After My Thoughts Were Read, My Master Led Me to Change My Fate - Chapter 61

“Master, the martial arts world is full of the good and the bad, and this is just the way the atmosphere is. Please don’t be so angry,” Jiang Yue said with a smile, picking up the tea from the small table next to him and drinking it.

Hong Shengcen said, “I am not angry. I am just a little worried that it’s getting dark, and the disciples competing on the high platforms might be in danger.”

“Aren’t there lamps hung next to every platform? Look at this Sword Discourse Platform and that nearby practice field; they are lit up like daytime. It’s only those people betting and gambling, a real mixed bag of scum, who can’t be seen or caught.”

Ran Fanyin, who had been quiet the whole time, suddenly stood up and nodded, “Master, I will leave for a moment.”

Hong Shengcen nodded and gave his permission.

Ran Fanyin descended from the high platform and stepped indifferently into the crowded people. Because of her cold aura and the Lord’s robe she wore, which symbolized her noble status, many people quickly parted, making way for her.

Ran Fanyin’s gaze rested lightly on Ning Songwu and Helan Mianmian who were laughing in the distant crowd. She walked forward with a clear destination, but just as she was about to approach Ning Songwu, her advancing steps came to a halt.

The pale yellow light shone on her face, outlining a warm and gentle curve.

Just a few more steps, and she could walk up to Ning Songwu, smile at her, cheer her on, and praise her performance today.

But Ran Fanyin stopped right there, unable to take another step forward. She simply and quietly watched Ning Songwu, who was smiling brightly, repeating what she wanted to say countless times in her mind, as if doing so would count as having said it to her.

Ning Songwu and Helan Mianmian were chatting happily and did not notice Ran Fanyin, who was so close behind them. After a short while, Helan Mianmian pulled her away again.

Ran Fanyin bit her lip, as if restraining something, yet she continued to watch Ning Songwu’s back slowly disappear into the crowd. For some reason, she couldn’t call out a single word.

The reckless bookmaker, carrying a box, just squeezed out of the crowd and nearly bumped into Ran Fanyin. The young hoodlum wiped his nose and said, “Hey! There are so many damn people, they’re squeezing the life out of me… Hey, miss, want to place a bet and try your luck? I’m offering ten-to-one odds, ten-to-one!”

Ran Fanyin glanced at him lightly.

The young hoodlum gasped, “Oh my god, is there something wrong with my eyes… How did the Lord of Beifa end up here?”

Ran Fanyin looked at him without speaking, but that gaze alone could freeze a person to death.

The young hoodlum was drenched in sweat and quickly said, “My Lord, I’m sorry, so sorry! I’m a blind fool, I’m sorry! I’ll leave right now!”

The young hoodlum hastily turned to flee, but Ran Fanyin’s eyes flashed. She stepped forward and grabbed him.

The young hoodlum pinched himself hard, squeezed out a tear, and wailed, “My Lord! Please spare me! I will never dare again! I don’t earn much money all year, I have old parents and young children to support, all relying on me! Being a bookmaker sometimes even loses money, and I don’t want to fall this low by gambling! If you take my box away, I…”

“Place a bet,” Ran Fanyin interrupted him coldly.

The young hoodlum opened his mouth in astonishment. “…Huh? What?”

“I said, place a bet.” Ran Fanyin patiently repeated herself, unfastening the white jade pendant from her waist and gently placing the warm, smooth, top-quality jade onto the box the young hoodlum was holding.

The young hoodlum’s mouth was wide open in shock, but he reacted quickly, immediately putting away the pendant. He took out a list of the upcoming matches from the box—heavens knows where he got it—and said, “Good, good, good, My Lord, look, these are the matches that haven’t been played yet, and you can bet on any of them! Who are you betting on?”

Ran Fanyin quickly scanned the list and immediately found the name she was looking for.

She gently tapped Ning Songwu’s name. “Bet on her.”

“Alright, alright, I’ve noted it down, My Lord…” The young hoodlum wanted to babble on, but Ran Fanyin had returned to her silence, turned, and left.

Ran Fanyin returned to the high platform and quietly sat down. The night she had to endure was still very long.

Helan Mianmian had originally pulled Ning Songwu out for a casual stroll and to look for Cen Ran. But she didn’t expect the crowd to be so large even at night. Squeezed back and forth, the height of the two girls gave them no advantage, and they could only move along with the flow of people.

