Chapter 7 : Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“Clink!”
It was the sound of two noises overlapping.
One was the snap of his flying sword breaking.
The other…
Bai Yi stared at Shuang Wenlü in disbelief.
The front half of his broken flying sword was firmly clamped between a pair of chopsticks—and those chopsticks were firmly held in the swordsman’s hand.
The clash of combat rang out in a chaotic chorus.
Just a moment ago, Cai Suhong had struck at the same time.
With one hand, she snatched up a huge bronze pot; with the other, she seized a large bronze ladle.
She swung them with fierce momentum, trying to block Bai Yi’s sword.
But the other five had already attacked alongside Bai Yi.
Two split off to hold Cai Suhong back, while the remaining three formed a formation and charged the other three customers in the stall.
The place instantly erupted into a melee.
None of them paid attention to the two people eating hot soup noodles.
In their spiritual perception, those two were merely ordinary folk.
At most, they might know a bit of martial skill—but how could a mortal’s kung fu compare with a cultivator’s methods?
Yet in that brief instant, Lang Qingyun reached into his basket and drew forth a flash of white light like lightning.
With a single gleam, it severed Bai Yi’s flying sword.
Only then did everyone see clearly that the white light was a short sword, barely a foot long.
As for the other man, he had merely lifted his hand and caught Bai Yi’s thousand-times-tempered flying sword—a treasured artifact—with nothing but bamboo chopsticks.
How could these be ordinary people?!
Lang Qingyun turned to Shuang Wenlü, delighted.
“Brother Shuang, your skill is truly extraordinary!”
Bai Yi had seen them sever and catch the blade in tandem, but Lang Qingyun could feel it: when he cut the flying sword, the sword no longer carried any forward force.
It had already been pinned by Shuang Wenlü’s chopsticks.
Reassured, Lang Qingyun no longer worried about Shuang Wenlü.
He left Bai Yi to him and, sword in hand, rushed to help the others.
Shuang Wenlü still held the chopsticks with Bai Yi’s broken blade clamped between them.
He made no further move.
A faint smile remained on his face—a smile that, to Bai Yi, was unbearably glaring.
Bai Yi, however, did not dare move at all. He stared at Shuang Wenlü as sweat seeped onto his face.
He felt wrapped in an invisible pressure, with nowhere to flee.
He even felt as though he were suffocating.
If he could not leave at once, he would slowly die here.
Yet he still did not dare move.
He feared that the moment he so much as twitched, the half-blade that had once belonged to him would pierce straight through his chest.
On this side, the two stood in eerie silence.
On the other, the battle raged with thunderous vigor.
The Six Bandits of Bima Mountain might have a vile reputation, but that only proved their strength was real.
Their “as-the-heart-wills” formation could be formed by two or three, or by four or five.
Once the formation took shape, its power multiplied severalfold.
Cai Suhong was at the fifth Yuheng Realm.
The three people she had gathered were also at the fourth or fifth realms, but they did not know one another and lacked even basic coordination.
They could only fight separately, and they could not match the bandits’ formation.
The reason they had managed to hold out this long was, in large part, because the bandits had not intended to kill them.
The Six Bandits of Bima Mountain had come here because they had accidentally obtained a piece of information from someone—news of a Mystic Realm.
A Mystic Realm meant inheritances, cultivation manuals, spiritual treasures, and rare medicines… but it also meant danger.
They wanted to keep Cai Suhong alive because only she knew where that Mystic Realm was and how to enter it.
They also wanted to keep the others alive.
Better to use other people’s lives to scout danger than to gamble with their own brothers’ lives.
What they had not expected was to encounter two such unexpected figures.
Lang Qingyun had already plunged into the formation.
His skills were indeed formidable, but with five bandits joined in formation, they could still contain him.
Watching him, they only felt his cultivation was strangely peculiar.
He did not look like a cultivator, but rather like a mortal warrior. Cultivators typically used swords in two ways: one was like an ordinary sword, with a hilt and guard, wielded by hand and also capable of being controlled in flight; the other was like Bai Yi’s now-broken flying sword, with no place to grip, edged at both ends, usable only through sword-control.
