Legend of Fu Yao

“Idiot, this is a feint. You didn’t even know that?” Meng Fuyao guffawed. Zhan Nancheng scoffed and snapped his finger.

Meng Fuyao immediately exerted more force, causing Zhan Nancheng to go weak in his knees. But the speed in which his fingers snapped was quicker than Fuyao’s actions. With a snap of a finger, fumes started filling the room as firearms were fired rapidly in Meng Fuyao’s direction. As the firearms hit the wall, one could hear them cackling away, causing loud explosions.

With the loud explosion, the soldiers outside came rushing in.

With that loud explosion, Zhan Beiye let out a yell. He kicked away the rooftop of the male toilet and flew out. That act of his resulted in a couple of soldiers dying as they got hit by the roof. When he landed, only God knew what trap he triggered as a shower of arrows welcomed him, once again killing off another group of soldiers.

Zhan Beiye hugged his mother tightly as he covered her eyes with a piece of cloth. He whispered, “Don’t care about anything else, just hold onto me.”

She leaned against her son’s broad chest and nodded while smiling.

Bam!

Zhan Beiye kicked down the toilet’s wall as he flew out in the midst of dust and smoke. Instead of escaping out of the palace, however, he single-handedly lifted up a few dead guards to cover himself as he rushed to the inner palace.

‘Fuyao, I am here to fetch you.’

Behind him, torches were being lit up as the sound of footsteps got louder. Arrows flew in his direction from both sides as gunfire loaded up.

Zhan Beiye dashed across, with a corpse falling down on the ground with every step. To him, a new corpse was equivalent to a new shield and whoever was the bravest, also died the fastest. Some soldiers rushed up and sliced the human shields into halves, creating the perfect shield was to stepping stone ratio as Zhan Beiye used half the body to block the swords and the other half to step on.

He was like a mad tiger, absolutely invincible. The traps set at Xihua palace were mostly situated on the escape route rather than near the palace for safety reasons. While there were still traps, Zhan Beiye was able to see through the traps in all of the chaos and pushed a soldier right in front of the trap. With a shriek, the soldier had been shot multiple times with holes all over him. But by then, Zhan Beiye was long gone, stepping on puddles of blood as he made his way into the inner palace.

“Stop him, the Emperor is inside!” Countless soldiers swarmed towards him, forming a human wall. Blades were pointed towards Zhan Beiye, the man who dared to trespass the palace alone.

With a bam, Zhan Beiye made his way up his very first step when it suddenly opened to reveal a pit — a trapdoor!

Zhan Beiye hollered and did a somersault, moving freely in the air like an eagle.

Behind him, people from the Zhonglian palace ordered, “Shoot!”

Pew!

The arrows resembled grey clouds as they covered the glimmer of daybreak, casting upon darkness to the earth as they headed for Zhan Beiye.

The warfare outside the palace was one that was characterized by blood and fire; the warfare inside the palace was a battle of the mind and wits.

At a glance, one could tell that the slightly yellow fumes were toxic.

Without blinking or avoiding, Meng Fuyao grabbed Zhan Nancheng, dragging him into the toxic fumes.

Zhan Nancheng eyes widened. Not in his wildest dreams would he expect this woman to be this ferocious and brave. In such circumstances, a normal human being would instinctively avoid these fumes but yet, this woman actually dragged him in to die together!

Meng Fuyao would not let him off. “To die together with the Tiansha Emperor, what an honor I, a commoner, have,” she snickered.

Suddenly, a cold snort rang beside Meng Fuyao’s ears.

With a snort, the yellow-tinted fume subsided.

Zhan Nancheng’s dead eyes suddenly brightened up. If not for Meng Fuyao’s hand around his throat, he would probably be laughing like a maniac.

Meng Fuyao tightened her grip around her sword. Through the reflection of the sword, she could vaguely see that was a lady with grey-white hair and an all-grey robe. She resembled a drifting cloud, though she was not moving, it made people had the illusion that she was constantly floating.

She “floated” on the beam lazily as she scratched her head with boredom. As she fiddled with her hair, she casually mentioned, “The Tiansha Emperor is really useless. If I were here just a step late, you would have been done in by this little girl.”

Zhan Nancheng’s face turned green as Meng Fuyao giggled. “Ay, this elder on the beam, don’t look down on the Tiansha Emperor. He might not have the ability to fight, but he is talented in other aspects like schemes, setting traps and ambushing people, murdering his own brothers, and lusting after his own mother. He ain’t too bad with them.”

Zhan Nancheng ground his teeth in anger, glaring at Meng Fuyao with resentment. Meng Fuyao glared back, with no intention to mask her hatred towards him. In a sinister way, she questioned, “Why? Want to kill me? What a coincidence, I would love to kill you too. If not for the fact that you still have a little use, I would have chopped and minced you into a million pieces, disgusting piece of sh*t.”

