Yang Guo: I defied death and reached the heavens in The Return of the Condor Heroes

Yang Guo soaked his hair in water, spread it out, and then used his ten fingers to vigorously rub and wash it.

As his fingernails grazed his scalp, a tingling, pleasurable sensation spread from the back of his head throughout his body, and he let out a contented sigh.

I haven't bathed for ten days, and I can smell the sour, foul odor all over my body.

Just as they were enjoying their bath, several strange noises suddenly came from upstream.

It was neither the babbling of flowing water nor the chirping of birds, but the clear, crisp sound of metal clashing together, short and sharp, just like two weapons colliding at high speed.

The sound originated from the depths of the dense forest upstream of the river bend. Across the weeping willows and earthen slopes, it sounded slightly muffled, with a long, lingering resonance that echoed across the open riverbank.

Yang Guo's movements suddenly stopped, his fingertips still buried in his hair.

He listened intently, and in an instant, there was another collision, followed by a third and a fourth, as dense as raindrops hitting the banana leaf.

It was clear that there were people fighting, and there were more than two people involved.

He frowned slightly. This river was neither too far nor too close to Jiaxing City. Apart from passing cargo boats and villagers fetching water, there were few people traveling around it on ordinary days.

Who exactly came here to fight and kill?

Yang Guo shook the water off his palm and slowly walked towards the riverbank.

He didn't want to cause trouble unnecessarily, but the fighting was getting closer and closer, not dissipating into the distance, but instead closing in on him. If he remained in the water, and the fighting reached him, he wouldn't even have a chance to escape.

He hurriedly put on his trousers, draped his outer shirt over his shoulders, his hair still dripping wet, and stealthily made his way towards the source of the fighting.

There is a dense forest upstream of the river bend, filled with ancient locust trees and low shrubs.

Yang Guo crouched low and ducked into the forest, slowly making his way through the fallen leaves.

The sounds of fighting grew increasingly clear. In addition to the clanging of metal, there were shouts from the crowd, a woman's stern rebuke, and a man's hoarse roar.

A pungent, bloody stench wafted through the woods.

Yang Guo crouched behind an old locust tree, parted the branches of the bushes in front of him, and quietly peered out.

A clearing appeared in the woods, and a dead locust tree lay on its side. Several slender, cold silver needles were nailed to the trunk, their shafts gleaming with an eerie blue light in the sunlight.

Beside the withered locust tree, two girls of similar age huddled together. One wore an apricot-yellow dress, the other a light green skirt; they were about ten years old. Their faces were covered in tears and dust, making their features indistinct. The two girls clung tightly to each other, like two young sparrows drenched by a downpour.

In the open space, a man and a woman were locked in combat with a beautiful woman dressed in an apricot-yellow Taoist robe.

The man unleashed a finger technique, the move simple and unpretentious, yet the force was heavy and solid, each finger strike accompanied by the sound of wind cutting through the air.

The woman wielded a willow-leaf-shaped dagger, her movements graceful and nimble, her swordsmanship agile and varied, and her offensive and defensive coordination with the man was excellent.

However, both of them were injured and had cuts on their bodies. The man's clothes were torn in several places, and blood slowly seeped out from the wounds, staining the clothes dark red. The woman's left arm hung limply, and a long bloodstain spread across her sleeve, clearly indicating that she was also injured.

The stunningly beautiful Taoist nun opposite her wielded her whisk with ever-changing movements; the silver strands of the whisk would sometimes gather like sharp blades, and sometimes spread out like a vast net.

Her demeanor was relaxed and leisurely as she made her moves, like lightly brushing away morning dew from fallen flowers. Her face was stunningly beautiful, but her eyes were as cold as a deep winter pool, devoid of any human warmth.

"A stunningly beautiful Taoist nun, two young girls, and a couple who came to her aid—these are Li Mochou, Cheng Ying, and Lu Wushuang, along with Wu Santong and Wu Sanniang. I never imagined the story would unfold this far," Yang Guo thought to himself.

With numerous clues before him, he naturally identified the identities of the people in front of him.

In the original story, Wu Santong was a disciple of Master Yideng, and Wu Sanniang was his wife. Both of them were skilled martial artists.

Li Mochou was a disciple of the Ancient Tomb Sect who betrayed the sect, and a female demon feared by all in the martial arts world.

Years ago, she and Lu Zhanyuan fell deeply in love, and she was even expelled from her sect for it. But Lu Zhanyuan married someone else, and their love was all for naught.

