I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

Yuemen Inn.

The dim, flickering light inside illuminated the weathered and weary faces of Longxiu and Fengwu.

The dappled light and shadow seem to tell a story of endless vicissitudes.

Long'er carried a basin of steaming hot water for washing her parents' feet and slowly stepped into the room, gently placing it at their feet.

The movements were gentle—yet they conveyed a subtle sense of detachment.

"Father, Mother—"

"You have suffered."

"Go wash up and rest early."

Long'er's voice was as calm as a stagnant pool, without the slightest ripple.

There was not a trace of joy or excitement after a long separation.

His eyes were deep and cold, as if in these short days—

He had seen through the illusions of this mortal world, and his heart was as still as water.

Long Xiu gazed at her beloved son before her.

His lips parted slightly—as if a thousand words were stuck in his throat.

But in the end—

But it only turned into a heavy sigh, his eyes filled with complex and indescribable bitterness.

He wanted to ask his adopted son how he had been these past few days, and why those once gentle eyes now held only the glint of swords.

But in the end, he didn't ask anything.

Because he knew—

The silver-haired boy in front of him was no longer the child who would run into his arms and act spoiled.

Feng Wu's eyes were slightly red.

She reached out a trembling hand, wanting to touch Long'er's cheek.

But Long'er subtly dodged it by sidestepping.

The mother's hand hung in mid-air, her fingers trembling slightly, looking exceptionally forlorn.

Long'er bowed slightly, then turned and pushed open the door to leave.

The creaking sound of the wooden door opening and closing was particularly jarring in the quiet night.

His retreating figure was resolute and lonely.

It was even colder than the deep autumn night, showing no trace of lingering affection.

Outside the inn—

The ancient road winds its way into the endless darkness.

The cold moonlight spread across the ground like frost and snow, exuding an indescribable sense of desolation and bleakness.

Jin had already been standing there silently.

He carried a long, black cloth-wrapped object on his back, his posture upright like a pine tree—

In the darkness of the night, it resembles a sharp sword about to be drawn from its sheath.

Seeing Long'er walking slowly towards him, Jin's lips curled up slightly, revealing a faint smile—

It seemed as if they had anticipated all of this.

"Are you willing to leave?"

Long'er's expression was indifferent; she simply nodded slightly.

A pair of cool, clear eyes gazed into the unfathomable darkness in the distance—

It was as if that was his true home.

"Let's go."

The two walked side by side.

His shadow was stretched extremely long in the pale moonlight—

It eventually blended completely into the thick, impenetrable night, leaving no trace.

In Long'er's heart, there is only the supreme way of the sword.

As for the so-called kinship and gratitude—

In his eyes, they were nothing more than obstacles on the path of cultivation.

He cleaved it in two with a single swing of his sword—without mercy or a trace of lingering affection.

Inside the inn room.

The candlelight was dim and flickering.

Long Xiu and Feng Wu had finished washing up and were about to rest—

But his gaze was drawn to a letter lying quietly on the table.

The letter looked particularly glaring in the dim light, as if foreshadowing some kind of irreversible separation.

With trembling hands, Long Xiu opened the envelope.

The letter contained only a few words—

The handwriting is vigorous and powerful, exuding a coldness and decisiveness that keeps people at a distance.

There was not a single word of warm greeting in the letter.

Only one sentence—

"The way of the sword has no limits."

"Years will pass since then, let us not seek each other again."

Feng Wu looked at the handwriting on the letter—

I could no longer hold back the grief in my heart!

With a "waaaaaa," she buried her face in Longxiu's arms and burst into tears.

Tears instantly soaked his clothes, and his sobs sounded particularly desolate in the quiet night.

Long Xiu held his wife tightly, tears streaming down his face.

Under this dim light—

In an instant, he seemed to have aged ten years.

He knew in his heart—

The son who once doted on her—is dead.

Those who are alive in this world today—

He was just a swordsman named "Ryuji".

A peerless swordsman whose heart is only for the sword and nothing else.

The ancient road winds its way, offering panoramic views into the distance.

In a remote mountain village, things are bustling with activity at this moment.

A red silk ribbon trailed on the ground, and joyous music filled the air.

It should have been the most beautiful and auspicious day in the world—a wedding day.

Firecrackers crackled and burst into red, while gongs and drums resounded through the sky.

The villagers gathered outside the courtyard, their laughter and chatter creating a lively atmosphere.

It was as if all the suffering in the world had nothing to do with this place.

"They're trying to steal the bride—!"

"Help! Someone's trying to steal the bride!"

A piercing and terrified scream shattered the festive and peaceful atmosphere like a sharp blade, startling everyone present.

A wretched-looking old man was seen carrying a struggling bride on his back as he tumbled and crawled out of the bridal chamber, looking both disheveled and comical.

Although the old man looked frail, he possessed considerable skill in internal martial arts.

His movements were even faster than those of an ordinary strong man, and he moved through the festive red silk with an unusually strange speed.

