Several days prior, the last vestiges of summer heat lingered on this continent, the first autumn rain yet to fall. Only in the morning and evening, when the sun was dimmed, did the wind carry a hint of crisp autumn air, wandering through the hills, forests, and fields, gently caressing all it touched.

Autumn winds stir sorrow, yet at that time, Fan Xian harbored few such emotions. He sat within the long, black caravan, allowing the carriage's rocking to lull him towards sleepiness. It was a feigned slumber; he merely closed his eyes, releasing his mind, allowing the two utterly different true energies within him to circulate and nurture each other through the upper and lower *Zhou Tian* cycles.

The Heaven One Dao's natural true energy method was employed in the upper cycle, gentle and pure, already grasping the essence. Yet, his true reliance, that powerful, domineering true energy, coursed throughout his body, strengthening it, tempering his will.

The contents of the small booklet given to him by Si Gu Jian at his death were also firmly etched within Fan Xian's mind. On this journey westward back to the capital, while continuing to refine his cultivation, he also attempted to follow the booklet's profound instructions, releasing his mind to sense the possibly existent, possibly non-existent primal energy fluctuations in the surrounding void. Perhaps due to the arduous journey, or perhaps because the East Sea coast inherently gathered too much of heaven and earth's spiritual essence, Fan Xian did not achieve much progress along the way. However, the speed at which he mobilized his thoughts and developed a sensitive perception of the outside world did increase significantly.

Not a day without contemplation, not a moment without arduous cultivation – this was likely the true reason Fan Xian possessed his current strength and status. A gust of wind entered through the carriage curtain, causing him to slightly narrow his eyes. For some reason, his heart trembled, sensing a chill, as if some events, destined to affect him, were about to occur in the world.

What could it be? He squinted at the dim, desolate mountains outside, slowly dispersing the true energy gathering within him, retracting his mind from his surroundings. The matters of Dongyi City were basically settled, his father had left Ten Family Village and returned to Danzhou, and the capital remained peaceful. Chen Pingping, that old cripple, should also have begun his journey home. Everything was proceeding along the beautiful path Fan Xian had hoped for. So why this ominous feeling?

His handsome brows furrowed slightly. After leaving Dongyi City, the only thing that bothered Fan Xian was the constant ambush attempts by the loyalist forces of Dongyi City's affiliated states. Although these passionate remnants held a death wish, coming to assassinate Qing's powerful officials, the defenses surrounding Fan Xian were too strong, and the First Prince had also dispatched a thousand-man team as escort. The attacks over the past few days had only resulted in those loyalists leaving behind corpses and blood, before collapsing in despair.

What alarmed Fan Xian was that his route back to the capital from Dongyi City was extremely secretive. Even if someone had discovered it in Dongyi City, it would require an extremely powerful intelligence network to set up these ambush positions along the way.

A thought flashed through his mind, leading to a chilling conclusion: someone within the Supervisory Council was informing the loyalist forces of these affiliated states of Dongyi City! Moreover, this had started after he had decided on the date of his departure from Dongyi City.

It seemed… certain forces in the capital wanted to block him from returning, or more precisely, those forces only wanted to delay Fan Xian's return. What could be happening in the capital? What events were related to him, and why were they determined not to let him return before those events concluded? Fan Xian's eyes turned cold, his body as well. Subconsciously, he tightened the thin cloak he wore.

Those who could cause problems within the Supervisory Council were only two: His Majesty the Emperor, and Chen Pingping. Those who could delay his return were also only these two. Without asking, it was known that the events occurring in the capital must be related to the Emperor and Chen Pingping.

Fan Xian withdrew his gaze from the scenery outside the window, remaining silent for only a moment. Driven by intense anxiety, he made a decision, instructing Mu Feng'er, who was riding a horse beside the carriage: "Change formation, use a wedge formation to clear the path. Do not delay with those people along the way. Return to Yanjing at the fastest speed."

