Chapter 87: Seeing Yan Wushi Again

THE PERSON SHEN QIAO saw was not just anyone, but the Fajing Sect Leader Guang Lingsan.

In the past, Riyue Sect had split into three, and Fajing Sect moved their operations to the distant lands of Tuyuhun. But as the current world was in turmoil, Guang Lingsan had interfered with the jianghu of the Central Plains several times—even participating in the ambush on Yan Wushi in order to secure a share of the spoils. That day, the moment the news of Yan Wushi’s death began to spread, Fajing Sect’s authority immediately began to expand eastward. They quickly replaced the influence Huanyue Sect held in Zhou near the borders of Tuyuhun, solidifying their own power at the same time.

Speaking truthfully, Shen Qiao didn’t have too many dealings with this Fajing Sect Leader, but as he was a fairly special man, being the head of a sect, it was hard not to notice him. However, as Guang Lingsan rarely made any public appearances in the jianghu, few people around him recognized who he was. The man simply drifted past the crowd beneath the colonnades, dressed in his wide-sleeved robes, just like an utterly ordinary guest taking a stroll.

Shen Qiao instructed Yuwen Song to sit still and not move, then rose from his seat, walking in the direction where Guang Lingsan had vanished.

Though Shen Qiao looked like he was idly strolling, he was actually crossing vast distances as if they were mere inches, like he was traipsing on clouds—elegant and otherworldly, leaving behind nary a trace. The Huang residence maid passing by him had the feeling someone was there, but by the time she turned her head, Shen Qiao had completely left her field of vision.

Only someone who had trained “A Rainbow Stretches Across the Heavens” to transcendent perfection could manifest Xuandu Mountain’s qinggong to such an amazing level.

Though Guang Lingsan also looked like he was on a carefree stroll, he too was walking at a very swift pace. Shen Qiao turned a corner and arrived at a fork that split into three: one led toward the main courtyard, another to a scenic cobblestone path that was part of the garden, and the last to a pond in the backyard. The Huang residence covered a good deal of land in Runan, and the area ahead was surrounded by rockwork, which blocked the view. Guang Lingsan had already disappeared from sight, making it hard to determine which path he’d taken right away.

Shen Qiao stood in place and pondered for a moment. Then he gave up on taking the middle path, which held the highest chance of finding Guang Lingsan, and instead picked the last one.

The Huangs were a powerful local family. This garden was attached to a building next door, originally where the host would serve guests. Normally, people were free to go anywhere they wished, but as the host might still have live-in guests to serve, most people wouldn’t charge into the backyard.

As Shen Qiao walked toward the pond, keeping his footsteps and breathing as quiet as possible, he suddenly heard the faint murmurs of conversation from afar. One of the voices caused his heart to sink heavily, as if he’d received a harsh blow. Even his breathing became harried and disordered for a moment.

It was only for a moment—an average martial artist wouldn’t have detected such subtle changes, but that didn’t hold for experts who’d climbed past a certain level. Upon entering any environment, they’d be able to sense the movement of qi within their surroundings, to the point that they could even affect it by mobilizing their own true qi. The slightest disturbance was enough for them to immediately realize that something was off.

A leaf shot toward Shen Qiao, its caster unknown. It sliced through the air with incredible speed, but without a sound. Any martial artist who was even a little mediocre wouldn’t have been able to react before it reached them. But fortunately, it seemed like the attacker hadn’t wanted to kill anyone while at the Huang residence—it only swept past Shen Qiao’s hair, obviously meant as a warning.

If the target had been a manor servant or even an average practitioner, they’d involuntarily gasp in shock and dodge backward. Or perhaps they’d rush to flee, knowing that their skills were inferior. In any case, they’d definitely make some noise.

Guang Lingsan had assessed that this was but a trifling Huang family birthday banquet—thus the practitioners who’d arrived were also mediocre, without any standout characters. However, not even the slightest whisper followed this leaf of his, as if it were a stone sinking silently into the ocean. That was strange.

He couldn’t help but jolt, wondering if there was someone incredible here after all, a crouching tiger or hidden dragon. To think that a grandmaster-level expert unknown to him would appear here…

“Which venerable gentleman has graced this place, who somehow doesn’t know to ‘hear no evil, see no evil?’ It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

Guang Lingsan’s voice was bright and clear as he slowly stepped out. Now that the rockery was no longer blocking his line of sight, the man behind it also came into view.

