ragginovel Chapter 13: Blood Blade, Bloodshed!
Chapter 13: Blood Blade, Bloodshed!
Ma Kongyun, the "Second Master" of Wanmatang, died. His head was chopped off by a swordsman at Manchunlou, the most prosperous restaurant in the border town.
This alarming news was even more somber than the small flag of the Divine Blade Hall.
The composure on Ma Kongqun's face finally vanished, replaced by shock, anger, and disbelief in his eyes.
He found it hard to believe that anyone in the border town would dare to kill his own brother!
But in reality, not only has this happened, but the other party is also a swordsman.
Swordsman!
Another swordsman!
"Is it Bai Tianyu?"
Ma Kongqun practically spat out the name through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing like lightning as he stared intently at the messenger.
"Is it him? Is it that black knife?"
The soldier collapsed to the ground, shaking his head repeatedly, his face still showing fear.
"No...no! Master, it wasn't Bai Tianyu! Many people saw it...that swordsman used a blood-red sword! The hilt was blood-red, and the scabbard...it seemed to be blood-red too, curved...like...like a hook, like a crescent moon...just like the curved sword used by the Fourth Boss, but much thinner. He could even drink as usual after killing someone, sitting there steadily, as if he had killed..."
He simply couldn't continue speaking.
He simply couldn't find a more suitable word to describe the swordsman's expression when he killed the second master.
Even if you were to kill a pig or a dog, you would never be as indifferent as that swordsman!
However, everyone in the hall was greatly alarmed by his words.
A blood-red scimitar?!
It wasn't Bai Tianyu's signature black sword.
But it's another knife!
When did such a jinx emerge in this border town?
Not only does he use a knife like Bai Tianyu, but he also dares to directly kill the Second Master of Wanmatang?
The people in the hall looked at each other, filled with surprise and doubt.
It should be noted that even Bai Tianyu, who is known as the invincible master of the Divine Blade, only intended to subdue Wanmatang, and would never engage in a head-on confrontation that would result in mutual destruction.
"A blood-stained blade?"
Gongsun Duan's thick eyebrows shot up, and the veins on his hand, which gripped the oddly shaped curved sword, bulged.
"Who cares what color the knife is! I'll chop him into eight pieces to avenge Second Master!"
He was hot-tempered and immediately turned to leave.
"Fourth Brother, wait!"
The one speaking was Hua Mantian.
He frowned, and said, word by word:
"Something's fishy!"
"This man dared to kill my Second Master of Wanmatang in the street. He's either crazy or he has something to rely on and is deliberately provoking me."
His gaze shifted to Ma Kongqun:
"Master, this person's background and motives are unclear. Should we investigate further before taking any action?"
Yun Zaitian remained motionless, yet spoke softly at that moment, his voice as fleeting as smoke:
"We all know Second Master's martial arts skills. Although they are not comparable to the top masters in the martial arts world, they are not ordinary people either."
"But this person not only killed the Second Master, but also decapitated him with a single, clean stroke. He was definitely not an ordinary expert. Moreover, there were many people coming and going on the streets of Manchunlou. After killing him, he did not immediately flee. Either he was extremely arrogant, or... he was waiting for someone to come to him."
"And this person, now, is clearly just us."
He was known as "Flying Crane in the Smoke," his lightness skill as meticulous as his mind.
Old Master Liu, known as the "Mountain-Opening Palm," was the oldest and most knowledgeable. His aged voice almost immediately followed Yun Zaitian's words:
"A blood-red scimitar... that's the shape of the sword from the Demonic Sect beyond the Great Wall."
"But why would members of the Demonic Cult come to the border town?"
"The last time I heard about the Demonic Sect beyond the Great Wall was more than ten years ago. At that time, the Western Regions were under the rule of the Happy King, and the Demonic Sect beyond the Great Wall had always been suppressed by the Happy King, so very few people in the Central Plains knew about it."
Upon hearing this, Ding Baiyun's long eyelashes suddenly fluttered, as if the words "Demon Sect" had caught her attention.
Then, for the first time, her gaze swept across the entire room, passing over everyone, but finally landing on the middle-aged man opposite her who was still drinking alone, seemingly oblivious to the bloody news.