Helan Mianmian suddenly tugged at Ning Songwu’s arm. “Hey, look, look who’s on that platform over there!”

Ning Songwu looked in that direction. Helan Mianmian was pointing to a platform quite low to the ground. The crowd surrounding this platform was especially large, forming a stark contrast to the other platforms. Because the crowd was so dense, it was impossible to clearly see who was competing on the platform.

Helan Mianmian loved a good spectacle, so she quickly pulled Ning Songwu forward and squeezed into the crowd.

Just as they squeezed in, a tall figure jumped down from the platform, landing right in front of Ning Songwu. Ning Songwu nearly ran into him. She looked up and saw that it was Jing Hu.

“Ning Songwu, you’re here.” A flood of smiles filled Jing Hu’s handsome eyes.

Helan Mianmian laughed, “That’s right, your sweetheart is here! Aren’t you happy?”

Jing Hu’s face flushed. “Helan Mianmian…”

Ning Songwu gave a polite smile. “Senior Brother Jing Hu… Are you competing?”

“No, I competed ten years ago, so I didn’t participate this year. I’m just helping Master manage the order; there was a small issue here just now.”

“Oh… I see…” Ning Songwu managed a small smile, already wanting to pull Helan Mianmian away.

Jing Hu suddenly pulled a long paper bag from his sleeve and handed it to Ning Songwu. “When I came over just now, I saw some other people from the martial world selling small snacks. I know you like sweets, so I bought this, thinking I’d give it to you if I ran into you. And I actually did! You… take it.”

“Tsk, tanghulu?” Helan Mianmian chuckled, looking at Ning Songwu.

“Thank you, Senior Brother, but I don’t particularly like eating sweets.” Ning Songwu bowed her head slightly, politely refused Jing Hu, and quickly pulled Helan Mianmian away.

Helan Mianmian shook her head. “You’re not being honest. If you don’t like sweets, why are all the dishes you cook so sickly sweet?”

Ning Songwu lowered her head, looking to the side. After a long moment, she said softly:

“She likes to eat them, so I like to make them that way.”

“She?… Oh… The Honored Lord… But she hasn’t really eaten much of your cooking, so doesn’t that make it meaningless?”

“I don’t know either. Because she likes it, I just… got used to it.”

“Well then, I wish you’ll have the chance to cook for the Honored Lord every day in the future.” Helan Mianmian smiled, nudged Ning Songwu’s shoulder, and playfully pulled her into a more bustling area.

In the blink of an eye, five days had passed since the Sword Trials began.

The three Honored Lords and the Sect Master, due to their profound internal energy, could manage to sit there quietly for a few days without rest. However, sitting there for five days was indeed a bit dull.

Due to some disputes in the matches, Cheng Yunhuan left his seat to personally handle the matter with Jing Hu. On the platform, Hong Shengcen was sitting upright, resting with his eyes closed, while Jiang Yue and Ran Fanyin were still unoccupied on either side.

A teapot and teacups were placed on the small table beside Jiang Yue. Over the past few days, he had drunk countless cups of tea, and there were scattered sunflower seed shells on and beside the table. Jiang Yue was lazily leaning on the armrest, munching on seeds while drinking tea. He grabbed a handful of seeds and offered them to Ran Fanyin. “Here, want some to relieve the boredom?”

Ran Fanyin shook her head faintly.

“Hey, aren’t you bored sitting up here all day?” Cang Min’s voice sounded from behind.

Ran Fanyin looked back and saw Cang Min, dressed in white, walking toward them with little Jiang Mang in his arms, smiling brightly.

As soon as Jiang Mang saw Ran Fanyin, she immediately ignored Jiang Yue nearby. Her two big eyes curved into crescent moons, and she jumped out of Cang Min’s arms, ran to Ran Fanyin’s feet, and tightly hugged her leg.

Jiang Yue smiled helplessly. “This little one only likes you and Ning Songwu. She won’t smile for anyone else who holds her, but every time she sees you or Ning Songwu, she gets incredibly proactive. Look, she doesn’t even put me, her master who’s raised her for so long, in her eyes.”

Ran Fanyin picked up Jiang Mang, took out the box of white sugar pills from her sleeve, and fed them to Jiang Mang.

