Fang Jie asked his question, but no one answered immediately.
The woman in the red skirt had a pair of legs that made it difficult for men to look away. She sat on the roof beam, her posture somewhat inelegant. For a woman, she really shouldn't have her legs spread so wide. Because they were spread, her long skirt had ridden up past her knees, revealing two calves so pale they were almost dazzling—not an ounce too plump, not an ounce too slender.
If these legs appeared in the Red Sleeve Tavern, they would draw countless greedy stares from the patrons.
If the owner of these legs was willing, there would surely be many who would prostrate themselves at her feet, kissing her toes, even sucking them into their mouths.
Very beautiful legs, very beautiful feet.
She wasn't drunk, but her eyes were languid and hazy as she looked down at the clean-cut young man gazing up at her. She knew from this angle, his upward gaze would inevitably see things it shouldn't, but she didn't care in the slightest.
One must remember, back when she fled with this young man from that long-renowned mountain, it was she who changed his diapers every day, who fed him. Even during most nights of his childhood, this shameless creature always insisted on hugging her neck to fall asleep.
That year, she was only twelve. That year, that little scoundrel couldn't find much to grope even when his hands wandered over her chest at night.
Of course, if she had known that even as a small child, when he pinched that pink bud, he had impure thoughts in his heart, she would have undoubtedly castrated the little rascal without hesitation.
But who could have guessed that even as an infant, his mental age was already mature?
She knew he was a genius, but had no idea this genius was actually operating with an external cheat code.
The shriveled old man crouching behind the bookshelf, still savoring the aroma of the dog meat, was taken aback. Seeing Fang Jie's serious, solemn expression, he sighed. He instinctively glanced back at the sword case that never left his side, not even half a meter away. Thinking of the great secret hidden within that case, a wave of melancholy washed over him.
For so many years, the sword case had remained in his possession.For so many years, only he knew what was hidden inside.Even Mu Xiaoyao didn't know.
The woman in the red skirt sitting on the roof beam was Mu Xiaoyao. Her waist was very slender, exceptionally so. In contrast, her buttocks were perky, her legs were long.
Fifteen years ago, when that person entrusted the swaddled infant Fang Jie to them, he had separately called Mu Xiaoyao and the shriveled old man into his study for instructions. But fifteen years had passed; Mu Xiaoyao didn't know what that person had said to the old man, and the old man didn't know what that person had said to Mu Xiaoyao.
"Shang Guohen, you explain it!"
Mu Xiaoyao leaned back and lay down on the beam, one snow-white thigh dangling off it, swinging back and forth.
"So your name is Shang Guohen."
Fang Jie tore his gaze away from the pale thigh with some difficulty, looking at the shriveled old man in a filthy fur robe he hadn't seen him change in fifteen years. "I always thought you were just called Da Quan."
Mu Xiaoyao had always called him Da Quan, because his nose was so sensitive it could make dogs jealous. An immortal of the highest order is called a Great Immortal; a demon of the highest order is called a Great Demon. A dog of the highest order... is Shang Guohen. Over the years, relying on his nose, they had avoided countless crises and found countless paths of escape. Only after arriving in this world did Fang Jie discover a human nose could be used to such a miraculous degree.
Ordinary poisons, he could identify just by a whiff in front of his nose.His nose could even distinguish whether a fly passing by was male or female. Fang Jie remembered once disbelieving him and asking how he could tell. Da Quan swore up and down that female flies carried a whiff of wanton, slutty scent... For that statement, Mu Xiaoyao, for no apparent reason, hit him so hard she knocked his nose crooked.
"Mu Xiaoyao! Please call me by my name!"
The old man, thin as withered wood and kindling, pointed at Mu Xiaoyao and roared: "I have a name!"
"Fine, Da Gou (Big Dog)."
Mu Xiaoyao, lying on the beam, waved a hand dismissively. Her face couldn't be seen.
"I'm called Da Quan!"
"Got it, Da Gou."