She noticed that the other person's hand holding the wine glass paused slightly in mid-air for a moment.
A strange look seemed to flash across that handsome face, which was shrouded in the effects of alcohol and haggardness, as if it were a mixture of surprise and understanding.
What is he surprised about?
Was it unexpected that the other party shouldn't have been here?
What did he understand?
It was because he knew the opponent's strength, and he knew that the opponent could have killed Ma Kongyun with a single strike.
A hint of doubt quietly arose in Ding Baiyun's heart.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Manchunlou.
The most famous den of iniquity in the border town, a place where music and revelry never cease.
The building is three stories high with flying eaves and brackets. Even during the day, it is brightly lit, and the sounds of string and wind instruments, along with the laughter of women and the aroma of wine and meat, can be heard far and wide.
The interior furnishings were extremely luxurious.
Persian carpets were laid out, Jiangnan silk curtains swayed, and pearl curtains from the South China Sea hung. Those who came and went were either wealthy guests or beautiful concubines.
On the far east side of the third floor, the "Loulan" private room facing the street has the best location, with a wide view that can take in half of the bustling street, yet it is separated into its own private world by exquisite bamboo and beaded curtains.
Inside the private room, the air was filled with the fragrance of incense, and the room was warm and cozy.
On a round rosewood table were fresh fruits, delicate side dishes, and a pot of aged Shaoxing wine.
Xue Bufeng leaned back on the wide couch covered with snow-white fox fur, his posture languid, his collar slightly open, revealing his well-defined chest muscles.
Yuanyuan and Bingbing nestled in his arms, one on each side.
One woman peeled grapes with her slender fingers and carefully fed them to his lips, while the other gently massaged his shoulders.
The two women had slightly disheveled hair, and their eyes, still sparkling with springtime charm, made them appear even more alluring.
The Thousand-Handed Rakshasa sat on the embroidered stool opposite them.
Today she wore a crimson dress, still form-fitting, outlining her exquisitely beautiful curves. Her dark, cloud-like hair was loosely tied into a bun, with a red-gold and kingfisher-feather phoenix hairpin swaying gently with her breath.
Her stunningly beautiful face, capable of taking any man's breath away, had lost the cold, menacing aura she once possessed when she roamed the martial world, and gained a more complex and enigmatic quality.
She pursed her lips and stared expressionlessly at the three people on the opposite couch, who were deeply in love, especially Xue Bufeng, who looked so content.
Since that day, she has continued to pay progress payments daily as agreed.
But even she herself didn't realize, or rather, refused to admit, that her pure disgust was quietly changing.
She still loathed men, loathed their greed, arrogance, and filth.
But this man in front of me, named Xue Bufu…
He is different.
His power and domineering nature left her powerless to resist; his coldness and evil chilled her to the bone; yet, he was also like a blazing, dangerous flame, radiating a deadly attraction.
She watched Xue Bufeng's decisiveness, his nonchalant attitude, and even his flirting with the woman in his arms... and a pang of jealousy would rise in her heart.
How could I be jealous?
She would actually be jealous of a man?
This sudden realization frustrated her, yet she felt powerless to break free.
It is obvious that Xue Bufu is not a woman.
But Xue Bufeng seemed to possess a magical power that made it difficult for this woman, who used to only love women, to take her eyes off him.
On the Persian carpet not far from their feet, a dark red stain had dried.
A head, its eyes wide open and its expression frozen in terror, lay there tilted to one side.
Beside it was a headless body dressed in a magnificent brocade robe.
The blood had long since been drained.
Neither Xue Bufeng, nor the woman in his arms, nor the Thousand-Handed Rakshasa glanced at the corpse again.
After all, he was just a spoiled brat who caused trouble while drunk and tried to lay a hand on his woman. In Xue Bufeng's eyes, he was no different from an ant on the roadside.
If you kill someone, you kill them; their name isn't even worth remembering.
Just as Yuanyuan was about to offer another peeled grape to Xue Bufu's lips—
Downstairs at Manchunlou, the previously boisterous and seemingly endless noise suddenly ceased without warning.