He’d barely finished speaking when a look of surprise crossed his face. Although it lasted only an instant, it was enough.

“So, it was Daoist Master Shen.” They’d parted on unpleasant terms last time, but now that they’d met each other again, Guang Lingsan wore a smile as before, as if it had never happened.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his temples peppered with white. His countenance shone like jade, and there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips, his imperiousness apparent. Just like when they’d first met.

Even at Yan Wushi’s most downtrodden, Shen Qiao had never seen even the slightest hint of mental collapse from him. His self-confidence and conceit were obvious, and he’d always been this way.

Since Yan Wushi had lured away Sang Jingxing when they’d parted at the broken-down temple and Shen Qiao had headed to Chang’an alone, over four months had passed, and much had happened.

Four months was neither particularly long nor particularly short. For a martial artist, a single day-night cycle could be enough for a breakthrough. However, if they couldn’t make any progress, then even years and decades would be nothing to them.

Yan Wushi had always been a martial arts genius. Having obtained three volumes of the Zhuyang Strategy, including the one related to the demonic discipline, he’d told Shen Qiao before that he already knew how to repair the flaw in his demonic core. It wasn’t inconceivable for him to show up, four months later, as healthy and whole as he’d been in the beginning.

But a question remained: that night, his martial arts had yet to recover, so how exactly had he managed to escape danger at Sang Jingxing’s hands?

And Guang Lingsan was one of the five martial experts who’d ambushed him—he’d even played a crucial role—one could say that he’d been directly responsible for aggravating Yan Wushi’s flaw and was the ringleader who’d ultimately caused his defeat. So why was Yan Wushi with him?

Furthermore, the two of them seemed to be chatting; they were smiling, painting a rather harmonious picture, even. It didn’t seem at all like they could draw their swords on each other with one wrong word.

Shen Qiao’s heart was heavy with doubts. For a moment, he wasn’t sure which he should do first: ask Yan Wushi if he’d fully recovered or deal with Guang Lingsan.

Seeing his reaction, Guang Lingsan smiled. “Looks like Daoist Master Shen is confused that I’ve shown up here at this time?”

Shen Qiao pulled himself together. The moment Yan Wushi had appeared, his mind had all but fallen into chaos, shaking his Daoist core. So he took this moment in the conversation to settle his emotions, then said, “The Huang family’s banquet is open to everyone, so it’s natural that Sect Leader Guang has come as well. This humble Daoist isn’t the host—of course he has no right to intervene. But he wishes to know why Sect Leader Yan is also here.”

Guang Lingsan looked at Yan Wushi, then said with a smile, “Shouldn’t you give Daoist Master Shen an explanation, Sect Leader Yan?”

However, Yan Wushi gave a slight sneer. “Who is this? Is he someone my venerable self must know?”

It was as if a basin of frigid water had been thrown over his head—Shen Qiao’s heart instantly became ice cold.

He scrutinized Yan Wushi carefully. Not only was his lack of recognition plain on Yan Wushi’s face, there wasn’t a hint of familiarity hidden in the depths of his gaze. Shen Qiao didn’t even see the sense of closeness expected of a reunion between old friends, let alone the joy of seeing someone after a long separation.

The man who’d smiled and sighed at the broken-down temple, calling him “Foolish A-Qiao” still seemed to stand before his eyes, and those words still seemed to linger in his ears.

Ever since they’d met at Banbu Peak, it was as though their fates were tightly bound by an invisible string.

If one said that Yan Wushi had saved Shen Qiao’s life in the beginning, then, afterward, Shen Qiao too had risked his life to protect Yan Wushi several times. He’d pulled him back from the brink of death, yet Yan Wushi only considered him a tool, treating Shen Qiao without the slightest hint of sentimentality. He’d even pushed him into the flames himself, nearly causing Shen Qiao to suffer a calamity of calamities. On careful analysis, Yan Wushi was the one who owed Shen Qiao more, but matters of the heart couldn’t be treated like transactions—they couldn’t be weighed and calculated so clearly. After repeated entanglements, past kindnesses and grudges had all blurred together, impossible to delineate.