Lang Qingyun’s short sword belonged to the first type, yet he never let it leave his hand, as though he could not control a sword in flight.
Shuang Wenlü still did not move.
He even had leisure to turn his head and watch the others fight.
Bai Yi still did not dare move, his gaze nailed to Shuang Wenlü. Even when sweat ran into his eyes, he did not dare blink.
Shuang Wenlü was watching Lang Qingyun’s sword.
The sword itself was not unusual. What was interesting was the way Lang Qingyun used it.
When Lang Qingyun wielded a sword, there was only one word for it: danger. Dangerous to others, and dangerous to himself as well.
The short sword was very sharp—sharp enough to sever Bai Yi’s treasured artifact in a single strike.
Yet the true sharpness did not come from the blade.
It came from Lang Qingyun’s heart: a ruthless sword intent that cut away all entanglements. And yet his sword did not wish to kill.
That sharpness never aimed at taking lives.
A sword’s hilt existed for a person to grasp; a sword’s guard existed to protect that person.
Lang Qingyun gripped his sword tightly and never let it leave his hand.
Even though that prevented him from keeping distance, he still darted through the overlapping radiance of artifacts and spells, constantly on the edge of disaster.
Bai Yi had never joined the other five in formation.
Though the others had not noticed anything at first, after seeing Lang Qingyun enter the fray, they realized they had misjudged their opponents.
The first to charge over was Shi Liuzi, the fourth among the six bandits.
He was short and fat, like a squat stone pillar, his body packed with bulging knots of muscle like tumors. His features were also ill-proportioned—ugly and grotesque.
Shi Liuzi was closest to Bai Yi. He could already see Bai Yi was about to collapse.
Even though Shuang Wenlü had not moved an inch, Bai Yi’s sweat had soaked a round patch on the ground beneath his feet, and his body had begun to sway.
Shi Liuzi roared and lunged at Shuang Wenlü with his blade.
It was a broad, thick saber, nearly as tall as he was.
The edge lay along the inner curve.
The tip was not formed where the inner and outer curves met, but cut down into a right angle as if broken off—and even that short right-angled edge was sharpened.
But Bai Yi did not react as though saved.
He screamed in terror, “Do not!”
Shuang Wenlü finally moved.
With a light flick of his wrist, the broken half-blade clamped in his chopsticks vanished.
Shi Liuzi was at the peak of his leap—the peak of his momentum.
He stopped there, then lowered his head in bewilderment.
The half-blade that had disappeared was buried deep in his heart.
The massive saber slipped from his hand. He fell with a heavy thud, rolled twice, and went still.
“Fourth Brother!”
“Liuzi!” Bai Yi forgot his fear and threw himself over, reaching out in panic—but the body was already utterly devoid of life.
“Third Brother, come back!” Ma Chengqi bellowed.
Only when the six stood together were they strongest and safest.
Fourth Brother was already gone—no matter how grief-stricken, Third Brother should not break away alone at this moment.
Bai Yi shot Shuang Wenlü a look.
It no longer held terror, but icy hatred and murderous intent.
Then he fled without looking back, sprinting into the formation with the remaining four.
Shuang Wenlü did not stop him.
Pressure on Cai Suhong and the others abruptly increased—not only because Bai Yi had joined them, but because the remaining four bandits no longer held back.
They no longer cared about keeping scouts alive, nor did they care about the Mystic Realm.
They only wanted to kill everyone here and avenge their brother!
Shuang Wenlü neither left nor interfered. He simply sat there, watching quietly.
The remaining five did not know why he did this, but they could see how unfathomable he was.
Whatever his reason for not stepping in, it was good for them.
They planned to kill these people together first, then seek revenge on Shuang Wenlü.
The others struggled bitterly beneath the formation, with no spare strength even to call for help.
It became an absurd scene—one person sitting idly to the side, while everyone else fought for their lives.
