Return Inn

Ghost Shadow is a phantom of the night, a bizarre, bloodthirsty phantom. In its hands are two razors, black razors with edges like a sliver of white, flashing with sharp, cold light. Its greatest pleasure is to slowly cut open its prey's blood vessels, watching them bleed and flee in a frenzy. It starts with the smallest vessels, taking its time, following a strict procedure, until the prey is near death from blood loss. Only then, at the peak of their terror, will it slit their throats and finish them off.

A gentle pull of the razor, a pleasant melody rings out, a life covered in its own blood, trembling in fear, is extinguished. What a beautiful process?!

In Ghost Shadow's hands, the two razors flip rhythmically, cold light flashing everywhere.

Suddenly, it vanished again.

Chang'an felt a chill flash across his left and right waist, followed by something wet flowing out.

A腥味, the smell of blood, filled the night wind.

Chang'an sneered, "Ghost Shadow, is this all you've got? Do you know how Ghost Hand died? I stabbed him a hundred and eighty times, all in one go."

Ghost Shadow's eerie voice echoed, "You're starting to get scared, I can feel it. You think you still have a chance and refuse to give up. Heh heh, you're no different from anyone else..." Ghost Shadow's voice sounded as if it were blown by a chilling wind, cold and omnipresent.

Chang'an's footsteps were unhurried, firm, and steady.

He had walked ten zhang.

Yu Fu could save him, so he had to alert Yu Fu. The prerequisite was that Ghost Shadow couldn't kill him before Yu Fu made her move. Therefore, he had to get as close to the inn as possible.

Every step came at a price, a price paid in blood.

Behind the roof ridge of the Return Inn, two figures stood eerily. One was Yu Fu, her face pale, being held hostage. The other wore a black mask, their gender indistinguishable, gripping Yu Fu's pulse points. Both watched Chang'an from afar. The masked person's eyes were deep and cold, while Yu Fu was on the verge of tears from anxiety. But Yu Fu couldn't even move; with her pulse points held, she couldn't muster any strength.

Ghost Shadow flickered in and out of sight, striking again. Chang'an's back was sliced open, blood gushing out.

Chang'an's body swayed, but he kept walking. A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

Ghost Shadow said coldly, "If you can walk a hundred zhang, I'll let you go!"

Chang'an laughed, "It's a deal!"

Ghost Shadow let out a cold laugh and disappeared again, a lingering, spectral presence.

It would strictly follow its established steps for killing, that was beyond doubt.

Chang'an had already walked thirty zhang.

Tears streamed from Yu Fu's eyes, a silent, sorrowful cry. She had cried before, but never had she felt so desolate and helpless. When she cried before, it was out of grievance, and a gentle word from Chang'an holding her hand would make her smile. How could she watch Chang'an be tormented before her eyes and remain indifferent?

But she couldn't move, and she had also been struck with the mute acupoint.

Reality was often so cruel, forcing one to watch what they wanted to protect be destroyed before their very eyes. Weakness only existed when a hand held you captive. You, forced into cold indifference, could never be your true self, nor do what you most desired.

The masked person glanced at Yu Fu, their eyes flashing. They spoke in a muffled, hoarse voice, "I won't let Ghost Shadow cut his throat."

Yu Fu shook her head desperately, her eyes filled with resentment.

The masked person said, "Give up, I won't let you go. He deserves this..."

Yu Fu's eyes spoke, blinking coldly.

The masked person said, "Chang'an will tell you who I am. I won't tell you!"

Chang'an had walked sixty zhang.

He saw Yu Fu and the masked person on the roof of the Return Inn, and his heart ached.

No matter where Yu Fu was, he could always sense her. His heart ached because Yu Fu's heart ached; it was simple. He didn't want Yu Fu to suffer. So, he smiled, a genuine smile.

A person who had lost too much blood never looked good, no matter how they smiled.

Yu Fu shed more tears, biting her lip until it bled.

His wrist had already been cut open.

He finally walked eighty zhang.

Ghost Shadow flashed, and Chang'an's ankle artery was severed. Ghost Shadow looked at Chang'an, finding him still walking, showing no signs of falling, a smile on his face, no fear.

Ghost Shadow licked the blood from its blade, coldly astonished, "It seems you are indeed a little different. However, at the ninety-ninth zhang, your throat will be slit. Can you walk one more zhang?"

Chang'an slowly said, "You wait and see! If I live, you will surely die."

Ghost Shadow seemed to have swallowed a fly and said nothing more.

In the night, Ghost Shadow seemed non-existent yet omnipresent, giving off an incredibly chilling feeling, truly no different from a ghost, cold, unpredictable, appearing and disappearing without a trace.

The ninety-ninth zhang!

Ghost Shadow moved.

The dazzling cold light flashed on the razor.

It could no longer contain its desire to taste the sensation of slitting Chang'an's throat. Chang'an was too special, giving it too many surprises, and it believed that feeling would be exquisite.

After killing so many people, it was like chopping vegetables, devoid of any feeling, numb. Occasionally, slicing into flesh did indeed bring unexpected sensations.

The masked person also moved.

A bright moon appeared in the sky, two moons in the night sky.

That was a curved blade—the Bright Moon Blade.

