Volume One: The Chaos of Yan and Yun Chapter Twenty-Five: Years Since That Departure (Part Six)
As soon as Yun Wanyan stepped into Bai Jian’s guest room, she furrowed her brows. She had harbored suspicions downstairs, for the Medicine Valley had never made mistakes with their remedies, and the young girl below was none other than the current Saintess of Medicine Valley. The medicine she used surely had its own rationale.
Bai Jian was indeed gravely wounded, teetering on the brink of death, and only the sixth-level power of Withered Wood Reviving Spring could save him—a fact the Saintess had understood from the very beginning. The combination of Heavenly Star Branch and Reviving Grass, supplemented by dozens of other herbs, was merely to prolong Bai Jian’s life. To prolong it for what purpose? Naturally, to wait until she decided to act.
The Saintess of Medicine Valley had traveled thousands of miles from Jiangnan, perhaps at the urging of the Sword of Law, but her true purpose must surely lie with Yun Wanyan herself.
“Master, I’ve been away from Medicine Valley for nearly twenty years. Is this truly necessary?”
Yun Wanyan’s thoughts raced, though only a moment had passed. Even being saved by the Saintess’s life-shortening method, Bai Jian remained at death’s door. She placed her hand atop the gauze covering his chest, a subtle aura swirling about her, carrying the faint scent of medicinal herbs.
Medicine Spirit physique—not just one person possessed it.
“Though you’ve been gone twenty years, your mastery of the arts far surpasses the current elders of Medicine Valley… Perhaps only Father and Grandfather Holy Hand could compare to you. If so, Father’s esteem for you is not unfounded.”
A weary voice sounded from behind—Medicine Valley’s Saintess.
Yun Wanyan did not turn, her tone cool. “If I were mediocre, your father would hardly have taken me as a disciple.”
The Saintess laughed softly. “If not for his old friendship with the Prince, Father might have spent these years cursing the Prince most of all.”
Old ties to the Prince, hence spared the scolding. As for Feng Muyun, the younger generation, he must have borne his share of rebukes.
Thinking of her master berating Feng Muyun in Medicine Valley, Yun Wanyan suddenly found it amusing. The corners of her lips had just lifted when a gust of wind swept by, lifting the fine hair at her temples.
She frowned and looked toward the window.
A figure clad in night attire crouched there.
Before she could ask, a dazzling shower of starlight appeared.
Peak of Guiding Radiance!
Yun Wanyan was startled, but not alarmed. She herself was a master of Guiding Radiance, and even in strange circumstances, such displays would not frighten her. Moreover, she did not believe anyone could harm her in Yan Yun.
As expected, in the next instant, a wall of sand rose between her and the assassin; she didn’t even need to expend energy to set up a defense.
Wind swept again, its wailing sound filled with murderous intent.
The Sandstorm Array had been activated.
If it were only this, the assassin—whoever he was—would be trapped by layers of sand within a few breaths.
A farce.
Yun Wanyan sensed something amiss. This assassination was too brainless, even less sophisticated than the attempt on the Fourth Prince. Anyone who could reach the peak of Guiding Radiance could not possibly be a fool.
She did not understand, so her spiritual sense lingered on the mysterious figure, never letting go.
A lion uses its full strength even to hunt a rabbit—she, as the wife of the continent’s foremost general, knew this well.
The wind’s cry grew more plaintive. It seemed the battle would hold no surprises.
Even those of the Great Path could not act with impunity in Yan Yun, let alone a Guiding Radiance master.
Just then, Yun Wanyan felt a sharp pain at her waist.
Before she could comprehend what had happened, darkness closed in and she lost consciousness.
...
The moment Yun Wanyan collapsed, the three elders of the Feng family, led by the Grand Elder, and the six of the Eighteen Riders, led by Moming, arrived at the scene.
Yet Feng Muyun, who controlled the Sandstorm Array, was absent.
To their senses, he seemed like a blazing sun tightly trailing behind another blazing sun.
“The head of the family is more than twenty years younger than us, yet has already touched the threshold of the Void Path. Truly extraordinary talent,” the Grand Elder said, squinting with meaningful intent.
The Third Elder snorted coldly and said nothing.
Moming gazed at Bai Jian lying in his sickbed, as if looking at a dead man. His fingers shaped like blades, poised to deliver a fatal blow.
A cold voice sounded at the door. “Don’t let him die. Saintess, please see to him.”
Feng Qi had arrived.
He was not in good shape, his usual careless demeanor swept away, looking rather disheveled.
“He was just treated by my mother. You and she both possess the Medicine Spirit physique, both heirs of the Medicine Saint. It’s best you take over,” Feng Qi bowed slightly to the Saintess, then turned to Moming. “If you act so rashly next time, don’t count on the lead rider of the Eighteen Riders to save you.”
Before Moming could respond, Feng Qi continued, “Care makes us anxious, urgency is no excuse. What purpose does your attack serve beyond venting your anger? Even if it’s for that, it’s not your place!”
The Grand Elder waved his hand to restrain Feng Qi. “Qi’er, do not lose your temper. This is Yan Yun. The King of Yanbei will surely bring the Princess back.”
Though Feng Qi appeared calm, everyone present was astute enough to see the raging fire in his heart.
Feng Qi was silent for a moment. “My cultivation is too shallow. Please, can any of you tell me the situation?”
The Grand Elder replied, “The assailant’s cultivation is slightly higher, likely already entered the Void Path. The King has yet to catch up, but the distance is slowly closing. He should not be allowed to leave Yan Yun.”
Upon hearing this, Feng Qi said nothing more, only gazed quietly at the sky, wondering why, with things at such a critical point, his father had not pushed the Sandstorm Array to its utmost.
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