Cang Min pulled out a large handful of various candies from his pocket and dumped them clatteringly onto the table next to Ran Fanyin. “I saw someone selling candy on the way up, so I bought these. Don’t thank me.”

Ran Fanyin glanced at Cang Min. “I’ll give you another chance. Tell the truth.” The candies were numerous and varied in type; it was obvious they weren’t bought casually but had been carefully selected from many different vendors. How could Cang Min, holding a child, have the presence of mind for that?

Cang Min pouted. “Fine. You figured it out yourself, so don’t blame me. Do you have a disciple with a red mole between her eyebrows? When I came up, I saw her standing below this high platform, wanting to come up but hesitating, so I asked her a couple of questions. Jiang Mang also knows her. Then she gave me these and asked me to bring them to you, but told me not to say they were from her…”

Ran Fanyin lowered her eyes, her emotions unreadable.

“Ran Fanyin… Senior Aunt…” Little Jiang Mang gripped Ran Fanyin’s lapel and said in a soft, gentle voice, “Sister Ning Songwu… likes you…”

“What is this child saying?” Cang Min scratched his ear, frowning.

Ran Fanyin withdrew her distant gaze, fighting back the sour ache at the corners of her eyes, and replied softly:

“She said she likes me.”

Ning Songwu’s matches over the past few days had been relatively smooth; she had won all of them, though a few required significant effort and were narrow victories.

Today’s match was a bit special.

Because the competitors who were advancing had proven to be increasingly skilled over several days of rotation, the matches were already getting more strenuous. Today, by an unfortunate coincidence, she and Lan Ze were scheduled for the same match.

The humiliation she suffered in her childhood was still vivid in her memory. Her Master had originally intended to investigate the matter thoroughly, but the subsequent heavy responsibilities of the sect distracted him, and the matter was forgotten. As for her, her conflict with Lan Ze grew deeper over time until they could barely exchange a polite word.

Who would have thought that their paths would cross so closely—they were paired up for a match in the Sword Trials.

Helan Mianmian also had a match at the same time, so she couldn’t accompany Ning Songwu. When Ning Songwu arrived at the competition grounds, she couldn’t help but frown.

This match was actually set on the highest platform among all the competition stages.

Beifa Mountain was already towering high into the clouds, and the Sword Discourse Platform was a relatively high point within Beifa. This particular stage was almost shrouded in the clouds, and the sheer height alone was enough to make one’s heart tremble.

Surrounded by a crowd, Lan Ze also used her lightness skill and flew onto the high platform.

Lan Ze, in her twenties, was in the prime of her life, with a flamboyant personality. Her every move carried a natural arrogance. Compared to her, Ning Songwu appeared much calmer and more reserved.

“Little cripple,” Lan Ze said with a flippant smile, drawing the long sword from its sheath and weighing it in her hand.

“Lan Ze, do not equate me with the child I used to be. Otherwise, you will be the one who regrets it,” Ning Songwu said, drawing the Phoenix Feather Sword, which had seen battle many times, and coldly facing Lan Ze.

Lan Ze scoffed disdainfully. Without waiting for the attending disciple to strike the gong, she quickly swung her sword and attacked Ning Songwu.

Having passed five days of matches to reach this point, Lan Ze’s strength was naturally not to be underestimated. She practiced not only the Beifa Sword Art but also the Lan Family’s swordsmanship. The two were skillfully merged, making her sword moves tricky and unpredictable. In the very first few strikes, Ning Songwu was forced into a somewhat flustered defense.

Lan Ze’s figure darted rapidly back and forth around her. Unlike the standard Beifa Sword Art, her moves made it impossible to guess where she would strike next. Ning Songwu gripped the Phoenix Feather Sword, her brows tightly furrowed, and sweat beaded on her forehead.

But her long period of arduous practice was not without effect. Her body had long since developed a highly alert instinct, allowing her to rely entirely on muscle memory to block every one of Lan Ze’s attacks.

Yet, she could only defend; she couldn’t find an opening to launch an attack.

Lan Ze sneered, “Heh! Little cripple, is this all you’ve got?” The rapid, high-frequency clanging of the two swords echoed continuously in the air. In the blink of an eye, more than ten sword maneuvers had passed. The surrounding spectators’ eyes were wide with excitement, afraid to miss a single spectacular moment.

