Wu Zhu lowered his head slightly, allowing the cold night wind to blow at the black cloth over his eyes. His steady and terrifying right hand slowly gripped the handle of the metal drill at his waist. Step by step, he walked toward the noodle shop.
The clothes on the man in the noodle shop were made of coarse cloth. It was earthen yellow, half-sleeved, and not thick. It was the clothing of the laborers on the south side of the capital. There was nothing unusual about it. He blinked. The coldness in his eyes did not change. The expression on his face did not change. He only followed the sound of Wu Zhu's footsteps and slowly stood up from the bench.
The plain-clothed man held a knife in his hand, a straight knife. With a wave of his hand, the edge of the knife whistled through the air and slashed horizontally. The straight knife landed on the neck of the old shop owner, who was bending over to pick noodles. With a 'chi' sound, the noodle shop owner's neck sprayed out blood and poured into the pot of noodles without missing a single drop!
Immediately after, the noodle shop owner's head made a cracking sound. Like a heavy fruit falling from a tree in autumn, it was separated from the branch and fell into the noodle soup. With a splat, a few streams of hot and bloody soup splashed out.
Without warning, without reason, unusually cold-blooded and steady attack, the noodle shop owner's head was separated from his body. The old head floated up and down in the soup. The soup had already been dyed a murky red. Under the light of the oil lamp that could be extinguished at any moment in the winter night, the scene looked unspeakably terrifying and strange.
Wu Zhu stood thirty feet in front of the cloth-clothed man. The half of his face that was exposed outside the black cloth did not move. It was as if he did not care at all that the man had just killed an innocent noodle shop owner in front of him.
"You came from the south." The blind man's voice was always monotonous and lacked any sense of rhythm.
The cloth-clothed man slowly put away his straight knife. His cold eyes stared at Wu Zhu. Although his eyes and expression did not reveal any emotion, for some reason, it gave people the feeling that he had entered a state of extreme vigilance.
"Routine patrol," the cloth-clothed man said in a weak voice. "I came to find you."
Wu Zhu said, "You came to kill Fan Xian."
The cloth-clothed man said, "You deliberately spread the news."
"Because I could not find you in the south, I could only use this method to force you to show yourself." Wu Zhu looked at him coldly, as if he was looking at a dead man. "You know Fan Xian is her descendant, so of course you would come to the capital to kill him."
The linen-clothed man's eyebrows twitched strangely, as if he wanted to express a kind of astonishment and incomprehension. However, it was clear that his expression was a little stiff, so it looked a little comical. His eyebrows were wriggling like two little worms.
"You knew the reason, so you asked me to come."
…
…
Why did this plain-clothed man come to Jingdou to kill Fan Xian after knowing he was Ye Qingmei's son? From the conversation between Wu Zhu and the plain-clothed man, it was clear that the two knew each other.
Furthermore, Wu Zhu knew that once the other party found out about Fan Xian's past, he would do anything to enter the capital and kill him, so he waited outside Fan Manor. It seemed that the recent turmoil in the capital was perhaps the result of Wu Zhu pretending to have miscalculated, secretly reminding Ku He so that he could uncover Fan Xian's past from the distant Northern Qi without leaving a trace.
If the blind uncle had the ability to construct such a perfect plan, then the only reason he did all of this was to attract the plain-clothed man to the capital.
Who was this man in plain clothes?
— — — —
A few months ago, on the southern coastline of the Kingdom of Qing, a nameless man appeared. He searched everywhere for a blind man, and when he did not receive an answer to his question, he would simply kill everyone who had seen him. There was no reason, and he did not ask for the reason.
He was the southern serial killer that Fan Xian and Yan Bingyun could not forget.
When the Ministry of Justice was at their wits' end, the Overwatch Council finally began to investigate these strange and bizarre murder cases. But every time the aces of the Overwatch Council tracked down this nameless man, he would turn around and mercilessly kill them all. So until now, no one knew what this nameless man looked like. Yan Bingyun had once thought of borrowing soldiers from Fan Xian and using the Tiger Guards to go south because of this man.
