(I can't be proud of myself anymore. I reread the first chapter and found that there were many typos and small problems. I fixed it, but I don't know if it's finished or not. Also, when I reread it, I found that it wasn't as good as I thought it was. But, honestly, I like this chapter. Ah, I am middle-aged, and my skin is getting thicker and thicker.)
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In the Hanging Temple, the Emperor's anger had faded, and his face was calm. It was as if the wood shavings under his feet, the blood in the building, the dead bodies of the guards and assassins, the injured and unconscious people, and the sweet smell in the air did not exist. It was as if he had not encountered an assassination that had been planned by the enemy for many years, and that he was just having a chrysanthemum viewing party that happened once every three years.
Some people began to clean up the mess inside the temple. Many of the palace's aces were crowded on the top floor, as if they wanted to crush the building. The faces of the guards responsible for the Emperor's safety were deathly pale. The eunuchs, including Eunuch Dai, were all trembling. They didn't know what changes the Emperor's assassination would bring to their fate, or if it would directly stop their fated journey.
The Crown Prince had already climbed up from the ground. His face was wet with tears. He knelt in front of the Emperor with his eldest brother and apologized, "I am useless, and I have frightened you."
The Great Prince spoke with a heavy tone. He had killed countless enemies in the West, but he did not expect that when the assassins came, he would not even have the ability to react. And Fan Xian, whom he had looked down on, was skilled and quick to react.
"Once you enter the ninth level, you are no longer ordinary. Although you are my sons, it is natural that you could not react in time to these fugitives." The Emperor did not seem to have any intention of blaming his sons. He only glanced at the ninth-level assassin who had died in the hands of Eunuch Hong in the corner, and then at the wine cup that the Crown Prince had stepped on and broken. He frowned.
He gently held the frightened Third Prince in his arms, but his eyes were focused on the chrysanthemums that covered the mountain below. On the hillside, he could see the occasional movement, and the leaves were flying and breaking.
"I will go." Eunuch Hong spoke humbly from behind the Emperor. It seemed that he did not think that he should firmly guard the Emperor's side after an assassination attempt. "Sir Fan junior has been ill recently. I am worried."
The medicine pouch that Fan Xian had thrown on the floor before he left was very conspicuous. The poisonous smoke had filled the entire building, and there were bound to be people who inhaled it, so he had left behind the antidote pill. Looking at the medicine bag on the ground and thinking of the child's attentiveness, a glimmer of guilt flashed through the Emperor's eyes. Only now did he remember that Fan Xian's health had been problematic recently. Furthermore, when Eunuch Hong had visited the Fan manor last time, he had confirmed that the illness in his body was indeed troublesome.
His fingers lightly tapped on the railing of the Floating Temple. Fan Jian, who had been hiding behind the nobles, seemed to sense something. He looked up.
"Don't go," the Emperor said coldly to Eunuch Hong. "I will send someone."
As soon as he finished speaking, a few strange noises came from the valley below the Floating Temple. A few shadows rose from their hiding places, carrying long knives. They followed the steep mountain rocks and rushed into the sea of flowers. Not long after, they passed the palace guards, who had set off earlier, and followed the trail of the three people in front.
They were the Tiger Guards.
— — — —
There was a temple in the mountain, and in front of the temple was a ravine. However, the ravine was a bit steep.
Fan Xian ran through the ravine and the fields. Occasionally, he would reach out and pluck away the branches that came his way. He smelled the faint fragrance of the crushed chrysanthemum petals, and it was like he had eaten opium. The zhenqi in his body followed the two paths, and it quickly replenished his energy and strength. His feet seemed to have grown eyes, and they landed on the rocks below. His body was like a black dragon, and he rushed down the mountain at an astonishing speed.
When it came to jumping off a cliff, other than Wu Zhu, there was no one in the world who could be faster than him. Furthermore, after today's battle with the white-clothed swordsman, his internal training had been greatly shaken. His zhenqi was abundant, and his mental state was at its peak. The injury on his left shoulder was nothing.
Dozens of feet in front of him, the faintly discernible white figure's movements could be considered exquisite. It gathered and dispersed like a cloud and gently resisted the downward force. Its speed did not decrease, but in the end, it could not compare to Fan Xian's acceleration through gravity.
