Chapter Forty-Five: Together into the Netherworld

Yang Wenhao and Yilin stepped out from the thicket and onto the stone shore.

At this moment, the music had come to an end, and sitting opposite Liu Zhengfeng was Qu Yang of the Sun and Moon Sect. Perhaps it was precisely because of Qu Yang that Liu Zhengfeng’s family had been destroyed.

“So it’s Nephew Yang and Nephew Yilin,” Liu Zhengfeng greeted them with a gentle smile upon seeing Yang Wenhao.

“Uncle Liu,” Yilin responded.

Yang Wenhao was just about to speak when a voice resounded in his mind.

“Ding... Plot mission triggered: Kill Fei Bin, who is pursuing Liu Zhengfeng. Mission reward: two hundred points, with an additional reward of the ‘Swordsman’s Ballad’ score.”

At that moment, a man in a long crimson robe approached, a sword in hand, laughing coldly as he looked at Liu Zhengfeng, who sat upon the ground. “A year from today will be the anniversary of your death.”

Qu Yang glanced at Fei Bin, his expression darkening, clearly ready to intervene. But Liu Zhengfeng held him back.

“Where possible, one should show mercy. Do you not understand that?”

These sudden words gave Fei Bin pause. He looked over to find two people standing there, one dressed in black, the other in pink.

Upon recognizing them, Fei Bin sneered, “So it’s you. If I’m not mistaken, you must be Yang Wenhao, the one who killed Yu Canghai’s disciple. I never thought someone from Mount Heng would be seen with you.”

“That’s right, you’re not mistaken,” Yang Wenhao replied with a slight nod. Fei Bin was from the Songshan Sect, and there had been no attempt to conceal any of this, so it was not surprising he knew.

Fei Bin’s face turned cold. “A nameless brat—get out of my sight! Don’t think that killing a spoiled disciple gives you the right to posture before me.”

With a calm voice, Yang Wenhao replied, “Is that so? I truly wish to learn from you.”

“Nephew Yang, don’t be reckless!” Liu Zhengfeng tried to stop him, but before he could finish his sentence, Yang Wenhao vanished from where he stood.

In that instant, Yang Wenhao employed the Great Shift technique and, in the blink of an eye, appeared before Fei Bin. To Fei Bin’s astonishment, a longsword materialized in Yang Wenhao’s hand, and he brought it slashing down at Fei Bin.

A crisp clang of steel rang out. Fei Bin staggered back several steps, his footing unsteady. Glancing down at his chest, he found a straight line of blood oozing from a fresh wound—a sight both chilling and grisly.

Fei Bin glared at Yang Wenhao. If not for his quick reflexes, that wound would have been at his throat rather than his chest. Such ruthless lethality from one so young—Fei Bin now regarded Yang Wenhao as someone who must die. With a twist of his sword, he lunged at Yang Wenhao.

“Don’t think that just because you’ve wounded me, you’re my match. Even uninjured, you wouldn’t be,” Yang Wenhao said with a cold snort. His steps became unpredictable, his swordplay ghostly—each strike a blade seeking Fei Bin’s heart.

At first, Fei Bin could barely keep up, but as the fight wore on, the continuous bleeding from his wound sapped his strength. Despite his anger—every attack coming so close, yet always just missing—he felt an insurmountable gulf between them.

Yilin, worried, wanted to help but was held back by Liu Zhengfeng. “Don’t go. You can’t help.”

“But Brother Yang...” Yilin watched anxiously as Yang Wenhao dueled Fei Bin.

Qu Yang spoke calmly, “Can’t you see this young man’s strength far exceeds Fei Bin’s?”

Yilin was puzzled. “But why hasn’t the fight ended, then?”

“It’s normal you can’t see it. I didn’t, at first,” Qu Yang replied. “Look closely—his swordplay has grown ever more adept as the fight progresses.”

“I understand now.” Yilin finally realized—Yang Wenhao was using Fei Bin to practice his swordsmanship.

With each exchange against Fei Bin, Yang Wenhao’s mastery of the sword soared.

Gradually, Fei Bin too realized he was being used as a training dummy. Rage flared within him, but powerless against Yang Wenhao’s superior skill, he could only endure. Every move was suppressed, every attack stifled.

“Ding... Congratulations, host. Mastery of ‘Taiji Swordplay’ has reached consummate proficiency.”

Almost simultaneously, Fei Bin, weakened by his injury and failing strength, miscalculated and received another sword wound from Yang Wenhao.

Coughing blood, Fei Bin glared at him. “You little wretch, using me as your training partner!”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” Yang Wenhao feigned surprise.

Seeing Yang Wenhao’s nonchalance, rage surged in Fei Bin’s chest, and he spat out another mouthful of blood.

“If that’s the case, then it’s time to end this,” Yang Wenhao said, advancing steadily toward Fei Bin.

Step by step, Yang Wenhao closed in. Flustered, Fei Bin pleaded, “We are not enemies! If you spare me, the Songshan Sect will not pursue this.”

“Pursue?” Yang Wenhao’s smile was cold. “And what if your Songshan Sect does pursue it? I wish they would.”

“You—” Fei Bin began to retort, but before he could finish, a sword pierced his heart without warning.

Yang Wenhao withdrew his blade, and Fei Bin collapsed with a thud, lifeless.

“Ding... Congratulations, host. Plot mission completed. You have received two hundred points.”

Sheathing his sword, Yang Wenhao was joined by Qu Yang and Liu Zhengfeng.

Liu Zhengfeng’s cheeks regained a hint of color. “Nephew Yang, you are truly remarkable. Even Fei Bin of Songshan is no match for you. But in killing Fei Bin for my sake, I fear you may invite trouble. Perhaps it would be best to let the world believe I was the one who slew him.”

Yang Wenhao shook his head. “No need. The Songshan Sect is arrogant and overbearing—I’ve long grown weary of them.”

He was, in fact, looking forward to their revenge. If the world believed Liu Zhengfeng was responsible, what excitement would remain for him?

“If Nephew Yang is so confident, I’ll say no more,” Liu Zhengfeng conceded. Yang Wenhao was proud and willful, acting as he pleased. It was clear to Liu Zhengfeng that friendship was wise, enmity unwise.

Qu Yang now stepped forward. “Young man, I am deeply impressed by your skill. I have a request, and I hope you will accept.”

Yang Wenhao’s interest was piqued.

“You see, Brother Liu and I will soon depart this world together, and we wish to entrust this melody to someone worthy.”

(End of chapter)