"Stop! Put the bride down right now!"

"What kind of lecherous thief dares to abduct a bride in broad daylight?!"

The villagers' angry shouts echoed through the empty valley.

They brandished hoes and sticks, raising clouds of dust as they surged forward like a tide.

But the old man's movements were surprisingly swift, like a cunning rabbit darting through the forest—

They were about to rush out of the village and disappear into the dark and deep mountain forest.

Just then—

At the end of the winding, weathered ancient road at the village entrance, four figures slowly approached, bathed in dappled sunlight.

Leading the group was a young man with a cold, rock-like face, carrying a strangely shaped sword case on his back that exuded a heavy, menacing aura.

It was none other than Huai Kong, a top disciple of the Iron Gate.

His steps were steady, each step seemingly carrying immense weight.

It seems out of place in this noisy, mundane world.

Beside him, Luo Xian stood quietly, as elegant as an orchid.

A beautiful and ethereal face appeared and disappeared in the wind, like a celestial maiden descending to earth, untouched by worldly dust.

Wu Er walked with a slanted posture, his hands hanging emptily at his sides, his brows furrowed with unrestrained arrogance.

And behind the three of them—

Furthermore, a chilling ghostly figure accompanied them.

The man's eyes were empty and lifeless, and he was surrounded by an eerie aura of death that he could not shake off, making him look like a walking corpse.

It was Huai Mie who had been poisoned by the Heavenly Gate Poison and turned into a puppet.

With each step Huai Kong took, he would look back at his elder brother.

Each time I look back, the anxiety in my heart intensifies.

The elder brother's bestial nature grew stronger every day, and his time was running out.

The lewd old man, preoccupied with his hasty escape, remained completely oblivious to the presence of someone ahead, shrouded in the red silk and dust.

It slammed hard into Huai Kong's broad, mountain-like chest.

"Ouch--!"

The old man felt as if he had crashed into a towering iron mountain.

A scream—

He flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily onto the dusty dirt road.

The bride also fell, her bright red veil fluttering sadly in the wind—

She revealed a pale, pretty face, still shaken and with tears streaming down her face.

"Thank you so much for your help, young hero!"

"Thank you very much, young hero!"

The villagers who had been chasing after them rushed over and shielded the bride behind them, bowing repeatedly to Huai Kong.

The relief of surviving the ordeal outweighed the fear that had just passed.

The crowd, surrounding the still-shaken bride, retreated into the village, cursing and swearing, fearing that the lewd old man might have another evil thought.

The noise fades away.

Huai Kong frowned slightly, looking at the lewd old man on the ground rubbing his buttocks with a gloomy expression, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes.

"Empty Embrace—"

Luo Xian walked to Huai Kong's side, lowered her voice, and spoke with a hint of amusement.

"This person—is the 'miracle doctor' we've been looking for."

The lewd old man's ear twitched slightly.

Upon hearing the words "miracle doctor," his disheveled and scrambling demeanor vanished instantly.

He slowly got up from the ground, a sly glint flashing in the depths of his murky eyes.

Even though his identity was exposed, he showed no shame on his face, but instead exuded an arrogant sense of arrogance.

He knew all too well that since the other party had come seeking medical treatment, his old life was more precious than gold.

The divine doctor brushed the dust off his clothes, glanced sideways at Huai Kong and the others, and muttered some vulgar and offensive words.

Filthy, harsh.

Wu Er was born with a fiery temper.

Seeing that the man showed no gratitude whatsoever, the veins on his forehead bulged.

He strode forward!

His large, fan-like hand had already been raised, bringing with it a sharp gust of wind:

"You old bastard—if you keep spewing nonsense—"

"Believe it or not, I'll send you to your death right now!"

Huai Kong reached out and stopped Wu Er.

With a slight exertion of force from his palm, he was forced back into his original position.

Looking at the pathetic doctor before him, even Huai Kong, who was always eager to help others, felt a strong sense of disgust.

In his usual temperament, he would have slapped this disrespectful old scoundrel away long ago!

But he forcefully suppressed the sense of justice surging in his heart, his fists clenching tighter and tighter inside his sleeves.

"Don't act impulsively..."

"I've been searching for this miracle doctor for months... My brother's poison has progressed too quickly; saving him is the priority!"

He took a deep breath, concealing the emotions surfacing in his eyes.

"Please don't be offended by the miracle doctor's skill."

He bowed slightly to the divine physician, his tone polite, yet his eyes revealed an undeniable composure:

"We have come here today because we need your help."

"My elder brother has been poisoned and is on the verge of death—I beg the divine physician for help."

The doctor snorted coldly, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.

He picked his teeth, and spoke casually, his tone filled with greed and arrogance:

"Save them?"

"I'm in a terrible mood right now."

"If you want me to take action, fine—go and find me an absolute beauty!"

"I need to find someone with a slim waist and long legs, someone who can make this old man happy to the core—otherwise, even if the King of Heaven himself came, it wouldn't make a difference."