Mu Feng'er was startled. He thought that forcibly charging all the way back would result in many deaths. The drawback of speed was casualties. He glanced at the young Master Fan, knowing that the master must have sensed something strange, which was why he was rushing back to the capital. Not daring to inquire, he quickly issued an order to the long returning caravan, ordering them to advance at full speed.

The sound of hooves was like thunder, the sound of carriages like iron. They raced along the road from Dongyi City to Qing.

However, after traveling for less than half an hour, the entire team suddenly slowed down. An alarm arrow sounded from the front. These days, the team escorting young Master Fan had become accustomed to ubiquitous ambushes and attacks, so they were not particularly shocked. However, the alarm arrow sounded strange today, stopping after only one shot, followed by continuous loud calls from the front of the caravan: "Safe!"

The Supervisory Council's shouts of "Safe!" were extremely short and rapid, because they feared their colleagues behind would accidentally injure the messenger who had come to deliver the message... that messenger was too fast, so fast that the defense forces of the entire caravan, besides taking a glance at his waist token, could not react at all.

"Safe!" As the last sound rang out beside Fan Xian's black carriage, a light gray figure also flew diagonally to the carriage like a flash of lightning. The caravan was extremely long, yet this person's lightness skill was almost as fast as the Supervisory Council's personnel delivering messages, which was truly astonishing.

Mu Feng'er, as the current leader of the Qinian Group in Fan Xian's personal guard, warily gripped his sword hilt, watching the dusty, haggard Supervisory Council official who had just landed beside the carriage. This official's face looked unfamiliar, so Mu Feng'er did not dare to be careless. However, when he saw the waist token that the official had been holding high in his right hand, he was greatly shocked, and did not block the person from entering the carriage.

That Supervisory Council official, whose clothes were so tattered that they were unrecognizable, squeezed into Fan Xian's carriage, knelt directly down, and said in a hoarse voice: "Director Chen is returning to the capital, his life is unknown!"

……

……

When the lightning-quick, wind-like figure appeared beside the carriage, Fan Xian's eyes lit up, growing brighter and brighter, because he recognized who the official with such swift movements was. It was his most intimate subordinate from years past, whom he had missed for several years.

"Lao Wang Tou..." Watching this official enter the carriage, the light and joy in Fan Xian's eyes gradually grew, turning into a smile. However, the laughter stopped abruptly, because he heard the words that Wang Qinian said.

The light and joy in Fan Xian's eyes quickly solidified, turning into a ball of scalding ice, terribly cold, terribly hot, and he directly asked: "Returning from where, when?"

Wang Qinian's chest rose and fell rapidly. As one of the Supervisory Council's wings, he had traveled diagonally from not far outside Dazhou City towards the northeast, not resting for a long time, relying entirely on a breath of air in his heart to support his extremely exhausted body. Now that he finally saw Fan Xian, he was about to collapse, but he knew that the question Fan Xian was asking involved when Director Chen would be able to reach the capital, and how much time Fan Xian had. Therefore, he directly gave the answer.

Fan Xian silently sat on the chair, closed his eyes, then opened them. He had already calculated the approximate date Chen Pingping was being escorted back to the capital, and the time it would take him to rush back to Yanjing from this place, and then back to the capital.

Was he going to be too late? The cold fire in Fan Xian's eyes grew increasingly intense. He looked at Wang Qinian kneeling before him, not saying a word. The joy of a long-awaited reunion was covered by a strong resentment. The escorting force for Chen Pingping's return was personally arranged and deployed by Fan Xian. How could he be captured back by the Emperor again under the Supervisory Council's watch!

Fan Xian could not have imagined at this moment that everything that had happened in Dazhou was just because Chen Pingping himself wanted to return to the capital, he wanted to return to ask the Emperor a few questions.

Time was pressing, like a mountain fire burning his eyebrows. Fan Xian coldly said to Mu Feng'er by the carriage window: "The entire team returns to Dongyi. Tell the First Prince, unless he has a letter written by my own hand, never to return."

From the moment he learned that Chen Pingping was returning to the capital, to the moment Fan Xian issued his first order, only a moment had passed. Fan Xian's first priority was to deal with this large team, and then to prevent the First Prince, who currently had more than ten thousand troops in Dongyi City, from causing any trouble.

