Chapter 29

But he truly did kneel.

What everyone felt was no longer shock, but utter, bone-deep terror.

The man still gripped the back of Lu Feixin's neck, and his hand was tightening. Lu Feixin's true qi erupted throughout his body, as though it were about to burst into flames, yet he simply could not resist that terrifying force.

Bang!

Lu Feixin's waist and spine suddenly bent down. His forehead slammed against the stone paving, and though both hands were braced desperately against the ground, they had already buckled, his elbow joints crushed beneath unbearable pressure.

Two more thuds rang out. Lu Feixin was forced to kowtow three times before the man finally released him.

"Have you seen the light?"

King Mao's voice rang out once more.

Lu Feixin's throat bobbed, but not a sound came out.

A true man might be killed, but never humiliated. This was not merely a matter of integrity; it was something etched into the bones of every hot-blooded person.

Suddenly, a corpse appeared before Lu Feixin. It was headless, yet he recognized it at a glance. It was the body of his eldest son. He had seven sons in all. Four sat upstairs, while the other three had traveled the martial world—the Three Heroes of the Lu Family.

Lu Feixin's body trembled. A crazed blood-red gleam flooded his eyes as he stared straight at King Mao.

Yet in that instant, another corpse appeared before him. There was a gaping hole in its chest, and its heart was gone.

That was his third son!

The bloody light in Lu Feixin's eyes intensified. Trembling, he clawed his way up from the ground.

Yet three more corpses appeared before him. They were his three grandsons, their hands and feet gone, leaving only their torsos. They were not quite dead, and their twisted screams shook the heavens.

He had sixteen grandsons and eight granddaughters. Twenty of them were currently in Green Willow Manor.

At this moment, he finally saw the light. There were not enough people in Lu Family Manor for them to kill. No matter how unyielding he was, no matter how unwilling he was to bow his head, he would only die. But his sons, grandsons, and descendants still had a tomorrow. He could not let the Lu Family Manor's foundation of nearly a thousand years be ruined in his hands.

Lu Feixin finally nodded.

King Mao said, "You truly do not know how to conduct yourself!"

Lu Feixin mumbled, "I don't!"

King Mao said, "But now, it seems you have learned a little. Good. Now lead everyone in Lu Family Manor and kill every person here. If even one escapes, use the heads of your Lu Family Manor people to make up for it, starting with your children and grandchildren."

King Mao spoke loudly.

Everyone erupted into commotion and began fleeing madly. Some particularly vicious people repeatedly hacked down the Lu Family disciples and escorts surrounding them, tearing open a gap and charging outward.

The bloody gleam rose again in Lu Feixin's eyes, and he suddenly shouted, "Kill!"

The word "kill" came out twisted and hoarse. It was as though that single shout had drained everything from him, and he collapsed to the ground in despair.

The disciples and escorts of Lu Family Manor all began to move. A melee broke out on the training ground, while upstairs, blades flashed and swords gleamed. Screams rose from every side.

The woman in green looked around. Bloodlight was everywhere. She stuck out her tongue, shuddered all over, and sighed. "How terrifying!"

With that, she swaggered away.

From beginning to end, King Mao seemed not to have seen her at all. Apart from the people of Lu Family Manor, no one even tried to stop her.

Old Man Mu suddenly climbed up from the ground and let out a crazed howl. In this land drenched in blood, he had gone mad like a headless fly, crashing about wildly and sprinting wherever there was no blood.

He was about to rush into the willow grove.

The expressionless man suddenly moved. He silently appeared behind Old Man Mu and threw a punch. That punch should have smashed Old Man Mu into a heap of rotten flesh, yet the sound it made was like striking an enormous bell. With a shriek, Old Man Mu was sent flying, soaring hundreds of zhang through the air. Then he fell deep into the willow grove, and his fly-like cries finally ceased and vanished.

A headless fly had been slapped away.

Divine Detective Eagle's expression changed, and King Mao's face darkened as well. Together, they swept toward the willow grove. Left behind were only the two men carrying the chair, the chair itself, and Mao Dongyue's corpse on it.

Ning Chang'an looked around and saw nothing but blood and slaughter. With a sigh in his heart, he raced like the wind, leapt onto the platform, grabbed the Gloomy Cold Soul Severing Sword, and took advantage of King Mao and the others' absence to flee at full speed.

"Fierce Wolf, he's yours!" One of the men guarding Mao Dongyue's corpse stared fixedly at Ning Chang'an's retreating back. "This fellow runs rather fast..."

A savage, cold smile suddenly surfaced on the other man's expressionless face. "Fierce Jackal, you are wrong. He is not fast at all..."

Fierce Jackal was the one who had subdued Lu Feixin. Fierce Wolf and Fierce Jackal were King Mao's two exceptionally vicious dogs. Much of their purpose in existing was to carry that chair for King Mao. Wherever King Mao went, that chair would appear. They rarely had a chance to make a move. Today was an exception. Fierce Jackal had already enjoyed himself thoroughly, but Fierce Wolf had yet to begin.

Fierce Wolf unconsciously stuck out his tongue and licked his lips. He bent slightly at the waist, let out a suppressed low growl, and suddenly charged out.

