nyslfriends Chapter 97: Righteousness Bravely Braves Against the Wind and Rain, Single-handedly Rescuing a Loyal
Chapter 97: Righteousness Bravely Braves Against the Wind and Rain, Single-handedly Rescuing a Loyal
Chapter 98: The banner of righteousness braves the storm, a lone rider rescues a loyal subject! (3k)
Damn it.
Old Master Han roared and swept his spear horizontally, forcing the two men back.
But he knew in his heart that he couldn't hold on for much longer.
His weakened qi and blood were a fatal flaw. If it were a one-on-one fight, he might be able to take down one opponent, but now he was facing two opponents, with Nalan Yuanshu watching him like a hawk. He was almost certain to die.
"ah!!"
Soon, screams of agony from the disciples could be heard from the side.
A young disciple was sent flying by Nalan Yuanshu's "Horse-Probing Palm," spitting blood as he flew straight toward the courtyard wall.
This disciple was named Li San, and he was usually very clever.
He was in mid-air, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted, and he was about to crash into the wall and turn into mincemeat.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.
"Lu Cheng—that's it."
Last time Master Lu visited the martial arts school, the president treated him with great kindness and exceptional courtesy. Given this favor, would he—would he be willing to lend a hand?
Driven by the instinct to survive and clinging to that one and only hope, Li San unleashed his potential at this critical juncture of certain death.
Instead of letting himself crash into the wall, he slammed his feet against the wall just before impact.
Taking advantage of the terrifying force of Nalan Yuanshu's palm strike, plus his own dying kick, he...
"Whoosh."
He actually scaled over the ten-foot-high wall.
"Thump."
Li San fell into the muddy water outside the wall, feeling dizzy and disoriented, but ignoring the pain, he scrambled to his feet.
"Qianmen Street — Lu Residence — Only Master Lu can save us."
He pulled a bottle of strong liquor from his pocket, the leftovers from his usual sneaky drinking, smashed it on the ground, and lit it with a tinderbox.
"boom!"
Flames shot into the sky outside the wall.
This is to send a message to the fellow students at the martial arts school: someone has broken through!
Then, dragging his broken leg, he rushed into the rain like a madman.
Qianmen Street, Lu Residence.
Rainwater flowed down the eaves and gathered into a stream in the yard.
The study was brightly lit.
Lu Cheng was wiping the large white wax spear.
Although the Green Dragon Crescent Blade was more imposing, he was used to this polearm; it was lighter, easier to handle, and allowed him to kill faster.
"Thump, thump, thump."
-
The urgent banging on the door echoed in the rainy night; it was the sound of someone risking their life to break down the door.
"Master Lu, Master Lu, help me!"
Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, opened the door and saw a man covered in blood with a shuriken stuck in his back, who collapsed onto the threshold with a thud.
"I am—Li San from the Simin Martial Arts Club—"
"Japanese people — Nalan family — stealing pictures — murder —"
"Old Han—Old Han can't hold on much longer—"
After saying those words, Li San tilted his head and completely fainted.
"What?"
In the main hall, Zhou Daikui and Shunzi both jumped up in surprise.
"Are the Japanese attacking the Shimin Martial Arts Club?"
"And that Nalan Yuanshu?!"
Lu Cheng, carrying a large gun, walked out of the study.
He glanced at the unconscious disciple, his eyes instantly turning icy cold.
Simin Martial Arts Club.
President Liu not only gifted him the painting but also mentored him.
If it weren't for that [White Tiger Diagram], he would still be struggling with the conflict between Ming Jin and An Jin, and he wouldn't have reached his current level.
I haven't had a chance to repay this favor yet.
"Chengzi".
Zhou Daikui grabbed his sleeve, his old face full of fear.
"We can't go."
"You're still fasting? This Guan Yu drama isn't over yet. You've already broken the 'silent meditation' once. If you start killing again..."
"That's a very bad omen."
"Besides, there are Japanese and the Nalan family there. They've definitely set up an ambush for you to walk into."
Lu Cheng stopped in his tracks.
He looked at Zhou Daikui, then glanced up at the swirling wind and rain.
The sound of his voice seemed to drown out the sound of wind and rain.
"Tanker."
"A play is ultimately performed for people to watch."
"If everyone is dead and their backbone is broken, no matter how good the play is, who is it for?"
