The words she was about to say were stuck in her throat.
She looked up at Yan Jingchen, but he did not look at her. His eyes were fixed on the half-broken flower in front of him. He spoke quickly.
"Fuyao, given your situation, my family will not allow me … to be with you. The Pei Family is part of the royal family. Even my family's status is a notch lower than theirs. This marriage proposal was originally hopeless, but I heard that Ah Yuan personally agreed to it. Since the Pei Family has already agreed, there is no reason for them to break off the engagement. Our Yan Family cannot afford to offend the Pei Family …"
Meng Fuyao suddenly interrupted his incessant rambling.
"Don't talk about your Yan Family and your Yan Family. Talk about yourself."
"I …" Yan Jingchen paused. His brows were covered with a layer of melancholy. After a long while, he said, "Fuyao, my wife will also have a high status in the Five Continents in the future. Looks, talent, martial arts, and status are all indispensable. Especially not if her aptitude is too poor. Otherwise, my family will be humiliated …"
"Talk about yourself!"
Yan Jingchen's arrogance and anger were ignited by Meng Fuyao's rebuke. He shouted, "I! I've had enough of your disappointing behavior! I've had enough of being mocked because of you! "
Meng Fuyao took a step back and stared blankly at Yan Jingchen, who looked a little ferocious because of his outburst.
Dusk came layer by layer, and the sky was covered in a dark gray color. The emerald green of the leaves looked dirty and unclean, and it was suffocating. Floating in the gray background was a gentle young man with twisted eyebrows. He looked unfamiliar and frail.
All that was left in the world was the sound of clothes fluttering in the wind.
After a long while, Meng Fuyao suddenly smiled.
Her smile was like a flower blooming in the dark silence. It was a little sad, but it was more of a resolute and bright beauty.
"Okay, okay." She brushed her sleeves at Yan Jingchen, as though she was brushing away the dust on her sleeves along with Yan Jingchen. "I understand. You can't stand the fact that your wife is an idiot with no talent in martial arts. You can't stand the fact that you'll be ridiculed in front of others or behind your back when you bring such an idiot along to the state banquet. You can't stand the fact that your perfect life as a young master will be ruined by a mismatched wife … Yan Jingchen, believe me, Pei Yuan will be a perfect wife. You'll be like a lady with a poodle. You'll be worth a hundred times more wherever you go and you'll bring out the best in each other."
She smiled, but there was no smile in her eyes. Her voice was deep and cold, like a blade that was about to be unsheathed.
"Congratulations, you've found your poodle."
After saying that, she turned around and left without looking at Yan Jingchen.
"Fu Yao!" Yan Jingchen suddenly rushed forward and reached out to grab her sleeve. His voice was filled with helplessness and bitterness as he said in a low voice, "Fuyao … Actually, I like you …"
"Save your feelings for your poodle!" She smiled sinisterly and lifted her finger. A cold light suddenly appeared between her fingers, and as she lifted her finger, a stream of light flashed like lightning, and struck the sleeve that was being held by her.
Before the light of the knife arrived, the cold air was already pressing. Yan Jingchen initially thought that Meng Fuyao would not be so ruthless, so he held on to the sleeve tightly. However, Meng Fuyao did not even stop. Instead, she flipped her hand and slashed at his fingers.
Yan Jingchen was so shocked that he immediately withdrew his hand, but he was still a step too late. A neat red mark appeared on his fingers. At first, it was the color of his skin, but after a while, fresh blood seeped out and silently dripped onto the dark ground.
"You …"
"I!" Meng Fuyao shook her head without turning back. Her back was straight, and her silhouette was unbreakable in the darkening night. "I want you to remember that there are some mistakes, just like the wound you just had. Nothing was discovered at first, but after a while, you will bleed from the pain."
With her back facing Yan Jingchen, she smiled gently. Her smile was as cold as the rising moon.
"Believe me, Yan Jingchen, you will feel pain sooner or later."
*****
The moonlight was cold that night.
