Chapter 42 It Is Over

There was the throat, and blood was flowing from there, flowing so much... Yet the expression on Dongfang Bubai's face seemed to remain unchanged, even though his chest was stained crimson, and even though blood was already dripping onto the grass...

His steps still did not stop, and his face remained gently turned toward that direction.

Blood gushed wildly from Dongfang Bubai's throat, and his injuries were extremely severe. Anyone else would have died long ago, but he dragged this doomed body and walked back into the small pavilion.

Very slowly, he still walked back.

"Lian... Lian-di, Lian... Lian-di..."

Blood soaked his garments, and he collapsed onto the soft couch, the blood staining it as well.

When Yang Lianting saw him, he raged, "Didn't you usually boast of peerless martial arts? Why can't you even deal with a single person now?!"

Dongfang Bubai said with difficulty, "I... I was careless... I... I didn't know he... his sword..."

Yang Lianting still raged, "Where did he get a sword?"

Dongfang Bubai said, "He... if he had a sword, I... I wouldn't have been careless. But if... if he truly had a sword in hand, I still would not be his match. I have already done my utmost; his martial arts... his swordsmanship are truly too formidable."

Yang Lianting shouted angrily, "Aren't you the number one in the world? Aren't your martial arts the highest? Why, why are you not his match? You deceived me, you deceived me!"

Dongfang Bubai smiled faintly, with that same 'gentleness', a gentleness devoid of a trace of pain. He turned his head and said, "I... am about to die. I beg you for one thing..."

His voice was very slow, and increasingly difficult. To still be alive, to still be able to speak, he was already a miracle.

Ren Yi's face was expressionless as he said calmly, "I will spare him."

Dongfang Bubai smiled and said, "Tha—"

That final word of 'thanks' was never uttered. He closed his eyes, and he was dead.

Ren Yi looked at the corpse for a long moment, then turned toward Yang Lianting...

"You said it, you promised him, you said you would spare me."

"I've gone back on my word!"

Under Yang Lianting's terrified gaze, a blossom of blood burst forth from the center of his brow.

Another person was dead, yet Ren Yi would not spare such a person a second glance.

He remembered that inside Dongfang Bubai's garments there was still the Sunflower Manual, but Ren Yi did not go to take it, nor did he intend to destroy it. Leaving it behind might prove to be an interesting thing.

He walked over to the dressing table, where a plant was being cultivated beside the bronze mirror.

The fire of the snow mountain was precisely what Ren Yi was looking for.

***

A fierce gale blew from the precipice, and clouds and mist rushed toward his face with the wind.

From the stone gate to the Chengde Hall, and departing from the Chengde Hall to arrive at this cliff edge, the Sun Moon Divine Cult—which had once dared to resist the so-called orthodox sects—had been utterly destroyed overnight.

Ren Yi was in a very good mood, and his footsteps began to feel somewhat light and buoyant. He still looked swaggering and arrogant, lacking only the sound of drums and flutes.

The events at Blackwood Cliff would not be concealed from anyone, because it was simply impossible to conceal them from anyone. From the moment Ren Yi ascended Blackwood Cliff to the moment he descended, countless tidings began to spread throughout the pugilistic world.

Walking down the cliffside, he cast his gaze upon a winding path among the river flats, where a Daoist priest was waiting. It seemed the priest had been waiting there for a very long time indeed.

"A year has not passed since we last met."

The Daoist spoke, his voice gentle.

Ren Yi said, "That's right. In this past year, it is only during this period that I have come out to see the world."

The Daoist said, "In my childhood, I once asked you: when a person is good or bad, how should one tell them apart?"

Ren Yi smiled and said, "Back then I also answered you: a person's good or bad cannot be told apart."

The Daoist sighed and said, "Indeed. Your answer at the time startled me greatly. I also asked you: if you wanted to distinguish good people from bad people, what method would you use?"

Ren Yi said, "I told you, I would not try to distinguish them."

The Daoist sighed again and said, "Back then I only thought you were young and ignorant, so I taught you that you should guard your original heart."

Ren Yi smiled once more and said, "That's right, I accomplished it."

The Daoist gazed deeply at him for a long while... then slowly shook his head and said, "Yet I never imagined you would become like this."

Ren Yi said, "This is quite good."

The Daoist suddenly asked, "Being like this, can you be happy?"

Ren Yi nodded: "My mood is not bad."

The Daoist said, "You still wish to live on like this..."

Ren Yi cut him off, saying, "Provided no one comes to provoke me."

The Daoist stared and said, "In this world today, who would still dare to provoke you?"

Ren Yi smiled and said, "Isn't this very good, then? But I still have to go kill someone."

The Daoist asked sharply, "Who else are you going to kill?"

Ren Yi said indifferently, "Mount Hua, Yue Buqun!"

The Daoist stared at him again and asked, "After killing him, will you be a little happier?"

Ren Yi shook his head and said, "No. But if I don't kill him, my mood will not be very good."

The Daoist said, "So he deserves to die."

Ren Yi nodded: "Correct!"

The Daoist said no more. He turned around and walked away... Not only walking, but jogging, then running, until in the end he was practically flying away. Perhaps he truly did not wish to face this person any longer.

Ren Yi chuckled softly, "I'm afraid I won't be able to see you old man ever again."

***

October twenty-fifth, deep in the night, the moonlight was like a mirror.

The moonlight shone in through the window, casting its light upon the emerald gauze bed-curtain before the bed. In the moonlight, the emerald gauze curtain looked like clouds and mists, and within the mists there seemed to be the shadow of a person.

Last night had been filled with piercing winds and bitter rain; tonight there was no wind and no rain, and the moonlight was bright and clear.

For some time now, Yue Buqun had spent every day practicing Qi, practicing the sword, practicing martial arts, and cultivating the Evil-Warding Sword Manual. Right now, the entire pugilistic world was trembling with fear; almost every martial artist was living through each day in trepidation.

Especially him—his days were lived with far more terror than anyone else's. He had reached the point where he could scarcely sleep at night and found no peace in his meals; only when practicing the Evil-Warding Sword Manual could he find a measure of calm.

People in the martial world today were all afraid, afraid of that person—afraid precisely that that person would suddenly come and kill them.

Yue Buqun was naturally afraid as well. He had no reason not to be afraid of that man, and he was even more terrified than anyone else.

There was only a single lamp in the room. Its dim light illuminated his face—a face that had become much cleaner... Then he opened those glowing eyes of his, which, despite a hint of terror, unmistakably held an unmaskable excitement.

Yue Buqun stepped down from the couch. On the table inside the room lay his treasured sword. Suddenly, a cold wind swept past, and he instantly drew his blade. The sword light was as brilliant and dazzling as sunlight, yet as beautiful as the moonlight reflecting off the toad on the moon.

The sword Qi was unleashed in that very instant. As the sword light flashed, the beaded curtains a zhang away snapped and fell in pieces. Accompanied by a rustling sound, the room returned to silence.

The sword was still in his hand, but the look of excitement in his eyes seemed to have vanished, replaced by an even deeper terror.

"Your martial arts have improved quite a bit."

He turned around, swung his sword, and thrust.

Turning back, he saw sword light... exquisitely beautiful sword light, peerless swordsmanship, a merciless sword!

Even though Yue Buqun was terrified to the extreme, he still executed his sword with all his might, striking out with full force. A single sword strike met the oncoming sword light!

The two swords touched, a flash of sword light gleamed, and Yue Buqun collapsed. Yet inside the room, that sword was no longer to be seen, nor was the person who had wielded it; it was as if that sword strike had never happened, as if that person had never existed at all!

Where had the person gone?