Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 436 - 106 Who am I? (2/2)

The room was originally a main hall of a Taoist temple.

Hong Feibai knelt on the ground, looking at the girl in the coffin. Her black hair spread out, partially covering the grotesque wound. The blood on her face had been wiped clean by an elder, so now if one ignored the bloodstains on her body, she merely appeared to be sleeping.

Yes, just sleeping.

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It was like the past when they practiced martial arts in the mountains, like when she watched him practice his swordplay, became tired from watching, wearied from waiting, then simply sat down at the base of an old tree on a limestone rock.

She would close her eyes in the warm spring breeze, waiting for him to finish his swordplay, waiting for the sunlight to dim.

And waiting for him to carry her back down to the sect’s gate.

Waiting for the impatient scolding from Master and the laughter of Master’s wife, waiting for the meals that seemed always to be just freshly made…

She would wait no more.

Hong Feibai clenched his teeth, his eyes wide open, bloodshot with intensity.

He did not cry; he did not want to cry the last time he saw his junior sister.

"That would be too shameful, wouldn’t it…"

His hand gently swept over the girl’s cold forehead.

The elder, inside the inner room, sighed, stood up, and slowly walked out of that narrow room akin to a coffin board, gazing at the youth kneeling in front of the coffin, his body trembling slightly, yet he stopped in his tracks; he had intended to comfort the young man, but at that moment, felt it unnecessary.

This was their story; being an outsider, an old fool, what could he possibly say?

In this story, he was merely a passerby.

The old man mocked himself with a laugh, shook his head, and turned back to the inner chamber.

He left the last of time to Hong Feibai.

Because the girl’s death involved a criminal case, a secretly crafted miracle medicine had been sprinkled on the body, allowing the corpse to remain unchanged for many days. However, because of this medicine, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after, the girl’s corpse would rapidly decompose.

Thus, the medicine had a very pleasant name.

The old man lay in bed.

Beauty to Bones.

...............

The heart of the warrior in black attire and mask trembled; he inhaled deeply, forcefully stabilizing his emotions, his eyes turning cold as he stared at Wang Anfeng, with a hoarse voice, he said:

"Do you wish to die?"

His hand gripped the sword.

His body straightened, his eyes narrowed, his presence heavy, he spoke indifferently:

"Dare to block my path."

Wang Anfeng looked at the familiar mask and said:

"My? I should ask for your esteemed name."

The man slightly lifted his chin and replied lightly:

"I am Yi Nanping…"

His heart had stabilized because, during the previous pursuit, Wang Anfeng ’had not caught up to him’; in a moment of panic, he still stubbornly believed Wang Anfeng’s qinggong was inferior to his own, attributing the current standoff to mere luck.

If he were to use his qinggong, he could surely escape, so his words bore much calm confidence.

"Yi Nanping?"

Even with Wang Anfeng’s temperament, he was almost driven to laughter by anger at this moment, feeling as if a fire was burning inside him, unwilling to entangle further with this man, his body’s Light and Shadow Division created several afterimages in front of the opponent in an instant, without drawing his sword, but wielding the wooden sword in its scabbard, he struck fiercely.

The scabbard of this wooden sword was specifically designed to seal the Divine Weapon Spirit Rhythm within the blade to prevent it from leaking, extremely heavy.

Paired with Wang Anfeng’s vigorous qi, it was completely comparable to a conventional heavy weapon; at the first moment of contact, it scattered the martial artist’s protective vigorous qi, using subtle energy, he flung the Bi’an mask away, without causing any harm, revealing the man’s face.

The second strike fiercely smashed into the man’s mouth, knocking out all his steel teeth cleanly.

Under the instruction of some experienced Jianghu veterans at Shaolin Temple, his ruthlessness was no less than that of seasoned wanderers of Jianghu.

First, prevent the opponent from being able to commit suicide.

Then, find a way to disable his ability to move, and slowly deal with him.

Finally, if all else fails, throw him into Shaolin Temple, to entertain the Master.

Wang Anfeng ignored the man’s last sentence.

Killing doesn’t need to go beyond necessity; after all, he always practiced Zen and martial arts - he still retained some compassion.

’Yi Nanping’ almost immediately recovered, realizing he had encountered a true master.

As a Seventh Rank Martial Artist, he was not completely powerless to resist; he urgently gathered his inner strength, his vigorous qi surged like an angry dragon, his palm reached for the sword hilt to draw it.

But in that instant, Wang Anfeng seemed to have foreseen it, his right hand casually raised, touching the opponent’s palm on the sword hilt just as his qi was gathering to its limit, about to burst.

His eyes slightly widened, he shouted sternly.

As if a strong man were splitting mountains, he aggressively pushed the sword hilt back down with unreasonable force. At that moment, even the inner strength gathered at the tip of the longsword was shattered by the brute force.

The uncontrolled vigorous qi inside the sword scabbard burst open, and the scabbard, fragmented under the tremendous force, was no less lethal than a sharp weapon, ripping many wounds into Yi Nanping’s body.

At the same time, Wang Anfeng lifted the sword hilt in his hand and smashed it down heavily onto the opponent’s shoulder, as if wielding a heavy hammer along with the scabbard.

