Kuángdāo was aghast. He quickly brought his saber across his chest, but faster still was a blur of white silk emerging from the woman’s sleeve. It shot out, straight as an arrow aimed at prey, piercing the air. Before his saber had even reached waist height, the silk had already lunged towards his heart.
Kuángdāo’s face froze in terror. Time and space seemed to warp. Everything in Nán Shīyǐng’s eyes slowed. Kuángdāo stood not far behind him. The silk, grazing Nán Shīyǐng’s cheek, brushed past. Nán Shīyǐng reached out, plucked a pair of chopsticks from a nearby holder, and with pinpoint accuracy, clamped onto the silk weaponized by the woman and aimed at Kuángdāo. With a tightening of her fingers and a flick of her wrist, she effortlessly drove the chopsticks, along with the silk, into the table.
The flow of time resumed its normal pace. Everything that had happened occurred in an instant. The onlookers hadn’t even seen what this frail, handsome, and elegant young man had done. Their gazes were fixed on the chopsticks plunged into the table before him, and the silk caught around the sleeve of Mǔdān, one of Gōngzǐ Xún’s four attendants. They felt an overwhelming sense of absurdity.
Since stepping into the inn, she had done little else but apologize, appearing weak and easily bullied. Moments before this incident, everyone still thought of her as a soft persimmon they could easily crush. Who would have imagined that this soft persimmon was, in fact, a solid gold nugget disguised as a fruit? Anyone who tried to bite it would surely lose all their teeth.
It was utterly preposterous!
Kuángdāo had thought he would meet his end today. The shock and terror on his face had not yet subsided. He touched his chest, finding it perfectly intact. He could even feel the powerful, thrumming beat of his heart. From his vantage point, he could only see the upper half of the chopsticks inserted into the table, and the figure he had called a “young man” – who still maintained a gentle demeanor, showing no trace of anger – appearing so utterly frail in his eyes.
When had such a figure emerged in the jiānghú?
Not just him, but everyone present was filled with confusion. How could someone capable of deflecting Mǔdān’s sleeve silk remain unknown in the martial world?
“You court death!”
Mǔdān, seeing her sleeve silk coiled around chopsticks and plunged into the table, her eyes flashed with ferocity. With a twitch of her hand, she channeled her internal energy into the silk. With a sudden sweep of her arm, Nán Shīyǐng quickly pulled Xiǎo Màn’s wrist back. Almost simultaneously, the entire table exploded, shattering into over a dozen pieces that flew in all directions.
Xiǎo Màn drew a dagger from her embrace, wielding it so swiftly it became a blur, deflecting all the flying wooden fragments back.
A white whip-like shadow struck, parting the scattering wood shards and heading straight for Nán Shīyǐng.
Mǔdān’s sleeve silk was as fast as lightning, cruel and vicious, aimed directly at vital points. In stark contrast were Nán Shīyǐng’s actions. She seemed unfazed, leisurely pulling her sister behind her, and then calmly taking the dagger from her hand. Everything was done with such effortless grace, as if she didn’t take Mǔdān seriously at all.
Mǔdān had never been so disrespected. Her anger flared, and her movements became even more fierce.
A golden glint flashed deep within Nán Shīyǐng’s profound pupils. She raised her hand, flicked her wrist, and gripped the dagger in reverse. Lifting it high, she thrust downwards. To everyone’s disbelief, she sliced Mǔdān’s sleeve silk into two.
However, the torn silk, like a severed earthworm, had merely become two from one. The sleeve silk, more pliable than a scholar’s nine-section whip, was so flexible it could entwine or twist. Unless her sleeve silk was torn to shreds, it would only double its attack power.
The sleeve silk, again split by the dagger, attacked Nán Shīyǐng from both sides.
Nán Shīyǐng, pulling Xiǎo Màn, weaved and dodged, still unable to shake off the sleeve silk. She was forced to raise the dagger, using the junction between its blade and hilt to catch the right side of the silk. However, she failed to block the left side, which was rushing towards her heart.
“Die!”
Mǔdān shouted, as if she could already see the person before her pierced through the heart.
Kuángdāo suddenly threw his saber at Mǔdān, then pushed off the ground, swooping towards Mǔdān like a roc.
“Presumptuous!”
The侍女 with the mole on her face had a fierce look. She flicked her hand, catching the saber in her sleeve, and then rose abruptly. A bone-chilling killing intent surged around her, and in an instant, she appeared before Kuángdāo.
Seeing Kuángdāo and this unknown young man about to be beheaded, the onlookers felt the stranger’s luck was truly terrible, and Kuángdāo’s actions utterly foolish. To offend Gōngzǐ Xún for a brother and sister he didn’t know, and ultimately lose his life, was simply idiotic.
Just as everyone thought Kuángdāo and Nán Shīyǐng were about to be bathed in blood, the sleeve silk aimed at Nán Shīyǐng and the saber cleaving towards Kuángdāo suddenly halted in mid-air. Then, as if losing all power, the sleeve silk sagged limply to the ground, while the saber clanged as it dropped from the air.
Mǔdān and Yīngsù suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed, unable to support themselves.
Before the crowd could even gasp in shock, they felt their bodies go weak, collapsing onto the tables. They didn’t even have the strength to lift their heads.
Kuángdāo’s legs gave out, and he too, fell.
In the entire inn, only two people remained standing upright: the brother and sister holding hands.
“What did you do to us?”
“Why do we have no strength? And attempting to circulate internal energy…”
Before the person could finish speaking, the moment he tried to circulate his internal energy, he felt as if his heart was instantly seized by a large hand. All his words were choked by the blood that rushed into his throat. With a “poof,” he spat out a mouthful of dark red blood.
The person’s gaze sharpened. He laboriously raised his hand to cover his chest, gasping unintelligibly, “You, you poisoned us?”
“You poisoned all of us?”
Kuángdāo used his hands to prop himself up, trying to appear less pathetic. He looked up in disbelief. He hadn’t expected the other party to poison him as well. Nán Shīyǐng, sensing the emotions emanating from Kuángdāo, said, “Sorry,” but her demeanor showed no hint of apology.
She said, “Sorry, poisoning is indiscriminate. But it’s alright, as long as you don’t resist or circulate your energy, you won’t die!” Nán Shīyǐng even wore a friendly smile as she explained, as if she hadn’t poisoned everyone, but had merely performed a show for them, and was humbly saying, “It’s nothing, just basic stuff,” after receiving applause.
Kuángdāo and the others fell silent. Hearing that the poison was not fatal, they were unsure whether to feel relieved or worried.