Chapter 309: The Siege
At both ends of the street paved with long, rectangular bluestone, two people walked toward each other, with Chen Ping'an and the chess stall situated directly in the middle.
On Chen Ping'an's left was a woman wearing a white gauze veil. She was dressed in a stone-green robe with a red brocade wrap tied with a jade belt, and she cradled a pipa in her arms. Her figure was alluring, swaying with grace.
On the right was a man eight feet tall, bare-handed and bare-chested, his muscles knotted and bulging, yet he wore a pair of pink trousers.
This pair of man and woman didn't look like ordinary townsfolk who would keep company with roosters and dogs.
The man was murderous, his fighting spirit barely concealed. He stared at the fellow holding a vermillion wine pot. This man was slightly taller than most sturdy young men of Nanyuan Kingdom. Though his features were delicate and refined, he could hardly be called a boy anymore.
The man laughed loudly. "Outsider, my name is Ma Xuan, from beyond the border. Some busybody gave me the nickname Pink Vajra. Yesterday, someone spent a thousand taels of gold to buy your head. They said your martial arts are unfathomable, that despite looking young and tender, you're most likely an old monster like Yu Zhenyi. So I called my lover to join me. Today, you either kill yourself to keep a whole corpse, or I smash you to pieces with my fists!"
The man's voice was loud, his words booming. At the chess stall, the crowd erupted and scattered in all directions, abandoning chess pieces and benches alike. This was a street killing—who would dare to watch the excitement? According to the superstitious elders of Number One Scholar Alley, the history of the Nanyuan Kingdom capital had seen several battles between martial arts masters, turning everything upside down, reducing several great neighborhoods to rubble. Afterwards, at least several hundred households wore mourning white.
Through the thin veil, watching the townsfolk flee like birds and beasts, the woman curled her lips. Her right hand began to pluck the string, intending to kill with sound and sever heads.
But the woman suddenly stopped her plucking motion and smiled charmingly. "Since this young gentleman doesn't want me to liven things up, this servant won't add to it."
It turned out that the white-robed outsider had fixed his gaze on her. She felt that if she dared to touch the string, he would abandon the Pink Vajra and come after her first.
She had come to help her old flame earn a thousand taels of gold, not to bear the brunt of a tough fight. The reason she agreed to this deal was that she and the Pink Vajra, Ma Xuan, were a rare perfect pair in the martial world. One fought in close quarters, the other harassed from afar. It was flawless. Even against any master outside the top ten, with their combined efforts, even if they couldn't win, they could still escape.
Chen Ping'an found it somewhat baffling. Why target him? First, that fairy, Fan Wan'er, going on about a banished immortal. Now someone was offering a thousand taels of gold for his head. And in broad daylight, these two reeking of blood and murder jumped out. If he hadn't intervened, those fleeing townsfolk would already be dead.
Compared to the imposing giant Ma Xuan, Chen Ping'an paid more attention to the woman.
That exquisite pipa made of a single block of rosewood held secrets in Chen Ping'an's eyes. Near the strings, traces of blood aura and thick, ink-like death qi intertwined, spreading and flowing outward.
Yet there were no vengeful spirits or fierce ghosts on the pipa. Chen Ping'an found this strange. Based on his experience traveling through Treasured Vase Continent and Parasol Leaf Continent, with so many souls having died under this pipa, the resentment should have coalesced into something eerie and bizarre, like at Flying Falcon Fort.
The scrawny little girl sat on the stool by the wall, muttering, "No one can see me... no one can see me..."
As for why she hadn't fled into the distant alleys with the others, she had hesitated earlier, but she felt it was safer to stay here.
Chen Ping'an asked, "If I offer two thousand taels of gold, will you tell me who is behind this?"
The woman lowered her head, covering her mouth with a charming laugh. Because she was holding the pipa, this action pressed her bosom rather tightly.
Ma Xuan glanced at her, his eyes burning with desire. He cursed with a laugh, "You slutty woman! Haven't seen you in years, and you see a handsome man and can't walk straight! Once this job is done, let's find a place to fight. Can you cut me a deal? A hundred taels each time—who in the world can afford that?"
Chen Ping'an sighed. "No room for negotiation?"
The man strode forward, laughing heartily. "Let's talk after I twist off your head. I'll tell you everything I should and shouldn't say. How about that?"
The woman with the pipa walked slowly. When she was about a hundred paces from Chen Ping'an, she stopped, gently flexing her wrist, poised to strike.
Ma Xuan suddenly stamped his foot. The bluestone ground beneath him shattered with a bang. His massive form instantly closed to within less than three feet of Chen Ping'an. His pink trousers clung to his thighs, flapping loudly due to the speed.
