SS CH59

As Helian Yu’s voice fell, Chu Xiwei pushed Ye Fusheng back with a flip of his hand.

Behind them lay the very slope rigged with fire-mines. At this hair-raising juncture, there was absolutely no reason for both of them to be pinned down here.

Furthermore, a deep, ancient grievance clearly ran between Ye Fusheng and the man before them. Chu Xiwei knew Ye Fusheng’s condition inside out; he knew this absurdly loose rogue was merely holding up a fine veneer. The residual poison in his body was uncleared, suppressed entirely by Sun Minfeng’s acupuncture and medicine, making it an absolute taboo for him to recklessly exert his internal energy. Thus, all along the way, even when Chu Xiwei’s real temper had been provoked time and again, he had never laid a rough hand on him, always shielding him from the front for fear that a single slip-up would prevent him from lasting the promised three months.

With this in mind, Chu Xiwei prepared to make Ye Fusheng take a step ahead to intercept the person guarding the fire-mines. To his surprise, this push failed to budge the man. Instead, Ye Fusheng grabbed his wrist, used a clever counter-force to spin him backward, and simultaneously pressed a palm against his back. As the energy surged forward, Chu Xiwei felt his body lighten as if riding a clear breeze, instantly propelled six zhang away.

“You—”

The moment he opened his mouth, the cold, rain-laden wind rushed in, causing Chu Xiwei to choke. His expression turned exceedingly sour. Ye Fusheng turned his head back, saying softly, “A-Yao, I’ll wait for you to come back.”

Helian Yu’s martial arts were profoundly unfathomable; Chu Xiwei had already seen the disparity when they clashed last time. Ye Fusheng would never dare leave him behind to face him again. Rather than a hard confrontation, engaging him with lightness skill and footwork to stall for time was a far better option.

Ye Fusheng had planned meticulously, but Chu Xiwei ground his teeth in pure fury. Yet, he was long past the age of throwing reckless tantrums; he carried too many concerns and could not act willfully. He could only swallow this breath, angrily flicked his sleeve, and charged toward the slope without looking back.

Watching his silhouette disappear—clearly throwing a huff yet obediently leaving—the dark clouds shrouding Ye Fusheng’s heart suddenly scattered a little, and the corners of his mouth twitched up involuntarily.

“He is a decent man.” Helian Yu looked at the faint smile on Ye Fusheng’s face with keen interest. “No matter how miserable you are, he always manages to make you smile… Since you miss him so much, why don’t we have him come back?”

Before his voice even faded, his figure blurred. Like a spectral phantom, he vanished from sight, giving chase straight after Chu Xiwei. Yet, within a fraction of a second after stepping out, his vision flickered as a flash of snow-white, freezing light sliced through the wind and rain, sweeping toward his throat. Had Helian Yu not possessed flexible footwork, pulling back his momentum and leaning backward in the blink of an eye, this blade would have slashed his windpipe open.

The Jinghong Blade had been left at the Hundred Ghosts Sect, and the Duanshui Blade had been taken back by Sun Minfeng. Since this matter arose in an emergency, Chu Xiwei had no time to send someone to fetch them, so he unfastened his own dagger and tossed it to Ye Fusheng for self-defense.

This dagger was barely an inch longer than a palm, with a hooked pommel that allowed it to maneuver and spin nimbly between the fingers. It was crafted from an unknown material; save for its snow-white edge, its entire body was a matte, heavy black. The blood groove in the middle bore ancient, un-washable stains, testament to how many men’s blood it had thirstily drunk.

This item was supposedly gifted to an old acquaintance by the former Sect Leader, Shen Wuduan, in his early years. Sadly, while the old relic remained, the acquaintance had vanished without a trace, leaving no bones behind; only this dagger, which feared neither water nor fire, was recovered from the ruins and ash. From then on, it stayed constantly by Shen Wuduan’s side until it was passed down to Chu Xiwei. However, Chu Xiwei was accustomed to long blades, fists, and palms, so he had little interest in this tiny dagger; carrying it was more out of sentiment than utility. He had not expected that Ye Fusheng, having been steeped in the Shadow Guards for ten years, would find this weapon optimized for concealment quite handy.

“Palace Master Helian, we haven’t even finished catching up on old times, why are you in such a hurry to leave?”

With a flip of the dagger in his palm, Ye Fusheng pressed close, the blade forcing its way toward the center of the chest. It struck empty air, but he was not startled. Twisting his footwork, his body spun away to evade a counter-palm strike, seamlessly sweeping a horizontal slash back. It clashed directly with Helian Yu’s palm, emitting a piercing, grinding screech as it scraped past the iron finger-guards.

“Ten years of no see, you’ve improved far more than back then.”