When he first appeared in this world, it seemed that he was not used to the ways and principles of this world. That was why he needlessly killed so many people. It was not until later that he gradually understood more things. So he tied his messy hair into the most common bun, put his bare feet into the necessary straw sandals, chose a straight knife that was commonly used by the warriors of the Kingdom of Qing, and at the same time, changed into the least noticeable coarse cloth clothes.
…
…
Wu Zhu took a step forward, getting closer to the noodle stall. He lowered his head slightly and said, "I went south to look for you, but I did not find you."
The cloth-clothed man said something that was difficult to understand. "I looked for you in the south, but I did not find you."
Wu Zhu's feet were bare, while the cloth-clothed man wore straw sandals. Wu Zhu's hair was tightly bound behind his head, and he did not move. The cloth-clothed man's hair was tied into a bun slightly higher.
The aura on the two of them was very similar. Although their clothes and appearances were different, it seemed that these were the only two things that could distinguish the two of them. The aura emanating from their bodies made it clear that these two were ruthless killing machines, but they were also like two hunters hiding in the night. They were clearly looking for each other, but they cared about who found the other first.
They demanded that they be the first to find the other party and not let the other party find them. Although it seemed like there was no difference, it was like a life and death struggle between a hunter and a wounded tiger. Whoever had the upper hand would be able to continue living in this world.
"Someone told you that I was in the south," Wu Zhu said.
The cloth-clothed man did not answer his question. He said directly, "You cannot leave any traces."
Wu Zhu said, "She has already left too many traces. Go back to the Temple, and I will not kill you. "
The cloth-clothed man seemed to find Wu Zhu's words very difficult to understand, and it greatly conflicted with the principles he had always believed in. A strange expression flashed through his cold and bright eyes, an expression that was rarely seen in the eyes of the common people.
"Come back with me." The cloth-clothed man's tone was still as flat as ever.
Wu Zhu's voice was a bit more angry than the other person's. "I forgot some things. Wait for me to remember."
The conversation between the two of them continued with a very strange rhythm. If one paid close attention, one would find that in this continuous conversation, the two of them did not use a single question. Instead, they used a very certain tone to describe something. Perhaps they were both very confident in their ability to make logical judgments. Perhaps only these two strange people could use such leaps of thought to carry out a conversation that was unusually difficult for ordinary people to understand.
The two people's lips suddenly moved, but no sound came out. It was as if they were carrying out a final, silent negotiation.
The negotiation broke down. Wu Zhu took another step toward the noodle stall. The distance between the two of them had already changed from 30 feet to 20 feet.
The cloth-clothed man's face was expressionless. He did not take a single step back. He only stared at Wu Zhu's hand on the metal drill, as if waiting for that pale hand to blossom.
…
…
The sound of a lower pitch came from the stove with the noodle pot. The noodle soup with the human head carried a thick, bloody foam over the top of the pot and flowed along the edge of the pot into the stove. When it came into contact with the fiery red pieces of charcoal, there was a popping sound and a pungent smell of smoke rose into the air.
Wu Zhu moved. The black cloth over his eyes became a black thread in an instant. The metal drill in his hand did not blossom, but like the sharp tip of a winter bamboo, it pierced straight toward the cloth-clothed man's chest.
Strangely, Wu Zhu did not choose to pierce the throat with the drill today.
Almost at the same time he moved, the cloth-clothed man with the straight knife also moved. The two of them used the same reaction time and speed to rush forward. No one could detect the slightest difference.
The distance of 20 feet disappeared without a trace in the blink of an eye. Wu Zhu and the cloth-clothed man suddenly collided.
The speed of the two of them was so fast that it exceeded the limits of what the human eye could see. It was as if in one moment they were standing 20 feet apart, and in the next, they were standing face to face.
Like two streams of light, they suddenly met. With such speed, whether it was Fan Xian before he was injured, or the shadow assassin of the Sixth Bureau, or even Haitang, none of them would be able to react in time. They could only wait helplessly for death. Other than the four Great Grandmasters, no one else in the world had ever touched such a realm.
However, when the streams of light collided, there was no dazzling fireworks. In the blink of an eye, there was a deathly silence.