That is, up until that moment in the broken-down temple, where Yan Wushi had placed him within the buddha statue, then drawn Sang Jingxing away by himself.

Then everything seemed to change.

But right now, the man he’d been unable to find had suddenly appeared before him, and he was even fraternizing with an enemy.

Exactly what had happened since then?

It shouldn’t have been like this.

It shouldn’t have been like this…

These words sounded several times in Shen Qiao’s heart, and he suddenly recalled when the other man had first awoken after his grave injuries and entered qi deviation. He felt even more certain in his judgment: Yan Wushi had probably yet to fully recover, and his personality had changed drastically again, causing him to lose his memories. Guang Lingsan had taken this chance to get close to him, and he must have said something to make Yan Wushi trust him.

But even when met with such an unexpected incident, Shen Qiao was able to quickly calm himself, then begin pondering the most appropriate strategy of response.

“Sect Leader Yan’s memory is quite terrible,” he said. “To think he’s even forgotten his own savior?”

“Savior?” Yan Wushi’s tone was full of mockery. “My venerable self would like to see what you’re made of, that you dare proclaim yourself my savior!”

As he spoke, his figure flitted forward, and he clawed at Shen Qiao with lightning speed.

A martial artist’s every movement, every word, would all reflect their prowess. Yan Wushi didn’t underestimate Shen Qiao—he put around six to seven-tenths of his full strength into this palm strike. Even if his opponent’s skill was comparable to his own, he’d still be forced to draw his sword and meet him accordingly.

But Shen Qiao was already prepared. He was unwilling to fight Yan Wushi in front of Guang Lingsan, much less fight him at someone else’s house. He instantly flew back several yards, then floated back around the rockery. His figure flitted about, feather-light and lovely, as if he were a piece of drifting duckweed. Seeing such a display of qinggong, not only was Yan Wushi a bit surprised, even Guang Lingsan couldn’t help but shout in praise.

“Very few in this world can match Daoist Master Shen’s qinggong, I believe! ‘A Rainbow Stretches Across the Heavens!’ Truly outstanding! Xuandu Mountain has indeed earned its reputation!”

“Sect Leader Guang is too kind.” Shen Qiao’s expression was cool. “This is the Huang residence, and this humble Daoist is only here as a guest. It wouldn’t be right to stir up trouble at someone else’s birthday celebration. If Sect Leader Yan wishes to fight, please set another time and place. This Daoist would be pleased to keep you company then.”

“That’s true,” said Guang Lingsan with a smile. “Though there’s no one here, it’d be far too unsightly to disturb the hosting family. Wushi, since Daoist Master Shen wishes to reminisce with you, why not set a new time?”

Shen Qiao’s eyes twitched.

Yan Wushi sneered. “My venerable self doesn’t even know him. Why should I meet with him to reminisce? If everyone used this excuse to come knocking, does that mean I’d have to keep each and every one of them company? While his qinggong is decent enough, his internal energy is completely average, supported only by a couple of sword techniques. He’d lose to me within a hundred blows. Why should my venerable self give this kind of opponent a second glance when a single one is enough to see through him completely?”

These words truly elicited a sense of déjà vu. Shen Qiao recalled what he’d said that day: “My venerable self doesn’t need friends. Only one kind of person is qualified to stand as my equal: an opponent.”

Shen Qiao realized that now, no matter how awful of a situation he found himself in, he too had learned the art of self-deprecation and mockery.

“If you don’t fight me, how can you know that I’m beneath you?” he asked Yan Wushi.

His desire to provoke Yan Wushi into a duel was all for the purpose of finding a chance to be alone with him, to warn him that Guang Lingsan was a foe, not a friend.

Unfortunately, Yan Wushi couldn’t be bothered to spare him another glance. He said to Guang Lingsan, “I was already growing impatient with staying here. You’re the one who insisted on coming to listen to music.”

Guang Lingsan was all smiles. He didn’t refute him. “Yes, it’s my fault.”

“Go listen by yourself,” said Yan Wushi. “Come find me after you’re done. You know where I’ll be.”

“All right,” said Guang Lingsan. “Then you can leave first; I won’t see you off.”

The two of them seemed familiar with each other, yet also like strangers. Shen Qiao, wholly unable to intervene, could only watch from the side, completely superfluous.