Deeply wounded by heartbreak, all her love transformed into deep-seated hatred. Ten years ago, she disrupted Lu Zhanyuan's wedding, only to be stopped by several masters. Thus, she made a ten-year pact, promising to seek revenge once the deadline arrived.

However, the deadline had passed, and Lu Zhanyuan had already passed away. With no way to vent his hatred, he took out all his anger on the Lu family.

The two girls that Wu Santong and his wife were risking their lives to protect at this moment must be the sisters Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang, who were caught in the crossfire.

Yang Guo's gaze was fixed on the figures in the open space.

Previously, I had only heard of his person and his deeds in books and in teahouses, but I never expected to see him for the first time in this blood-stained wasteland.

The three players on the field engaged in a back-and-forth exchange of attacks and defenses, each move aimed directly at vital points.

Despite Wu Santong and his wife's fierce fighting, they were still at a disadvantage. Li Mochou's cultivation was superior, and she controlled the rhythm of the entire fight, firmly holding the upper hand.

Wu Santong's finger techniques were fierce and powerful, but due to prolonged fighting and injuries, the wounds in his chest aggravated his muscles and bones. Every time he exerted his strength, his heart would churn with intense pain, and the power of his finger techniques gradually diminished, losing its previous deep and fierce momentum.

With her left arm injured, Wu Sanniang struggled to maneuver while holding the knife in one hand. Her movements were no longer light and agile, and she was nearly hit by the silver threads of the whisk several times. Only Wu Santong's desperate parrying allowed her to barely avoid danger.

Li Mochou moved gracefully, a faint smile on her lips, showing no sign of anxiety. The whisk in her hand seemed to swirl like a whirlwind, and several silver threads suddenly shot out, aiming straight for Wu Sanniang's face.

Wu Santong was shocked to see this. Ignoring the excruciating pain from his own wounds, he leaped forward and quickly pointed a finger, barely managing to block the attack of the whisk.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wu, why are you resisting so stubbornly? Hand over the Lu sisters obediently, and I might spare your lives." Li Mochou's voice was gentle and melodious, but her words were full of chilling killing intent. "Back then, Lu Zhanyuan was heartless and betrayed me. Today, I have come to settle this score. Others should not cause any trouble and needlessly lose their lives."

Wu Sanniang gritted her teeth and held her sword in front of her, protecting Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang who were cowering behind her: "Li Mochou, you are narrow-minded and have taken your anger out on children. My husband and I will never allow you to harm the Lu sisters!"

Wu Santong's aura was heavy, and blood from his wounds kept soaking through his clothes, yet he still stood firmly in front of him, his gaze fierce and resolute.

Li Mochou's smile faded slightly, and the coldness in her eyes intensified: "Since you don't know what's good for you, then let's settle this once and for all."

Before she finished speaking, she suddenly darted forward, her whisk flying everywhere, her attack suddenly becoming fierce and ruthless, leaving no room for retreat. With a light flick of her right hand, three silver needles shot through the air, aiming straight for Wu Santong's face.

"Be careful, Santong!" Wu Sanniang cried out in alarm.

This attack was swift and insidious; the silver needles gleamed with a dark blue light under the sunlight, clearly coated with potent poison. Wu Santong sidestepped two of them, but the remaining one aimed straight for his vital heart.

"Third Brother!" Wu San Niang suddenly burst forth with strength from nowhere and leaped to Wu San Tong's side.

The silver needle pierced her heart from behind, with only half of the needle tip protruding. Her body trembled, as if frozen in place, before slowly collapsing to the ground inch by inch.

"Third Sister—!" Wu Santong let out a heart-wrenching wail, startling all the birds roosting in the forest, which fluttered their wings and flew away in all directions.

Yang Guo lay in wait behind the old locust tree, his fingertips gripping the rough bark, his nails digging deep into the wood.

Having lived two lives, this was the first time he had witnessed a vibrant life vanish before his very eyes. A profound sense of shock instantly overwhelmed him, and his mind jolted.

However, he was always calm and composed, and the panic he felt was only fleeting before he forcibly suppressed it. His mind was clear and orderly, and he had no reckless thoughts of stepping forward: after seven days of arduous training, he had only just entered the first level of the Reverse Life Technique, and his fist and foot techniques were still unfamiliar and ignorant. If he showed himself rashly, he would only needlessly destroy himself.

