Chapter 264 - 256: A Body of Brocade, Bones of a Qilin

Chapter 264: Chapter 256: A Body of Brocade, Bones of a Qilin

DRIP, DRIP—

Rainwater trickled down the eaves, striking the puddles below with a crisp sound.

The slash on the memorial archway’s pillar was deep. When sunlight shone into it, the collected rainwater glittered, making it look from a distance as if the stone itself had opened its eye.

The sun emerged after the rain, its warm rays spilling onto one’s shoulders. The air was so clean it was unreal.

Everything seemed so tranquil and beautiful.

’So beautiful it was disorienting—did the slaughter, the blood, the wails, the flashing blades under that dim, torrential downpour... really just happen on this street?’

THUD!—

It wasn’t until something slid limply down and landed on the ground with a muffled thud that some people were violently dragged back to reality from their daze.

A deep, inexplicable shudder ran through them, as if only now had they truly awakened—

’Yes, just a moment ago, right before our very eyes...’

A supreme master died!!

The Black Tower Deputy Lord, Warm Evil Fan Wuyan, a Heart Intent Supreme Master who had long been famous in the world of Martial Arts!

And now... he was just dead?!

Slain, no less, by a young man who looked to be barely twenty years old!

Who would have believed it if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes?

Once word of this battle got out, heaven only knew what kind of waves it would stir up in the world of Martial Arts!

The delayed shock still left everyone reeling, but at the center of all their gazes, the young man in the shirt, bathed in the golden sunlight, was merely flicking the blood from his hand with a casual air.

When the last drop of blood was gone, he looked down at his hand.

Slender, fair, and perfectly clean.

He smiled, satisfied.

Then he looked up at the nearby tea house with the "Dingqing" sign and called out.

"One of you Gratitude... time to clean up the street."

An eerie silence fell over the scene as his voice faded.

A few breaths later, the small group of people who had retreated to the sides of the street awoke as if from a dream, their faces changing drastically.

One after another, they scrambled to their feet, leaping onto the dripping eaves and fleeing in a panic.

CRACK—

A window lattice on the second floor of Dingqing shattered, and a tall, nimble figure shot out.

The figure used several points in mid-air for leverage before landing steadily in a graceful posture—dressed in indigo martial attire and wielding a bright saber, who else could it be but Southern Blade Nie Yunzhen?

Nie Yunzhen approached the young man with the saber in hand and a solemn expression, cupping his fist and asking, "Young Hero, which one do you want me to pursue?"

The young man smiled and pointed casually in a random direction.

Nie Yunzhen wasted no words, raising his saber and giving chase.

In that moment, he seemed to have completely forgotten his original reason for coming to Shenghai.

.....

Third Floor of Dingqing Tower.

"Moshan."

Wen Zhiqiu, standing quietly by the window, suddenly spoke, his voice filled with emotion.

He turned to Madam Ding beside him. "That nephew of yours..."

Wen Zhiqiu seemed to want to say more, but he couldn’t find the right words to describe him.

He glanced at the empty eight-immortal tables in the third-floor hall, thought for a moment, and said in a low voice, "If not for him today, I don’t know how many more lives would have been lost..."

Wen Zhiqiu picked up a teacup mixed with rainwater from the table. "On behalf of the brothers who died and those who survived, I’ll use this tea as wine to thank him."

Just then, Madam Ding, who had been facing the window the whole time, slowly turned around.

She seemed to have just snapped out of some kind of trance, her face still a little pale.

Behind her, the windowsill where she had been standing was covered in faint, indented fingerprints.

"Mr. Wen, why not thank him in person?"

Madam Ding took a shallow breath, as if trying hard to calm the turmoil within.

She managed to reply, but Wen Zhiqiu didn’t speak, only silently drinking the rainwater from his cup.

Seeing Madam Ding rush downstairs, taking two steps at a time in her impatience, Wen Zhiqiu smiled and gently set down his teacup.

Not long after, a soft, lyrical sigh echoed through the third-floor hall, where he was now the only one left.

"A magnificent physique, bones of a qilin, a youth of towering talent, martial prowess that crowns an army..."

.....

Fu Juemin stood in the middle of the street, squinting at the azure sky, washed clean by the rain.

Sunlight spilled onto his shoulders, warm and exceptionally reassuring.

After this rain, spring would officially begin.

On both sides of the street, the "ghosts" that had swarmed in during the downpour now fled in panic the moment the sun came out.

Fu Juemin didn’t mind.

TAP-TAP-TAP...

The sound of hurried footsteps rang out.

Fu Juemin looked up and saw a familiar figure rushing toward him.

"Aunt Ding."

Fu Juemin called out.

Madam Ding practically dashed right up to him. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and she said nothing, simply using her two cold hands to carefully pat and feel his face and body.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

Fu Juemin shook his head with a smile. Only then did the tension in Madam Ding’s eyes recede slightly, and she let out a light sigh of relief.