…
…
The tip of a knife protruded from Wu Zhu's right rib, awe-inspiring and terrifying. Something was dripping from the knife onto the ground.
A metal drill accurately pierced through the middle of the cloth-clothed man's abdomen. There was not a single deviation.
Wu Zhu moved first, and his speed seemed to be slightly faster than his enemy's. So when the two of them collided, his left knee still had room to crouch. It was just a little faster, but it was a fatal little.
At this moment, he maintained this half-crouching position. The metal drill in his hand rose slightly, and like raising fire to burn the heavens, it pierced the opponent's abdomen.
…
…
From the garden behind the alley came the faint sounds of people. The sound was very soft, but it fell into the ears of Wu Zhu and the cloth-clothed man.
Like a saw cutting through wood, the two of them separated in silence. The weapons in their hands were slowly pulled out from each other's body. At this moment, a gurgling sound came from the cloth-clothed man's abdomen, as if something had been broken.
Even with such a heavy injury, the cloth-clothed man's face remained expressionless, as if he did not feel the slightest pain. He only stared at the wound in his abdomen like a baby, as if wondering why he was a little slower than Wu Zhu.
Wu Zhu had defeated his enemy with one move, but he was also heavily injured. However, he was still as expressionless as his opponent. Only the corner of his lips, which was not covered by the black cloth, had a more worldly air of alienation.
He knew that his opponent could no longer survive in this world. And the reason he was able to be a little faster than his opponent was because he had used Fan Xian's past to lure his opponent here. So he had made more preparations. He did not wear shoes, nor did he tie up his hair.
Do not be tainted by the world of mortals. The words of the temple did have some truth.
— — —
The night snow began to fall again. A few figures suddenly leaped over the garden wall and landed noiselessly in the alleyway. As soon as they landed, they pulled out the long knives on their backs and formed into a killing formation, looking around cautiously.
The newcomers were the Tiger Guards responsible for Fan Xian's safety.
After confirming that it was safe, Gao Da sheathed his knife and walked to the noodle stall through the sparse snowflakes. Looking at the pot of noodle soup on top of the broken stove and the sinister and terrifying head in the soup, he furrowed his brows.
Immediately after, his gaze fell on the place where the head and body had been cut off. He only glanced at the wound, and a glimmer of coldness and fear involuntarily appeared in his eyes. What a fast knife!
Gao Da suddenly felt an icy coldness at his neck, as if snowflakes had burrowed into his clothes. He knew that the battle that had happened here earlier was not something someone like him could rashly interfere with. Although he had not seen it with his own eyes, he could guess what kind of miraculous realm the two people fighting had.
The snow gradually grew heavier and gradually grew colder. The still warm noodle soup and blood also chilled the hearts of everyone in the alley. The noodle stall paused miserably at the mouth of the alley. The owner was already dead, the stove was already cold, and the blood was already dry. No one in this world had ever seen that in this snowy night alley, there had once been two nameless aces, not ranked among the Grandmasters, but with the strength of a Grandmaster, who had fought here.
The Overwatch Council official on night duty was dozing off. The building in the snowy night appeared even colder and more solemn. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past and startled him awake. He slapped his face in shock and ordered himself to wake up.
There were usually many officials on duty in the courtyard at night. Furthermore, Director Chen had not returned to Chen Garden recently because of Commissioner Fan's matter. Instead, he sat directly in the courtyard and suppressed everything. If the Director knew that he had fallen asleep earlier, there would be no good consequences.
At this time, Chen Pingping was half leaning on the wheelchair, dozing off. The old man's health had not been very good these past few years. Even though the stove in the room was extremely hot, he still subconsciously used his skinny hands to pull the wool blanket on his knees and cover his chest.
The door opened and was closed again.
Chen Pingping woke up and slowly blinked his somewhat muddy and powerless eyes. Looking at the black cloth in front of him, he quietly said, "Why are you here?"
Only then did he notice the terrifying wound on the left side of Wu Zhu's chest. His snow-white eyebrows immediately rose. Although he was not angry, he was very cautious. He asked, "What happened?"
