Wandering Swordsman |

As all the poisoned martial artists gradually entered a meditative state, the man in white nodded slightly, then drew a bamboo flute from his waist. The flute was entirely emerald green, with a smooth and delicate surface, clearly having been meticulously crafted. He gently blew away the dust from the flute holes, then raised the flute to his lips and took a deep breath.

As the white-robed man's bamboo flute began to play, the melody, brimming with inner strength, flowed gently into everyone's hearts like a warm, clear spring. All those meditating felt their inner energy being stirred by the music, completely beyond their control, yet they felt exceptionally comfortable. They seemed to be in a wondrous world, each note like a gentle massage of their meridians, slowly expelling toxins from their bodies.

Just as everyone was immersed in that wonderful and comfortable experience, suddenly, the volume rose to its highest level, surging like a flash flood. In that instant, all the meditating martial artists simultaneously spat out a mouthful of black blood, the blood appearing particularly glaring in the sunlight. At the same time, the melodious bamboo flute music abruptly stopped, and the white-robed man slowly put down the bamboo flute in his hand.

Those ordinary people who didn't know martial arts were startled and rushed forward to check on the situation. However, the martial arts practitioners who had been meditating quickly stood up and wiped the blood from their mouths. Their eyes were filled with gratitude and admiration, and their bodies gradually regained their mobility.

The elders of the various sects were shocked to find that the poison had been expelled and they had regained their mobility. This was because even the Tang Sect had not been able to develop an effective antidote for the Heart-Corroding Poison, yet it had been easily neutralized by a sonic technique.

In an instant, the atmosphere in the entire square shifted from initial tension and unease to deep gratitude. Elders and disciples from prestigious sects all ascended the training platform, bowed respectfully, and thanked the man in white: "Thank you for your help, young hero!"

One of the elders from the Tang Clan stepped forward and respectfully said, "Young hero, your sonic skills not only saved us poisoned people, but also allowed us to witness the wonders of the Ghost Valley martial arts. May I ask your name, young hero? The Tang Clan will surely repay your kindness in the future."

Faced with these respected elders who held a prominent position in the martial arts world surrounding him, the man in white remained neither humble nor arrogant, offering a slight smile. He calmly picked up his bamboo flute and said loudly, "Seniors, please be quiet for a moment. Right now, we need to help those who don't know martial arts to detoxify."

As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the entire square fell silent. The martial arts practitioners all stopped talking and focused their attention on the man in white, their hearts filled with anticipation and admiration.

The man in white took a deep breath and raised the bamboo flute to his lips again. As the first note floated from the flute, a melodious and powerful tune began once more. This time, the melody was gentler, like a spring breeze, bringing immense comfort.

Those martial artists who had recovered listened quietly to the beautiful music, feeling the gentle flow of qi and blood within their bodies. Those who did not know martial arts and were still in a state of poisoning felt a warm power surging within them, as if something was about to burst out of their bodies.

As time passed, those who didn't know martial arts also began to cough up black blood. However, unlike the martial artists, they didn't immediately regain their mobility after coughing up the blood; instead, they collapsed to the ground, appearing weak and powerless. After all, the physical condition of those who didn't know martial arts was far inferior to that of martial arts masters who had cultivated internal energy for many years.

Upon seeing this, Situ Dengfeng immediately ordered the Jingtian Pavilion disciples who had regained their mobility to carry those who had collapsed to the rest area for care. The disciples quickly sprang into action, carefully carrying the people away from the plaza and transporting them to a safe place.

After completing these arrangements, Situ Dengfeng walked to the white-robed man's side, his gratitude evident: "Young hero, thank you and Young Hero Jian for your help. Please tell us your names. The entire Jingtian Pavilion will never forget your kindness."

Seeing this, the man in white waved his hand and said gently, "Senior Situ, this little matter is really not worth mentioning. Brother Jian and I belong to Ghost Valley, and it is our duty to uphold justice." Although his words were gentle, they exuded an undeniable power, as if they could soothe people's hearts.

Upon hearing this, Situ Dengfeng nodded slightly, a hint of gratitude flashing in his eyes. He slowly said, "Since young hero is unwilling to reveal more, then this old man will not press you. However, I am truly filled with remorse for what happened today."

After speaking, Situ Dengfeng's voice was slightly low, but still firm and powerful: "The martial arts competition to select a husband for my daughter has caused you all such a fright. I hope you will forgive me. In view of the accident that happened today, the martial arts competition of Jingtian Pavilion will be adjourned. Jingtian Pavilion will arrange food and lodging tonight, and will send someone to escort you down the mountain early tomorrow morning. I hope you will all return to your respective sects safely."

As soon as the words were spoken, the entire square fell silent; no one raised an objection. However, after a moment, someone in the crowd suddenly shouted in protest: "Just who is Li Fanglin? How dare he subject us to such humiliation! If we don't avenge this, we'll be unworthy of being called heroes of the martial world!"

The sound was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples. The crowd echoed, demanding that Jingtian Pavilion quickly ascertain Li Fanglin's true identity and provide an explanation.

Faced with the crowd's outrage, Situ Dengfeng took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across each face before finally settling on the speaker. His eyes held both apology and determination: "I fully understand your feelings. Rest assured, Jingtian Pavilion will do everything in its power to investigate this matter thoroughly. As for Li Fanglin and the forces behind him, we will not let them off easily!"

Just as Situ Dengfeng finished speaking and the atmosphere eased slightly, a burly middle-aged man suddenly stepped forward. His eyes were sharp, and his voice booming as he asked, "Great Hero Situ, it seems Li Fanglin has come to seize the *Wuxiang Jing*. If that's the case, is the *Wuxiang Jing* truly in your possession?" These words immediately drew everyone's attention, and all eyes turned to Situ Dengfeng, awaiting his reply.

Before long, whispers arose from the audience, followed by a commotion. Someone shouted, "Master Situ, everyone in the martial arts world knows that the *Wu Xiang Jing* is the supreme martial arts manual, originally written by the Fist Saint 'Yu Tiancheng' a hundred years ago. How did it end up in Master Situ's possession?"

Another person continued, "It turns out that Master Situ possesses such a martial arts manual. I wonder if he could broaden the horizons of all fellow martial artists?"

Such discussions rose and fell, and the entire square suddenly became noisy. Everyone was filled with curiosity and longing for the "Formless Sutra," and some people could not contain their excitement and were eager to try it out.