The distance between the two of them grew smaller and smaller.
As for the imperial guards who were still searching for a way down the mountain, they were already left far behind. Even the famous Lord Ye Chong, whose cultivation was obviously focused on the word 'Zhong', was left behind by a long distance.
Before the tea was cold, the two of them had already rushed to the foot of the mountain. Seeing the flag of the imperial army in the distance, Fan Xian let out a sigh of relief. But he was surprised to see the white-clothed swordsman in front of him slanted and forcefully changed his direction. He brushed past the edge of the sparse forest at the foot of the mountain, and rushed west.
They had already stepped onto flat ground. Fan Xian's speed should not have been slower than the white-clothed swordsman, but the white-clothed swordsman had clearly suffered a great loss from Ye Zhong's palm. He could not increase his speed, and so Fan Xian followed him closely.
But seeing the direction his opponent had chosen, Fan Xian could not help but feel a chill in his heart.
Communication between the mountain and the foot of the mountain was not easy. Even if news of the Emperor's assassination had already spread, the imperial soldiers at the foot of the mountain would not be able to respond immediately. Moreover, the direction the white-clothed swordsman had chosen was the most difficult place for the imperial soldiers to cover. It was a primitive forest. Although the area of the forest was not large, it was enough to cover the white-clothed swordsman's escape.
He chased in silence, hoping that the commander of the imperial army would not forget that direction because of Gong Dian's negligence.
What comforted him was that the area outside the forest was clearly guarded. The white-clothed swordsman, while running at high speed, forcefully changed his direction again, cutting through in the direction of the two o 'clock.
Fan Xian followed closely.
The white-clothed swordsman turned again.
Fan Xian followed again.
After several sudden changes in direction, the white-clothed swordsman beautifully maintained the distance between him and the imperial soldiers in the distance. Fan Xian had no extra energy to call for help.
With a whoosh, the white-clothed swordsman suddenly sped up, sweeping towards the surface of a lake in front of him!
…
…
After Fan Xian gritted his teeth and followed, he realized something with some fear.
He had already followed the assassin through the imperial army's encirclement at the foot of the mountain!
There was nothing in front of him, and no one was guarding it. Fan Xian's heart trembled. He could not understand how the white-clothed swordsman had escaped the watchful eyes of the imperial army. Other than the fact that the two of them were fast enough, the only explanation was that the white-clothed swordsman was terrifyingly familiar with the arrangements of the imperial army, as well as the Qing court's emergency response!
Fan Xian remembered that Gong Dian had not appeared in the Floating Temple today, and he felt a chill crawl up his back. But now was not the time to think about schemes. Ye Zhong was too heavy, and the guards were too slow. There was no one beside him. If he let this assassin disappear before his eyes, Fan Xian knew that he would be in big trouble.
He could not turn back. He could only fly. He could only give chase.
— — — —
Fan Xian had full confidence in his tracking skills, especially on that night on the shores of the North Sea. He had led a few Tiger Guards and chased Xiao En, who had once dominated the world, into a miserable state. He did not believe that aside from the Four Great Grandmasters, there was anyone else who could escape his tracking.
But today, a series of surprises came one after another, and it made him feel a little cold. First, the assassin was able to easily pass through the imperial army's encirclement, and then he displayed a very strong ability to escape. From the foot of the mountain to the lake, through the lake, between the farmhouses and the fields, the white-clothed swordsman had already disappeared from Fan Xian's sight a few times. If it were not for Fan Xian's amazing eyesight and extraordinary luck, he would have been lost a long time ago.
And the white-clothed assassin's steadiness along the way … it even seemed to be an instinctive reaction. It was something that Fan Xian admired. He had been exposed to the Overwatch Council since he was young, and he knew how many years of immersion it took to achieve this.
Fan Xian noticed the way the white-clothed swordsman covered his tracks. He was very experienced, and there was something sinister about him. It was very familiar to Fan Xian – it was like the darkness he was already very familiar with. Compared to the white-clothed swordsman, there was something very different about it.
This was the true face of the white-clothed swordsman. He was calm, calm, ruthless, and decisive. All of these were the pinnacle of the human world.