Yu Fu also moved.

Like a young swallow returning to its nest, she soared through the air, a sword grasped in her hand.

The moonlight was the first to envelop the scene, beautiful and chilling. In the bright glow, Ghost Shadow was instantly exposed, shrieking, "Bright Moon Blade, Crescent Moon Blade..."

Ghost Shadow was startled, but the razor in its hand was steady. The target remained unchanged as it slashed down, aiming for the major blood vessels on either side of Chang'an's jaw.

Clang!

A jade-colored sword suddenly appeared before Chang'an's throat, its crystalline jade hue flowing, warm and gentle. Ghost Shadow's razor struck the body of the sword precisely, while the jade sword rested flat against Chang'an's throat.

Ghost Shadow's razor could no longer cut.

It let out a sudden, agonizing scream, its chest already split open.

Its heart, liver, and lungs were visible through the gash, blood pouring out like a torrent.

A masked figure appeared before Ghost Shadow, holding a curved saber, shaped like a crescent moon, bright and cold. There wasn't a trace of blood on it, terrifyingly clean.

The masked figure was the Bright Moon Blade.

A legend of the martial world.

The Bright Moon Blade suddenly said, "If you can walk a hundred paces, I'll let you go. Same game!"

Ghost Shadow grinned, its withered body, shrouded in black, shaking. It suddenly let out a distorted laugh, "Ahaha, Bright Moon Blade, you've lost... Ahaha... Martial world legend, Bright Moon Blade's light, see it and die... This myth is broken today... This bet, you've lost for sure... I will win..."

Ghost Shadow's figure flickered, scrambling and crawling. It dragged a trail of blood down the entire street, running far more than a hundred paces. Finally, it collapsed onto the ground, a twisted smile on its face, muttering one last sentence, "I've broken the myth... Heh heh..." Then it died with satisfaction.

Yu Fu supported Chang'an, and Chang'an wiped the tears from Yu Fu's face.

He felt too much pain to smile anymore. Instead, he looked at the masked Bright Moon Blade and said bitterly, "Do you have to torment me like this?!"

The Bright Moon Blade rasped, "This is what you deserve."

Chang'an didn't understand the meaning of these words.

The Bright Moon Blade, surprisingly wearing a pair of white leather gloves, held a slip of paper between its fingers and threw it to Yu Fu, saying, "If you want to keep him alive, quickly send him to this location."

With that, the figure was gone, leaving behind a long shadow.

Chang'an said, "Take me there! I don't know how I offended this eccentric martial world legend to make him want me to suffer... Fu'er, don't cry..."

He forced a smile and then fainted, his face as pale as paper.

Yu Fu was greatly alarmed. Spotting the address on the note, she embraced the plump Chang'an and sprinted away, a bizarre sight.

The constables of Danyang Prefecture, always arriving a step late, rushed to the blood-stained scene, only to find Ghost Shadow's corpse on the ground. The empty street was devoid of even a stray dog or cat. The captain looked furious; this was the second incident tonight. They had been busy almost all night. However, when he turned over the body and saw Ghost Shadow's face, he immediately jumped up in shock, then regained his composure and said, "Brothers, pack it up. I'll treat you all to drinks another day."

The constables all smiled, excited and thrilled.

Why would the handsome captain treat them to drinks? To share the money, of course.

One constable, quick-witted, exclaimed, "Boss, this person looks like... like Ghost Shadow?!"

The captain slapped him hard, sending the constable spinning around, dizzy. Then the captain's scolding rang out, "What kind of bullshit is that? How can you tell what a headless corpse looks like?! You've got a foul mouth. You'll be the one running errands to collect the bounty, and you'll only get half the share... Remember this lesson, you idiot. Don't you see how we old timers get rich?! Cheating, swindling, what the hell do you know... Making a profit, you stupid pig, don't you get it? You think you're smart? You don't understand..." The handsome captain lectured and smacked the "smart" constable fiercely, while the other constables laughed gleefully.

Chang'an didn't know how long he had been unconscious. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw the back of an old woman selling braised beef and wine.

The old woman wasn't cutting meat; she was cutting herbs. Her knife was as swift as lightning, kacha kacha, yet there was no sound of the blade hitting the chopping block. Her knife wasn't touching the chopping block at all. The chopping block had been used for decades, yet it didn't have a single knife mark on it.

Chang'an immediately smelled a strong medicinal scent and found himself lying in an oversized bathtub. He was so weak he couldn't move an inch, only his eyeballs could dart around.

The old woman's knife suddenly stopped, and she said happily, "You're awake!" Her voice was kind.

Chang'an coughed a few times, unable to speak. His throat felt like it was filled with sand. He could only open his eyes and look around, realizing he was in a kitchen. The kitchen was old, clean, and simple. Through the open door, he could see a courtyard. In the middle of the courtyard was a vegetable patch, and beside it stood a soapberry tree.

It was dusk, the sun setting.

Han Yu suddenly entered carrying a bowl of white rice porridge. Seeing Chang'an's moving eyes, her brow relaxed. She smiled gently and said, "Chang'an, drink some porridge first to warm your stomach!" She sat down gracefully on a high stool beside the bathtub and began spoon-feeding Chang'an the porridge.