After a brief moment of shock, the initial shock of witnessing death slowly subsided, and a cold, clear-headed realization took root in his heart—this unpredictability of life and death, this constant change of fortune, was the path he had to face and endure from now on.

Wu Santong held his deceased wife's body in his arms, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Li Mochou didn't even glance at him. She lightly flicked her whisk and walked slowly towards the two girls huddled under the withered locust tree. Her steps were gentle and light, as if she were strolling leisurely in a garden.

"If you two little girls behave and come with me, you'll suffer less."

Cheng Ying suddenly stood up, shielding Lu Wushuang behind her, her hand tightly gripping a short blade.

Her fingertips trembled, and the blade shook, but she pressed her lips tightly together, refusing to back down an inch: "You slaughtered my entire Lu family, today I will fight you to the death!"

Li Mochou tilted her head slightly, a faint smile appearing on her lips, as if she had heard something ridiculous.

With a flick of her whisk, thousands of silver threads wrapped around Cheng Ying's wrist. With a slight pull, Cheng Ying was sent flying through the air before crashing heavily into a pile of fallen leaves, her short blade slipping from her hand and rolling to the side.

Lu Wushuang exclaimed in surprise and rushed forward to help her companion, but Li Mochou grabbed her shoulder firmly.

Just then, two clear, melodious eagle cries suddenly rang out from the sky, piercing the air and shaking the forest.

Two enormous black shadows swooped down from the sky, sweeping across the treetops with a fierce gust of wind. They were a pair of white eagles, male and female, with wingspans of over ten feet, sharp, hooked iron beaks, and razor-sharp, cold claws, pouncing straight at Li Mochou's face.

Li Mochou swiftly flicked her horsetail whisk, the silver threads brushing against the wingtip of one of the female eagles, shaving off several white feathers. But the sharp claws of the other male eagle were already aimed at her head, the situation was critical.

She had no choice but to loosen her grip on Lu Wushuang's hand, withdraw her attack, and retreat quickly. She spun her whisk in an arc above her head before finally forcing the two eagles back.

Three children then ran into the woods.

A young girl, about eight or nine years old, with a beautiful face, dressed in a scarlet dress, ran up quickly, panting and with fine sweat on her forehead.

Two boys of similar age followed closely behind him, their eyebrows somewhat similar, their faces showing anxiety and tension.

"Father! Mother!"

The two men's eyes swept across the woods and they spotted Wu Santong and his wife under the withered locust tree. They exclaimed in surprise and rushed over.

Behind the locust tree, Yang Guo stepped out slightly, gazing silently at the scene before him. The newcomers were Guo Fu and the Wu brothers, along with the pair of white eagles from Peach Blossom Island.

The original plot remained unchanged—Guo Jing and Huang Rong must be nearby, and the children must have rushed over after hearing the fighting noises in the forest. He had just been wondering why the Wu brothers were nowhere to be seen after witnessing the tragic fate of Wu Santong and his wife, but now it all became clear.

Da Wu rushed to his mother's side, reaching out to help her, but the moment his fingertips touched her shoulder, a chill ran through him. Wu San Niang's body was already cold and stiff, as hard as a stone pulled from a deep well, devoid of any trace of life.

"Mother..." Da Wu's voice trembled, almost incoherent.

Wu San Niang's face still held the expression of her last moment, her lips slightly parted as if she had something left unsaid, her eyes half-open, her pupils unfocused and empty, gazing blankly at the horizon.

Xiao Wu trembled as he reached out to check her breath. His fingertip lingered for three breaths before he abruptly withdrew it, as if burned.

"mother--!"

The two brothers knelt down and wept bitterly before their deceased mother.

Da Wu put his arm around his mother's shoulder, trying to lift her up gently, but his hands trembled so badly that he failed twice.

Xiao Wu knelt frozen on the ground, large tears streaming down his face. His lips trembled uncontrollably, and he choked with sobs, unable to speak. Only tears flowed endlessly.

Yang Guo gazed silently at the scene before him, his heart heavy with sorrow. In his previous life, he had read countless books and tales, always regarding the Wu brothers as mere appendages to Guo Fu, supporting characters to him throughout his life, insignificant passersby.

But now, seeing with my own eyes two young children lying beside their still-warm mother, crying like two homeless cubs, all the prejudices and labels I had held in my heart shattered.

Storytelling and literature are ultimately illusions; only life and death in the human world are real.