He paused, gently withdrew his hand from Zhou Daikui's grasp, and straightened the hem of his long robe, which had been ruffled by the wind.
"Besides, I'm the kind of person who sings about Guan Yu."
"How loyal and righteous was Lord Guan? If his benefactor were in trouble, and his compatriots were slaughtered, yet I cower in this courtyard, seeking only to live in ignominy, then I will—"
"What face do you have to pretend to be that god?"
Lu Cheng paused, gazing at the heavy rain curtain in the distance.
"And it's time to settle the score with Lu Feng as well."
Done.
He held the gun with one hand.
He strode into the rain.
The rain was getting heavier and heavier.
The cold rain stung my face.
He carried the white wax spear in his right hand and ran wildly down the empty street.
He was extremely fast.
【Ghostly Steps】Unleash its full power.
-
He was like a swallow flying close to the ground; with a light touch of his toes on the puddle, he had already darted two or three meters away.
Before the water could even ripple, the figure had already disappeared into the vast rain and mist.
The [Toad-Catching Strength] within his body was operating wildly, and the muffled croak of the frog was drowned out by the sound of rain.
heat.
A scalding heat surged through my body.
That was murderous intent, and also fury.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
The rain, like whips, lashed against the bluestone of the long street, splashing up a misty white smoke.
The golden light in Lu Cheng's eyes grew brighter and brighter, as if it could burn through the rain curtain that filled the sky.
He wanted to walk to the end of that rain curtain.
Go to the point where gratitude and enmity lie.
If Guan Yu were alive, he would surely have stepped into that place of blood and fire.
The wind picked up.
The gun tip was raised, pointing towards the end of the long street.
There, the murderous intent lurking beneath the lights could already be faintly heard.
Simin Martial Arts Club.
It was now a living hell.
The rain that night was too heavy and too cold.
The rain couldn't wash away the stench of blood on the ground; instead, it made it even more glaring. The training ground, which was originally covered with yellow earth, was now a muddy mess, with dozens of corpses lying haphazardly.
There were martial arts disciples wearing white coats who had died before they even graduated.
Several black-clad ninjas were also found dead, their bodies severed from their heads, as they had been pierced through the heart by a spear thrust during their final, desperate attack.
Under the main hall corridor.
-
Old Master Han leaned against the large vermilion pillar, his chest heaving violently.
His usually neatly pressed long robe was now just shreds, and his body was covered with seven or eight deep, bone-revealing blood grooves, which were forcibly dug out by Wanyan Lie's bear-like paws.
His left arm fared even worse, slashed across by Yagyu Shizuun's swift blade, leaving only bare bone.
He is old.
A fist is most vulnerable when young and strong, for when energy and blood are depleted. He had understood this principle his whole life, but only tonight did he truly grasp its meaning.
"That's enough, everyone stop."
Suddenly, Yagyu Seiun raised his hand.
His cold eyes swept over the surroundings, his voice icy.
"Old man, your kung fu is not bad, but your disciples and grand-disciples are not so good."
Grandpa Han suddenly looked up, his eyes wide with fury.
In the courtyard, the black-clad ninjas had surrounded the dozens of surviving martial arts disciples, with gleaming samurai swords held to the necks of each young disciple.
"Where is the map?"
"I asked Liu Shengjingyun calmly."
"If they don't speak, they'll all die. This Simin Martial Arts Club will be wiped out tonight."
"you----"
For the first time, Grandpa Han's gun was so heavy that he couldn't lift it.
The spear that had been with him for forty years, having tasted the blood of bandits and faced countless heroes, now trembled at the tip, unable to draw even half a complete circle.
He could die, he could die in battle before the ancestral tablet.
But these kids—they are the roots of the Xingyi School in Beiping!
If he were to perish here, how would he face his ancestor Liu Dekuan in the afterlife?
"Grandmaster, don't worry about us, let's fight these Japanese devils!"
A young disciple screamed through tears, his neck already slashed open by a blade.
"puff."
A ninja swiftly brought down his blade, and the disciple who had shouted instantly fell into a pool of blood.
"No!!!" Old Master Han roared in grief and indignation.
"Give me the picture. They live, you."
For the first time, a hint of pity appeared in Yagyu Shizuku's gaze. "One can also die with dignity, as a martial artist."
