Wuqiu

Xiahou Xuan waited for a moment in Liu Wuqiu's room. Poisoned, he couldn't do anything but watch Huangfu Xiong, who was unconscious beside him like a dead pig, and curl his lips in annoyance.

If he weren't poisoned right now, he'd really want to thrash him.

He was worried sick, while this guy was sleeping more soundly than anyone.

Just then, a rustling sound came from outside. Xiahou Xuan's expression sharpened, and he heard a low voice say, "It's me, Wang Anfeng."

With a soft creak, the wooden door was carefully pushed open. Wang Anfeng, who had just left not long ago, slipped inside. Xiahou Xuan frowned slightly and whispered, "Why are you back? Is the guard outside strict?"

"No..."

Wang Anfeng shook his head and explained what he had just thought of to Xiahou Xuan. The latter's eyes lit up slightly, and he whispered, "Bring me that wine!"

Wang Anfeng unsealed the jar of wine. Xiahou Xuan forced himself to get up and dipped a finger in the liquid, tasting it. His eyes lit up, and he said, "It's right, it's this!"

Hearing this, Wang Anfeng also breathed a sigh of relief, his back already covered in cold sweat. With this matter resolved, a strong curiosity about Liu Wuqiu emerged.

He had left the antidote, clearly not wanting to truly harm those noble family disciples, but he had written the location of the antidote in a coded message. Who did he not want to know? It could only be the Four Symbols Pavilion.

This meant that there should be many people from the Four Symbols Pavilion around him.

A revenger would definitely hide themselves well.

So, was the "Liu Wuqiu" he saw, greedy for money and lust, enamored with power, the real Liu Wuqiu?

For some reason, he suddenly thought of the first opponent he had fought. He had purely used external fist techniques to fight, concealing the truth that he was also skilled in lightness skills, in order to achieve a final kill in the third round. He had used two matches to tell a story, making him believe he couldn't use lightness skills.

The rumors of Liu Wuqiu being a coward, a lecher, and greedy for money and lust had persisted for sixty to seventy years.

Then... was this a plan he had laid for sixty years?

Wang Anfeng's heart suddenly shuddered, his scalp tingling. The seemingly simple old man now seemed shrouded in a shadow, impossible to see clearly. Beside him, Xiahou Xuan took the medicinal wine and coughed twice, saying, "You saw it too?"

Young Master Xiahou's expression was complex as he whispered, "How could a person who has lived for eighty years not understand the logic that we understand?"

"He probably wants others to think he doesn't understand."

"A Go board has nineteen lines horizontally and vertically, with a total of 361 points, nine star points. You and I are currently in the center of this game. It's a pity that you and I are not the players, but bait."

Wang Anfeng remained silent, his hand resting on the window.

Liu Wuqiu, dressed in extremely luxurious clothes, stood respectfully beside another middle-aged man. The night wind was a bit cold, ruffling Liu Wuqiu's pale hair. Looking down, it was pitch black, just like the winter when he was fifteen.

At that time, his clothes weren't as good as now, but they were thick. Yet, it was still cold, a cold that seeped from the depths of his heart, which was why he always wore more clothes than others.

"Wuqiu, you messed up this time."

The black-robed man spoke, his voice as loud as a bell, shattering Liu Wuqiu's reverie.

"The last time the Pavilion Master ordered us to act was sixty-eight years ago. The world was not yet settled, and you had not yet joined the Pavilion. Our Pavilion had been lying in wait for a long time. You made such a huge mistake when we finally acted."

"It was precisely because the descendants of the Xiahou and Huangfu families were here that I personally appeared to retrieve that treasure, yet you lost them."

The black-robed man was not as old as Liu Wuqiu. In the martial arts world, older people were often respected, not because of their martial power, as any powerful skill could eventually fade. However, the wisdom gained from years of battles was comparable to the best martial arts manuals. Yet, towards Liu Wuqiu, his words were full of disdain and reprimand.

Such a person, who feared death and was greedy for wealth and pleasure, was looked down upon even by him.

Liu Wuqiu hunched his back, his old face flushed, his eyebrows furrowed together, and he said obsequiously, "Altar Master, this, this can't be blamed on this old man, he... the Xiahou secret treasure... the high-grade Qi-Protecting Armor..." Above the sky, the night wind was urgent. Liu Wuqiu's face was full of timidity and mumbling, making it impossible to hear clearly. The black-robed man first heard of the Xiahou secret treasure, and then the high-grade Qi-Protecting Armor. A bit of greed arose in his heart, and he subconsciously moved closer, frowning, and said, "Liu Wuqiu, are you too old to speak clearly?! Speak louder!"

Liu Wuqiu shivered and raised his voice slightly, "That Young Master Xiahou's personal protective treasure... the Xiahou Noble Family's protective treasure..."

If you like this book, remember to add it to your bookshelf to avoid not finding it next time.

He was still speaking somewhat tremblingly. The black-robed man, impatient, grabbed Liu Wuqiu. Suddenly, a cold light flashed, and a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He roared and threw the old man away fiercely, but it was too late. Liu Wuqiu flung his arm in the air, and streaks of cold light shot out, instantly illuminating the sky like stars. In a flash, thirty-seven vital acupoints on the black-robed man's body were pierced, blood gushing out. The Altar Master didn't even have time to scream before he fell straight down.

Liu Wuqiu then lunged forward, tearing at the secret treasure. Its outer shell instantly shattered, but inside was just an ordinary jade talisman. The old man's expression faltered slightly but didn't change much. A voice came from afar, long and peaceful:

"It was hard on you, being a lackey for over sixty years. I thought you had forgotten, but after having someone cast a divination, you left a hand."

"It seems that after more than sixty years, you still haven't let go."