After issuing the orders, those below would naturally be responsible for executing them. Fan Xian would not say another word. He took a bag of clear water from the partition of the luxurious black carriage and tied it to his waist, then stood up tall and took a deep breath.

……

……

The black carriage suddenly disintegrated. The wooden wall at the front, which was not covered in steel plates, was instantly shattered into fragments. A black figure, like a black lightning bolt, flew out of the carriage, tapping the horse's head with the tip of his toe, and shooting diagonally forward. A sound like tearing filled the air.

Fan Xian cherished every second. The domineering true energy in his body was raised to its peak state, and the little bit of spell he had just comprehended also helped his body become more like a bird in the air, rapidly moving forward by borrowing the flow of air, turning his figure into a black shadow.

Like a flash of lightning, his toe stepped on the heads of the Supervisory Council's officials, drifting away, and instantly arrived at the front of the team. This was probably the ultimate speed that Fan Xian could display.

While in mid-air, he kicked the general sent by the First Prince off his horse, snatched the best warhorse in the team, then brushed a clean steel needle from his hair with his finger and stuck it into the warhorse's neck. With a flick of his finger, he removed the horse's muzzle and fed it a ephedra pill. The Black Riders' technique of stimulating the horse's power was magically displayed by him in this extremely short period of time.

Standing on the horse, Fan Xian groaned softly. The steed swiftly galloped out like an arrow, leaving the main force, and instantly became a small black dot on the official road, disappearing from everyone's sight after only a short while.

Everyone watched this scene in stunned silence. While being shocked by the young Lord's unparalleled cultivation, they were also extremely puzzled. What had happened ahead that made the young Lord so anxious!

Mu Feng'er received Fan Xian's order, but was very puzzled by it. Why were they returning to Dongyi City again? He subconsciously glanced into the carriage. He had already guessed who that unfamiliar official with the highest-level waist token of the Qinian Group was. Lord Wang Qinian was also a legendary figure in the Supervisory Council. Mu Feng'er wanted to know from him what major events had occurred in the capital, but when he pulled open the wooden plank, he found that… Lord Wang Qinian had exhausted his strength to the extreme and had fainted in the carriage.

It had only taken two days from Dazhou to this place, which was no longer a speed that humans could achieve, but Wang Qinian had done it.

Mu Feng'er looked at this scene in shock and slight fear, subconsciously raising his head to look in the direction where young Master Fan had disappeared, vaguely guessing that this was probably a relay race, or perhaps, a race against death.

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The cold and strong autumn wind, like a knife, howled and struck Fan Xian's face. The cold fire in his eyes had faded, but it revealed a heart-palpitating calmness. He knew what he needed, and what that old cripple in the capital needed: time, just time. Although he could not understand, nor needed to understand, why everything that was developing in a perfect direction suddenly took a sharp turn in Dazhou, he only knew that if the old cripple returned to the capital, it must be for the events of that year. The old cripple was going to his death.

Time, still time, just time, anxiously burning Fan Xian's heart like a mountain fire, washing his heart like the fine sand in an hourglass. The hooves of the steed beneath him were like stepping on clouds, its breath like rushing thunder. Under the stimulation of drugs, it maintained its fastest speed, galloping on the official road through the mountains and forests, breaking through the mountains and fog all the way, stepping through streams and disturbing the moon all night, directly reaching Yanjing.

For an entire night, Fan Xian did not dismount, did not slow down. Besides the water skin at his waist replenishing some moisture for him and the horse, there were no other unnecessary actions. The road to Guanshan was long, and it still required time and spirit to reach the capital.

As the sky just began to dawn, the majestic city of Yanjing was already in sight. Having rushed back into Qing's territory in just one night, Fan Xian was already pushing himself to the limit. His speed was unbelievably fast. Even the loyalist forces ambushing on the last section of the road could not react at all, only watching the black steed and rider gallop away alone in a cloud of dust.