Fang Jie was puzzled. He realized that after fifteen years with these two, he still didn't understand them. He sat down in the chair and murmured, "Shang Guohen... what a good name. Carries a hint of faint desolation. If one couldn't see your appearance, the name alone might fool a few young girls just awakening to love... Yet you don't like it? Is it worse sounding than Da Quan?"
"Because Da Quan is the name the Master gave him."
Mu Xiaoyao's voice drifted down slowly from above.
"Fine."
Fang Jie sat up straight and said, word by word: "Tell me, who exactly is this 'Master' you speak of? What is his relation to me? You two have protected me all these years; I am very grateful. But what I don't understand is, why am I being pursued? Does it have to do with this 'Master' you mention? If so, then please give me an explanation. I can't keep being this confused, not even knowing who I am."
"You are Fang Jie."
Da Quan answered seriously. "The one and only Fang Jie under heaven and on earth."
"Yeah, yeah!"
Fang Jie shook his head with a bitter smile. "This is the one hundred and twenty-seventh time I've asked you about my origins over the years, and the one hundred and twenty-seventh utterly unoriginal time you've given me this answer. Right, I'm Fang Jie, the one and only Fang Jie under heaven and on earth... accompanied by two freakishly powerful experts, yet unable to cultivate. Right?"
Hesitating for a moment, he added another question: "You two are freakishly powerful experts, right?"
Mu Xiaoyao shook her head, but Da Quan nodded.
"Well..."
Da Quan hesitated, then said somewhat wistfully, "Don't worry. I've never believed that someone of your background could be incapable of cultivation. Even an ordinary person would have opened three to five of the one hundred twenty-eight acupoints for Qi. Someone like you, completely blocked... there must be something wrong. But I can't figure out what it is. Don't be impatient. When we get to Chang'an, we'll find a great master of medicine to examine you."
Fang Jie was speechless. Unable to let it go, he asked again: "Really not going to tell me who I really am?"
"It's not the time yet!"
Da Quan shook his head, retreated back behind the bookshelf, curled up, and lay down. "When the time comes, I'll give you the sword case. Then you'll know naturally."
Fang Jie looked at that dull gray, grimy sword case, despair in his eyes. Since childhood, he had tried to open that case no less than five hundred times, but unfortunately, never succeeded once.
He pulled his gaze away from the sword case and looked at the account books before him. "Aside from making money, what else can I do?"
Mu Xiaoyao, lying on the beam, let out a soft sigh. In a voice only she could hear, she murmured, "One hundred and twenty-eight acupoints... no wonder he can't connect them..."
She touched a certain spot inside her robe, feeling the object she had hidden there for fifteen years.
...
Thousands of li away from Fangu City, by the banks of the Yangtze River, in an inconspicuous small fishing village.
Fourteen or fifteen corpses lay scattered on the ground, dressed in identical clothing, but the fatal wounds were different. If an experienced coroner saw these bodies, they could identify at least four distinct methods of killing. The world had stabilized over a century ago, the geopolitical settled, the chaotic era ended. So killing had become less commonplace. To have over a dozen deaths in one day today was something that couldn't be ignored.
Fang Henshui, the constable who had rushed from the county town thirty li away, crouched down to examine the bodies carefully.
Identical attire, light gray robes. No weapons were visible nearby.
Fang Henshui looked at the neck of one corpse and muttered to himself, "Neck bones crushed... the killer has tremendous finger strength. There's also one who used a blade, one who used a staff, and another who used what? A hammer? An axe?"
He turned to look at a nearby corpse. The face was almost flattened, the features unrecognizable. The nose was shattered, the eyes were(shaken/burst) out of their sockets, even the teeth in the mouth were almost all gone. This had to be an injury caused by a heavy weapon smashing squarely into the face. Yet he couldn't determine what that heavy weapon was.
It was too large, didn't seem like a hammer or axe.It should be something very flat. If a hammer hit the face with that force, the head would have exploded.
This manner of death made Fang Henshui's mind inexplicably think of one object.
A palm-leaf fan!
Yes, it was as if a giant iron palm-leaf fan had been slapped across this victim's face.
"Constable!"