That sword strike in the Floating Temple, although brilliant and heroic, did not seem as frightening as the dark aura emanating from the swordsman right now. The true power that the swordsman displayed had long surpassed that of the old Xiao En, and was even greater than Fan Xian's true power.
Fan Xian was becoming more and more alarmed. At the Floating Temple, he had been too impulsive, too hot-blooded. Now that he had calmed down, he could properly assess the power of the swordsman's strike. If Ye had not injured the swordsman, perhaps the only thing Fan Xian would have done now would have been to immediately stop and get as far away from the white-clothed man as possible.
…
…
In front of the two of them, the capital was in sight. The city walls were tall and imposing.
With a roar, the white-clothed swordsman did not stop. He single-handedly took off his snow-white robe, revealing a simple set of clothing underneath. It was similar to what the commoners of the capital would wear.
The white robe fell into the mud. A moment later, the tip of a foot lightly touched the cloth, and a shadow quickly flew past.
Fan Xian looked at the swordsman, who had already disguised himself as a commoner. His admiration for the swordsman was at its peak. His opponent did not flee to the outskirts like the other assassins. Instead, he walked right into the trap and killed his way into the capital. There were tens of thousands of people in the capital, and if the swordsman was able to blend in with them, he must have had a reliable identity. Even if the Overwatch Council mobilized all of their forces, they would not be able to find him.
Today, the royal family had gathered at the Floating Temple, so the security of the capital was naturally lax. The soldiers at the gate felt their vision blur, and after rubbing their eyes, they did not know what had happened.
Fan Xian could see clearly that the swordsman had already blended into the crowd of the capital. He was not afraid of shocking the crowd, and so he rushed straight through the gate.
When he entered the city, he was not blocked, and he was still able to follow the assassin. In the complicated situation of the capital, it was the time to truly test the abilities of the assassins in the dark. Fan Xian used all of his skills to not lose sight of the shadow-like figure in front of him. Fortunately, he was in a good state of mind, and his speed did not decrease.
The silent pursuit and counter-pursuit took place in the private residences and alleys of the capital. Perhaps it was not as dangerous as last time on the shore of the North Sea, but the degree of tension was much greater.
A shadow floated in the corner of a building. His bamboo shoes tapped against the ground, and he passed through the busy streets of the old city. He knocked over a hawker selling candied fruits. It was this knock that allowed Fan Xian to determine that the assassin was heavily injured. It looked like he could not hold on much longer, and that was why he could not control his body.
…
…
A dead alley suddenly appeared. After a series of hurried and light footsteps, Fan Xian finally succeeded in blocking the swordsman at the end of the alley.
After repeated trekking and using his heart and mind, his face was unnaturally pale, but his cheeks were flushed with excitement, and his eyes were bright. It was a sign that the zhenqi in his body had reached its peak.
The assassin in the alley was in a worse state. His white clothes were gone, and under his ordinary clothes, blood could be seen faintly seeping out.
The assassin turned around. It was a completely unfamiliar face to Fan Xian, and it was also incomparably pale. Presumably, he rarely saw the sun, and Fan Xian didn't know if he had changed his appearance. He looked at Fan Xian, who was only ten steps away from him, and said in a raspy voice,
"Sir Fan junior, are you not tired?"
Fan Xian was slightly startled, and said quietly, "I did not think you could run this far."
The assassin faintly smiled and gently stretched his hand into his outer robe. He slowly took out the ancient sword that was as cold as autumn water. With the sword in his hand, his entire temperament changed. He immediately changed from a dark assassin fleeing for his life to a proud swordsman. His entire body was filled with confidence and pride.
"I originally did not want to kill you."
Fan Xian was silent. He knew that if his opponent had not been injured, he would indeed have had the strength to say such a seemingly arrogant thing. Feeling the cold sword intent at the end of the alley, he unconsciously prepared to pull the trigger of the hidden crossbow, take out the black dagger hidden in his boots, and throw out the poisonous smoke he was most skilled at … but unexpectedly … he did not touch the dagger. The poisonous smoke ran out, and the hidden crossbow was no longer there.
"You are naked," the nameless assassin said coldly. The nameless assassin said coldly, "You only have three crossbow bolts, one dagger, and fourteen Smoke Bursting Pills. And now … you are naked."