Fan Xian wanted to cherish every second, so he would of course not enter Yanjing City. Regardless of whether Yanjing had received any secret instructions from the Emperor, he would not take the risk, nor would he delay any time here. At the very first moment the majestic city came into view, he hooked his foot on the stirrup, took out a command arrow from his chest, and with a slight movement of true energy in his palm, pointed it straight into the sky.

With a *peng* sound, a beautiful firework cut through the quiet morning outside the majestic city of Yanjing, even overshadowing the distant faint crescent moon. The rising sun in the east was still unable to catch up with this fleeting light.

Most of the people in Yanjing City were still in sweet sleep, but after all, it was a majestic city guarding against Northern Qi and Dongyi, and the reaction of the soldiers guarding the city was extremely fast. They immediately rang the alarm bells in the watchtower on the city wall. In an instant, the Qing soldiers on the city gathered, tightly gripping their weapons, watching the steed and the person on it rushing from afar.

As Fan Xian approached the majestic city of Yanjing, able to clearly see the morning light reflected from the weapons in the hands of the soldiers on the city, there was no expression on his face, nor any emotion in his heart. He just forcefully pulled the reins, forcibly changing direction while still traveling at high speed, heading east along the ancient and solid city wall of Yanjing.

The soldiers guarding the city on the wall watched this scene in stunned silence.

Then, a burst of stern and dense hooves sounded like thunder. There was a commotion in the temporary garrison outside Yanjing City. As Fan Xian turned east, five hundred fully armored black riders had also prepared to attack in that camp, killing diagonally out of the camp, and meeting Fan Xian outside the eastern gate of Yanjing City.

Five hundred Black Riders, prepared within Qing territory to meet Fan Xian returning to the capital, saw the command arrow symbolizing the Supervisory Council's most urgent order in the early morning, reacted in the shortest possible time, and met Fan Xian.

Fan Xian did not reduce his speed, merging with the black torrent in one place, and he could no longer be seen as a single figure. All that was seen was the sweeping force of a cloud.

Without any orders, without any words, Fan Xian lightened his figure, abandoning the steed that had galloped with him for an entire night, and floated onto the horse of the Black Rider Deputy Commander beside him, while the Deputy Commander had already drifted to another vacant steed.

Changing horses was always completed at extremely high speed, without any obstacles. The Black Riders' horsemanship was unparalleled in the world, truly not a false reputation. However, the Black Rider soldiers, looking at the Director's anxious and indifferent face, did not ask any questions. They knew that something major must have happened, so they silently and powerfully followed Fan Xian's arrow, killing towards the eastern plain.

With a mournful cry, the warhorse that had accompanied Fan Xian for a night foamed at the mouth, fell to the ground, raising dust, its four legs twitching slightly, exhausted to death. In just an instant, the entire five hundred Black Riders disappeared on the plain beneath Yanjing City, leaving only this steed and a cloud of dust.

The soldiers on Yanjing City watched this magical scene in stunned silence, unable to speak for a long time. They certainly knew the power of the Black Riders, but after seeing it with their own eyes today, they were still overwhelmed and speechless, especially who was the knight who had come alone at the very beginning?

When Grand Master Wang Zhikun of Yanjing learned of everything that had happened in the early morning, a look of worry appeared in his eyes. He ordered the entire army to be on alert, and to seal off the border between Qing and Northern Qi and Dongyi. But those Black Riders, the young Lord who had led the Black Riders in a wild and swift gallop through the city, who had brought him endless doubts and shocks, had already left the area of Yanjing City and embarked on the real road back to the capital.

……

……

Passing through state after state, meeting obstacles and breaking through them, not bickering with any state or county officials, regarding any clauses in the Qing law regarding troop mobilization as nonsense, the five hundred Black Riders, led by Fan Xian, rushed to the capital at the fastest speed.

This was already several days later, and the five hundred Black Riders' mad rush in these few days had shocked countless officials and civilians, and would leave behind what kind of legend in Qing's history was unknown. The Black Riders' surprise attack from thousands of miles away was unparalleled in the world, but in the past, this iron-forged Netherworld team was only used for the interests of Qing and His Majesty the Emperor, rushing to kill beyond the borders of the country. This raid in the tenth year of the Qingli era was traversing the fertile plains of Qing.