Who could injure Wu Zhu? Then it could only be one of the Great Grandmasters who had acted. No matter how arrogant Chen Pingping was, in the current troublesome situation in Jingdou, it was difficult for him to accept the news that the enemy had suddenly gained the help of a Great Grandmaster.
Wu Zhu did not answer his question. He only directly said three sentences.
"Have the Shadow return."
"The person who injured me knows that I am in the south."
"If Fan Xian dies, the Qing Kingdom will fall."
Wu Zhu knew that the old cripple in front of him had enough intelligence to understand these three sentences. The terrifying injury he had received made it impossible for him to hold out much longer. After he finished speaking, he quickly and quietly left the Overwatch Council.
…
…
Chen Pingping sat in his wheelchair and sank into a long silence. In the fireplace not far from him, the red firelight danced like a fairy, reflecting red on his pale and haggard face.
Although Wu Zhu's three sentences were simple, they revealed very important information.
The first sentence was to have the Shadow return, indicating that his injury was very serious and that he could not stay by Fan Xian's side to protect him. He wanted Chen Pingping to fulfill his promise ahead of time and summon the Shadow back to protect Fan Xian's safety.
However, the person who had the power to injure Wu Zhu should already be dead. Otherwise, given Wu Zhu's personality, for the sake of Fan Xian's life, no matter how serious his injury was, he would not leave Jingdou.
Who could injure Wu Zhu? It could not be one of the Great Grandmasters, otherwise Wu Zhu would not purposely hide the other person's identity. Chen Pingping's heart trembled slightly. He vaguely guessed something. This conjecture had existed many years ago, but it had never been confirmed.
On the night Wu Zhu carried Fan Xian out of Jingdou, the two of them had thought about how to help Fan Xian escape from that unknown danger. But … how did the Temple know that Wu Zhu was in the south? Chen Pingping furrowed his brows and began to sort through everything.
During the two years that Fan Xian had been in the capital, Chen Pingping had asked more than once about Wu Zhu's whereabouts. Fan Xian had always carefully told a lie, saying that Wu Zhu was in the south looking for Ye Liuyun to play. Other than Chen Pingping, the only person who knew of this false information was the Emperor, whom Chen Pingping had once told. (See Volume Two, Chapter 62.)
Wu Zhu's second sentence was to remind Chen Pingping of this point. Looking at it this way, the threat in the third sentence was something that should be expected.
"Your Majesty." The wrinkles at the corner of Chen Pingping's eyes twitched slightly. He sighed softly. "You really do surprise me. I admire you."
In just a moment, he had already figured out the Emperor's true thoughts. Although he did not know how the Emperor could form a connection with the illusory Temple, he was very sure of one thing: the great Emperor really did want Wu Zhu to disappear.
For an Emperor, perhaps it was very difficult for him to accept that there was a Great Grandmaster by his side.
If a Great Grandmaster went crazy, he would have enough power to shake the rule of the court. This was something that anyone could think of. Even if it was impossible for him to kill his way into the Royal Palace alone and slaughter the entire royal family, he could travel to the ends of the world with a single sword and kill off all the provincial officials in the roads without having to worry about being surrounded by the army.
He could also hide in Jingdou for 10 years. Once he drew his sword, he would scare the Emperor so much that he would never leave the Palace and his edict could not leave the city. Under such circumstances, no one dared to be an official, the Emperor did not dare show his face, and other than falling apart, what else could the court do?
…
…
That was why Ku He was able to intimidate all the nobles and officials in the North who wanted to rebel.
That was why Sigu Jian could protect Dongyi with a single sword for so many years and allow the power of his sword to spread out and support the small vassal states caught between the two large countries.
As long as the seemingly undisciplined but actually intelligent Ye Liuyun continued his endless journey to the ends of the world, the Qing Kingdom would treat the Ye family generously. Even if an Emperor wanted to change the defenses of Jingdou, he would be forced to use such a shameful and sinister move as arson. Of course, Ye Liuyun himself knew the taboo of the royal family. After all these years, he had never returned to Jingdou.
If war broke out, the Emperor could use the Ye family to threaten Ye Liuyun. He could use the lives of tens of thousands of Northern Qi people to persuade Ku He. He could use the survival of Dongyi to remind Sigu Jian. The two sides could reach some kind of balanced agreement.