Only three feet away, and the fellow, seemingly stunned, still didn't move. Ma Xuan sneered. "Daring to make my lover all hot and bothered—you deserve to die!"
Without holding back, his fist suddenly accelerated, smashing toward Chen Ping'an's head.
Chen Ping'an's thoughts raced, but he didn't delay in dodging the punch. His body leaned backward lightly as if floating, his feet rooted to the ground.
This pure martial artist seemed to have quite the nerve. Facing an enemy, he had the leisure to chat? Wasn't he afraid that once his breath ran out, in the gap between the old and new, his opponent would seize an opening?
The punch missed. Ma Xuan sensed trouble and immediately dispersed his qi throughout his body. Though he was a master of external martial arts, caution made him fear that even his iron-hard physique might not hold up. He had no choice but to abandon his offense and switch entirely to defense. Qi flowed through all his acupoints, and his skin gleamed as if coated with a layer of golden lacquer.
Chen Ping'an kicked upward, striking Ma Xuan's abdomen. The man was blasted into the air with a bang.
With a twist and a roll, Chen Ping'an straightened up abruptly. He shifted his steps slightly, swaying left and right, just barely dodging four "strings" that had condensed into lines.
The woman used the techniques of plucking, rolling, and picking. Her right hand moved so fast it dazzled the eye, yet the pipa remained utterly silent. However, in front of her, a few glimmers of crystalline light suddenly appeared and vanished instantly.
Chen Ping'an drifted and darted across the street, each time just evading the icy threads shot from the pipa. Those razor-sharp threads crisscrossed in the air chaotically, like dozens of powerful bows firing volleys of arrows, shrouding the surroundings.
Ma Xuan used a heavy body-drop technique and slammed to the ground. He formed both hands into hammers and viciously pressed down on the street.
Clearly, the woman was also watching Ma Xuan's movements. She timed it precisely—when Ma Xuan landed, the threads surging from the pipa slowed slightly to avoid hindering his attack.
Chen Ping'an vanished from his spot. The burly man blinked. His fist momentum couldn't be withdrawn in time, so he smashed heavily into the street. With arms like an ape's, Ma Xuan dropped to his knees, adopting a half-crouch. His fist struck the ground, shattering bluestone slabs that flew in all directions.
Chen Ping'an appeared beside Ma Xuan. One hand pressed down on Ma Xuan's shoulder, slightly increasing the force. He pushed Ma Xuan down with a roar, forcing his knees into the bluestone slabs.
Ma Xuan bellowed in rage, trying to lift that palm that weighed a thousand jun. But the man pressed again, crushing him until he sat on the ground. The golden sheen on his skin, which signified his external martial art mastery was at the pinnacle of the martial world, began to dissipate on its own. The qi in his body started to flow chaotically beyond his control. Ma Xuan was terrified, his guts trembling, his soul scattered.
After this "sparring,"
Chen Ping'an finally discovered a truth. This martial artist, who followed the path of external martial arts, had pure qi that was far too scattered.
The imposing aura and fighting spirit pouring out of him were real—his actual martial cultivation realm—but it was like a house whose beams weren't made of good wood. On an ordinary sunny day, there would be no problem. But once a real storm hit, it couldn't hold up and would collapse.
A single breath, mixed and chaotic, seeking quantity over quality, didn't even come close to "purity." Instead, it was like a martial artist who had taken the path of a qi refiner.
The woman holding the pipa completely stopped her finger movements. A plaintive sigh came from behind her veil.
The disparity in strength was too great. This time, she and Ma Xuan had truly hit an iron wall.
This seemingly young white-robed gentleman was most likely a reclusive grandmaster infinitely close to the "Top Ten Under Heaven."
A demon cult member? Another heaven-blessed prodigy after Old Devil Ding? Someone who would unify the martial world?
Or an elite disciple carefully trained by Old Immortal Yu Zhenyi? A trump card to counter Old Devil Ding's reemergence?
The situation was a tangled mess.
The pipa woman's heart was equally chaotic.
She and Ma Xuan shouldn't have gotten involved.
On the wall, someone lightly clapped. "Impressive, impressive! No wonder you were placed on the list temporarily. You really are someone worth dealing with seriously."
The woman looked up and instantly felt as if she had fallen into an ice cave. Squatting on the wall was a man with a stiff smile. His appearance was perpetually unchanging, like he wore a clumsy, cheap mask that had taken root and would never be removed for the rest of his life.
Smiling Face, Qiantang.