Amidst the autumn rain, the Farewell Pavilion outside the capital suddenly trembled. A batch of cavalry like black iron and dark clouds howled past, raising a cloud of dust and several fallen leaves.

The capital was close at hand, and Fan Xian, in the center of the Black Riders, was already exhausted to the most difficult moment. He had not rested for several days and nights, had not eaten, and only relied on clear water to support his fatigue. Only the cold fire in his eyes and heart was stimulating his body's functions, preventing him from falling down.

He had to rush back, he had to prevent everything that was about to happen.

"You have to wait for me." Fan Xian's black official uniform was covered with a layer of sand and soil, and his face was also full of yellow dirt, even his eyelashes were covered with a layer. His lips were dry, and his pupils were frighteningly bright. There had been a rain yesterday, making this batch of black cavalry look exceptionally embarrassed. Even with the Black Riders' abilities, in such a surprise attack across the Qing interior, there were still people who could not keep up with Fan Xian's speed and fell behind.

If Fan Xian had not fully unleashed his own powerful cultivation, he would not have been able to support such a terrifying speed at all. And in the rain yesterday, a warhorse finally could not support it any longer, and could not move forward even with medicine. Fan Xian changed ten horses in the Black Riders in a row, and could not find another horse to change, so he forcibly robbed a merchant team on the official road and seized thirty horses.

At this moment, there were still twenty or so Black Riders beside Fan Xian, but even such a small team made the land outside the entire capital tremble, as if there was an irresistible army approaching the heart of Qing.

As the Black Riders approached the capital, rushing straight to the Zhengyang Gate, the gates of the capital were tightly closed at this time, and all the defense forces had been raised to the highest level. The soldiers of the Thirteen City Gates and the cavalry guarding the capital were solemnly watching everything outside the capital. However, these dozens of Black Riders came too fast, too decisively, so fast that the capital guards did not even have time to react before they reached the foot of the Zhengyang Gate.

At a distance of about fifty feet from the Zhengyang Gate, Fan Xian wiped the dirty rainwater from his face, did not reduce his speed, and shouted sternly at the generals on the Zhengyang Gate: "Open the gate! I am Fan Xian!"

……

……

Young Lord Fan is back! The faces of those generals and officials on the city wall turned pale. Of course, they knew what was happening in the palace today. It was just that these generals were guarding the city under orders, and the palace was just worried that the Supervisory Council might involve the other forces in the court, but no one had ever thought... that young Lord Fan would suddenly appear under the Zhengyang Gate!

Whether it was His Majesty the Emperor of Qing, who was coldly suppressing his rage, or Chen Pingping, who was trying everything possible to stop Fan Xian from returning to the capital, they probably would not have thought that Fan Xian would rush back to the capital today!

The Qing court's last knowledge of Fan Xian was that Fan Xian was still far outside the borders of the country, still on the road from Dongyi City back to the capital. Even if he flew, it would probably be too late to rush back, but... what made everyone dare not believe was that Fan Xian had insisted on rushing back!

"Hold the city gate! Crossbowmen, get ready!" The commander of the Zhengyang Gate reacted first. The decree he had received was to close the gates of the capital today and strictly prohibit entry and exit. He looked at the twenty or so Black Riders getting closer and closer with a trembling voice, as if looking at thousands of troops about to attack the city, and gave the order with a pale face.

Even if young Lord Fan rushed back, he could not be allowed to enter the capital today, especially today!

"Young Lord Fan, today..." The commander of the Zhengyang Gate wanted to explain a few words to Fan Xian on the horse, but Fan Xian had no time to listen to his explanation. The speed of the steed under him did not decrease, and his eyes swept across the Zhengyang Gate city wall, and he saw the soldiers waiting in formation. His heart tightened, knowing that even if he risked his life to rush back to the capital, he was probably still too late.

Two cold glows burst out in Fan Xian's eyes on the horse, staring at the soldiers on the city wall, staring at them so intently that the soldiers retreated their gazes in fear.