In a pure clash of sword moves, the Phoenix Feather Sword’s advantages could not be brought into play, forcing her to rely solely on her own swordsmanship.

A cold voice suddenly flashed through her mind:

“Take this and wait for me in the Plum Garden. Today, I will teach you the introductory Beifa Sword Art.”

“Watch me closely. Memorize the posture of my sword-wielding and my footwork.”

“These are the six basic steps of the introductory sword art. You must practice these six steps well. All other more advanced techniques are derived from these six steps, and yet they are also constrained by them. Everything has its origin; the source is the simplest thing, and also the thing most capable of restraining all things.”

Derived from this… constrained by this…

Ning Songwu gritted her teeth, desperately visualizing Ran Fanyin’s beautiful and sharp movements when she first demonstrated the sword art: the thin sword blade passing instantly through delicate plum blossoms, everything flowing naturally, like moving water.

Ning Songwu concentrated her spirit, no longer letting her formation fall into chaos. Steadily executing the six basic steps, she seized an opening in Lan Ze’s defense. She ducked low to evade the long sword Lan Ze thrust from above, and her sharp Phoenix Feather Sword slashed toward Lan Ze’s waist, instantly severing the pendant hanging from her belt, which fell to the ground with a clanging sound.

“Excellent! What a beautiful move!” The surrounding crowd cheered loudly.

Lan Ze was humiliated and enraged. Her belt pendant had been cut off! How utterly shameful!

Lan Ze roared, employed her lightness skill, and leaped up, thrusting her sword toward Ning Songwu’s weak point—her right hand!

But Ning Songwu performed a move that completely surprised her: with a turn, she transferred the sword from her left hand to her right, forcefully parried Lan Ze’s long sword, and blocked the move.

How is that possible… Isn’t her right hand crippled?!

Ning Songwu continuously switched the Phoenix Feather Sword between her left and right hands, defending herself hermetically. She even caught several of Lan Ze’s oversights and nearly struck her multiple times. Lan Ze was gradually being forced onto the defensive.

How could this be! She had never once taken this cripple seriously, and it was only the fifth day… If she lost here, wouldn’t the Lan Family lose immense face!

Lan Ze’s eyes turned red. She exerted all her zhenqi (internal energy) and attacked Ning Songwu at the fastest possible speed, but Ning Songwu met every strike, growing more courageous with each exchange.

If that’s the case… then perhaps…

Lan Ze secretly clutched a handful of silver needles in her left hand and flung them out when Ning Songwu wasn’t paying attention!

Ning Songwu was greatly startled. She quickly swung her sword to block the sudden hidden weapons. As she raised the sword blade, she inadvertently exposed her most vulnerable and undefended area.

Desperate for victory, Lan Ze’s eyes were bloodshot. She raised her sword and thrust it toward Ning Songwu’s chest with almost no thought.

Following the faint sound of the sword blade tearing through cloth, the long sword phffft—plunged into the human body’s most vulnerable vital point, the heart.

Fresh blood spurted out, splashing onto Lan Ze’s face.

The bustling crowd was instantly shocked into silence.

Ning Songwu felt as if her heart had been brutally sliced open by something. The pain was so intense that she nearly fainted on the spot. She stared wide-eyed, disbelievingly at the long sword embedded in her body, then spat out a mouthful of blood that splattered onto the crimson Phoenix Feather Sword.

“Ah—I’ve killed you—” Lan Ze roared, violently yanked out the long sword, and struck Ning Songwu with a fierce palm strike, sending Ning Songwu flying off the high platform!

The soul seemed to have been gouged from Ning Songwu’s eyes. Her body was like a great bird that had been shot down, falling powerlessly from the towering, cloud-piercing platform. Her long hair and robes were whipped by the fierce wind into terrifying angles in the air. The continuously gushing blood swirled and danced as it fell, silently melting into the pure white clouds of the Beifa sky.

On the high platform at the opposite side of the equally towering Sword Discourse Platform, a white figure moved with the speed of light. In the blink of an eye, she flew across to that distant location and caught the falling Ning Songwu.

Ning Songwu’s blood-soaked appearance deeply stung Ran Fanyin’s heart. Her pale eyes, the color of pine tea, seemed on the verge of being stained crimson by the horrifying bloodstains on Ning Songwu’s body.