Chapter 883: Chapter 523: Qian’er 1000 Li, Ziyu 100 Li
Zhao Rong did not want to die.
He had promised Qing Jun that he would pick a bright moon for her.
He had pledged to Su Xiaoxiao to exchange a unique moon, unmatched in the world, for her entry into his family.
He had promised Qian’er to always cherish and protect her as they spent the latter half of their lives counting stars together.
Zhao Rong did not want to die, but.
He would never live dishonorably.
Qin Jianfu rejected the only compromise Zhao Rong considered his bottom line, refusing to let Qian’er go.
This old friend from Great Wei wanted to torment him by using the people he cared about.
What else could Zhao Rong do?
Continue to compromise? Fall to his knees and beg this old fox for forgiveness, sobbing and crying?
Seek a slim chance of survival through loss of manly spirit?
This seemed to be the only possible solution to the current predicament of almost certain death.
And it was… the scene Qin Jianfu was secretly expecting.
The old man’s actions, his delayed inaction, and the psychological pressure and certain hints he continuously exerted upon Zhao Rong.
All to guide him in this direction… just yield, yield, I’ll release her once you yield.
The old man not only wanted to physically destroy him but also to defeat him mentally.
So.
Zhao Rong prepared himself, girding his sword and straightening his crown.
Silently charging forward.
To his death.
So at the very moment Zhao Rong’s actions scorned him.
The ever-cold and calculating Qin Jianfu flew into a rage.
“Sorry, it’s my incompetence, Brother Rong’er…”
The young Confucian Scholar softly thought to himself at that moment.
So.
Right now, in the bamboo courtyard where the red leaves had all fallen, facing Zhu Yourong’s signaling of refusal.
Zhao Rong couldn’t agree.
He couldn’t let Qian’er down.
Nor could he insult himself.
He could only think of a path of valiant death.
Zhao Rong silently watched as the ink-colored Confucian robe woman in front of him gradually became clearer, while the estranged old Confucian Scholar’s laughter, joyous despite being disfigured, resounded in his ears.
As expected, this ‘accident’ with Zhu Yourong was also within the calculations of this old fox or the person behind him.
Zhao Rong turned his head, looking calmly.
Qin Jianfu grabbed with a big hand, retrieving the gray tobacco pouch that remained intact after the pipe broke, the small opening slightly ajar, sucking in the fragments of the copper tobacco pipe.
The gray tobacco pouch flew back into Qin Jianfu’s hand.
He held the pouch in one hand and pointed at the Confucian robe woman emerging from the landscape painting, sneering coldly:
“A female cultivator at the half-step Nascent Soul stage? Tsk tsk, it looks like she’s on our Confucian path, but is this… the way of painting and calligraphy? A bit odd… But no matter how strange, it’s just a projection of a Nascent Soul’s avatar, unable to locate and arrive here in such a short time.”
The old man collected his smile and calmly looked at the young Confucian Scholar, half-blocked by the Confucian robe woman, nodding his head.
“You boy certainly have a lot of tricks, and quite a few surprises, are there more? Hmm? The ‘little accident’ when that carriage lost control and toppled over the other day, do you remember? It was then that I discovered you had many secrets hidden on you.”
Zhao Rong lowered his gaze.
So, before today’s dead-end game, this old beast and the person behind him had secretly done so many tests and preparations.
All these efforts, just to make sure they could kill him?
The young Confucian Scholar nodded, “An honor indeed.”
His hand remained on the sword, his fingers gripping so tightly they had lost their color, with blood-red tassels covering the gaps between them.
Qin Jianfu moved.
He took two steps to the left, facing Zhao Rong and the Confucian robe woman, and continued calmly:
“What other surprises are left, quickly bring them all out, see if they can save your pathetic life… huh, actually I’m more curious about that green-clothed servant-like follower with you that day. Quite enigmatic, though…”
The old man continued speaking without pause, holding the gray tobacco pouch, and took a few more steps toward the northeast side of the courtyard, chuckling softly:
“I’ve left something for that green-clothed fellow too, speaking of which, why didn’t he show up today. Should I give you a chance to call him over?”
Zhao Rong nodded again, pointing at Qian’er, and said earnestly:
“Sure, this little girl knows where, let her find Uncle Xiaobai, and I’ll wait here with you.”
Qin Jianfu nodded too, his smile not reaching his eyes:
“Fine, let’s do as you say. But I must first destroy her cultivation, break her Sword Immortal body, then scar her pretty little face, burn her a bit with fire, and then let her go to deliver the message. You be patient for a bit, I’ll get it done soon.”
With those words, the disfigured old Confucian Scholar, holding the tobacco pouch with one hand behind his back, began walking slowly toward Zhao Qian’er, who had fallen to the ground.
The young Confucian Scholar took a deep breath, turning to look at the Confucian robe woman protecting him.
The once-quiet ink-robed woman did not look at him but suddenly lifted her head, looking around in all directions.
Gui suddenly warned, “This is bad, this old beast is setting up a formation while pacing, he was stalling for time! All falsehoods! He’s afraid you’ll flee with Zhu Yourong and wants to seal this bamboo grove!”
Sure enough, as Zhao Rong’s expression instinctively tightened, that disfigured old Confucian Scholar who had been walking with eyes straight ahead swiftly glanced in their direction, his pace suddenly quickening.
A formation sealing the space was forming beneath his feet.