The white cloth that covered Jing Wen’s eyes resembled a flag fluttering in the winds as it trailed Jing Wen’s rapid pace atop the pavements. Jing Wen, in contrast, was more akin to a discharged arrow, travelling with the speed of eagles.
Jing Wen was not using qinggong, for his troubles with mana prevented him from doing as such. Nevertheless, his skills had allowed him to travel at tremendous speeds, while his work carrying the wooden box across the town allowed him to remember the layout of the town to near perfection. A frightening ‘woosh’ sound could be heard as his feet abruptly stopped before the Wang household.
The force he carried, however, did not. The trees overshadowing the Wang household walls swayed violently.
The tree before him parted, revealing a cottage within the courtyard.
Jing Wen ‘looked’ with an indifferent expression, and aimed his buffalo bone bow at the shack.
He was waiting for the moment Nangong Zhu would expose himself.
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Nangong Zhu was currently sighing with emotion. He gazed at the tied up Zhou Aimin and could not help but wonder how the Little Taoist could be so composed in such desire situation. Didn’t the books say that indifference is the greatest insult to a man? Could Zhou Aimin be looking down at him even from the position of a captive?
He removed the fabric blocking Zhou Aimin’s mouth and said, “Young master Zhou, over my years in Jianghu, I had learnt of a few poisons that target the spirit, particularly Gu (蛊) from the Nanyue (南越) people. To ensure that you don’t harm me after returning to Prince Qiao’s side, I have to implant one into you. Please forgive me for this.”
Zhou Aimin looked at Nangong Zhu for a long while, before saying, “Fellow Nangong, a gentleman doesn’t renegade on his words, if I return unharmed, I would not take revenge. However, to use something as precarious as Gu is ill-fitting of your status on the Xinqiannian.”
“How absurd! If the son of the infamous Ximo Sect, who rape and torture countless innocents, could take number two spot on the Xinqiannian, what’s wrong with using Gu poison?”
The moment he said the last word, Nangong Zhu took out a small scent wood box from his sleeves. Carefully unlocking it, he retrieved an insect similar in appearance to a silkworm, yet possessed a black and red hue, causing it to appear especially malicious. Seeking to provoke a reaction of fear from Zhou Aimin, he introduced the worm, “This Gu was placed within a jar along with 50 other poisonous creatures. After entering through your ears, it will begin to reside within your bloodstream, feeding off your essence blood and sucking your spirit, leaving you a slow, painful death. Even the most precious medicine will only leave it in a weakened state - you can only rely on me monthly for the remedy.”
The Gu in his hand, as if sensing Nangong Zhu’s intention, grew ecstatic, wiggling its plump and dark body, it gave off a content cry, sounding shrill and unpleasant, akin to grating an iron nail against a rough surface.
At this moment, Jing Wen exerted force on his right arm and hand. The bowstring was pulled out like a full moon, giving off its own buzz that offset the Gu’s cry. The arrow on the string was shaking slightly, but quickly turned calm, like a boulder resting against a cliffside.
When Nangong Zhu was about to place his hand next to Zhou Aimin’s ears, Jing Wen released his index and thumb slightly. The bowstring was violently thrown back and the arrow swiftly shot out like lightning, passing through the hunched trees, it tore the sky and went straight toward Nangong Zhu’s chest!
Nangong Zhu, feeling the imminent danger, did not hesitate to drop the Gu onto the ground to protect his life. He pulled the bamboo pole toward his body, and obstruct the path of the arrow.
‘Pu.’ With a muffled sound, the arrow, with far greater speed than any other, hit the bamboo pole with its body swirling rapidly. The arrowhead easily pierced through the bamboo and imbedded itself within Nangong Zhu. Signs of crimson could be seen blooming on his robes.
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Nangong Zhu, however, seemed unfazed by the bloody wound. The bamboo had prevented the body of the arrow from puncturing through along with its head. Although it was painful, he would not die from a simple skin-deep wound.
Still, he was aware that Jing Wen would not simply shoot one arrow. He glanced at the walls where Jing Wen shot the arrows, and stepped forward.
‘Pu, pu, pu.’ Three more arrows landed where Nangong Zhu had been standing, piercing into the ground so deeply only it’s tail could be seen. The second and third arrow had landed at the same place as the first, splitting the body of the arrow before it.
With an ordinary buffalo bone bow, he had done this. There was no doubt that Jing Wen’s mastery of the bow at an incredibly high level.
However, they did not hit Nangong Zhu, for he had disappeared!
A hint of furrow could be seen beneath the white cloth. Jing Wen turned his body to the side and took two steps back with unparalleled swiftness, landing on the peak of an artificial mountain.
Suddenly, a navy shadow emerged from the leaning trees. Within the blink of an eye, the bamboo pole shot out like bolts at Jing Wen’s throat.
