Chapter 122: Just Kill Me Already
Chapter 122: Just Kill Me Already
For reasons he couldn’t explain, Yan Peng had the distinct feeling that the miasma he was releasing through his pores was silently dissolving into the void, and he couldn’t tell whether it was having any effect.
In the agonizing silence of that brief pause, he suddenly heard the young man across from him cough twice.
An opening! Yan Peng didn’t stop to think. Taking advantage of the distance still between the gorgeous young woman and the escort leader, he spun around, unleashed his movement technique, slipped between two guards who had just recovered from the miasma, and bolted for the nearby mountain forest.
A cold drizzle hit his face and jolted him to his senses, making him yearn for two more legs.
The forest was almost within reach, but before any sense of relief could rise in his chest, the scene before him shimmered faintly, as if it were turning into an illusion.
He saw the radiant young woman and the young man in the scholar’s headscarf.
One in front, one behind. He was caught between them.
Saber in hand, Yan Peng watched the young man smile faintly and say to him,
"It’s too crowded in there. Out here works just fine."
Works fine for what? Before Yan Peng could even think the question through, the sword was already reflected in his eyes. It was crystalline and translucent, with a thread of deep red hidden within.
With his life on the line, he threw everything he had into the fight. But the young man’s swordwork had an uncanny, unfathomable quality. Every strike was agonizing to deal with, and he had to give it everything just to block.
Only a dozen or so exchanges in, Yan Peng was drenched in sweat, his body drained and his true qi sluggish, as if he had battled someone for three hundred rounds.
Ding!
His saber was deftly swept aside, and the translucent sword tip came to rest against his brow.
All hope draining away, Yan Peng let his saber fall and resigned himself to death.
But then the young man withdrew his sword and stepped back.
"..." Yan Peng was at a loss.
The young man turned to the stunning young woman on the other side of Yan Peng.
"Senior Sister, your turn."
The young woman drew Autumnwater with a ring and opened with a courteous thrust toward Yan Peng.
Yan Peng turned to the side and instinctively raised his saber to block.
After that opening exchange, the young woman’s swordwork abruptly accelerated. It was swift as a sudden downpour and fast as falling stars. Every strike had Yan Peng soaked in sweat, and he had to push himself to the absolute limit just to keep up.
He could no longer spare even the effort to release miasma deliberately, and could only let the toxic vapors accumulate naturally through the evaporation of his sweat.
As he continued to parry, Yan Peng finally recognized what sword arts he was facing.
The Seven Swords of Candlelit Night and the Celestial Stars Sword Art!
Flying Star Piercing Dawn came streaking over. Already drained of his strength, Yan Peng had no time to burn his primordial essence before that brilliant sword light nicked his throat.
Gasp! Gasp... He gasped for breath. Despair closed over him again, and the will to survive guttered out.
He had nearly exhausted himself to death.
"Junior Brother, what do we do with him?" the young woman turned to ask the young man.
The young man had been watching intently and turning things over in his mind. He said with a thoughtful look, "Sheathe your sword, Senior Sister. I’ll go one more round with him."
The young woman asked no questions. She put away her sword cleanly and stepped back, withdrawing from the faint cloud of toxic miasma surrounding Yan Peng.
Yan Peng came to his senses and dimly grasped what was happening.
They are using me as a sparring dummy?
Taking turns, no less!
Once wasn’t enough. Now there’s a second round!
Rage surged through Yan Peng and his eyes went red.
A warrior can be killed, not humiliated!
Even if I don’t walk away today, I’ll make you pay for it!
Yan Peng ignited his dantian’s primordial essence, and true qi flooded through him rapidly, his entire being surging with a manic energy.
Taking the initiative, he slashed heavily at the young man with the saber laced with a faint black miasma.
The black miasma melted into the darkness of the night, nearly impossible to detect.
But the moment the miasma reached the young man’s vicinity, it dissolved into nothing for reasons Yan Peng couldn’t fathom.
Yan Peng sensed something was wrong, but in the middle of a fight he had no room to think about it. He could only throw his raw fighting spirit into trying to cut his way through.
Strangely, he felt his saber work flowing exceptionally well this time—smooth and sharp, each stroke better than the last, climbing gradually to a peak.
Watching from the side, Zheng Zhuxi noticed nothing unusual at first. But as she kept watching, something struck her as wrong.
Her junior brother was using the moves of the Celestial Stars Sword Art one by one—Flying Star Piercing Dawn, Northern Dipper Killing Sword, Bright Milky Way, Wandering Star Overhead, Stars Falling Through the Night—all techniques he had only recently mastered.
The Celestial Stars Sword Art was known for being deep, complex, varied, and intricate, far more so than the Seven Swords of Candlelit Night. Many of its moves had their own specific situations, and it would be almost impossible to see all of them in a single fight. Yet Ding Songyan had brought out every one of the over dozen moves he had learned in recent weeks.
It was as if Yan Peng were cooperating with his sword practice, feeding him exactly the openings he needed.
She watched a little longer, and understanding gradually came to her.
No, Yan Peng doesn’t want to cooperate. He is being forced to!
Every one of Junior Brother’s sword strokes is maneuvering Yan Peng into responding with exactly the move he wants, allowing him to smoothly flow into the next one!
Is this what he took from his first bout and from watching my fight with Yan Peng? He already has such a deep read on Yan Peng’s moves and habits... Or does he have some fundamental method that lets him derive these patterns? With speculations in mind, Zheng Zhuxi watched Ding Songyan and Yan Peng fight with growing intensity.