As he spoke, an old man in a green robe, with wide sleeves and a loose belt, stepped through the air. Although he was an old man, his face was ruddy and unwrinkled. His white hair from a few years ago had now turned black. This was a characteristic of the Upper Three Ranks Profound Connection Realm, which only those with exceptional talent and tenacious will could achieve. He flipped his right hand, revealing a bloody Eight Trigrams, emanating an ominous aura that made one nauseous.

Liu Wuqiu looked at him, his expression gradually changing. His back, which had been hunched for sixty-eight years, slowly straightened. His white hair danced in the wind. Looking at the bloody Eight Trigrams, he said softly, "It's a pity I still couldn't hide it from you."

"Couldn't shatter this piece of jade."

The old man sighed and said, "You did hide it from me. I didn't expect someone could act for a lifetime, acting until all their peers had died, and still remember the grudges from their youth. However, I was uneasy and had someone cast a divination."

"A normal person's seventy years of cultivation can only reach the Middle Three Ranks. You were stuck here for twelve years. I have already reached the Upper Three Ranks. You are no match for me. If you go back, I can forget about today's events, considering you've been honest your whole life."

Liu Wuqiu shook his head, drew a long sword from his right hand, its sharpness piercing. The tip of the sword lightly touched the ground, and he said softly, "But I can't forget."

My old friend from back then, I'm the only one left.

The boy who was too clumsy to even block a sword for someone else back then is now white-haired, but how could I forget the way he looked when we first met as youths?

Liu Wuqiu strode forward, his long sword in hand, beginning his final charge. The difference in cultivation, after entering the Upper Three Ranks, rendered ordinary hidden weapons useless. The Daoist Sect calls them True Men, the Confucian scholars call them Great Scholars, and the military strategists call them Great Generals. Martial artists outside of the three teachings can already establish their own sects.

He had wandered this martial world for seventy to eighty years. How could he not know that victory and defeat had already been decided?

But for Liu Wuqiu, who couldn't even practice fist techniques properly and was foolishly inflexible, he had no other choice.

I accepted your promise, and I will never forget it in this life.

Sixty-eight full years have passed, and I finally see this person, this jade, once more.

His seemingly unattainable dream was now before him, waiting to be realized.

The old man in green sighed softly, waving his sleeve. Sword energy filled the void, like the Heavenly Emperor opening his armory. It represented a cultivation of pure extremity and ultimate sharpness, scattered like stars. Under the cold light, Liu Wuqiu recalled seeing that brilliant starry sky back then.

Beneath that starry sky, he buried Mei Chuxue, settled the parents of Sister Qingli, placed all his money on the wooden table of Brother Wang, watered the flowers that the beautiful maiden loved, and then, bowing and scraping, he suppressed his arrogance and lived like a dog for sixty-eight years. He sat at the head of Willow Catkin Villa, clad in clothes reeking of money. If he missed her... he would look down, look at Wangxian County, where she once was.

Sixty-eight years... it's time to go back...

"Hahahahaha!!"

Liu Wuqiu, holding his long sword, laughed heartily at his opponent, a true master of his generation. He charged forward fearlessly. Amidst the sharp sound of air being torn apart, streaks of sword energy continuously ripped through his body, blood flowing everywhere. But this pain was nothing compared to the thrill of removing his mask and facing his enemy head-on!

Against such a master, in the face of absolute strength, all schemes and calculations were utterly useless. He held his only usable long sword diagonally and charged forward step by step. Suddenly, his body swayed, and the tendons in his right leg were severed, but he seemed unaware, staggering forward nonetheless, until the green shirt was before him, long sword in hand, thrusting forward fiercely.

But the sword opposite him was faster. A sharp sword energy from the old man's right index finger pierced Liu Wuqiu's abdomen. Yet, he seemed oblivious. He raised his left arm, drawing on his internal energy, and a series of explosive sounds, like ice shattering in spring, erupted. The sword energy penetrated deeper, but he seized the opportunity, punching the old man's abdomen. A surge of energy erupted, shattering the Blood Jade Eight Trigrams into pieces.

Amidst the master's furious roar of shock and anger, Liu Wuqiu's lips curved slightly, a hint of youthful defiance in his eyes. His vision blurred, but he seemed to see that bright and graceful maiden from years ago again.

"Little Liu, if I die here, what will you do..."

"I will avenge you."

"Pfft, you're so clumsy, how can you avenge me... You should find a good girl and live well..."

The maiden's voice gradually weakened. She slowly closed her eyes in his arms, blood drenching her white dress. Mei Chuxue, Mei Ru Xue. When he first met her, he was the most inconspicuous, weakest, and foolish boy. On the misty riverbank, the maiden's lips curved slightly as she held her umbrella over his head.

He never imagined that a single glance would fill his entire life.

The Blood Jade Eight Trigrams crumbled into dust. Liu Wuqiu's right arm was stripped bare of its clothes, sword energy piercing his body, leaving him covered in wounds. Yet, his eyes blazed like a tiger's, and he let out a long, hearty laugh.

I accepted your promise, and I will never forget it in this life. Sixty-eight years have passed, and I have had no other desire than revenge. This is Liu Wuqiu.

With a long laugh, sword in hand, he roamed the world. His ambition swallowed the universe, his chivalrous spirit endured wind and frost. The world called him a wandering knight; his sword was heavier than his life, and his life lighter than a feather!

The moonlight fell into the courtyard. All was silent, yet a tiger's roar suddenly rose, echoing between heaven and earth.

Sixty-eight years have passed since Mei Chuxue's death. That foolish, clumsy boy from back then, the white-haired old man who lost his entire life, stands on this lonely peak, covered in a hundred wounds, and with one punch, enters the Upper Three Ranks.