Chapter 47: Are You Kidding Me?

'I'm not worried about murder but the trouble that comes after,' was Fang Lang's thought.

Although he knew killing Lin Yun would bring forth much trouble, he had no remorse.

Lin Yun had used Old Fang to threaten him. Lin Yun did not hurt the old man and he even had the Queen of Flowers keep his father company.

Despite that, Fang Lang was determined to kill Lin Yun.

Lin Yun was cruel and wild—the way he humiliated Liu Bubai during the Gathering of Swords was indicative of his nature. Who knew what Lin Yun would do after losing this fight?

Therefore, Fang Lang decided murder was the best solution.

He pulled out the sword—Lin Yun's lifeless body fell onto the ground. Rain watered his corpse as blood mingled with the puddles.

Warmth slowly seeped out of the body. The cold rain took whatever heat that was left, leaving an icy corpse.

As a precaution, Fang Lang raised his sword and sliced off Lin Yun's head.

He breathed a sigh of relief after seeing Lin Yun's mutilated corpse. There was not an inch left unscathed and the head was severed from the body.

He was the first person Fang Lang killed in this strange world—first, but definitely not his last.

Cultivation was not a sentimental practice.

…

Silence filled Chunmei Courtyard.

There was only the sound of raindrops striking the ground.

The tall and sturdy figure studied Lin Yun's fallen body, disbelief on his face.

Lin Yun was dead.

A fifth-grade sword master was killed by a sword disciple.

Lin Yun became a sacrificial lamb in the conflict between the two giants—the Jiang family and the third prince. The whole incident was somewhat comical in a dark humor sort of way.

The tall and sturdy man was frozen. He did not expect an outcome like this.

Lin Yun had confidently said he would win. The man had no reason to doubt him—Lin Yun had always delivered.

Without any Imperial Examination qualifications, Lin Yun was accepted by the third prince as an aide. He was a young upstart who had access to plenty of cultivation resources thanks to the third prince. As long as Lin Yun stood out in the Imperial Examination, he would have gone places.

However, Lin Yun went nowhere... Instead, he laid dead in Luojiang City, dead at the hands of a nameless teen.

Whoosh!

The tall and sturdy figure's sword hand trembled.

"Wen Ting!"

The Scholarly Sword Master blocked him!

Mentor Wen effortlessly drew a thin sword. With a wave, countless bright lights formed and the blade energy scattered throughout the courtyard, making all the raindrops explode.

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The tall and sturdy figure took a step back with a pained expression.

He would be punished for Lin Yun's death.

Donglu's God of Blades and the third prince would not forgive him easily.

"Damned boy!" The man turned to Fang Lang. His eyes were burning with rage and he looked as if he wanted to swallow Fang Lang whole.

In the rain, Fang Lang leaned on the Blooming Lotus Sword. He glanced at the furious man and smirked.

'Stare all you want. Lin Yun was the one who traveled all the way here to experience death. It's none of my problem. I'm just here to fulfill your wish.'

Mentor Wen was taken aback by the event. He was pensive as he studied Lin Yun's pitiful corpse.

Secret technique!

That graceful maneuver with the blade energy lotus flower reminded Mentor Wen of the Sword Guild's sect leader. Fang Lang's attack carried some elements of Xuanyuan Taihua's fighting style.

The boy not only earned the right to wield the Blooming Lotus Sword, he even learned the secret technique?

Was it a natural progression to acquire the secret technique after owning the sword?

"Wen Ting! Hand him over, or else—" the tall and sturdy figure said through gritted teeth. He had a deranged look about him.

Umbrella in hand, Mentor Wen interrupted without hesitation. "And give up my eight-silver-coin mentor pay? Are you kidding me?"

He advanced as he spoke.

The sword in his hand shot out. It floated on its own accord and made a keening sound. The vibration pierced the raindrops.

Mentor Wen reached out and gestured—one sword became ten.

Ten swords hovered in the air with the tips pointing downwards. Their cries echoed.

A unique aura emanated from Mentor Wen. The rainwater flowed toward him, spiralling around his body.

In the courtyard, Fang Lang held his sword and stared wide-eyed at Mentor Wen. In an instant, their surroundings were filled with an immense blade energy.

The rain transformed into countless blades that arranged themselves around Mentor Men.

"Fourth-class sword master, sword intent realm," Fang Lang uttered.

This was the first time he was witnessing a fourth-class sword master utilizing the sword intent realm.

He was enchanted by the scene. Two words appeared in his mind, 'F*ck yeah!'

Umbrella in hand, Mentor Wen looked like he was on a leisurely stroll, barring the ten hovering swords.

"Fang Lang is my student. It's my responsibility to protect him. Furthermore, death is always a possibility in a private duel between two cultivators, the Tang Dynasty's laws have it clearly written. Who are we to stand between them? I never backed down from a threat in Changan, so who do you think you are? How dare you threaten me on my turf?"

Mentor Wen waved his hand.

The ten swords pointed up and at the sturdy figure. The swords took flight.

As they flew, each sword vibrated and split into tens and hundreds of sword mirages.