Meng Fuyao sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the thin moon in a daze. She felt that this was the coldest moon in her entire life, surrounded by a green halo that sent chills down her spine.
The twinkling of the starlight was strange and erratic, like the fluctuating human heart.
She vaguely remembered the day when she first met him. In the midst of the storm, she kowtowed heavily in the mud, begging Lin Xuanyuan to take her as her master. She remembered the warm smile of the modest young man beside Lin Xuanyuan in the storm. She remembered the hand that the young man stretched out to her in the rain, slender and clean, warm as spring.
"Fuyao, I actually like you."
"Fuyao, in the Five Continents Continent, you will be looked down upon for the rest of your life without strength."
"Fuyao, you have to work harder. If you continue like this … what will you do in the future?"
"Fuyao, you are good at everything. It's a pity that … your talent is too poor."
'Heh … I should have realized it long ago, but I was immersed in the warmth of that young man's hand and did not realize it.'
'Fortunately … I never really wanted to be your poodle.'
She laughed mockingly and waved her hand vigorously like a mosquito. She chased away those memories that she did not want to recall and closed her eyes to cultivate.
Not long after, steam rose from the top of her head, and her body emitted a faint green light. The light rose slowly and stopped at her chest.
The "Cleaving Nine Heavens" technique was the "secret" of her real master, the dead old Taoist.
Back then, she had dug her own grave so hard that she had pierced through herself. After that, she had mysteriously lost her memories of the world before she was five years old. From the age of five, she had been tormented by the dead old Taoist for ten years. During those ten years, she had only reached the peak of the third level of the "Cleaving Nine Heavens" technique, which was divided into nine levels. At this time, she was ascending her true Qi and condensing it into a jade color, focusing on all feminine techniques.
Her cultivation went through a long night and a sunny morning. By the time she opened her eyes, it was already afternoon.
The moment she opened her eyes, she frowned and sighed. It had been half a year since she reached the peak of the third level, but she had yet to break through. If she were to remain stagnant, how would she participate in the True Martial Arts Meet? How would she be able to make others feel pain sooner or later?
That was not all. More importantly, she was afraid that the realization of that wish in her heart would take an even longer time.
She bit her lip, stood up, and strode down the mountain. Judging by the time, Yan Jingchen should have left by now.
'It's good that he's gone.'
She did not want to stay there for a moment longer. She was ready to pack her things and leave immediately.
Halfway down the mountain, after passing through a secluded col, there was a magnificent Profound Yuan Villa that was built against the mountain, with its flying eaves and arches.
Before she could get close, she heard a commotion. Someone was screaming, "The Xuanyuan Sword Sect is known as one of the three major sword sects in the Taiyuan Dynasty. How come they don't have a single decent disciple?"
What followed was the sound of her master's dry cough, followed by the indignant retorts of her fellow disciples, and the clear sound of swords being unsheathed. It was extraordinarily lively. Meng Fuyao frowned.
She knew that martial arts were strong in the Five Continents and Seven Nations, and that sects often challenged each other. It was most likely someone who had come to find trouble.
She took out a disguise and hurriedly applied a wretched makeup on herself. All this while, she had only shown her face to Yan Jingchen.
She had to pass through the training field to return to her room after entering the villa. The training field of the Xuanyuan Sword Sect was one of the top-notch large-scale training fields in the Taiyuan Dynasty. It occupied a vast area and was majestic in style. Normally, it would not be used. Meng Fuyao quietly entered the field from the entrance, thinking that she would be able to leave without a hitch. Out of the corner of her eye, she was taken aback.
Today, the training field was filled with hundreds of people dressed in different colors, each occupying a corner of the field. It seemed that several sects had come to challenge the Xuanyuan Sword Sect at the same time.
Among the crowd, Meng Fuyao even spotted a few men who were full of vigor and energy. Their gazes were solemn and dignified.
All the disciples of the Xuanyuan Sword Sect, except for Yan Jingchen, were gathered in a circle. Their expressions were cautious and worried. Some of their fellow disciples seemed to be injured, holding onto their swords and spitting out blood.
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