Wu Zhu was different from these three Great Grandmasters. He did not have a large family to burden him. He did not have any country or people that he needed to protect. Everything he did was for Fan Xian alone. Thus, he had more freedom and could not be threatened by the Emperor or used by each other. The two sides did not even have room to bargain.
If something happened to Fan Xian, once Wu Zhu went crazy, the world would go crazy with him.
Thus, as long as Wu Zhu was there, the Emperor had to cherish Fan Xian. Just like in the past few years, he had to play the role of a guilty and helpless father, an Emperor with great ambition but a belly full of sorrow.
Perhaps the Emperor admired Fan Xian as a son from the depths of his heart, but in the end, he was still an Emperor. He could not allow Fan Xian to have such a loyal and devoted Great Grandmaster as a servant. Even if he had not used the people from the Temple to come this time, there would come a day when the Emperor would find a way to get rid of Wu Zhu.
Of course, Chen Pingping knew that this was only one reason. As for the other reason, it was probably the faint fear in the Emperor's heart.
The Temple never interfered in worldly affairs. No one had ever truly seen the people from the Temple. The people from the Temple did not appear in the world once in hundreds of years. If they could have Wu Zhu die with the people from the Temple and forever hide Fan Xian's connection to the Ye family, burying everything in the past in a pile of old papers, for the Emperor, this was perhaps the most beautiful ending.
However, the Emperor had not thought that Fan Xian's past as a descendant of the Ye family would be exposed so quickly. His own son had become the Temple's primary target. He wanted to use the Temple as a knife to kill Wu Zhu. Instead, Wu Zhu had used Fan Xian's past to successfully lure and kill the visitor from the Temple and protect Fan Xian's life.
Chen Pingping did not know what Wu Zhu had done, but he only thought with a glimmer of sorrow that the Emperor clearly knew that someone from the Temple had come to the world. After Fan Xian's past was exposed, he had never warned him or Fan Xian. Could it be that, for anyone other than himself, the Emperor would only give faint sorrow and sympathy?
The old man smiled coldly and pushed the wheelchair in front of the fireplace. He greedily extended his hand closer. As he warmed himself, he yawned and mumbled in an unclear voice, "You really know how to enjoy yourself. You actually made a fireplace. You are excellent in everything. It is just that you are a bit muddle-headed in this matter. Girl … "
…
…
At dawn, the remote and quiet place in Jingdou called "Three Li Wai" was dark. One could faintly make out the shadow of a circular building. It was made entirely of black wood. It was a temple. Snowflakes fell one after another, causing the temple to be covered with a layer of otherworldly aura.
This was the Temple of Qing. It was rumored that the only place in the Kingdom of Qing that could communicate with the illusory Temple of the Temple of Qing, the temple where the royal family worshipped heaven.
The temple door opened with a creak. The Great Priest of the Temple of Qing, who had not appeared in Jingdou for a long time, walked out. Compared to Ku He of the Temple of Qi, this Ascetic monk, who was unknown, had a shocked expression on his face. Silently and sorrowfully, he picked up the body from the snow and staggered into the temple. The body was wearing a common cloth garment.
The cloth-clothed man did not answer his question. He said directly, "We cannot leave any traces." Wu Zhu said, "She has already left too many traces. Go back to the Temple. I won't kill you. " When I wrote this, I almost had Wu Zhu say, "Anyone who walks by must leave a trace." Then I immediately came to my senses. I was stunned and speechless. Only now did I realize that I really was a very sour person. This was a very scary thing.
Today's chapter was very tiring. The quality was better than the previous chapters. From the next chapter onwards, it will be much easier. The consequences of yesterday's vote solicitation were shocking. Suddenly, it went up. I … don't know what to say. I can only sincerely thank everyone.
Then I thought of the big mistake I made with Purple Eye in the book review section. I am so sorry. I wish the mother and child safe. I wish sister Kofi a happy pregnancy. Don't crawl with laughter. I wish everyone an easy life.)
(To be continued. If you want to know what happens next, please go to WWW. CMFU. com. There are more chapters. Support the author. Support the original reading!)
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