Yet although Cai Suhong and the others had suddenly fallen into extreme peril, none of them truly faced danger. None of them were even injured.
Because of Lang Qingyun.
The more fierce and violent the bandits’ techniques became, the faster and colder his sword grew.
He always found a flaw within the net of spells and strikes, slipping through to protect himself and protect the others.
But Lang Qingyun seemed close to his limit.
His sword grew sharper.
His footwork grew swifter.
Yet his eyes grew colder and colder, and his strikes more ruthless.
He had never wanted to kill—but he was beginning to lose control of his sword.
It was then that Shuang Wenlü finally acted.
His finger twitched, and the chopsticks in his hand vanished without a trace.
Among the bandits, there was a pair of brothers surnamed Lin.
They were demonic beasts who had taken human form—tall and powerfully built.
Their artifact was a pair of millstones, each brother holding one half.
When the two halves spun together, anyone in the formation would be ground down as if trapped between millstones.
A single chopstick struck the millstone.
It exploded instantly.
The Lin brothers had no time to react and took the full force head-on.
They were hurled backward out of the five-man formation and crashed to the ground, their life and death unknown.
Among the bandits there was also a tall, gaunt man like a wraith, named Wang Xian’er.
He wielded a banner artifact, and one of his eyes was blind.
The second chopstick shot straight toward his remaining good eye.
Wang Xian’er saw it, but it was too fast—his body could no longer evade.
His pupil shrank to a needle point, becoming a chilling black dot.
A cold, shadowy thread burst from that dot to meet the chopstick.
This was his black-killing pupil line, cultivated over many years.
It could strike both soul and flesh.
An ordinary person would become his puppet with a single glance, and even common cultivators struggled to escape his methods.
That single black-killing line could erode the sword intent on the bamboo chopstick, and it could also halt the chopstick itself, buying him a sliver of time.
But the instant Wang Xian’er’s dark pupil locked onto the chopstick, he let out a scream.
Black blood flowed from his single eye—it had gone blind.
If he had not moved, the sword intent would have remained contained within the chopstick and would not have harmed him yet.
But he had actively touched it with his eye technique, and the fierce sword intent stabbed into his mind at once.
Ma Chengqi happened to be standing beside him.
His cultivation was the highest, and he barely managed to react.
Veins bulged across his face as his left hand, holding his pipe, hooked toward the chopstick, while his right palm slammed forward into Wang Xian’er’s chest.
His arms were longer than most, and his strength and reflexes were faster.
Both arms moved like shadows, yet his left hand only barely managed to catch the tail end of the chopstick.
The pipe, refined into a treasured artifact, snapped into two the moment it met the bamboo chopstick.
The arm still holding the broken end convulsed with bulging veins, then burst with blood.
But his other hand struck Wang Xian’er solidly.
Ma Chengqi did not hold back with gentle force—this blow was nearly a direct strike.
Wang Xian’er spewed blood and flew backward, his body arching as he was thrown away.
The chopstick grazed his upturned forehead, and he narrowly escaped with his life.
After saving Wang Xian’er, Ma Chengqi had no strength left.
His spiritual power was completely drained.
He could not even move his bleeding left hand.
He could only collapse and gasp on the ground.
Of the five bandits, four fell. The formation shattered in an instant, leaving only Bai Yi standing blankly in place. Staring at the tragic state of his brothers, his eyes turned red with fury as he charged at Shuang Wenlü.
“I will kill you!”
Clang!
Cai Suhong slammed the bottom of her pot into his head, knocking him to the ground.
He tried several times to scramble up, but could not rise again.
Propping the pot with one hand and planting the other on her hip, Cai Suhong panted, “Damn it! I have never fought a battle this stifling in my life!”
Her cultivation surpassed each of them individually, but their combined formation was disgustingly troublesome.
Striking one person felt as though the force was spread across all of them, and attacks would suddenly dart out from nowhere.
She had to keep defending at every moment, leaving her flustered and stretched thin.