Grandpa Han looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant, and his once straight spine finally bent.
"Stop—I'll give it to you."
He gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse.
"The picture is in the hidden compartment behind the ancestral master's tablet."
"Release them."
Upon hearing this, a hint of joy flashed in the eyes of Nalan Yuanshu and Wanyan Lie.
But a cold glint flashed beneath Old Master Han's lowered eyelids.
There was indeed a diagram in that hidden compartment, but there was also a "Dragon Beard Needle" mechanism left behind by the ancestor Liu Dekuan.
Anyone who is not a master of internal energy and has cultivated the "Way of Utmost Sincerity" will be turned into a hedgehog by the poisoned flying needles once they touch it.
Of this group, only Yagyu Shizuku might be able to escape; the others would almost certainly die if they were touched.
"Ancestral tablet?"
A glint of light flashed in Yagyu Seiun's eyes.
He looked at Wanyan Lie beside him, and then at Nalan Yuanshu.
"Wanyan Jun, go and get it."
Wanyan Lie wasn't stupid either. He chuckled, his fleshy face twitching. Although he seemed rude, he was actually quite shrewd.
"I'm not good at this kind of delicate work."
As he spoke, he turned to look at Nalan Yuanshu with a fake smile on his face.
"Your Highness, let's give you the credit."
Nalan Yuanshu's expression darkened slightly.
But as he looked at the dark, gaping main hall, his desire for the [White Tiger Painting] overwhelmed his doubts.
"Hmph, a bunch of cowards."
Nalan Yuanshu snorted coldly, straightened his white clothes that were soaked by the rain, and twirled the red coral bracelet in his hand.
"Since you two seniors are so modest, then this junior will accept the offer without hesitation."
He walked step by step toward the main hall. Although he spoke casually, his muscles were tense, and he held back the power of Bajiquan, ready to deal with any unexpected situation.
Just as Nalan Yuanshu was about to step over the threshold, and Old Master Han's heart was in his throat, preparing to activate the suicide trap—
"Whoosh—!!!"
A sharp, piercing sound suddenly rang out from outside the high courtyard wall without warning.
The sound was so fast, as fast as lightning tearing through the night sky, even drowning out the thunder.
Liu Shengjingyun's eyes, which had been half-closed, suddenly opened.
Wanyan Lie felt a chill run down his spine, an extreme sense of danger instantly enveloping him. Without thinking, he darted to the side.
Nalan Yuanshu, who was about to enter, changed his expression drastically, stopped in his tracks, and retreated hastily.
"Duh!!"
A large white waxwood spear, like a divine punishment descended from heaven.
Carrying rain and thunder, it flew past Nalan Yuanshu's nose and landed hard on the hard bluestone steps at the entrance of the main hall.
"boom."
The bullet blasted a large crater into the bluestone.
The flying pebbles stung Nalan Yuanshu's face.
The butt of the spear was still vibrating violently, emitting a "humming" dragon's roar, like an angry white dragon blocking the way in front of everyone.
"Who?!"
A drop of blood oozed from the tip of Nalan Yuanshu's nose. He wiped it away with his thumb, still somewhat shaken, and looked up at the courtyard wall.
If he hadn't retreated quickly, that shot would have pinned him to the threshold!
All that could be seen was the two-zhang-high wall.
At that moment, a person was standing quietly.
The wind and rain raged fiercely, but the person seemed to be in another world.
He held a green-ribbed oiled paper umbrella in his hand.
The umbrella was tilted slightly, blocking the wind and rain. Rainwater slid down the ribs, forming a string of glistening beads.
Beneath the oil-paper umbrella stood a pristine, moon-white robe. In this blood-soaked, muddy rainy night, the white stood out so starkly, so incongruous, yet so—exquisitely elegant.
Those eyes peeking out from under the umbrella.
Golden light shimmered, cold as a star.
He looked down at the demons and monsters filling the courtyard, his eyes devoid of any emotion, only showing indifference to life.
"Two against one."
"One is a half-step into the Transformation Realm, and the other is a Japanese sword saint."
"They bullied an old man whose health was failing and then threatened him with the lives of a group of children."
Lu Cheng slightly raised the oil-paper umbrella in his hand, revealing his cold and stern face.
"Is this what you call—martial arts?"
"Is this what you Nalan family considers respectable?"
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