But, as if still not reassured, she continued to check him over from head to toe.

Fu Juemin felt a little helpless but let her be, simply beckoning Big Cat, who was standing nearby.

He gave his orders in a level tone: "Those who just fled—organize some men and give chase.

Kill as many as you can. If you can’t catch them, so be it.

Don’t worry about the few from Gratitude. Each of them was hit by my Five Poison Qi. If they die at the hands of that saber-wielding fellow from before, they can count themselves lucky.

Otherwise, for the next ten or twenty years, they will suffer the full taste of the Five Poisonous Creatures entering their bodies. That’s a feeling worse than death..."

Big Cat acknowledged the order.

After giving his instructions, Fu Juemin’s gaze returned to Madam Ding before him.

Seeing that he was truly uninjured, Madam Ding was now completely at ease.

However, her face held a hesitant expression, as if she wanted to discuss something with him but didn’t know how to begin.

Fu Juemin had seen this same expression on his old man, Fu Guosheng’s, face before. For a disorienting moment, it felt as if certain events were repeating themselves.

He sighed inwardly, then followed Madam Ding’s occasional glances—

A black rickshaw was parked awkwardly at a corner of the street, its puller seemingly unsure whether to stay or go.

Fu Juemin was slightly taken aback.

’I’d almost forgotten about escorting Li Mingyi out of the city.’

"Aunt Ding, are you asking me to see this through to the end and ensure Li Mingyi gets to his destination safely?"

How could Fu Juemin not guess Madam Ding’s thoughts? He spoke calmly.

Madam Ding nodded, her tone slightly hesitant. "If you’re unwilling, then forget it.

You’ve already helped more than enough..."

Fu Juemin looked at the black rickshaw that had seemingly implicated all of Shenghai, thought for a moment, and said, "I never wanted to get involved in this matter.

But now I’m in it up to my neck.

Seeing him a little further won’t hurt...

However, Aunt Ding, you must also agree to one condition of mine."

Madam Ding was taken aback. "What condition?"

Fu Juemin looked into Madam Ding’s eyes, his voice softening as he spoke lowly, "I’ve never met my mother. Aunt Ding, didn’t you say last time that you wanted to go back and visit our hometown?

In a few days, I’d like to ask you to accompany me on a trip home. I really don’t have any memory of it at all. If you don’t go, Aunt Ding, I’m afraid Lingjun won’t even be able to find his way back..."

After he finished speaking, Madam Ding’s gaze grew distant. A moment later, she smiled faintly, reached out to gently caress his cheek, and said softly, "Alright. Aunt Ding promises you."

A smile appeared on Fu Juemin’s face.

He had originally planned to forcibly take Aunt Ding away from the troublesome city of Shenghai after this was all over. It was for the best that she was now willing to go on her own.

He glanced distantly at a figure standing by a window on the third floor of the Dingqing Tea House, then withdrew his gaze and called out casually, "Kitty, prepare a ride for me."

Kitty stepped forward in response, holding the suit jacket he had retrieved for Fu Juemin. He answered in a booming, muffled voice, "Young Master, there’s no car. Will a horse do?"

A white steed with a sleek, glossy coat was led out, as if it had been prepared for him long ago.

Fu Juemin shook his head with a laugh, took the suit jacket from Kitty’s hands, and draped it over his shoulders, concealing the tattered shirt underneath.

With a surge of his Qi Blood, the rain-soaked suit jacket instantly began to steam, releasing wisps of white vapor.

Fu Juemin swung himself onto the horse. The black rickshaw nearby must have also received its orders, as the puller’s spirits lifted and he quickly moved closer.

Sitting atop his horse, Fu Juemin glanced down at Madam Ding, then looked up at Vermilion Bird Street.

His gaze passed over the pillars of the memorial arch in the center of the street, traveled to the street’s end, swept across faces both familiar and unfamiliar, and finally returned to rest on Kitty.

Fu Juemin looked at the stoic Kitty and suddenly asked, "Kitty, was your Young Master impressive today or what?"

Kitty’s reply was swift and earnest. He never told lies.

"In Kitty’s heart, the Young Master is always the most impressive!"

Fu Juemin laughed heartily, pulled a key tied with a red string from his suit pocket, and tossed it to him.

"The key to the Da Guangming Hair Salon... Remember to compensate them for the shop!"

With that, he pulled on the reins. The white horse under him neighed softly, turned, and galloped toward the end of the street.

The rickshaw followed closely behind. The escorts also sprang into action, flowing like a tide from both sides of the street toward the far end, as if seeing off a grand departure.

Fu Juemin, one man on one horse, galloped along the long street.

The ancient, massive Tongji Gate, bathed in the golden afterglow of the sun, slowly opened before him....