Fan Xian lowered his head slightly, and his expression darkened. He knew that he had indeed run into the capital naked. The three treasures that had always helped him were no longer at his side — with these three treasures in hand, he dared to fight Haitang head-on. And now, faced with a top master whose overall strength was no less than Haitang's, what could Fan Xian do? He could only pray that his opponent's injuries would act up a little faster … and that Uncle Wu Zhu would come a little faster.
The abundant zhenqi in his body had already reached the pinnacle, causing his mind to become firm and confident. The zhenqi that was rapidly circulating in his meridians was like countless naughty children, persuading him to use his own strength to fight fiercely with his opponent.
But unexpectedly … he only took a deep breath and suppressed his desire to fight. He looked at his opponent with a gaze without a trace of emotion, smiled and said, "Tell me your identity that satisfies me … and I will not pursue you."
This was a deal. This was a deal he had risked to follow this top master all the way to the capital … to make a deal. The assassination attempt in the Floating Temple was too strange. Gong Dian's strange negligence of duty, the ingenious arrangements made during the assassination, the appearance and departure of the assassin before him, and his familiarity with the internal affairs of the Qing Kingdom, all revealed a frightening truth. This assassination attempt was definitely not just a single force, and there must have been people from within the Qing Kingdom.
Fan Xian only needed to know the true origin of this matter, and not act like a warrior to wash away the Emperor's shame. He was not simply a loyal official. He cared more about the relationship between this assassination and himself, his father, and the Overwatch Council.
"Don't say things like integrity." Fan Xian's head was still lowered, and he smiled. "You and I are the same kind of people. I know that promises are meaningless. Give me the information I need, and I will let you go."
The assassin was silent, tacitly agreeing to what he said. But just when Fan Xian thought he would accept this seemingly fair deal for both sides, the assassin suddenly said, "The question now is, if I kill you, can I leave as well?"
This world was truly wonderful. Fan Xian had valiantly rejected the Second Prince's proposal of reconciliation and coexistence, which seemed to everyone to be perfect. At this moment, there were also people who had valiantly rejected him.
What did he rely on? Of course, it was power.
…
…
The light of the sword seemed to light up the entire alley in an instant. The autumn leaves were also blown up by the wind of the sword, and they flew chaotically between the two of them. That ancient sword, accompanied by the sad and beautiful leaves, suddenly and decisively appeared in front of Fan Xian.
Just like on the top floor of the Floating Temple, the zhenqi in Fan Xian's body rushed out and gathered on his palms. It was as if he could split the sky and the earth. With a powerful palm wind, he slapped the opponent's face. He didn't even look at the sword coming at him.
The palm wind was so strong that it shook the swordsman's hair back like steel thorns.
In terms of martial arts, he was not as good as his opponent, so he had to fight with his life. And he knew that the more an assassin killed, the more he valued his life, and the more arrogant he was. How could he trade his life for his own?
As he wished, his opponent swung the sword and slashed at his palms. Fan Xian quickly pulled his hands back and turned into two black shadows. They went straight for his opponent's temples. The two punches were clean and simple, but they were unusually fierce.
It was at this moment that the swordsman he was fighting did something that Fan Xian would never have thought possible!
The swordsman no longer waved his sword as freely as a master painter. He no longer used the sword in an extremely clever manner. He directly abandoned his sword.
The sword left his hand and shot out, heading straight for Fan Xian's throat. His body strangely shrank and dodged Fan Xian's fierce fist wind. He put his hand on the opening of his left boot.
He took out a dull and lusterless dagger.
…
…
Fan Xian gave a muffled cry and pulled back his fist. He used his powerful zhenqi to knock the fatal sword away. The ancient sword flew out in a straight line and stuck into the wall of the alley. It trembled and buzzed.
What shocked him even more was that his opponent had taken out a dagger from his boot and thrust it at him. This move was all too familiar to Fan Xian!
When the swordsman held the ancient sword in his hand, he was open and aboveboard. He was an upright and unparalleled swordsman, so Fan Xian used his Tyrannical zhenqi to counter him. However, after the swordsman abandoned his sword, his whole body seemed to disappear. He became a phantom in the autumn wind, holding a sharp dagger in his hand, and suddenly stabbed out.