Within two breaths, they had already exchanged six moves—three attacks and three defenses, completely airtight. Seeing Ye Fusheng slip away from beneath his hand like rootless duckweed, Helian Yu lightly pressed his own throat, seemingly still able to feel the sting of the slicing wind. An even more delighted laughter drifted from beneath the mask: “That you could have today… if Gu Qifang knew, she would surely be overjoyed. It’s just a pity she lacked the fortune to see it with her own eyes.”

“There is no need to use my master to provoke me. The debts of the past will have their day of reckoning. Today, before my breath gives out, I will not let you take a single step past this spot.”

Ye Fusheng slowly exhaled. His internal breath was already churning, and his unsuppressed internal energy caused a swelling ache in his meridians, though it also cleared his rage-clouded mind significantly.

Spinning the dagger into a brilliant flourish, Ye Fusheng stared with freezing eyes. “Want to leave? Give it a try!”

While the battle raged on that side, Chu Xiwei moved on the other like a gale. Though he wasn’t far from the slope, he wasn’t particularly close either. The areas injured a few days ago by the “Lingering Affection” and the “Asura Hand” had started to flare up due to the lack of proper treatment and days of continuous rushing. It felt as if countless insects and ants were gnawing at his wounds. Though the pain was bearable, it drained a vast amount of his energy. It was precisely for this reason that Ye Fusheng had not dared to let him stay.

Knitting his brows, he pushed his internal energy a bit higher. Just as he was about to land on a massive boulder, a sharp, piercing whistle suddenly echoed from the direction of the valley clearing. Chu Xiwei’s expression shifted instantly. Stamping his left foot hard against his right, he forcibly reversed his direction and flew backward through the air.

Almost in that exact instant, a deafening explosion boomed out from the middle of the slope! A ringing sound buzzed violently inside Chu Xiwei’s head as blood seeped from both his ears and nose. His form plummeted from mid-air. Miraculously, he managed to steady himself slightly right before hitting the ground, propping himself up with one hand in a half-kneeling position as he snapped his head up.

The center of the slope had blasted open. The already precarious boulders collapsed one after another, dragging an immense mass of mud and soil into a landslide. Like a ferocious beast, it swallowed the vegetation and rocks along its path, quickly assembling into an unstoppable, roaring torrent.

Though the place where Chu Xiwei landed was high, it was by no means safe. His brow furrowed tighter as he tracked the direction of the torrent, his pupils shrinking instantly—the path ran entirely down the slope with no turns or high mountains to block it. It would only cause the rolling torrent to grow more monumental, eventually plunging over the cliff and completely flooding the valley clearing!

Within a split second, a choice loomed before him—should he go back to retrieve Ye Fusheng, or go save Qin Lanchang and the other two?

Yet, the dilemmas of the world often afford no time for hesitation.

Chu Xiwei looked back once toward the direction he had left. His hands clenched tightly into fists until his nails dug into his flesh. The blood and qi in his chest were on the verge of exploding, but he forcibly suppressed it. Brutally wiping away the blood from his face, he tapped his toes against the ground and dashed frantically toward the direction of the roaring mudslide.

His lightness skill had been taught by Ye Fusheng, and he had practiced it without a single day of rest for ten years. Though it lacked the phantom-like grace of Ye Fusheng’s Jinghong Liangying, it was still as swift as wind over duckweed, graceful and lightning-fast. At this moment, the true qi within his body was forced to its absolute limit by his own will, causing a throbbing pain in his meridians. Yet, he seemed entirely oblivious to it, his toes repeatedly tapping over floating wood and rocks to launch himself forward again, thinking only of being faster.

Meanwhile, inside the valley clearing, the earth-shaking boom echoed. While Qin Lanchang was still dazed, Ruan Feiyu swept up the iron chain from the ground and barked, “A Zoujiao is happening! Run!”

Hearing this, Lu Mingyuan grabbed Qin Lanchang by the wrist. At this moment, he cared nothing for propriety, wishing he could turn her into a rope to tie to his own body as he followed Ruan Feiyu toward the towering slope nearby. However, the lightness skills of the three of them could only be considered average. Before they could climb to safety, the roaring torrent of mud and rock came stampeding like ten thousand horses, spilling over the cliff in an instant and sweeping down to engulf everything like a collapsing sky!

A few scattered trees stood in the middle, but they could not block the sea of mud at all. They were instantly uprooted, tumbling alongside massive boulders, many of which came crashing toward them. Qin Lanchang had no time to dodge before a broken log slammed into her body. Even though Lu Mingyuan deflected most of the impact, the momentary brute force still injured her internal organs, causing her to vomit a mouthful of blood.