The willow grove lay directly in front of Green Willow Manor. Anyone entering Green Willow Manor would pass through that grove. Yet Ning Chang'an's escape route was not through the willow grove; the chances of escaping through it were slim.

He had thought that Divine Detective Eagle's arrival would bring a turn in events, that with his unique eye, he might uncover some clues. Now it seemed Divine Detective Eagle had no such ability at all. Clearly, Divine Detective Eagle had learned of Mao Dongyue's impending death before anyone else and had immediately informed King Mao.

King Mao had arrived too quickly, and the killer behind the scenes had retreated too quickly as well.

Whenever Ning Chang'an thought of Old Man Mu being sent flying with one punch, his scalp went numb. It seemed that Liu Ruyan, despite being a woman, could thrive in the martial world like a fish in water, draw countless men's covetous gazes and admiration while remaining carefree and composed, and single-handedly preside over an immense enterprise like Spring Breeze Tower without anyone shaking it. The hidden forces under her command were truly astonishingly vast. Ning Chang'an found it both unbelievable and perfectly reasonable.

Every great tree with luxuriant branches and leaves had countless immensely developed roots hidden beneath the earth. Those roots were what kept the tree standing tall and prevented it from withering, and they would never reveal themselves easily.

Ning Chang'an sped farther away, urgently needing to expel all the water lodged in his lungs. Breathing was truly difficult now. Yet he had kept a breath held within him, enough to sustain him for the time it took an incense stick to burn.

Ning Chang'an was as nimble as a mountain leopard as he sprang toward the forested mountains behind Green Willow Manor.

Green Willow Manor had been built against a chain of rolling mountains. Not far behind it lay a field of jagged rocks, thick with weeds. Dark green cypresses stood silently one after another, making this area seem especially gloomy and secluded.

Ning Chang'an crossed three small hills in one breath and reached the depths of the cypress forest.

The cypresses grew densely, thick and lush, their branches and leaves interwoven into a single mass that almost completely blocked out the sky.

The forest was damp and cold.

A thick layer of cypress leaves covered the ground. Like broken lengths of pine needles, they had blackened from damp rot, with sparse moss scattered across them. One could walk over them almost without making a sound.

Ning Chang'an stopped among several large boulders.

His stomach felt unbearably awful.

He crouched, pressed at his throat, and vomited out the well water that filled his stomach. He immediately felt much better, but breathing remained difficult. The water in his lungs was coming out too slowly. He decided to stop here for a while, catch his breath properly, and familiarize himself with his changes.

There were crows in the cypress forest, and only crows. They perched in deathly silence amid the dense cypress branches, occasionally flapping their wings and flying away with a fluttering flap flap flap. In this strangely quiet forest, that sound was exceptionally eerie—so eerie it filled one's heart with irritation.

But Ning Chang'an did not care. He sat against a pitch-black boulder covered in moss, spitting out a small mouthful of water every so often.

His sword never left his hand, for unease still shrouded his heart.

Flap flap flap!

A flock of crows suddenly took flight. Not only did they fly up, they began cawing loudly.

Ning Chang'an slowly sat upright and began to listen carefully.

It was not that these crows could not caw; they simply did not caw easily. Whenever they cried, it often meant bad news. At the very least, it meant they had seen or sensed something that frightened them.

Ning Chang'an heard a rhythmic rustling. It was faint, but the intervals were evenly spaced. It was the sound of running footsteps. Only a master of lightness skill could move with such precise and light steps.

In the past, he would never have noticed it in the slightest.

The rustling grew louder and louder, like a great snake slowly drawing near.

Ning Chang'an abruptly rose to his feet and spun around. What he saw was not a great snake flicking its tongue, but a pair of eyes—a pair of wild, wolfish eyes filled with strange, cold light.

They were Fierce Wolf's eyes. He was currently crouched halfway atop a large boulder, staring at Ning Chang'an with an expressionless face and cold eyes.

Ning Chang'an said in a low voice, "Are you a wolf or a dog?" He truly could not believe someone had actually tracked him here. Unless they possessed a dog's sense of smell, they could not have followed his scent.

Fierce Wolf's gaze grew colder, taking on the color of slaughter. He said in a deep voice, "A man! Did you think no one could keep up with you?"

"Indeed," Ning Chang'an said. He was extremely confident in his speed, more than three times faster than before. If not for the water in his stomach, his depleted strength, and the wounds covering his body, he was confident he could have surpassed even the speed Fierce Jackal had displayed while dealing with Lu Feixin. Besides, he had been exceedingly careful along the way and left very few traces. An ordinary person could never have tracked him. He already knew this man was no ordinary person. How could someone who carried that chair together with Fierce Jackal be simple?!

Fierce Wolf sneered disdainfully. "A blacksmith used to swinging a great hammer will never be able to wield an embroidery needle well."

Ning Chang'an carefully considered the meaning of those words, then looked toward the ground he had crossed. The cypress leaves beneath his feet showed subtle differences. Some of the rotten branches underneath had been turned over. If one did not inspect them carefully, one would never notice such tiny distinctions.

He immediately realized where the problem lay.

Although he had been meticulous with every step he took—when his foot came down, the withered cypress leaves would sink and then spring back, erasing his footprints—his strength had increased too greatly, causing him to lose his usual precision in controlling himself.