Volume One: The Turmoil of Yan and Yun Chapter Fifty-Four: Murder on a Rainy Night (Part One)
The battle had ended, yet the night rain still poured in torrents, the stars and moon hidden away, shrouded in a murderous gloom. Sparse beams of white light pierced through the clouds and the veil of rain, falling upon Feng Qi, whose bare upper body gleamed with the luster of forged steel.
Before long, Dugu Zhe arrived at Feng Qi’s side. He examined Feng Qi’s condition carefully, noting his exposed torso and the scattered garments around him, then glanced at the assassins lying dead nearby, raising his brows in surprise.
With his level of cultivation, he could easily see that these assassins were no ordinary opponents. That Feng Qi could battle and vanquish them all was a testament to his reputation as the foremost prodigy of his generation.
Even so, when he sat down beside Feng Qi, his words were, “The Overlord Spear truly lives up to its name. But against these few, was it really necessary to fight with your back to the river?”
Detecting the competitive edge in Dugu Zhe’s tone, Feng Qi smiled inwardly. Youth is ever spirited—how could the young not crave victory? As Crown Prince, Dugu Zhe surely cared about such things. Otherwise, with so many princes older than he, how could he have prevailed?
“One of the assassins had mastered the Heart-Illuminated Realm and walked the path of infinite blade intent. He was troublesome. Had I held back, I would likely have been wounded,” Feng Qi replied softly. “Ji Province is our first battle heading south. If I am injured here, how will we ever reach Wuyang?”
Dugu Zhe said, “If you overdraw yourself, we won’t reach Wuyang either.”
Feng Qi only smiled and let the matter drop, changing the subject. “The Sovereign’s Swordsmanship is indeed peerless, but I sense that Your Highness’s version differs greatly from what’s described in the texts—there’s much more vitality in it.”
Dugu Zhe laughed quietly. “Do you think that vitality is a good thing or not?”
Feng Qi considered this, then replied earnestly, “With most techniques, such liveliness isn’t necessarily a bad thing, though it doesn’t always lead to mistakes.”
Dugu Zhe paused, then asked, “Do you think the Sovereign’s Swordsmanship is flawed?”
Feng Qi answered, “Sovereign’s Swordsmanship—the world is foremost.”
How could the world itself be lively?
Doctrine and disposition—an enlightened ruler, an emperor for the ages, may be steady, ruthless, or even playful at times. But in the face of life and death, such liveliness is forbidden. For he is not just himself.
A landscape as grand as a painting, with mountains upon mountains—the weight of such a burden admits no frivolity.
Dugu Zhe pondered this seriously and finally sighed. “You are right. Sovereign’s Swordsmanship has been passed down for a hundred generations. I should not underestimate my ancestors.”
Now it was Feng Qi who was taken aback.
The old emperor, according to the histories, was a man of quiet authority and calm reserve. But Feng Qi had read much, including many accounts of the old emperor, and knew the truth beneath the official records.
He was not a steady man.
He was passionate, proud, and sometimes quite frivolous. The Prodigy List itself had been established by the Pavilion of Freedom in his honor.
Flamboyant in every sense of the word.
His brilliance rivaled that of Wei Sanmu, and his affairs... led him to Empress Xuande.
It was for this reason that Feng Qi suspected the changes to the Sovereign’s Swordsmanship might have come from the old emperor himself, and he had once felt a small measure of disrespect. But on reflection, it was impossible to believe Dugu Feiyun had not noticed what he himself had perceived.
“If it were you, you would surely understand. But has His Majesty or the Crown Prince’s three masters ever pointed this out to you?” Feng Qi asked in confusion.
But no answer was given.
Dugu Zhe remained silent.
Everything seemed as it was, and yet everything had changed.
A faint, almost imperceptible, murderous intent locked onto the two of them.
The Bloodweeper Pavilion claimed to prove the Way through killing—even in haste, their arrangements would not be so feeble.
Feng Qi glanced at Dugu Zhe and chuckled softly, “The cultivation isn’t high.”
Dugu Zhe looked back at him and replied, “But the strength isn’t weak.”
Feng Qi’s voice grew lower. “We can’t break free. If we act, one of us will likely die here.”
Dugu Zhe said, “Perhaps not.”
Feng Qi countered, “A narrow path, then?”
Dugu Zhe smiled; suddenly, behind him, the phantom of a great dragon appeared, roaring as it tore through the rain and wrapped Dugu Zhe in its protection.
At the same moment, yellow waves of energy ignited from Feng Qi’s torso, covering him in a golden aura, even his black hair now dusted with gold.
Had anyone witnessed the sparring between the old emperor and the first King of Yanbei, they would have cried out in astonishment.
Sovereign’s Swordsmanship: Royal Authority Descends.
Overlord Spear: Invincible, Selfless.
Two black blades streaked like lightning through the night, striking the dragon’s image and the golden aura with a screech of friction and a spray of sparks.
It looked perilous, but in truth, it was futile.
Those blades, and the intent bound to them, could not pierce the defenses of Feng Qi or Dugu Zhe.
Feng Qi raised his brows, wondering if this assassin was foolish or simply too confident. He had waited, refraining from joining the earlier attack, likely hoping for a decisive strike. With his skill, had he staked his life, he might have been able to take one down with him.
But to kill them both at once... Was he overestimating the Bloodweeper Pavilion?
Just then, a peal of thunder roared in Feng Qi’s ear, and the world suddenly flashed bright.
“Your Highness, Young Lord—retreat at once!”
Was that Murong Chengzhang’s voice?
Feng Qi was momentarily stunned, then he understood.
The assassin of the Radiance-Reaching Realm had ignored Murong Chengzhang’s obstruction and struck directly at them.
The other assassin had attacked simultaneously, precisely to draw their focus!
A Radiance-Reaching assassin laying down his life... Had the Bloodweeper Pavilion regained the strength to treat such a powerhouse as a mere sacrificial pawn?
A single misstep leads to disaster. At this moment, relying on Murong Chengzhang for rescue was impossible, yet Feng Qi himself saw no means of surviving the coming blade.
The combined brilliance of sun, moon, and stars—how could human strength contend with that?
Many thoughts flashed through his mind in that instant.
He heard a dragon’s roar.
The golden dragon around Dugu Zhe suddenly surged in size, sovereign dragon energy gathering from all directions. The inn trembled, tiles on the roof cracked into spiderweb patterns, and the red paint on the walls began to peel.
The sword light drew near—then vanished.
Feng Qi stared, incredulous. “The Royal Authority Sword?”
Dugu Zhe met his gaze. “This was the trump card my father left me. I did not expect to use it so soon.”
Feng Qi replied, “Both a blessing and a curse.”
Dugu Zhe asked, puzzled, “What do you mean by that?”
Feng Qi sighed and returned the jade pendant to his storage realm.
Dugu Zhe sensed a subtle chill in the air.
It was the Sword Token of Snowcloud Sect, a talisman said to link to places a thousand miles away, allowing the strongest to cross the void. There were no more than three in all of Snowcloud.
And Feng Qi possessed one.
Clearly, they valued him greatly, for the Snowcloud Sword would not hesitate to protect him in this manner.
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