SS CH50

The evening sun was sinking in the west, casting a molten, golden glow across the sky.

Ruan Feiyu, that old scoundrel, had likely committed too many sins in his life; no matter where he went, dark clouds seemed to follow him. He was a living, breathing target.

While one side was deeply engrossed in conversation and the other was busy lighting the fire to cook, Ye Fusheng remained caught in the middle. Leaning against the dilapidated wooden door, he appeared to be resting with his eyes closed. In reality, his mind was racing through a thousand thoughts, digging up every scrap of information he knew regarding the “Southern Scholar.” He replayed them in his mind like a revolving lantern, trying to deduce which faction these three individuals belonged to.

Ruan Feiyu’s journey began in the imperial examinations, flourished in the martial world, and culminated in the imperial court. It could be said that his disciples spanned the realm, but his enemies spanned the four seas just the same. Some hailed him as a saint of reform and innovation, while others condemned him as a sinner obsessed with power and desire. The grievances and disputes tied to his name were countless—a tangled web of merits and faults that defied easy judgment, many of which involved critical affairs of the state. It was impossible to untangle them in a single moment, and those who wished to send him to the eighteenth tier of hell were too numerous to count.

As he was pondering this, Ruan Feiyu suddenly remarked, “Looking at your demeanor, elder, you do not seem to be an ordinary farmer.”

Qin Lanchang’s heart skipped a beat. Fortunately, Lu Mingyuan caught her by the sleeve as if he had anticipated it, preventing her from showing any outward signs of agitation. The old man raised his eyes to look at Ruan Feiyu and sighed. “In my younger years, I served in the military. Later, I retired and returned home.”

Ye Fusheng’s heart stirred. Suddenly, he felt a gaze land upon him. Turning his head, he saw the young girl, Xiuer, peeking out from the house. Seeing him look back, she hesitated and extended her hand. However, the old man turned around at that moment and smiled. “Xiuer, what is it?”

“G-Grandpa…” Her hand snapped back instantly. Xiuer murmured, “The… the food is ready.”

Hearing this, the old man stood up and patted his clothes, leading them into the house. Lu Mingyuan fell a step behind to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with Ye Fusheng, lowering his voice. “Just now, Miss Xiuer seemed to have something to say to you.”

Ye Fusheng nodded, adopting a look of deep distress. “Bright eyes and beautiful teeth, sending secret signals of affection. Before a single word is spoken, the meaning is already infinite.”

Lu Mingyuan had never encountered anyone so utterly shameless. For a moment, he was entirely at a loss for words. His only recourse was to widen the distance between them to protect himself.

The room was not large, and with the sudden addition of the four of them, it became quite cramped. Ye Fusheng examined the mottled mud walls and the cobwebs in the corners. He watched as the old man vigorously wiped down the only wooden table in the room, shoving a brick beneath one of its legs to maintain a precarious, fragile balance.

Xiuer and the skinny man were bringing the food and dishes to the table. Looking at the filthy, chipped bowls and basins—and noting how their fingers accidentally dipped into the soup—Qin Lanchang instantly lost her appetite. She held her rice bowl hesitantly, unable to bring herself to dig in.

Ye Fusheng took up his chopsticks, preparing to pick up some food, when he suddenly felt someone nudge his foot under the table. He unobtrusively glanced across from him; Xiuer was currently picking up a piece of dried radish, eating it along with her gruel.

Lowering his eyelids slightly, he picked up a piece of fried vegetable cake and dropped it into Qin Lanchang’s bowl. He completely ignored the look the young mistress gave her bowl—as if he had just tossed a dead rat into it. After she hesitated for a long time, Ye Fusheng stepped on her foot, forcing her to make a heroic sacrifice. She picked it up and took a bite.

Compared to Qin Lanchang’s poorly concealed disgust, Ruan Feiyu, who had long occupied high positions, reacted quite normally. He drank the coarse grain porridge and ate the salted vegetables and cured meat. He looked precisely like an old scholar thoroughly accustomed to simple, coarse fare, his scholarly refinement still lingering amidst the bitter hardship of poverty.

However, after only a few bites, Ruan Feiyu’s hand holding the chopsticks trembled. His body swayed twice. Before he could say a word, he collapsed forward.

Sitting right next to him, Lu Mingyuan was startled. He hurriedly reached out to support Ruan Feiyu’s body, but a sudden wave of weakness washed over him as well. He propped himself up against the table with his hands, but ultimately, he too failed to remain upright.

Qin Lanchang’s face altered drastically. She drew her long sword and pointed it at the opposite side, but her body went limp. With a sharp clatter, the sword slipped from her hand and fell onto the table, splashing soup everywhere.

The chopsticks in Ye Fusheng’s hand remained perfectly upright, driven deep into the wooden table. Upon closer inspection, the tips had penetrated three inches into the wood. He held onto the embedded chopsticks with one hand as if using them to stabilize his own body, while his other hand caught Qin Lanchang to keep her from crashing to the floor.

He was a man who loved to smile, but his smile vanished completely now. His gaze turned icy as he looked across the table. Flinching slightly under such eyes, the old man turned his head and asked, “Xiuer, what did you want to say to this young master earlier?”

Xiuer’s face turned stark white, and she stood up in a panic. “I… I didn’t dare!”

“You ungrateful little wretch, you nearly ruined our great undertaking!” The skinny man’s eyes turned vicious, and he raised his hand to slap her across the face. Ye Fusheng frowned, picked up a bowl of soup from the table, and splashed it across. When the liquid struck the man’s hand, it carried a biting force; his arm shuddered, and he hurriedly pulled it back, glaring at Ye Fusheng in a fury.