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The tall and sturdy man wore a somber expression.

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One man could not take down hundreds of swords.

This was the sword intent realm of a peaked fourth-class sword master.

The man did not retreat. Instead, he lifted his heavy sword as if it weighed nothing and engaged in a dance with the hundreds of swords coming his way. The onslaught was akin to a swarm of hornets flying one's way.

The man only had one blade.

Donglu, Dominating Sword Style.

Boom!

An explosive sound echoed as blade energy ran rampant. A strong gale swept across the courtyard.

The tall and sturdy man lost his grip on his sword. Blood stained the web between his thumb and the forefinger. He took one step back, and then another. Awkwardly, he retreated from Chunmei Courtyard. The brick floor shattered with every step he took and murky puddles splashed everywhere.

Mentor Wen waved his hand.

Swords gathered and shot toward the tall and sturdy man. The man was ultimately drenched as he endured the cuts and hits. Blood flowed freely.

The man was being lynched.

The tall and sturdy man looked awful. Blood flowed down his body as he gritted his teeth. A maniacal glint shone in his eyes as he glared at Mentor Wen. A paper talisman appeared in the man's hand.

The man tore the talisman into pieces.

Behind the tall and sturdy figure, a magnificent presence grew and grew!

The lonely night sky of Luojiang City was cleaved apart by an enormous sword mirage.

A domineering sword intent oozed from the mirage.

Mentor Wen's eyes narrowed and said in displeasure, "Donglu's God of Blades's blade energy? That's excessive."

As soon as he said that, the giant blade mirage swung down. The blade energy surrounding the mirage splintered the rain.

One hand on the umbrella, Mentor Wen gestured with his free hand.

The vast amount of swords stopped in their tracks. They flew back to Mentor Wen. The swords clanged as they formed a shield protecting their wielder.

Conk!

The sword mirage struck the shield.

A circular wave spread out from the epicenter of the attack.

Chunmei Courtyard was in shambles. The energy wave rippled out and cracks began to form on the pillars of the pavilion.

Within the pavilion, Old Fang held the screaming Queen of Flowers tight and patted her perfumed shoulders.

The shield spun and withstood the sword mirage's attacking pressure. Meanwhile, Mentor Wen moved a hundred paces back, gliding through the water puddles, umbrella in hand.

Noticing Mentor Wen's movements, the tall and sturdy man sprung into action. Through the winds and rain, he lunged for Fang Lang who was leaning on his sword.

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Large hands grabbed Fang Lang as the sword intent overwhelmed him. A fourth-class sword intent was not something Fang Lang could overcome.

Fang Lang felt the world was a cage and the rain was his shackles.

The tall and sturdy man did not want to suffer for Lin Yun's death. He wanted to use Fang Lang as his whipping boy who would take the God of Blades and the third prince's rage in his stead.

The man simply did not want to die.

Fang Lang's expression shifted. As if sensing something, he raised his head to the sky.

A howl echoed from the sky!

Like a legendary beast descending from the mountains, a bloodthirsty aura dropped from the sky. The radiating energy dissipated the rainwater.

The ground trembled as if there was an earthquake.

A silhouette blocked Fang Lang.

The person's appearance made the tall and sturdy man's pupils constrict. He stuttered, "Zhao… Zhao Wuji!"

It was evident Fang Lang had deep connections with the Jiang family.

Zhao Wuji stepped onto the ground. This was not the same man Fang Lang remembered—the Zhao Wuji he knew was a simpleton.

This Zhao Wuji had razor-sharp eyes, an imposing aura and a surging vital energy.

He punched the air and an energy wave exploded from his fist.

The tall and sturdy figure was struck by the wave and blood dripped from his nose and mouth. The attack left craters in the ground as if it was a grenade.

Poor man, getting beaten up left and right.

The man laid dejectedly in his own blood. He tore the final paper talisman to save his life—he transformed into a beam of light and bounced away at lightning speed. The man bounded for the exit and promptly left Chunmei Courtyard.

Zhao Wuji was a man built like a mountain. He looked around and was dumbfounded. Then, a complicated expression crossed his face as he said apologetically, "The young lady was worried about you so she sent me. This matter pertains to the Jiang family and as an apology, fair compensation will be provided."

Moments later, he glanced at Lin Yun's corpse. Unperturbed, Zhao Wuji vanished from the courtyard, hot on the heels of the tall and sturdy figure.

...

The main street of Luojiang City was desolate as the heavy rain scrubbed the city clean.

A horse carriage trotted casually. At the top of the carriage was a ringing bronze bell.

The sound of the bell was louder than the hoofbeats, the carriage wheels and the rain.

Ragged breathing and stomping footsteps echoed through the street, disrupting the peace.

It was the sturdy man who was heavily injured by Zhao Wuji's punch. He had used a spell talisman to escape Chunmei Courtyard.

As he ran in the rain, blood spilled from his mouth.

Suddenly, his footsteps halted. His body froze.

The rain and the wind were silent.

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The horse carriage stopped ten meters away from the tall and sturdy figure.

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