This powerful change in temperament happened suddenly. Fan Xian was almost unable to react in time. A small cut appeared on his left arm.
In a flash, the two black and gray figures began to fight in the alley. They fought close to each other, using strange methods. The blades were silent, and the tips were sinister. In a very small area, they carried out a very dangerous assassination. Their movements grew faster and faster. They bent their elbows and lifted their knees, lifted their stomachs, and chopped their feet. From the corner of the wall to the wall, they fell to the ground. A series of shocking sounds rang out.
If Fan Xian had not been trained by Wu Zhu from a young age, if he had not been steeped in the style of the Overwatch Council, and if he had not always walked this path, he would probably have been pierced with countless bloody holes by that dagger. But no matter how fast he dodged, he was still cut by that dagger, which seemed to be infected with a soul-devouring aura, and countless bloody wounds appeared on his body.
His opponent must have been very clear about the structure of the Overwatch Council's uniform. The point of the dagger cut all the places that were not heavily protected.
But what made Fan Xian's heart jump was that his opponent had studied him very thoroughly. He had calculated the path of his attack. The little tricks that he relied on to save his life were always predicted and dodged by his opponent before he could use them. Whether it was the pinky, the eyeball, the pinch, or the elbow … all the shameless, dirty, and sinister moves lost their effectiveness.
A pale gray light flashed before Fan Xian's eyes. The tip of the dagger pierced straight down. This made him think of Wu Zhu's staff. It made him think of Wu Zhu's words: straight, ruthless, and accurate.
The reason why Fan Xian could still reminisce about the past, even when he was about to die, was because he still had a move called the Coffin Breaker. There was still a blade hidden in the tips of his boots.
With a flick of his hand, the violent zhenqi in his body burst forth. The Overwatch Council's uniform on his arm was shaken to shreds. His right hand, stimulated by the zhenqi, shook incessantly. Faintly, there was a hint of the elegance of Ye Liuyun's sanshou from the cliffs of Danzhou.
The assassin, who was attached to his left arm like a ghost, felt a powerful and heart-wrenching zhenqi hit him in the face. His opponent's slapping fingers scattered like withered twigs.
The assassin's chest tightened, and he was shaken back. The tip of his foot stepped down, right on the tip of Fan Xian's sinister boot, and he floated back three feet.
Fan Xian gave a muffled grunt. Holding the wound on his left arm, he looked at the terrifying enemy in front of him. Seeing that his opponent was also covering his mouth and bleeding, he felt a little more at ease.
But Wu Zhu hadn't arrived yet.
…
…
The assassin moved his elbow, holding the gray dagger horizontally in front of his eyes. In a raspy voice, he said, "I learned this from you."
Fan Xian's face was gloomy. He could feel his energy seeping out of his wound. "You're welcome," he said coldly.
There was no time left for him to treat his wounds and adjust his breathing, and it was clear that his opponent was more resilient to injuries than Fan Xian was. So Fan Xian did not say anything else. He tapped the wall with the tip of his foot and knocked down a few gray bricks. His whole body was already pouncing forward like a tiger!
The assassin took a step back, leapt up, and backhanded his dagger, stabbing towards Fan Xian's temple.
Fan Xian's figure paused. His aura changed from ruthlessness to softness. His entire body took a risk as he circled a small circle around the dagger. A cold light flashed between the two fingers of his right hand. He extended them out like a ghost from behind his neck. In an instant, he was about to gently pinch the poisonous needle and stab it into the hand that held the dagger with unusual stability … between the thumb and index finger.
But he didn't expect that the dagger the assassin used to backhand was a feint. When the tip of the needle reached out, his opponent had already calmly pulled back the dagger by three inches, allowing the poisonous needle to stab into the horizontal surface of the dagger. The tip of the needle was a few inches short, and it seemed extremely fragile.
Immediately after, the assassin's knee struck the back of Fan Xian's waist. A sharp pain made him turn his body sideways, and then he saw that the terrifying dagger was only a short distance away from his chest.
Looking at the dagger, Fan Xian felt hopeless. His opponent had been so well-prepared that he even knew the location of his three life-saving hairpins!
