Chapter 1 Looking Back at the Ordinary Family's Place (1/2)

Words : 1840 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Snow began to fall. At first, it wasn't heavy, but it showed no signs of stopping. Pale and vast, it seemed like the remaining ashes after a fire has burned out, silently falling from the thick, oppressive black clouds. With no moon in the sky and the clouds hanging low, the snow passed through the frigid pine forest, settling on the ground. Looking around, everything was a blur of indistinct white. Hong Feibai's breathing became more and more rapid. His sword had long been lost, and with his right hand, he clutched at his abdomen, where a large gash oozed blood incessantly through his fingers. This was the first snow after the onset of winter in the third year of the Great Yuan Era, unexpectedly fierce and cold. The biting cold invaded his body from the wound, continuously leeching heat from him. His inner strength had already been exhausted. What sustained him now was just the anger in his heart and the will to survive. Although he managed to shake off the pursuers temporarily with a trick, those people were after all from one of the three major sects. Their qinggong skills were beyond what he could imagine, and who knew when they would catch up to him. Hong Feibai let out another puff of white breath. In his line of sight, he spotted some lights, barely making out what appeared to be a small village, perhaps a few thousand households. The vague lights were peaceful and tranquil, the sounds of chickens and dogs barking suggesting an excellent hiding place. The young man gritted his teeth but did not head towards the village. Instead, he staggered and turned, running in another direction. After a few steps, he doubled back and loosened his grip, leaving a trail of fresh blood on the path he had chosen. A sight reminiscent of crimson plum blossoms amidst the white snow. Anyone with eyes could determine his direction. Those ruthless people would do unimaginable things if they thought I had entered the village. I must not bring trouble to others anymore... Hong Feibai felt slightly dizzy, raised his hand to lean on the tree trunk beside him, and took a deep breath, then staggered off in the direction indicated by the bloodstains, leaving a bloody handprint on the tree trunk. Having walked only a few steps, his right foot tripped over a stone on the path, and Hong Feibai plunged into the expanse of white snow face first. His cheek buried in the snow, the cool sensation made him feel somewhat relaxed. Despite the extremely cold temperature around him, his body felt a sense of warmth. His already strained consciousness began to dissipate. The snow grew heavier, gradually covering the young man. ..................... "Heaven and Earth are profound and yellow, the universe vast and primeval. The sun rises and sets, the stars and constellations stretch out. Cold comes and heat departs, autumn harvests, winter stores." S~eaʀᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Leap years complete the seasons, laws and music in harmony. Clouds rise to bring rain, dew congeals to frost. Gold generates in Lishui, jade emerges from Mount Kun." "The sword is called Jue Que, the jewel known as night's gleam." Hong Feibai regained consciousness to the sound of clear and resonant reading. Gently opening his eyes, after the initial bewilderment of awakening, the young man's expression changed. He tried to get up abruptly but at the same time felt a stab of pain, contorting his face as he took a few deep breaths before casting his eyes down to see that his abdominal wound had been treated and wrapped in white cloth, emitting a warm fragrance of medicinal herbs. Startled, the young man guessed that someone had saved his life. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire As he listened to the reading beside him, most of his wariness faded away. His taut nerves relaxed, and the surge of strength in his body dissipated, replaced by the pain of the torn wound. Hong Feibai grimaced, lying back down on the bed, his breathing somewhat rapid. After a dozen breaths or so, the pain subsided, and he was unaware of the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead. Only then did he have time to look around at his surroundings. It was a modest room that was quite tidy, with a simple wooden zither hanging on the wall and a crude terracotta pot on the windowsill, casually holding a plum branch. The zither among the white snow and red plum added an inexplicable sense of tranquility and charm to the ordinary village house. Through the wooden door, he could see seven or eight children sitting in the outer room, dressed quite plainly, far from resembling children of well-off city families. As far as he knew, these were ordinary village children who wouldn't have the opportunity to study. Yet, at the moment, these children recited meticulously, memorizing the entire