Ye Fusheng said, “Why be so furious, brother? This young lady said nothing just now. Though using a numbing drug to welcome us is a bit too hospitable, don’t you think?”

“We dare not underestimate the people surrounding the Southern Scholar,” the old man said with a faint smile, though his expression darkened as his eyes fell upon Ruan Feiyu. “However, our purpose today is only this old scoundrel’s head. It has nothing to do with you youngsters. We merely used a few methods to ensure you wouldn’t interfere. Old thief Ruan, it has been over thirty years. It seems you no longer remember me.”

Ruan Feiyu’s gaze remained indifferent. Even though he could not move his body, his bearing was not a bit flustered. He spoke calmly, “If I had to remember every single person who wanted my life, this old frame would live far too exhausting a life.”

Fury rushed to the skinny man’s brow. “Elder Zhang, why waste words on him? Just hack him down!”

Qin Lanchang cursed roundly, “You won’t even let a person die with a clear understanding? You son of a b—”

Ye Fusheng pressed her down and said, “Lord Ruan is a person of high status who forgets things easily. Why don’t I take a guess instead?”

The old man stared fixedly at him. Ye Fusheng continued, “You chose to lie in wait here at Anxi Mountain, and you are a retired military man. It seems this grievance must be related to this place. Could it be… from after the ‘Qin Case‘?”

The old man narrowed his eyes. “Young master, the more you know, the shorter your life will be.”

Ye Fusheng sighed. “I’m a person who usually hates using my brain. Unfortunately, one must fulfill the duties of one’s position. If I let Lord Ruan die here today, even if you spare us, my entire family will not escape being implicated. I must at least have a culprit to blame when I return.”

The old man replied, “Hearing you say that, it seems I should kill you all right now to eliminate any future troubles.”

“That would be for the best. Otherwise, to protect my family, I will definitely root you all out when I return, down to the last man. Every single one of you will be counted, and we shall all die together.”

Ye Fusheng’s tone was perfectly casual, but Qin Lanchang, leaning against his shoulder, felt a sudden shiver. She could not tell if this statement was a joke or a promise carved in stone.

“The people around this old thief Ruan are indeed not to be trifled with,” the skinny man spat, drawing a thick-backed saber. “Then I shall let you die with a clear mind. My name is Yan Peng, son of the former Minister of War, Yan Hong. Twelve years ago, this old thief Ruan framed my father to eliminate his political rivals, causing him to die in exile. If I do not avenge this hatred, I am no human being!”

He spoke incredibly fast, and the old man could not stop him in time. After a moment of silence, the elder said, “Very well, we shall send you on your way with a clear understanding… This old man is Zhang Ze, a lieutenant under General Qin. Back then, this old thief Ruan falsely accused the Qin family, leading to the execution of the entire clan and implicating countless soldiers under his command. I was fortunate to survive, and I must demand justice.”

As the accounts of blood and hatred were laid bare one by one, Lu Mingyuan’s face turned instantly pale. He looked toward his mentor, only to find Ruan Feiyu remaining entirely at ease. The scholar shifted his gaze to Xiuer and asked, “Then whose descendant is this young lady?”

Xiuer spoke in a trembling voice, “M-My mother was the daughter of Censor Xu Congxia. Later, because she was implicated in the Qin Case, she was forced to become a military courtesan… and gave birth to me.”

Ruan Feiyu let out a self-deprecating laugh. “So you are all creditors. It is not unjust for you to claim my life.”

“Since it is not unjust, then go down to hell and confess your sins!” Yan Peng bellowed. He stepped to Ruan Feiyu’s side, raised the thick-backed saber high, and brought it hacking down toward Ruan Feiyu’s head!

His eyes were bloodshot, and his forehead was slick with sweat from sheer excitement. His hand holding the blade was clammy, yet his grip remained vice-like. This strike carried every ounce of his strength; he could already envision the old thief’s head rolling into a pool of blood. The sheer ecstasy of the moment twisted his features, and a grin began to spread across his lips.

But before the smile could fully form, it froze right on his face.

–

A withered, emaciated palm had appeared against his abdomen at some unknown moment. It came too fast—like lightning tearing through the night sky, like a thunderclap ripping across the heavens.

No one had time to react, including Ye Fusheng.

This palm strike was as light as drifting willow catkins, as soft as if it possessed no bones. It resembled a faint cloud drifting across a body, carrying no apparent force; it did not even stir Yan Peng’s clothing by a fraction.

Yet, an extraordinarily fierce and unyielding inner force surged into his organs through that single palm, exploding violently within his body as if to twist every single meridian into shreds!

Blood welled from his mouth, dripping down onto that withered hand.

The temperature of the blood seemed too hot. Ruan Feiyu withdrew his hand and spoke softly, “Back then, Yan Hong conspired with a rebel prince for his own selfish gain. This old frame was ordered to investigate the matter and sentenced his entire house to execution. You blame me for this affair—whether out of ignorance or misguided faith, you are ultimately the remnant of a criminal who has managed to survive until now. Taking your life leaves me with no regrets or hesitation.”

For a moment, the entire room was struck with horror. Yan Peng’s eyes threatened to split from their sockets. He wanted to speak, but the moment he opened his mouth, nothing but fresh blood came rushing out.

In the pool of blood on the floor, a small piece of flesh lay shockingly visible. Ye Fusheng saw it with absolute clarity—it was a fragment of a shattered lung.

A single palm strike had utterly destroyed his internal organs!