open the door, and went out.

Under the moonlight, Luo Xian was standing leaning against an old tree.

She held the flute horizontally with both hands, her hair gently blowing in the wind, her light-colored clothes swaying lightly against her body, making her look as if she had just emerged from the snow, clean and untouched by the world.

Huai Kong stood in front of the door, without saying a word, and listened quietly to the whole song.

Only when the last note faded into the wind did Luo Xian put down her bamboo flute and turn her face to the side.

Seeing that Huai Kong was already standing not far away, she was clearly taken aback for a moment, and then a slight blush rose on her face.

"Brother Huai, what brings you out?"

Her voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the night, "Did I wake you up?"

"No." Huai Kong shook his head and took a few steps closer to her. "You play the flute very well."

Luo Xian pursed her lips, and her eyes brightened slightly, like the glimmer of light breaking on the snow under the moon.

"real?"

"Really." Huai Kong glanced at the bamboo flute in her hand, then looked towards the endless snowfield in the distance, and whispered.

"It sounds very calming."

Luo Xian lowered her head and gently stroked the flute. After a moment, she whispered:

"It snows all year round here. Besides talking with my father, there's not much else to do on weekdays."

"When I was a child, I always thought that the outside world must be very lively, with many people, many stories, and many places I had never seen before."

As she said this, she looked up at Huai Kong, her eyes filled with a cautious longing.

"But I grew up on this snowy plain, and I've never left the nearest few snow-capped mountains."

"I only know what the martial arts world is like from what my father told me."

Huai Kong remained silent for a moment.

"The martial world isn't as wonderful as you think."

He spoke these words calmly, yet it sounded as if he were carrying a heavy burden.

"It is indeed lively outside, but lively places are often the places with the most trouble."

"Today you may be drinking and having fun with someone, but tomorrow you may be drawing your sword against them."

"There is gratitude, but there is also betrayal."

Some people live a life of great achievements, while others die without even a proper burial.

Luo Xian listened quietly, her fingers unconsciously tightening slightly.

"And what about you?" She suddenly looked up at Huaikong, her gaze lighter than the moonlight, yet filled with an undisguised seriousness.

"If one day you could stop dealing with these grudges and stop having to travel around, would you be willing to find a quiet place to settle down?"

Huai Kong felt a slight tremor in his heart.

He wasn't unaware of the meaning behind those words.

He had seen how Luo Xian had taken care of herself these past few days.

Luo Xian prepared medicine for him, changed his dressings, and kept watch over him at night. Even on the two nights when his high fever wouldn't go down, she stayed by his bedside, wiping his sweat over and over again.

Although Luo Xian didn't say it, the affection hidden in her eyes and brows was something Huai Kong, being no block of wood, could not possibly be unaware of.

If it were someone else, they might have already fallen for her.

But when Huai Kong closed his eyes, what he saw was not the cold moon in front of him, but the corpses on and off the iron gate, his master's unwilling eyes before his death, and the giant waves that Huai Mie had created when he fell into the sea.

The blood debts of his sect weighed heavily on his heart like pieces of iron.

He simply can't let go.

"Xian'er." Huai Kong finally spoke, his voice low and deep.

"It's not that I don't understand what you mean."

Luo Xian's eyelashes trembled slightly.

Huai Kong didn't look at her, but gazed at the snow-covered ground in the distance, which was bathed in moonlight, and said, word by word:

"But I'm carrying too much stuff."

"The revenge for my master, the debt owed to the Iron Gate, and the whereabouts of my elder brother..."

"I can't stop until these things are resolved."

"If I were to say I've let go now, that wouldn't be letting go, that would be running away."

As he finished speaking, he slowly clenched his fist.

"I can lie to you, and I can lie to myself, but I can't lie to the reason in my heart."

Luo Xian stared at him blankly for a long while before softly humming in agreement.

She didn't ask any further questions, but simply brought the bamboo flute back to her lips, yet she didn't manage to produce a single note.

The two stood side by side under the moon, one gazing at the distant snowfield, the other looking down at the flute in his hand, neither of them speaking.

The wind whistled through the old tree branches, making a soft, mournful sound, as if it were quietly blowing away unspoken words for someone.

After that night, Luo Xian never mentioned retiring again.

Huai Kong seemed to have focused all his attention back on practicing his martial arts.

Twenty days passed in the blink of an eye.

His injuries have mostly healed and no longer affect his ability to exert force.