The mudslide was right before their eyes. Carrying a person while running with all his might, Lu Mingyuan felt as if his lungs were about to burst. Right then, Ruan Feiyu whipped out the iron chain, precisely wrapping it around a large protruding tree on the slope. Using the leverage to vault himself up, he threw the other end of the chain down, shouting, “Hold on tight!”

Lu Mingyuan hesitated for a fraction of a second.

He was a full-grown man of over six feet, and carrying a half-grown girl made their combined weight considerable. Moreover, although Ruan Feiyu possessed excellent martial arts, he was advanced in years and had been frail and sickly of late; he could not compare to the robust strength of youth.

If he grabbed hold of this chain, it might drag Ruan Feiyu down too.

Before this thought could rotate for even a single breath in his mind, Lu Mingyuan made his decision. He grabbed the chain, swiftly wrapped it three times around Qin Lanchang’s hands, and struck her with a palm—harmlessly, yet providing enough force to launch her upward. Above them, Ruan Feiyu pulled in sync, dragging Qin Lanchang onto the large tree.

Qin Lanchang’s face was deathly pale. “Scholar—!”

Before her cry could fade, Lu Mingyuan lost his balance from the exertion of throwing her. His footing staggered. Not good, he thought, as the rolling wall of mud surged from behind, on the verge of swallowing him whole!

In the nick of time, a dark shadow leaped like a bird out of the woods, vaulting down from the cliff. With a few bounds across the mountain rocks, the figure closed the distance rapidly.

The newcomer was none other than Chu Xiwei. He stepped onto a piece of drifting broken wood. With a surge of force beneath his feet, he didn’t sink; instead, he glided a dozen zhang across the churning sea of mud, reaching Lu Mingyuan’s side in an instant. Bending down, he caught his arm and yanked him straight out like pulling a radish.

Experiencing such drastic ups and downs within a mere instant, Qin Lanchang’s heart had barely settled before her hand tightened. Ruan Feiyu pulled the chain, leading her further up the mountain. Qin Lanchang looked back hurriedly, only letting out a sigh of relief when she saw Chu Xiwei following behind with Lu Mingyuan.

The torrent surged below. Fortunately, though Ruan Feiyu’s lightness skill was ordinary, his vision and methodology surpassed common men; he rapidly located a shortcut up the mountain. Stamping heavily on a large boulder, he vaulted onto the mountainside. Within two breaths, Chu Xiwei and Lu Mingyuan also set foot onto this clearing. Unable to hold their footing, both sank heavily to their knees.

Lu Mingyuan had narrowly escaped death, his soul still shaken. Chu Xiwei knelt on one knee, his head hanging low; Qin Lanchang could only hear his ragged, frantic breathing.

Qin Lanchang scrambled forward a few steps. Seeing that the mudflow had almost filled the entire valley—though fortunately blocked by the high mountains, its subsequent momentum faded and the roaring display slowly ground to a halt—her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground.

Ruan Feiyu leaned against a massive rock. He was old, after all. After a fierce battle followed by a desperate sprint up the mountain to escape with his life, he was coughing violently. This coughing sound seemed to snap Chu Xiwei awake. Pressing his hands hard against his knees, his body swayed a couple of times before he forced himself to stand up.

Only then did Qin Lanchang notice that her young uncle—who was usually so calm, composed, and seemingly omnipotent—was deathly pale, his voice as faint as gossamer: “Do you… have the ‘Huanyang Pill’ with you?”

The Huanyang Pill (Return of Yang Pill) was by no means some miraculous saving medicine that could flesh a skeleton or revive the dead; on the contrary, it was a lethal substance. It was a medication carried by members of the Hundred Ghosts Sect that could rapidly replenish one’s strength, but it could only sustain them for an hour. Once the duration passed, it would completely hollow out one’s vital energy, requiring at least ten days to half a month of bedrest to recover. In particular, if someone already harboring internal injuries consumed it, it would severely aggravate their condition.

This was a forbidden drug that would absolutely never be deployed unless facing a near-death crisis.

Save for his early years when he fought tooth and nail, Chu Xiwei had never touched this substance after attaining a high position and mastering his martial arts. Consequently, he carried no spare on his person. It was Qin Lanchang who had brought one along just in case when she snuck out of the sect.

Understanding Chu Xiwei’s meaning, her expression turned frantic, her mind thrown into a chaotic turmoil as her words became incoherent: “No, Young Uncle, you right now…”

“Give it to me.”

Chu Xiwei was utterly exhausted, lacking even the strength to utter a word of nonsense. His dark eyes stared fixedly at Qin Lanchang, filled with an unyielding, severe gravity.

Just at that moment, Ruan Feiyu suddenly stood up, looking toward the mountain path behind them, and said, “Someone is coming.”