And … Wu Zhu still hadn't arrived.
…
…
Receiving a heavy blow to his waist, Fan Xian's muffled grunt turned into an extremely berserk cry.
"Ah!"
At the moment of life and death, he finally stimulated the greatest potential in his body. He absorbed all of that powerful killing power into the snowy mountain, urged his powerful zhenqi to move to his arms, and clamped down on the dagger.
His palms clamped down on the dagger, and there was a very unpleasant hoarse sound, as if a red hot iron was slowly scratching across the coarse soles of his feet.
The two of them were so close that Fan Xian could see the glimmer of a smile in his opponent's eyes.
Things like bad luck always came together. At this moment, Fan Xian had already reached the most dangerous moment. The biggest hidden danger in his body had finally exploded and let out a fatal roar.
The ruthless zhenqi was like a disobedient child or a beast that was difficult to tame. Unusually unsteadily, it began to pulse through his meridians. The accumulated zhenqi in the snowy mountain seemed to have finally broken through its limit following this exhausting battle.
It exploded.
…
…
In such a short moment, Fan Xian already felt a pain he had never felt before. Every nerve in his body that could feel felt as if it had been torn apart. It was incomparably painful. The zhenqi in his body wildly broke through the walls and charged into his body. In a moment, it disappeared into his organs and could no longer be moved.
Without all of his zhenqi, his palms were powerless.
With a soft sound, the dark dagger that had been unable to truly stab Fan Xian pierced into his chest in such a simple and even somewhat absurd manner.
Fan Xian loosened his palms and looked incredulously at the dagger that had suddenly appeared in his chest. He could only see the back of the dagger.
Even the top assassin seemed to be stunned. He looked stupidly at the dagger in Fan Xian's chest and did nothing else.
After an indeterminable amount of time, the pain finally reached Fan Xian's brain. Only then did he understand that he had been stabbed deeply. He was afraid that his little life would be lost in a small alley in a different world.
He was unwilling! There were still many things he had not done. He had not had a child, had not copied the 78th chapter of Dream of the Red Chamber, had not gone to the palace treasury to see Ye Qingmei's furniture, had not gone to the Temple to peep, had not stood in the great hall of the Royal Palace to announce his identity to the world.
Most unwilling of all was … blind man, why haven't you come yet?
…
…
"Accident."
Surprisingly, other than Fan Xian, who did not forget his previous life, Zhou Xingxing, the person who said these two words was also the swordsman opposite him. However, Fan Xian said it with great unwillingness and the other person said it with great innocence.
The assassin finally let go of the dagger in his hand. Fan Xian's legs softened, and he fell to the ground.
When the Qing Emperor's most elite Tiger Guards finally arrived at the alley with great difficulty, they did not have time to participate in this fierce battle. They only had time to watch a commoner-like person let go of the dagger in Sir Fan junior's chest. Then, he became a black shadow and swept past the wall at the end of the alley.
As for Sir Fan junior, the incomparably powerful figure that these Tiger Guards secretly talked about, he fell stiffly to the ground in the alley like a drunkard.
"After him!" one of the Tiger Guards growled in a low voice.
"Split into two and rescue him first!"
The leader of this group of Tiger Guards, Gao Da, had a murderous and gloomy face. He crouched beside Fan Xian and looked at the young official who had brought him to Northern Qi. He was extremely nervous and worried.
After an indeterminable amount of time, a voice finally rang out in the alley.
"I won't die." Fan Xian leaned against Gao Da's chest, panting. He looked at the large patch of dark red on his chest. "It wasn't deep enough … but, quickly get the royal doctor … go to the manor and find my sister to get an antidote … and ask His Majesty to urgently summon Fei Jie back to the capital … my life is important."
Having said this, Fan Xian closed his eyes and fainted. But before he fainted, he used his somewhat blurry eyes to look at the mud wall that the assassin had escaped through. The strange situation after the accidental injury had already allowed him to vaguely guess the identity of that terrifying assassin. But this matter was too complicated, too frightening, so frightening that he would rather unconsciously let himself fall unconscious than continue thinking about it.
(To be continued, if you want to know what happened next, please log on to WWW. CMFU. com. There are more chapters. Support the author. Support the original reading!)
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