The Black Riders were getting closer and closer to the city gate. Fan Xian raised his right hand and then forcefully chopped it down. The twenty or so Black Riders behind him formed a triangular formation, slowing down and staying outside the range of the arrows on the city wall.

The people on the city wall of the capital breathed a sigh of relief. Although the twenty or so Black Riders were imposing, these people could not possibly break through the city wall. It was just that if they really faced the Black Riders head-on, who knew what would happen in the future? As long as these Black Riders stopped and no longer attacked, it would be extremely good.

However, Fan Xian did not slow down, he was still rushing towards the Zhengyang Gate.

The twenty or so Black Riders behind him calmly took out the crossbows behind them!

With a series of dense sounds, the crossbows suddenly fired, shooting hooks towards the city wall. With a clang, they firmly fastened onto the green bricks on the city wall! Dozens of black hooks, like a net, became a bridge above and below the city wall, a bridge across life and death!

These were hooks researched many years ago by Office Three. When Fan Xian was envoy to Northern Qi, the council advised him to use them, but Fan Xian had his own life-saving tricks, so he did not use them. But today, he had to save all the time and forcibly break through the city wall, so Fan Xian had already prepared.

He was alone, reaching the foot of the Zhengyang Gate. As the autumn rain slightly condensed overhead, those black hooks flashed through the sky like countless shadows. Fan Xian groaned softly, forcibly suppressing the true energy agitation brought on by his extreme fatigue and energy consumption. Domineering true energy was released, and he stepped on the back of the steed, relying on the subtle sense of the surrounding air flow, and flew straight up, with a *boom* sound, as powerful as thunder.

Like a black bird, flying in front of the capital's gloomy city gate, getting higher and higher.

"Cut the ropes! Cut the ropes!" The commander of the Zhengyang Gate shouted hoarsely. He did not dare to let the soldiers fire arrows at that shadowy figure, because he did not know whether he would be executed by the Emperor if he killed young Lord Fan.

The commander of the Zhengyang Gate was somewhat afraid, but Fan Xian was not afraid at all. He shouted, forcibly raising the true energy in his body again, and touched the black hooks with the tips of his fingers. The whole person floated up like black smoke, rushing towards the high city wall along the hooks!

One hook was cut off, and there was another. When a dozen hooks were cut off at full speed by the soldiers of the Thirteen City Gates, Fan Xian, covered in gray soil and exhausted, had already rushed to the top of the city gate. He saw a shrill light flash, and the Great Wei Son of Heaven Sword that he had been carrying on his back was unsheathed!

A sword tip pierced the throat of the commander of the Zhengyang Gate, blood spurted out, and then quickly returned. The commander fell to the ground.

Fan Xian rushed past his corpse like a gust of wind, broke through the defenses of the powerful Qing army on the city wall at the cost of three shallow wounds on his body, flew down the long stone steps, killed three more people with a flash of the sword, snatched a horse, clamped his legs, and ran along that straight road towards the palace.

Fast, all of this could only be described by one word: fast. Faster than avoiding Wu Zhu's wooden stick on the cliff in Danzhou back then, faster than breaking into the palace and forcefully restraining the Empress Dowager back then. From the moment he knew the news until now when he killed his way into the capital, every minute and every second of these few days and nights, Fan Xian had exerted abilities beyond his realm. The fear in his heart made him stronger and colder than ever before.

Blood was on his sword, on his body, but he did not move at all. His heart felt an unprecedented fear and panic. Looking at the situation in the capital, he was afraid that that person… that person who should be waiting for him, could not wait for him anymore.

"You have to wait for me." Fan Xian repeated it again in his heart, letting the autumn rain beat on his face covered with dust, and galloped madly towards the palace.

The palace was close, the autumn rain was heavy, there were not many pedestrians on the street. Where were people gathering? Fan Xian thought somewhat blankly, somewhat fearfully, and then he heard bursts of cheers, and then he heard silence, deathly silence.

