There was a thick old tree in the side room of the nunnery. Tin Aino hid behind the old tree, her heart pounding.
Yang Fan almost saw her just now. Fortunately, she hid in time.
Tin Aino pressed her chest and heaved a sigh of relief. She quietly leaned out to look outside. From this angle, she could no longer see Yang Fan's figure.
The Tian Ai Nu looked around and did not see any other nuns around. She then leaped onto the wall of the nunnery like a nimble leopard cat. In a flash, she disappeared into the bushes outside the wall.
Tin Aino was only afraid of the feeling of being abandoned. She was angry because Yang Fan married her without telling her. If she really hated Yang Fan, why would she pick up the butcher's knife without hesitation when she learned that Yang Fan was in prison?
There was still a faint smell of blood on the candlestick in front of the Buddha hall.
Yang Fan's confession that day, coupled with his continuous visits to the Tranquil Nunnery, had softened her heart. Just as Yang Fan expected, she was just shy and reserved as a girl. She could not let go of her pride. In fact, for the past few days, every night when Yang Fan left, she would follow him out until she "sent" him out of the jungle.
It was already late autumn, and the trees were rustling. When the autumn wind passed, the few remaining leaves on the branches would flutter down like butterflies. Yang Fan walked alone in the forest. He stepped on the rustling leaves and bathed in the sunset. The sunset was as red as blood, plated his body with a layer of blood.
Yang Fan walked on the familiar path in the forest. His footsteps were light and silent.
Suddenly, he lifted his front foot. It was about three inches away from the ground, and his body froze there.
The autumn wind blew, and a few withered yellow leaves floated down and landed on his shoulder. The desolate branches swayed in the autumn wind, and the yellow leaves on the ground trembled slightly, as if there were countless silkworms beneath them, trying their best to arch their bodies.
Yang Fan remained motionless.
Perhaps it was only for a moment, but Yang Fan suddenly moved. His right leg, which was in the air, suddenly retracted, stepped, and kicked. His movement was as fast as lightning. The yellow leaves on the ground that had been swept up by the wind seemed to have been struck by lightning. With a "Peng" sound, they splashed up and scattered everywhere.
Yang Fan quickly retreated as the fallen leaves exploded into snowflakes that filled the sky. There was a 'peng' sound, leaving half of his sleeve behind. It was shredded into pieces by a ray of cold light, like butterflies flying in the air.
Yang Fan flashed, flashed again, flashed three times, flashed three times, and his figure was already seven zhang away. Every time he landed on the ground and sprang back, there would be a flash of cold light the moment his figure disappeared. Wherever the cold light passed, trees would break, branches would shatter, and sawdust would fly.
Yang Fan retreated seven zhang away before he could pull out his saber. As soon as the saber was unsheathed, the cold light wrapped in a whirlwind attacked his side. But Yang Fan was not a tree, nor was he a branch. He would not obediently stand there and wait to be chopped.
The two cold lights intertwined, like two silver shuttles flying back and forth in the air, drawing out silver splendor. The crimson setting sun shone on these two rays of cold light, causing the rays of light that filled the sky to be tinged with a hint of blood.
The densely intertwined light suddenly separated, and then combined again. The momentum of the two lights changed greatly. The saber in Yang Fan's hand swung and closed, suddenly advancing and retreating, as if it had formed a dancing waterfall around his body. But the cold light opposite him was still like a silver shuttle piercing through the air, advancing and retreating, small and compact.
Suddenly, the two weapons fiercely collided, creating a string of sparks. The two people suddenly separated, each like a wild goose leaping back more than ten zhang, and then stood upright. Only then did Yang Fan see the person's appearance.
This was a very ordinary looking middle-aged man, probably only in his early thirties. He looked very much like an honest man who had been working in a shop for more than ten years. But now he was holding a saber in his hand, a single-edged, narrow, and strangely shaped short saber.
The appearance of the saber was very strange, but Yang Fan knew better than anyone how terrifying this strange saber was. If his movements had been slightly slower, he would already be a dead man with his stomach cut open.
This person's saber technique was very crafty and strange. Yang Fan's ancestor was a great master of the saber, and he knew the world's saber techniques in detail. Generally speaking, the sword was light and agile, and the saber technique was hard and fierce. But this ordinary-looking person in front of him used a saber technique that combined the lightness of the sword and the fierceness of the saber, and even had a kind of crafty and ruthless edge to it.
"Why do you want to kill me?"
Yang Fan asked coldly. He didn't reveal his identity, nor did he say any useless nonsense. To deliberately attack him in this place, it was definitely not because they recognized the wrong person or some other inexplicable reason. The other party definitely came prepared, and the person they wanted to kill was him.
But Yang Fan really couldn't think of anyone who would use assassination methods to deal with him. Ever since he arrived in Luoyang, he had always been the one pretending to be an assassin. Killing Yang Mingsheng, killing Qiu Shenji, killing Shenke Miao … This was the first time he was assassinated by someone else, and the first time he encountered a troublesome expert who used the saber.
Situ Liang laughed, and only said one sentence, "Because you deserve to die!" Then, like a mad dog, he pounced forward again.
