Chapter 537: A Letter Arrives at Ten Thousand Willow Garden
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(I modified a few sentences at the end of the previous chapter; it doesn't affect the story, so you can read it or skip it. Next chapter at eight in the evening.)
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Su Li left behind seven letters.
He asked Xu Yourong to forward two of them to Chen Changsheng, left one letter for his own daughter, and another for the child at the blacksmith shop in the town at the foot of Li Mountain who had just begun learning the sword. He also prepared a letter for Qiushan Jun, but Qiushan Jun calmly refused it.
The remaining two letters were sent through the most ordinary postal routes to two different places.
One of them was delivered to a manor outside Hanqiu City.
Ten Thousand Willow Garden, within which were planted thirty thousand cold-resistant twisted willows.
Zhu Luo was the sect master of the Heartless Sect, the clan head of the Zhu family, an old friend of the late emperor, and one of the Eight Winds and Rains. Any one of these identities could grant him a life beyond ordinary imagination. This manor, which still retained traces of green even in the harsh winter, was proof of that.
Today, there was a guest in this manor: a very fat old man. He sat in a round, oversized armchair, his corpulent waist spilling over the edges like water overflowing a riverbank, making the bright yellow belt around it stand out even more clearly.
This fat old man had a kindly face and benevolent brows. His squinting eyes were filled with the calm and gentleness of one who had no worldly ambitions, and his face was full of good cheer. He looked like the most ordinary, wealthy old man in the countryside. But the fact that he could sit face-to-face with a great figure like Zhu Luo suggested his identity and background were far from ordinary. Today, aside from the ten thousand cold willows and the accumulated snow, there was not a single other person in the manor. This was likely related to the fat old man's visit, and of course, also to the letter lying on the table between them.
"When will that woman die..." The fat old man began with a smile, but when he reached the word "woman," he paused unexpectedly, and the smile on his face vanished for an instant. The word "woman" was so soft it was almost inaudible. "The arrangements are made above the starry sky. As for when to go to the capital, we must wait for news."
Zhu Luo frowned slightly, seeming less than satisfied with this statement. He said, "No matter how you look at it, our strength is still insufficient."
The fat old man sighed with emotion. "To accomplish a great deed, one must have great power. The White Emperor and his wife will certainly sit on the sidelines. In truth, our best choice was still Su Li."
When Su Li's name was mentioned, neither he nor Zhu Luo glanced at the letter on the table.
Zhu Luo was silent for a moment, then said, "Su Li is indeed very strong."
Back in Xunyang City, Su Li was severely injured and never fought him. But Zhu Luo had to admit that, in terms of pure power, it would be hard to find anyone in the world stronger than Su Li.
The word "power" in this conversation naturally did not refer to ordinary strength as common people understood it, but to the purest, most terrifying combat capability.
"The Black Robe schemed for years. On the Demon Domain's Snow Plains, over a hundred thousand iron cavalry and wolf riders, over a dozen demon generals, and three major powers joined forces to suppress him, yet he still escaped. Then, on his journey south, he went from a cripple to reforging his sword, no doubt gaining new insights. That ten-thousand-zhang peak has probably drawn another foot closer to the Starry Sea. He is indeed incredibly strong."
The fat old man sighed again. "Back then, many people, including myself, believed that only he had the best chance of killing that woman. But he refused to do it. Now, if we had his help, the possibility of killing that woman would increase by another thirty percent. Yet, he chooses this very moment to leave."
Zhu Luo said expressionlessly, "At the request of His Holiness the Pope, I tried to kill him in Xunyang City. Why would he ever join us? And why would he send me this letter?"
While they spoke, they hadn't looked at the letter on the table, but their minds had been fixed on it the entire time. Now that it was brought up, their gazes finally fell upon it.
In the quiet winter garden, no unusual changes occurred. Yet, amidst the slightly cold wind, the faint sound of clashing weapons and galloping horses seemed to echo.
Looking at the letter, the fat old man's eyes narrowed into slits, like cuts made by a knife in a steamed white bun. Within those slits, a fierce light blazed, filled with extreme vigilance.
Then he looked up at Zhu Luo, as if asking, should this letter be opened or not?
Zhu Luo's expression was very grave. For a long time, he did not speak.
The fat old man could sense the strangeness within the letter. With his level of cultivation, he could naturally see through it as well.
He knew that a sword was hidden within this letter.
The letter was from Su Li, so the sword was naturally Su Li's sword.
Although Su Li held an extremely high status and seniority in the cultivation world, and was universally acknowledged to have an inconceivably powerful sword path, compared to the Eight Winds and Rains and the Four Sages, he was ultimately a junior. Moreover, for various reasons, his name had never been included in their ranks.
By sending such a letter to Zhu Luo, he was telling the entire continent that whenever he wished, he could cut down any so-called Eight Winds and Rains with a single sword strike.
If this had been hundreds of years ago, during his prime—no, even decades ago, or even just a year ago—faced with this letter, Zhu Luo would have smiled dismissively, casually torn open the envelope, and witnessed the sharpness on the paper. That would have been the proper way to uphold the prestige of the Eight Winds and Rains.
But now, he hesitated.
Because he had been severely wounded in Xunyang City, and had still not fully recovered.
Those injuries came from Wang Po's iron blade, Liu Qing's hidden sword, and the ten thousand streams of light from Chen Changsheng's scabbard. The most serious wound came from the Holy Maiden's thousand-li dash.
More importantly, as Wang Po had said in Xunyang City, he was already old.
Su Li had also mockingly mentioned that now, he could die, but he could not be defeated in battle.
He was the towering tree of the Heartless Sect and the Zhu Clan.
All the people of Tianliang Commandery, except those of the Prince of Liang's manor, needed his protection.
What if he lost?
The winter garden was very quiet. The tens of thousands of cold-resistant twisted willows in the distance patiently awaited the arrival of spring in the cold wind.
The fat old man was also very patient, simply watching Zhu Luo calmly.
No one knew how much time passed before Zhu Luo finally made his decision. He took a deep breath.
A fierce wind suddenly rose in the winter garden. The tens of thousands of twisted willows swayed in the wind, as if cheering, or as if waving their hands in fear.
No trace of hesitation could be seen on Zhu Luo's face any longer, only indifference and cold pride.
The former strongest human, who had once charged into the Snow Plains with a single sword, how could he be intimidated by a letter, even with old injuries?
His hand fell upon the letter, steady and firm. Then he tore it open.
A sword light burst forth from the tear in the envelope, casting a pale glow upon his face.
That sword light was so bright that even the winter sun above the garden seemed to dim. The twisted willows seemed to emit a faint mist. Though it was broad daylight, the surroundings felt as if dusk had fallen.
A sword light appeared in Zhu Luo's pupils. This sword light did not come from the envelope, but from his own world.
With a clear, ringing sound, the Moonlight Sword leaped from its sheath, slashing towards the sword intent erupting from the envelope.
Countless deafening clashes rang out. A gale swept through Ten Thousand Willow Garden. The tens of thousands of cold willows swayed violently.
A bright moon came from the north, hanging in the sky above the winter garden, as if to drive away the night that had not yet arrived.
The sword intent from within the envelope paid it no heed. In an instant, it blazed with brilliant light. Everything it touched, whether real or illusory, burst into flames!
The cold willows ignited instantly. The frozen pond shattered. Countless flames shot into the sky, like firebirds.
The Golden Crow Leaves Li Mountain!
The bright moon suddenly dimmed!