People in the capital could not hear the silence, only Fan Xian could hear it, hearing it with great fear. People in the capital only heard the sound of hooves in the silence.

*Da da da da.*

People only heard the sound of hooves in the silence, and then saw the black rider rushing over like lightning, saw the tattered and dirty black official uniform in the autumn rain, saw the solemn and murderous face of the person on the horse.

The people watching the execution in the square in front of the palace suddenly became agitated, and exclamations and screams rang out almost at the same time. The fluctuations in the rear of the crowd were extremely chaotic, and it was unknown how many people were injured by trampling.

Because that lone rider did not slow down at all, but rushed coldly towards the dense crowd!

Those who could avoid it avoided it, and those who could not avoid it were knocked away by the horse. In the autumn rain, hooves and passersby, cold and abnormal.

The crowd was split apart by the fear of death, desperately squeezing to the sides, leaving a passage leading straight to the palace and the small execution ground.

The imperial guards surrounded, their spears like a forest, pointing directly at that rider.

Fan Xian flew up silently, crossed the forest of spears. While in mid-air, the sword was already in his hand, cutting out horizontally and vertically like lightning. With several *chi chi* sounds, he cut off several long swords, shook off several palace guards, and his person had already swept over the execution ground.

No matter what action he took, Fan Xian's eyes had been looking at the small wooden platform, looking at the old man who was tied to the wooden frame, bloody and dying. Fan Xian's eyes became colder and more resentful, and then he heard the strong wind coming from all around.

Countless figures in sackcloth rose up, like flying flowers revolving in the autumn rain, blocking all of Fan Xian's paths.

Fan Xian did not retreat, did not avoid, and endured three palms on his chest and back. His sword also stabbed fiercely into the face of a person in sackcloth, stabbing viciously from his eyelids. Blood and eye fluid burst out at the same time, mixing in the rainwater.

He roared, and his left hand slapped horizontally, with full of domineering meaning. Only a slight sound was heard from his wrist bone, and the man in sackcloth on his left was shocked to the point where blood overflowed from his facial features, and he fell to the ground.

With a *pa* sound, Fan Xian's feet finally stood on the wet small wooden platform, but he also paid a great price. The injuries in his body suddenly erupted, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

However, he ignored everything, just looking blankly at the old man on the wooden frame, the old man who had been cut so many times on his body, the old man who was exposed to the eyes of the people, and was enduring endless humiliation.

With just one glance, Fan Xian knew that he had come late, and he had no way to let the other party continue to live. His dry lips slightly opened, wanting to say something, but could not say anything.

The autumn rain fell, sweeping over the old and young on the wooden platform. The surroundings were silent, and all the imperial guards, palace experts, and powerful ascetics in Qing Temple tightly surrounded this wooden platform. However, under the suppression of the strong murderous intent and desperate methods that Fan Xian had shown before, everyone's body was somewhat stiff, and no one could move a step.

Fan Xian walked forward with great difficulty, tore off the ropes, and held Chen Pingping's thin body in his arms, took off his black Supervisory Council official uniform, which was full of mud and holes, and covered it on his body.

Chen Pingping opened his eyes with great difficulty. Those old, turbid, and scattered eyes shone with a pure light, like a child - the old man shrank in Fan Xian's arms like a child, seemingly a little afraid of the cold.

"I came late." Fan Xian held the thin body, feeling the old man's temperature slowly fading away, and said dryly, his heart filled with unprecedented frustration, despair, and... sadness.

……

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(Desperate and helpless struggle, perhaps a tragic beauty. Yesterday I said that I love Chen Pingping, but in fact I have never loved Fan Xian, which I will explain in detail to everyone in the future. But today's Fan Xian is the day I love him the most in his life. Sadly, it is also the last day for him and Chen Pingping.

Writing based on emotions, moving with them, whether happy or sad. I wanted to say that I would write less these two days, but I can't stop my fingers. This is probably the most involved time I have had these days. This feeling is rare, and I must cherish it.

If you feel that these chapters have been written to touch you, please support me with monthly tickets. I need all kinds of support. Thank you very much. I bow silently and leave the stage.)