The empowerment from the Buddha’s Strength Mountain Moving Sutra had not yet dissipated at this moment. This strike was as powerful as those Jianghu experts who specialized in external cultivation and had formidable force; the latter was completely unprepared and was struck to the ground, kneeling forcibly, with Thunder Vigor entering his body, causing half of his body to go numb, unable to mobilize his inner strength.

Meanwhile, Yi Nanping felt a painful sensation all over his body, and in the next moment, his originally nimble and powerful body became like a Mo Family mechanical puppet, unable to move at all.

Wang Anfeng, holding the ’trophy’ whose major acupoints got instantly sealed, thought for a moment and then entered the dilapidated Taoist temple behind him, casually throwing the opponent onto a meditation cushion. He squatted down, looking at the other’s face showing a frightened expression, and said:

"Speak, your identity..."

The man’s expression flickered, and he said hoarsely:

"I told you already, I am Yi Nanping."

Wang Anfeng slightly frowned and asked many questions, but the latter, who had been very cautious earlier, now stubbornly refused to yield any useful information, insisting that he was Yi Nanping, insisting he just happened to pass by.

For such obstinate refusal, verbal skills were almost useless. Since the acupoints around his body had already been sealed and using the legitimate techniques of Medicine King Valley, the opponent’s inner strength was still below his own. Forcing open the acupoints would take several hours, so Wang Anfeng simply searched him thoroughly.

Because Hong Luoyu occasionally taught Wang Anfeng some skills of the Divine Thieves Sect when Master Ying was not around and while Ci was meditating, the man could only watch helplessly as the young man in front of him easily took out every meticulously hidden item, leaving not a single copper coin behind.

Pitiful heavens, this copper coin he didn’t even know when he had left behind.

But the young man in front of him casually patted his own body, and the copper coin rolled out as if it had seen its parents.

His pupils dilated as he looked at the young man in front of him, at the excessively skilled technique, his mind bewildered, almost believing he had encountered an ancestor of thieves.

A very young thief, dressed in white.

A very young, ruthless, sword-wielding thief.

A thief whose martial arts skills were immeasurably high.

When Wang Anfeng pulled a letter from a hidden pocket on his body, Yi Nanping’s expression suddenly stiffened.

Seeing the subtle change in Yi Nanping’s expression, Wang Anfeng naturally knew the critical importance of this item. He unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning over the flamboyant script, and read the two lines it contained:

’Yi Nanping once spoiled our affairs in Fufeng County with this identity.’

’It would be best to force him out, but even if we can’t, we must ruin his reputation.’

The young man’s eyes widened slightly.

Claiming a sect, yet once spoiled by ’Yi Nanping’ in Fufeng County... a Jianghu organization...

He knew several forces in Jianghu, but after counting, there was only one.

White Tiger Hall...

Wang Anfeng murmured inwardly, the words on this letter almost like a streak of fire, falling into the lake of his heart.

Flames rose.

The intent to kill boiled in his heart, nearly uncontrollable, but at this moment, he remained extremely rational. Shaolin martial arts produce a unity of Chan and martial skills, Golden Bell Shield is the Vajra Buddha Principle, and Prajna Palm is the Prajna Heart Sutra. Practicing martial arts is contemplating Zen; over the years, Wang Anfeng’s state of mind had long been different from before.

Letting out a breath of turbid air slowly, Wang Anfeng set down the letter in his hand, looking at the man across from him whose complexion turned even paler.

He knew little of Great Qin’s rules, only that the latter, being part of Jianghu and since the deceased was a disciple of Heavenly Sword Sect, this matter belonged to the affairs of Jianghu, and the Ministry of Punishment could not intervene.

And this was not his first encounter with people from White Tiger Hall; he knew that he could hardly extract anything useful from these people’s mouths.

He could go back and ask Hong Feibai about related matters; from his appearance, he definitely knew something, and then he could trace back the tracks of White Tiger Hall from there, and thereby judge their purpose.

His fingers squeezing the letter exerted a slight force, and with the circulation of his inner strength, the letter silently turned into dust.

The man gritted his teeth and still stubbornly said:

"I got this letter from that woman."

"That’s why I had to kill him."

Wang Anfeng looked at the man forcibly speaking in front of him, spread his fingers, allowing the dust from the destroyed letter to pour down. He looked at the man, sighed softly, and said:

"You say you are Yi Nanping?"

"Then, who am I?"

The White Tiger Hall martial artist was momentarily stunned before he seemed to realize something, his pupils subconsciously widened, looking towards the young man. The latter, who had initially been looking downward, now lifted his head, a black imposing mask already on his face, resembling the form of Bi’an.

The young man’s dark eyes pierced through the void in Bi’an’s eyes, quietly observing him.

In Wang Anfeng’s hand appeared a green bamboo sword.

You are Yi Nanping?

Then, who am I…

The man’s eyes filled with horror, considering what the three characters ’Yi Nanping’ signified, his complexion growing paler still. He was about to shout out, but suddenly, a brilliantly dazzling stream of light flashed before his eyes, followed by a pain in his throat, and he seemed to hear a faint sound of wind.

Darkness descended before his eyes.

PS; Here is the second update for today…