His appearance was like an honest man who was praised by his neighbors as having an extremely good temper, an extremely gentle temperament, and someone who wouldn't make a fart after being kicked three times. But his current actions were like an honest man who suddenly discovered that his wife had been slept with by someone else, and that his child was raised by someone else.
He held a narrow and short saber and fiercely pounced forward. This time, he switched to short and fast steps. Yang Fan discovered that every time his feet landed on the ground, it wasn't the tip of his foot, but the outside or inside of his foot. His footwork was just like his saber, similarly unconventional and incomparably dangerous.
He closed in with unbelievably fast steps. The short saber in his hand was like raindrops as it slashed towards Yang Fan from all sorts of inconceivable angles. The current Situ Liang was like a spinning top, and Yang Fan was the center of the spinning top.
Or perhaps, Yang Fan was the spinning top, and he was the whip that whipped the spinning top. The two sabers clashed like beans being fried, short and intense. The two of them were spinning rapidly, and the leaves around them were spinning rapidly as well. There were drops of blood in the air, but it was unknown who was injured.
"Crack!"
A teeth-numbing sound rang out. Yang Fan's saber and Situ Liang's saber suddenly broke at the same time.
Yang Fan lost the initiative, and it was his first time encountering such a tricky and strange saber technique. He was still not used to the opponent's fighting style, and as Situ Liang closed in on him, it was hard for him to use his long saber. His body had already received a few saber wounds, but luckily, he was able to protect himself in time, so the wounds weren't deep, and they weren't fatal.
However, he was clear in his heart that if the opponent continued to fight like this, he would die without a doubt if he made even the slightest mistake. Thus, he found an opportunity to forcefully clash with Situ Liang's saber. With a clash and a twist, the two sabers broke.
This time, it was Yang Fan who took the initiative. As soon as the saber broke, Situ Liang was startled. Yang Fan was already mentally prepared, but the moment the saber broke, he had already pounced forward. He lowered his body, grabbed Situ Liang's leg, and twisted his elbow towards his lower abdomen, causing Situ Liang to fall on his back. Yang Fan then fiercely pressed forward.
Not only was Yang Fan good at saber techniques, he was also good at wrestling techniques. As he pounced forward, the two of them began to fight on the ground, rolling and rolling like two dragons rolling on the ground.
If an outsider who didn't know the ropes saw this, the two of them fighting right now would be no different from hoodlums in the alleys. Although the fists hit the flesh and the fight was fierce, it didn't have the demeanor of an expert at all. Would an expert fight like a rolling dragon, entangling and rolling on the ground?
However, Situ Liang, who was in the middle of it, had a hard time saying anything. Yang Fan's ferocious and fierce fighting style seemed to be without any style, but it was actually very methodical. It was definitely not something that a hoodlum could use in a fight. Within the fists, there were falls, and within the falls, there were fists, and within the falls, there were fists, making it impossible to defend against.
Although the two of them were entangled together, twisting and turning in the space of several meters around them like two entangled dragons, Yang Fan was always able to cleverly interweave his fists and legs while entangling him. Even if it was a few inches away, the power of the fists was still extremely powerful.
Just now, Situ Liang relied on his advantage and strange saber techniques to open up a few wounds on Yang Fan's body. However, right now, he was being dragged to the ground by Yang Fan. In an instant, he was beaten black and blue, and two of his ribs were broken. It was just that he didn't notice in the fierce fight that he had already started to vomit blood.
Situ Liang was better than Yang Fan in terms of fighting techniques and martial arts attainments, but once it turned into this kind of close combat that only focused on speed and power, and Yang Fan was good at wrestling, how could he still be an opponent for Yang Fan? Yang Fan's storm-like punches and kicks made Situ Liang dizzy and disoriented.
Situ Liang saw that he couldn't go on like this, so he gathered a mouthful of qi from his dantian and forcefully endured dozens of heavy punches. Finally, he caught his breath. He let out a loud roar and coiled his legs around Yang Fan's legs. He bent his upper body and pressed his head against Yang Fan's as he reached his hands into his boots.
He still had a saber, he was originally an assassin. If he didn't try to fight Yang Fan head on and kill him fair and square, so he purposely revealed his tracks to let Yang Fan discover him and instead launched a surprise attack, then Yang Fan would have already become a cold corpse.
Now that he had no choice, Situ Liang finally pulled out his second saber.
His five fingers reached out, and he grabbed onto the hilt of the saber in his boots. However, the dazzling saber aura only appeared halfway before it forever stopped there.
On his chest, a twisted "little snake" suddenly appeared. That "little snake" was dark red in color, and it was still dripping blood drop by drop. In just a moment, that drop of blood turned into a line of blood, as if it was the tongue of a poisonous snake that was swaying in the wind.
It was a branch, and the branch wasn't straight. The branch was a bit crooked, and after being dyed red by the blood, it blurred its original shape.
The branch that came out from Situ Liang's chest wasn't thick, it was a bit thinner than a pinky, but the part that pierced through his chest was as thick as a chicken egg. The branch was held in a white and beautiful hand, and that hand was slowly releasing it inch by inch. The branch that was more than three feet long hung over Situ Liang's body.
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