The more she talked, the more enraged she got. The dead faces of the eight Black Wind Horses soldiers, Zhan Beiye’s tearful face as he listened to his mother sing appeared in front of her eyes. These memories induced sharp pain in her heart. Frustrated, she lifted her hand and slapped across his face. “Damn it, seeing you makes me so aggrieved. I’ll slap you, then decide!” she muttered harshly under her breath.

The sound of the slaps resounded in the inner palace. The soldiers that rushed into to protect the Emperor witnessed this sight that drained all color off their face and made their knees go weak.

Meng Fuyao glanced at Zhan Nancheng as she laughed evilly. “Scream, scream, scream for more people to come in, come in to be a spectator of the Tiansha Emperor getting slapped by me. Come here quickly, for every new spectator, I will add another slap, no additional charges needed, no tickets needed!”

Zhan Nancheng trembled in anger — he could tell that Meng Fuyao was someone capable of carrying out her word. The honorable Tiansha Emperor being slapped left and right by a lowly commoner in public! How can he still face anyone after this?

Grudgingly, he glared at the soldiers, “Get out!”

The soldiers retreated, bewildered, with cold sweat running down their backs. On the other hand, the elder on the beam opened her mouth lazily and said, “Little girl, don’t be so arrogant. In front of me, slapping him left and right is disrespectful towards me. Just once or twice is enough.”

“This elder, I really like your words, ” Meng Fuyao smiled, “I’ll listen to you and slap him once or twice.”

She flicked her wrist and slapped his face. She innocently explained herself in front of the furious Zhan Nancheng, “The elder wanted me to slap you twice.”

The elder on the beam laughed heartily. Though she looked old, her laughter was sharp and crystal clear as she said, “You little brat, I really quite like you, what a pity…”

Suddenly, a sigh left her lips and during that sigh, her sleeves seemed to have moved.

The sleeves moved again. Meng Fuyao faced the Jade Light as well as a ghostly white ray of light head on. She paused for a second as she tried to pull back. Unfortunately, the ray of light headed straight for her unperturbed.

First strike! Second strike! Third strike!

Three strikes. A split second later, a lock of black hair fluttered down to the ground, sliced off by the sharp inner energy.

The glistening tip of the sharp blade sat less than a centimeter away from Fuyao’s forehead, less than a centimeter away in disfiguring her.

Without flinching, Meng Fuyao calmly put down the sword and laughed. “Aiya, this elder, thank you so much for helping me get rid of this troublesome fringe.”

The elder in grey suddenly questioned, “You have Dafeng’s ‘Tempest’ in your inner energy, are you his disciple?”

Fuyao studied her intently. A pale face with delicate and refined features. Under the straight pair of brows was a pair of clouded eyes that seemed to stare into a distance. Her features revealed no signs of age — she could pass off as if she was in her forties or fifties, or perhaps twenties or thirties.

Meng Fuyao’s eyes flickered. From her tone, Fuyao could tell that she was probably one of the top ten martial artists. ‘Yun Heng’s gender is unknown, both Yun Hun and Wu Yin are female, who is this?’

Also, according to Zong Yue, amongst these three people, one of them held a grudge against Dafeng. Meng Fuyao contemplated her answer carefully as she did not know if this elder was the one that resented Dafeng.

Meng Fuyao dug her fingers in Zhan Nancheng neck as she lifted her sword in front of her. She laughed humorlessly. “I do not know Elder Dafeng. It was merely a chance encounter in some random cell a while back that we met. He forcefully transferred some inner energy to me, almost destroying my martial arts and taking my life. I guess this is the ‘Tempest’ you are speaking of?”

“Dafeng has a good eye,” The elder in grey peered at Meng Fuyao, you have a good constitute, well suited for my clan… what a pity…”

Meng Fuyao once again readied herself.

Hu—

An undercurrent stirred up around Meng Fuyao’s feet, silently yet overbearing. With a tug around her ankles, Meng Fuyao was hurled aside by the undercurrent before she could react.

Meng Fuyao hit the wall heavily as a mouthful of blood spattered on the floor.

“What a pity…” the elder in grey repeated.

With a bam, Meng Fuyao landed at the corner of the table this time, ending up with a chipped tooth.

“Pity…”

Bam!

Meng Fuyao slid across the floor as friction peeled off pieces of her skin.

“Pity…”

Kacha!

One of the finger Meng Fuyao had used to hold her dagger snapped in half. Even so, she still grabbed tightly onto Zhan Nancheng.

No matter what unknown force crashed her way, she refused to let go. Her blood or teeth, her meat or skin, her finger or joint, whatever the elder broke, whatever the elder cut off, she refused to let him go.

Meng Fuyao’s dagger never once left Zhan Nancheng’s throat. Every time the dagger swayed, Zhan Nancheng’s heart palpitated in fear. Every time she was tossed out, the sharp blade would leave its mark on his body. With every drop of blood she lost, he would have to compensate that, many times over.

The elder in grey finally stopped her attacks. With a majestic aura, she pulled back her sleeves and shook her head. “I’ve never seen someone as cruel and unruly as you.”