Qingyun Dao missed his strike and drifted away into the distance, leaving a curse hanging in the air. Xing Yan froze in astonishment at his words and immediately stopped pursuing him.
Qingyun's transformation into a dragon and his ensuing strike had taken no more than an instant, truly as swift as lightning and sparks, a hare springing up and a falcon swooping down. Even now, many of the maids and guests blown off their feet by that furious gale still had no idea what had happened and were clinging desperately to the pillars beside them.
Yet quite a few people on Pillow-the-Stream Terrace understood perfectly well that, although Qingyun Dao's lightning-fast attack had seemed directed at the young man surnamed Zhang, his words and actions before and afterward suggested that his true target was the manor's master, Bai Shijun.
Now, having narrowly escaped death, Bai Shijun was both frightened and furious. He hurled bitter curses in the direction Qingyun had fled:
"You wretched Daoist! You wretched Daoist! I, Bai Shijun, treated you as an honored guest, and now you dare look for an opening to murder me!"
After cursing bitterly for a while, Bai Shijun suddenly seemed to remember something. He glanced at Xing Yan and Ju Ying before him, let out a long sigh, and said helplessly:
"Alas, only today have I truly understood what it means that a tall tree catches the wind, and that the tree longs for stillness, but the wind will not cease. Though I have always governed benevolently and exercised the utmost diligence, lawless villains still spend their days plotting to harm me!"
By now, the Peerless Young Master, Bai Shijun, saw everything with perfect clarity. Qingyun Dao had infiltrated his household with the sole intention of taking his life; his usual servile words