Yan Peng was so absorbed in the wonderful sensation of his saber work approaching its peak that he forgot he was being powered from burning his primordial essence, and forgot that the young man across from him had shown not the slightest sign of strain.
Time slipped away, and Yan Peng was suddenly hit by a crushing wave of weakness.
The backlash from burning his primordial essence had arrived.
Ding! Unable to hold on any longer, his saber was effortlessly swept away and that beautiful, crystalline sword came to rest between his brows once more.
Yan Peng saw the young man still wearing that thoughtful look, as if he wanted to go again. Body and spirit utterly broken, Yan Peng gritted his teeth and said, "Just kill me already!"
This was worse than death!
Like a mouse caught and toyed with by a wildcat!
The words had barely left his mouth when Ding Songyan partly granted his wish, releasing a burst of force from the sword tip. Yan Peng’s vision went black and he toppled into the mud.
Zheng Zhuxi, who had been projecting just enough true qi to keep the winter drizzle off, glanced over and asked with puzzlement, "Junior Brother, why have you knocked him out again?"
The man was a wanted criminal with over a hundred innocent deaths to his name, but did it need to go this far?
Ding Songyan turned his head and smiled.
"To enter his dream, of course, and find out where he’s hidden his wealth. He wouldn’t have carried all his silver on him.
"Spirit channeling can get answers too, but nothing’s as vivid and concrete as a real dream."
Zheng Zhuxi tersely acknowledged, though she knew this was only half the reason.
Knowing her junior brother as she did, the other half was simply that Ding Songyan was always looking for a chance to test out any new technique he had mastered.
The young woman asked with mild curiosity, "You went into his dream earlier and guided him into curing everyone of the poison. You must have seen what item he was after?"
From the earlier exchange, it was clear Yan Peng had come for a specific item, not the entire caravan’s valuables. A lone thief couldn’t carry that much away anyway.
"Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass." Ding Songyan gazed at the drizzling winter rain and said thoughtfully, "There seems to be something more going on behind this."
"Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass?" Zheng Zhuxi’s eyes stirred slightly. "Is this connected to the Huangliang Sect? Is one of their members preparing to attempt entry into the Dharma Realm?"
Fuyu Mountain was most famous for its Fuyu Immortal Grass. According to the Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas, it resembled a sunflower with many stems, bore red blossoms and yellow fruit shaped like an infant’s tongue, and consuming it freed the mind from confusion and manipulation.
In other words, this red-blossomed, yellow-fruited plant with fruit shaped like an infant’s tongue could grant immunity from confusion and not be misled. Resolute was a quality of character that many Dharma Realm grandmasters lacked. A martial artist at the perfected Great Proliferation Realm with no other shortcomings could, after consuming Fuyu Immortal Grass, almost certainly become a grandmaster within a year.
It had become a divine medicine coveted by countless martial artists. By now it was extremely rare, and the plant itself possessed a kind of spiritual awareness that allowed it to burrow through the earth and relocate on its own.
Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass shared the same origin as the Immortal Grass but was of lesser potency. The Resolute state it granted lasted only twelve hours.
For a martial artist hoping to use it to break into the Dharma Realm, this made it largely useless, unless they simply wanted to experience what Resolute actually felt like.
For these reasons, Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass was not considered enormously valuable. Most martial artists would only go out of their way to obtain it if they knew they were about to face a technique that could cause confusion, or if they were preparing to fight a Celestial Maiden School expert.
Recently, though, in preparation for heading south to Qisong Prefecture and making contact with the Huangliang Sect, both Zheng Zhuxi and Ding Songyan had carefully gone through the relevant sect records. They had found that a Huangliang Sect disciple cultivating the Great Dream of Three Thousand Years who reached the peak of the Great Proliferation Realm and wished to enter the Dharma Realm and become a grandmaster had to not only sense the formless aperture formed by the void’s qi, but also pass through a Dream Tribulation.
If the cultivator’s state of mind was insufficient, Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass became key to ensuring they did not lose themselves in the Dream Tribulation. Among comparable substances, it was the easiest to find, though that didn’t mean it was common.
So the moment she heard "Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass," Zheng Zhuxi wondered whether some perfected-Great-Proliferation-Realm member of the Huangliang Sect had already sensed the void qi and was preparing to face their Dream Tribulation.
"Maybe." Ding Songyan considered it and said, "If it really is connected to the Huangliang Sect, this gets interesting. Not many people would know the sect was quietly having this caravan gather Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass and deliver it to Qisong Prefecture. It would have to be either a long-standing enemy or someone from within."
Before Zheng Zhuxi could respond, Ding Songyan said with a smile, "Senior Sister, once we get our hands on Yan Peng’s savings and split it fifty-fifty, there could be over 10,000 taels. What do you plan to do with your share?"
Zheng Zhuxi looked at Yan Peng sleeping in the mud, thought for a moment, and said softly, "Miasma Poison Saber has preyed on so many caravans. A lot of people were left without parents in childhood, or without anyone to depend on in old age, because of him. I should track them down and divide my share equally among them, so they have a little more to live on..."
Ding Songyan turned his head and saw that his senior sister’s expression was perfectly matter-of-fact.
After a few quiet beats, he gave a chuckle.
"Count my share too. I’m not short of anything, so there’s no use keeping it."
Zheng Zhuxi’s dimples appeared with a gentle smile, and her voice lifted slightly.
"But the bounty silver is money we earned ourselves. That we keep."
"Mm-hm." Ding Songyan smiled and turned his gaze back to Yan Peng.
His face was growing more pointed, and blue-black scales were spreading rapidly across his skin.