Not far away, a constable picked up a round object from the ground, looked at it, but couldn't tell what it was. This item had fallen into the sand, mostly buried. If he hadn't kicked up sand while walking, he wouldn't have noticed it. A strange little wooden ball, but with a small hole.
Fang Henshui walked over, took the bead, examined it, and his expression changed.
"It's a prayer bead!"
He exclaimed in a low voice, then turned back, crouched down, and pulled off the hats from each corpse's head one by one. Upon seeing the ordination scars on their scalps, Fang Henshui's face immediately grew grim.
"They're all Buddhist sect followers."
He stood up, his expression grave.
Although Great Sui had little fondness for those Buddhist disciples who constantly spoke of saving others and saving themselves, and though Buddhists held no special privileges in Great Sui, this matter was truly extraordinary. He feared his small county constable position couldn't handle the pressure. Outside of Great Sui, the Buddhist sect held an absolutely revered status. In several countries, even the emperors were directly chosen by the Buddhist sect.
The greatest power in the world wasn't in the hands of any emperor, but within the Great Wheel Monastery on the Great Snowy Mountains!
A single word from the Great Wheel Ming King carried more weight than the words of any emperor.
The Buddhist sect and Great Sui's native Daoism had never gotten along very well. If the Buddhist sect used this incident to hold Great Sui accountable... Fang Henshui shivered. He turned and ordered, "Transport all the bodies back to the county magistrate's office. Await Magistrate's disposal."
Several hundred meters away from the murder scene, hidden in the dense branches of a large tree, a man watched the constables leave, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He leaped down from the tree and disappeared in a few swift bounds. Darting into a patch of woods, he didn't stop, rushing all the way to the deepest part of the forest.
"Ye Xiao... how is it?"
As soon as he stopped, another person jumped down from a tree to intercept him. "Have those Great Sui bloodhounds all left?"
The man named Ye Xiao nodded. "Left. But it seems today's little constable had some skill. Heng Gun... where's the Young Mistress?"
"Two li inside... you're still calling her 'Young Mistress' out of habit."
"After calling her that for so many years, how could it not be a habit?!"
Ye Xiao smiled and quickly ran deeper into the woods.
Underneath an exceptionally large locust tree, two people stood guard, weapons in hand. One was a giant who looked to be two and a half meters tall. Standing there, he was like an iron tower. Though winter along the Yangtze wasn't bitterly cold, it was still cooler than the summer heat. Yet this giant was bare-chested, displaying a body of bronze skin. Most striking was the vibrant red Qilin tattoo covering his body.
This man was too imposing; anyone who saw him would feel awe. He held a massive pu dao blade in his hand; its back was thicker than a door plank.
The other was a person whose face was hidden by a bamboo hat, head bowed, wiping their weapon—a very unusual weapon.
It was a pair of... cymbals.
Sitting under the big locust tree were two young women. One had her head bowed as if asleep. She held a sword in her arms, without a scabbard or a sword case. The blade resembled an autumn pond, soul-stirringly clear. With her head down, her features couldn't be seen, but her figure was already eye-catching.
Beside the sword-holding young woman sat another.
She looked to be fifteen or sixteen, propping her chin on her hand, gazing at the sky.
She had a head of jet-black, beautiful hair, made even more striking against her plain white clothes. Her complexion was pale, a frail kind of white. Her body was slender, her thin shoulders evoking pity.
Judging by her features, she wasn't the kind of beauty to topple cities and states. At first glance, she seemed ordinary. If one looked closely, one would find all her facial features delicate. Looking even more carefully, one would find her rather captivating. Most captivating were those bright, clear eyes. Very clear, clear enough to make one envious. Perhaps what these eyes saw was different from what others saw.
"Young Mistress!"
Ye Xiao rushed over urgently from a distance. "We have to go. The pursuers will find us again."
"Where to?"
The young woman in white shook her head, speaking with sadness. "How much longer are you going to make me be the decoy?"
Five people protecting one young girl.She said she was a decoy.
And the one she was a decoy for... where was he?
This was a question she often pondered.