Among those outside the top ten, this man was arguably the most troublesome master under heaven, perhaps without equal. He was also the most bizarre heretic. He didn't slaughter innocents indiscriminately, but if he encountered an expert of the same level, he would pester them relentlessly. Xue Yuan, the Eight-Armed Spirit, who was once in the top ten but had dropped out due to age and declining fist arts, was still a dying camel bigger than a horse. One tyrant from the three demon cult sects had nearly died under his Eight-Armed Divine Ability. But facing Smiling Face, he was entangled by Qiantang for an entire year, nearly driven mad.
Smiling Face squatted on the wall, picked up a clump of dirt, tossed it lightly, and chuckled. "If you're still deliberately holding back your strength, you'll die. Not at his hands, but at mine."
"Right, Ma Xuan? And you, big-breasted woman? By the way, what's your name again?"
Ma Xuan, whose shoulder had been pressed down several times by Chen Ping'an's palm, suddenly exploded with an overwhelming surge of aura. His momentum soared far beyond before.
The woman holding the pipa also put on a set of fake nails that gleamed with a faint light. No longer showing off, she began to pluck the pipa strings heavily.
Ma Xuan threw a ferocious backhand punch.
Chen Ping'an extended a palm in front of him to block the punch. Using the momentum, he slid backward, his feet gliding lightly like two chess pieces on a mirror's surface.
Between Ma Xuan and Chen Ping'an, two thumb-thick, emerald-green threads had just crossed, leaving cracks in the walls on both sides.
If Chen Ping'an had retreated even a moment later, he would have been directly hit by this ambush.
Ma Xuan turned around, first glanced up at the still-smiling figure on the wall, snorted coldly, and glared at the unharmed Chen Ping'an. He spat blood onto the ground. The kick Chen Ping'an had sent him flying with had already injured his internal organs. The large man warned the woman behind him, "Bitch, if you don't use your real skills, we won't be getting out of this easily today."
The woman gritted her teeth. "It's all your fault! When was there ever such hard-earned money in the world!"
Ma Xuan grinned. "How was I supposed to know this gold was so hot? Weren't we told we'd be dealing with Old Devil Ding? I thought this guy was just small fry."
Chen Ping'an's attention was mostly on the Smiling Face on the wall.
He was testing them, or rather trying to see the depths of this martial world.
They, in turn, were probing Chen Ping'an's true background.
Smiling Face on the wall clapped again. "Interesting, interesting. Did everyone think the same thing?"
At that moment, at the intersection of the alley, a dashing young man walked out slowly. He wore an apricot flower in his hair and carried two blood-dripping heads in his hands.
Hairpin Flower Boy, Zhou Shi. He stood at the corner, looked at Chen Ping'an from afar, smiled, and lifted the heads in his hands, then casually dropped them on the ground.
Behind him, a stunning woman in wooden clogs sauntered out. She slowly walked past Zhou Shi. When she stepped from the dirt onto the bluestone, it made a crisp tapping sound. She too carried two heads in her hands and threw them onto the street.
She smiled bewitchingly. "Young master, my master's master says, if you hand over that wine gourd, the child can live. Otherwise, that family of five will be reunited. These days, you've been wandering all over the Nanyuan Kingdom capital. Clearly, you're a kind-hearted person. Can you bear it?"
Inside the house deep in the alley, an old man wearing a silver lotus crown sat on a stool, basking in the sun. Beside him was a child, trembling, face covered in tears and snot.
The old man smiled gently. "Don't be afraid. Your talent is excellent. I plan to make an exception and take you as my disciple. Who knows, you might become the next demon cult leader. Why are you crying? You've lost a few relatives, but you have a chance to own an entire martial world. You've read some books, so you should be able to calculate this clearly. If you keep crying and distract me from trapping that little one in the house, I'll just have to kill you too."
The old man looked into the distance. "Yu Zhenyi, Zhong Qiu. Let me be honest with you. I, Zhou Fei, have already agreed to protect him. I advise you to kill Tong Qingqing and Feng Qingbai first before coming after me. Besides, this outsider brings an extra opportunity. Killing me isn't that important anymore. Do you really think I'm tempted by a pair of arhat golden bodies? You underestimate me, Ding Ying. But I can tell you a great piece of news. Killing that man on the street won't just be ten items anymore. Apart from one life, plus that wine gourd, and the legendary immortal flying sword in the house behind me, that makes at least thirteen."
The old man said lazily, "How about we both change our strategies accordingly? Kill that kid, and we'll have a lot more options."
He seemed to have received a definite reply and snorted.
On the street, Chen Ping'an looked around and said in a deep voice, "Stop trying to manipulate my state of mind."
Both Smiling Face and Hairpin Flower Boy found it baffling. Why would he suddenly say that?
Only a middle-aged man standing in the shade of a tree in the distance, holding a sword, had been dozing. Now he opened his eyes, no longer lazy, and sneered. "Just as I thought."