Once her breathing steadied, Cai Suhong hurried to Shuang Wenlü and put on a flattering smile.
“Senior, how should we deal with these few?”
The others had already sealed the five bandits’ cultivation and restrained them with artifacts such as binding ropes.
Ma Chengqi’s left hand still dripped blood, staining his sleeve red.
He looked up at Shuang Wenlü and said, “We failed to recognize Mount Tai and admit defeat. The six of us have roamed for many years and accumulated a sizable fortune. We are willing to hand it all over to Senior, only asking that you spare our lives. If Senior is angry, you may take my life. I will have the other four swear to the Heavenly Dao that we will never seek revenge by any means and that we will no longer commit evil.”
The Lin brothers were still unconscious. Bai Yi choked out a sob and wailed, “No! Big Brother, no! I am the one who should die! I was the first to strike!”
Wang Xian’er had been blinded in both eyes. The blow to his chest had been too heavy; he could only cough, unable to speak. He struggled on the ground, crawling toward Ma Chengqi, then kowtowed toward Shuang Wenlü.
Lang Qingyun walked over.
He had been adjusting his state, suppressing the chilling murderous aura in his eyes. Seeing them now, he sighed.
“When your brother dies, you grieve like this. Why were you so merciless when you killed others?”
Cai Suhong snorted.
“Young man, if you knew what they have done, you would not be sighing.”
She pointed with her toe at Shi Liuzi’s corpse.
“That fourth one was ugly, and he hated most of all when people said he was ugly—especially when women did not like him. If a woman dared refuse him, or even looked at him the wrong way, she would meet a terrible end. His saber’s tip was for flaying skin, and the body of the blade was for scraping it clean. If you rummage through his storage pouch, you will find at least hundreds—perhaps thousands—of beautiful women’s skins he peeled after ruining them!”
Disgust flashed across Lang Qingyun’s face.
“What do you know?!” Bai Yi struggled.
“Do you know how hateful those people were?! Liuzi was ugly, and they beat him and cursed him, kicking him around like a ball!”
“I have no interest in judging your case,” Shuang Wenlü said.
“Nor do I have interest in handling trouble. Their formation was stolen from Wujiguan—hand them over to Wujiguan to deal with.”
His last sentence was directed at Cai Suhong.
Wujiguan was also an upright, reputable sect, skilled in formations and talismans.
Cai Suhong nodded and agreed.
She lifted her big pot and scooped them inside, packing the five bandits into it. She would profit from this.
After she delivered them to Wujiguan, Wujiguan would surely owe her thanks.
After everything was settled, Cai Suhong apologized again.
The first three customers had suffered trouble for nothing, but since all ended safely, they also knew this was not Cai Suhong’s fault.
The problem lay with Fude Pavilion’s side, or with the last contact.
As for Lang Qingyun and Shuang Wenlü, they had been utterly innocent bystanders.
Lang Qingyun did not mind.
He smiled and said, “I am the sort of person who likes to get into trouble. Your hot soup noodles are truly delicious. Could you make a few more portions for me later?”
Cai Suhong readily agreed, then looked nervously at Shuang Wenlü.
“Senior…”
“I would rather know why they came here,” Shuang Wenlü said unhurriedly.
Lang Qingyun also looked at Cai Suhong with curiosity.
After a fight out of nowhere, they naturally deserved the reason.
Cai Suhong scratched her palm awkwardly, desperately calling for help from the System in her mind. What should she do? What should she say?
Shuang Wenlü had saved her once. Sharing information about a Mystic Realm was nothing.
The problem was that the Mystic Realm was fake!
The System promised grandly, “Just say what you said before. It will be fine.”
“R-really?” Cai Suhong asked anxiously.
“It will be fine,” the System reassured her.
“Do not worry. I am an old-brand System. At worst, I will spend some of my reserves. Unless the Sword Sovereign himself arrives, no one will be able to see the problem!”
Cai Suhong believed it and said, “It is about a Mystic Realm!”