When disaster strikes and life and death are imminent, all beings are equal, with no distinction between supporting and leading roles.

Wu Santong stared blankly at his wife in his arms, his gaze fixed on her face, unwavering for a moment.

Her complexion had turned from bluish to ashen, and the black poison that had seeped from her lips had solidified into a dark red scab.

He raised his hand to wipe away the remaining blood from the corner of his lips, but as soon as his fingertips touched the slightly cool skin, he felt a chilling coldness, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"Third Sister?" he called softly, but there was no response.

"Third Sister..." she called again, her voice softer and gentler, as if afraid of disturbing the person in her arms, but there was still no reply.

In an instant, Wu Santong's shoulders trembled slightly, and a chill and grief slowly spread from his shoulders throughout his body. In a short while, his whole body was shaking like a leaf.

His lips moved incessantly, and he murmured incoherently, the words fragmented and indistinct, so that no one could hear him clearly, only a bone-chilling sorrow lingering in the woods.

Li Mochou was tightly entangled by a pair of white eagles, leaving her no time to break free.

These two birds, male and female, had been trained for a long time, and their offense and defense were perfectly coordinated. They moved swiftly from left to right, their iron beaks sharp and cunning, their claws fierce and piercing, each move aimed at the vital points, sealing off all her escape routes.

Although Li Mochou was highly skilled, the Twin Eagles were swift and coordinated, and for a time she was bound hand and foot, unable to advance or retreat.

"You beast—you're asking for death!"

A cold shout pierced the forest as Li Mochou suddenly swung her horsetail whisk horizontally, causing thousands of silver threads to swirl into a tide, and the fierce wind instantly forced the white eagle on the left to retreat.

Before the old force had dissipated, she suddenly raised her left hand and unleashed three icy silver needles, each carrying a chilling glint, which shot through the air in a triangular formation, aiming directly at a major acupoint on the chest and abdomen of another white eagle.

The white eagle, possessing extraordinary intelligence, swiftly twisted its body in mid-air, somersaulting and dodging with agility, avoiding the two poisoned needles. The last needle grazed the tip of its wing, and a sharp gust of wind swept away a clump of snow-white feathers, which flew everywhere.

Startled by the needle's force, the two eagles flew backwards for over ten feet, their attack momentarily halted.

Taking advantage of this brief opening, Li Mochou suddenly spun around, her left hand moving with lightning speed, grabbing directly at Lu Wushuang's shoulder.

At that very moment, Wu Santong suddenly let out a shrill roar, which sounded like a non-human voice.

He set aside his deceased wife's body and pounced on Li Mochou like a madman, making no attempt to dodge. He lashed out at her chest with his whisk, tearing flesh and blood, but he was oblivious. His palms, accompanied by the sound of wind whistling through the air, struck Li Mochou directly on the back of the head.

Li Mochou had no choice but to turn around and block, her horsetail whisk binding his wrist, and she used the momentum to pull him. Wu Santong was thrown into the air and slammed hard into an old locust tree in the forest.

With a sharp crack, the tree trunk snapped in two and collapsed to the ground.

Wu Santong struggled to his feet from the broken wood and splinters, making muffled groans, his eyes now strange. The grief and anger had faded from his bloodshot eyes, leaving only a chaotic, empty madness.

He didn't look back at his deceased wife lying on the ground, nor did he glance at his two kneeling, weeping sons. He just stared blankly ahead, repeatedly murmuring two words:

"Yuan-jun... Yuan-jun..."

With that, he abruptly turned and plunged into the deep, dense forest. The bushes along the way crackled and popped as he kicked them, and his footsteps faded into the distance, becoming chaotic and eventually disappearing at the edge of the woods.

"Father!" Da Wu got up and tried to chase after him, but Wu Santong ran like a wounded beast and disappeared in an instant.

He had only taken two steps when he stopped, turned to look at his mother's body, then looked at the spot where his father had disappeared, his face filled with bewilderment and despair.

Xiao Wu seemed to have his soul ripped out, kneeling stiffly and motionless, even his crying had stopped, only his shoulders trembled slightly.

Yang Guo, hidden in the shadows, sighed inwardly.

Wu Santong had gone mad. His wife sacrificed herself to shield him from poison and died. In his madness, he couldn't stop thinking about the name of another woman.

The myriad obsessions and desires of the mortal world are truly harmful.

Just then, a long howl echoed from afar.