Every day at the crack of dawn, he would walk alone into the depths of the icy plains, practicing his palm techniques, breathing exercises, and retracting his energy in the knee-deep snow, repeatedly pondering the methods of forging iron hands.

Huai Kong didn't understand the true secrets of the Iron Refining Hand technique; he could only rely on the fragments left by the Iron God and figure it out little by little on his own.

He was naturally gifted and willing to put in a lot of hard work. Over the past twenty days, he has repeatedly pondered and practiced, and he has actually managed to get a basic understanding of the subject.

As soon as the palm strike was unleashed, a faint sense of heat could be felt even in the cold wind.

At his most powerful moment, when he pressed his palm onto the ice rock, a ring of wetness would quickly appear where his palm landed, before freezing solid again a moment later.

But Huai Kong knew very well that he was still far from being a true iron-forging master.

With this level of skill, let alone killing Tie Kuangtu, it's hard to say whether he could even force the opponent to retreat.

Even if I stay here and bury myself in training, I may not make much progress.

He should go.

Once the thought pops into your head, you can't suppress it anymore.

The next morning, Luo Xian went out with a medicine basket on his back, saying he was going to the other side of the snow slope to pick some herbs.

Huai Kong stood by the window, watching her figure gradually disappear into the wind and snow. He remained silent for a long time before finally picking up his pen and writing a short message.

The letter was short, simply expressing gratitude, bidding farewell, and adding a reassurance that she shouldn't worry.

After finishing writing, Huai Kong folded the letter, walked to the main room, and solemnly handed it to Uncle Luo.

"Uncle, I can't stay any longer."

Uncle Luo took the letter, but didn't open it immediately. He just looked up at Huai Kong.

"Have you thought it through?"

"I've made up my mind." Huai Kong nodded.

"My staying here will only cause you trouble. The things outside need to be settled."

Uncle Luo stared at him for a moment, then sighed and put the letter in his pocket.

"I will hand her over to Xian'er when she returns."

He paused, then added, "She'll probably be sad for a while after you leave."

Huai Kong's eyes dimmed slightly, but he still clasped his hands and said, "I'm sorry to her."

Uncle Luo waved his hand, his expression remaining calm.

"Feelings can't be forced. Since you've thought it through, then go ahead. Just be careful, though, the road ahead may be difficult."

"Thank you, sir."

Huai Kong bowed deeply, then turned and walked towards the courtyard gate.

As soon as he pushed open the wooden door, a wave of heat, hotter and more intense than usual, suddenly rushed towards him!

Huai Kong was startled and almost instinctively stepped back to the side.

The next instant, a burst of crimson fire tore through the night, slashing down like a meteor and striking the roof of the wooden house squarely!

With a loud bang, the wave of fire exploded outwards.

The snow on the roof instantly evaporated into a cloud of white steam. Then, the entire wooden house seemed to have been doused with kerosene, and flames shot up several meters high, turning half of the snowfield red.

"What's going on?!"

Huai Kong's expression changed drastically. Just as he was about to turn around and rush in, a shrill, distorted shout came from behind him.

"father--!"

Luo Xian had returned from the other side of the snow slope at some point, and his medicine basket fell to the ground, rolling all over the snow with herbs.

She rushed toward this place like a madwoman, her tears flashing and shattering in the firelight.

"Xian'er, don't come any closer!"

Uncle Luo suddenly stepped forward, forcefully pushing Huai Kong half a zhang away, and ended up blocking the doorway himself.

Huai Kong was both surprised and anxious: "Uncle!"

At the end of the snowstorm, a figure dressed in a crimson robe slowly walked towards them.

The person was not walking fast, but with each step, the snow at their feet would immediately collapse and melt, turning into a pool of black snow water with wisps of white smoke rising continuously.

Even more terrifying was that two balls of crimson flame were always wrapped around his palms, the flames flickering slightly with the movement of his palms, making his face appear to be lit up and dark, like a demon crawling out of the fire.

Huai Kong's heart sank when he saw the flames swirling around the other's palms.

This is no ordinary martial art.

The man in the red robe stopped a few feet away, his eyes filled with malice and resentment as he stared at Uncle Luo, his voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding iron.

"Old ghost Luo, you sure know how to dodge."

"I've been looking for you for so many years, and today I've finally found you."

Uncle Luo's expression changed, and a deep, complex look flashed in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it.

"You still came."