Jing Wen moved his feet with a light shuffle and appeared behind the artificial mountain. Yet Nangong Zhu’s spear seemed have locked onto him - travelling through the small holes existing on the artificial mountain, the bamboo pole grazed Jing Wen’s neck, taking with it his blood and skin. The remnants of this tremendous force still managed to force Jing Wen to step back two steps, his feet misstepping onto the beginnings of the garden’s pond.
Jing Wen, feeling his cloth shoe growing soaked, had an expression of further displeasure. However, he was not shocked by his failings; after losing the initiative and forced to engage in close quarters, he had essentially lost all abilities to fight back. This was a flaw inherent to bows, not to mention his blindness leaving him unable to see the location of Nangong Zhu’s spear.
From the very beginning, he had no desire to defeat Nangong Zhu. He had merely aimed to create enough havoc to attract the attention of the village, and delay Nangong Zhu long enough for either the townsfolk or Zhou Aimin to free himself - at the least, he must not die from Nangong Zhu’s assault.
The muscles hidden beneath his white robes tightened suddenly, and his legs, as though containing hidden springs, leapt from the pond.
At the same moment, the bamboo pole appeared once more. With Jing Wen helpless in mid-air, he could not prevent the spear from taking another piece of flesh from his tight.
A hint of pain could be seen on Jing Wen’s face, yet nothing changed in his movement. With the thrust accumulated from gravity, he brutally crashed down onto a wooden bridge like a meteorite. The wooden bridge, of course, could not stand this. With a loud crunching sound, it collapsed into the water.
A moment later, Jing Wen leapt up from the debris, the blood leaving through his injuries splashing the surface of the pond, attracting fish to visit the broken bridge, which now appeared rather desolate.
Nangong Zhu, hidden among the trees like a tiger preparing to pounce again, saw through the laps between the leaves the calmness on Jing Wen’s face and felt his hand holding the bamboo stick grow stiff. Jing Wen’s expression could only be achieved an incredible degree of focus and soberness. He thought that if Jing Wen still possessed his vision, it would be impossible for his bamboo pole to even tear off a piece of that white robe, much less flesh.
The thought left Nangong Zhu terrified, his whole body growing cold from head to foot. At this moment, he was determined to kill Jing Wen.
The bamboo pole, accompanied by only the rustle of leaves, left the woods. Yet as it was about to make an impact with Jing Wen, the silent Zhou Aimin cried out with all his strength.
“Ren!”
In the compass, there exist 24 mountains, with Ren facing directly North. It was evident that Zhou Aimin was hinting at where Nangong Zhu was striking at. Yet how could the Little Taoist have caught sight of the bamboo pole from such a distance, and with Nangong Zhu hidden behind a row of trees?
Regardless, Jing Wen, upon hearing Zhou Aimin’s anxious shout, and moved his free hand without faltering, it was as though he was once more lifting the wooden box onto his back. With great force and steadiness, he forcefully blocked Nangong Zhu’s killing blow.
A small explosion tore through the air as the Qi concealed within the spear was released. From Jing Wen’s hand, as pale as white jade, blood began to seep as his skin parted like new leaves sprouting from ancient birch bark.
Moments later, the two separated, landing on two sides of the pond, now muddy from the stirred settlements as a result of the impact.
Jing Wen took out an arrow and drew the bow backwards. The sound of cracks could be heard as the buffalo bone suffered the strain from the fingers pulling the bow, which has begun to bleed due to the bowstring dug into his fingers.
A violent breeze blow through the garden, startling the surface of the pond and causing the snow gathered atop the eaves to swirl, temporarily covering the world in white.
‘Yi!’
Upon hearing this, Jing Wen swiftly took aim and loosened his fingers.
The tensed bowstring rubbed against his fingertips and sprung back at impossible speeds, snapping into two as the arrow shot out at even greater force!
The sharp arrow moved forward, with frightening woosh sound accompanying it, signifying that the arrow travelled even faster than the sound of the wind - as if the arrow had split air itself apart!
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Sho!
With the sound of tearing muscles, the arrow pierced through the chest of Nangong Zhu, before vanishing into the rows of trees. Only a long time later, can a ‘thud’ be heard at the other end of the courtyard.
Nanzhong Zhu felt like a hard and heaven wooden pole had crashed into his chest. Only after a long moment, did he realise there was something warm running down his chest. Then, the warmth became boiling hot.
He looked down instinctively at his chest and saw a gaping hole in his chest, of which the other side could be seen, was seen. Blood gushed out of his body and finally formed a crimson flower on his dark blue robes.
Shocked, Nanzhong Zhu looked more closely at the wet flower on his chest. An expression filled with astonishment and absurdity appeared on his increasingly pale face.
Unconsciously, he took one step forward.
Before he was a pond.
With no ground below his feet, he fell into the water.