Thousand Character Classic without a single mistake, a remarkable feat at their young age of learning. In front of these children stood a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old who looked around at the other children and said, "Now, copy down the third section." "The teacher will check when he returns..." The children nodded, taking coarse hemp paper from cloth bags made by their mothers. One by one, they ground the ink and lifted their brushes to copy the Thousand Character Classic, their youthful faces earnest and meticulous, bringing a sense of calm to Hong Feibai. Though few in this world could read and write, these children who recognized the characters had the chance to study. Even if they didn't read much, they could find decent jobs in the county town, far better than now. The young man sat up in bed, slowing his breathing, not disturbing the children, just quietly gathering his inner strength. He was pursued by enemies, and staying here would only trouble his benefactors. So he planned to recover a bit of strength and then leave. Moreover, he thought of the child who earlier mentioned a "Master". It seemed that this Master must surely be his savior. Respect appeared on Hong Feibai's face. Willing to stay in this harsh and cold place, truly a Confucian master at that, only he was now unlikely to witness this Master's grace... He sighed softly, the young man gently pushed open the window, and, placing his hand atop it, he drew upon the strand of inner strength he had just mustered, soared into the air, and landed outside the window. As he touched down, he also closed the window without letting the cold wind seep inside. After landing, the youth staggered, mainly because his wounds were far from healed which made his face paler than the snow on the ground, his breathing slightly rushed. But this was also due to the fact that he had just executed the true skills imparted by his Master. The Flying Crane Soaring Cloud Stance, this move, even among martial artists, was incredibly difficult to detect, let alone in this remote village. "You're badly hurt, you shouldn't be moving around..." For a moment, Hong Feibai's heart nearly stopped before he came to his senses. He slowly looked up only to find that the person before him wasn't the hermit master he had imagined, but a teenager, around sixteen or seventeen years old. Tall and standing straight, he wore plain clothes, his features particularly gentle, his black hair simply tied with a wooden hairpick, not particularly handsome but very clean-cut with bright eyes, one hand holding a bamboo basket. It seemed that he had just been shopping and by chance came this way. Having been too attentive to silence to avoid alerting the children inside, coupled with his unrecovered injuries, he hadn't noticed the youth outside. Realizing this, Hong Feibai finally breathed a sigh of relief and said: "It's not necessary..." The youth smiled and said: "Come inside first, the snow has stopped, it's cold outside." "Moreover, with how you are now, you won't be able to walk far. Better to eat something before you leave. Sharpening your axe will not delay the chopping of wood, why hasten at this moment?" He then lifted his bamboo basket, smiling, and said: "Speaking of which, today I went to the village head's place and got some soybeans. If you stew them with pork on a slow fire for two hours until the meat is tender and the soybeans are soaked in the broth..." "It's the most delicious to eat during winter..." Hong Feibai's stomach embarrassingly growled at the comment, the youth chuckled lightly, extended his hand to support Hong Feibai's arm, and walked towards the house. Hong Feibai's martial arts were quite good among the younger generation, but he felt no strength or martial prowess of his own as he followed the youth inside like a puppet. Nor did he feel any external force controlling him, just his own hunger compelling him to follow the youth involuntarily, regretting in his heart, yet he caught a glimpse of a wooden sword strapped to the youth's waist. Judging by the sword scabbard, it clearly had many years on it. With the creak of the wooden door opening, all the children turned their heads in unison. Hong Feibai felt his heart lurch, suddenly realizing he had no way to explain to the children how he had gone out. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he saw the children stand up, one by one, neatly and respectfully addressing the friendly young man beside him: "Master." Hong Feibai was taken aback, his eyes widening, as he looked at the sixteen or seventeen-year-old beside him. His mind had already made the connection, but he struggled to reconcile this image with that of the Confucian master he had imagined, left gaping and at a loss for words, he said: "You, you... are you..." "The Master?!" The youth gently stroked the head of a boy beside him, turned to look at him, and said: "The title 'Master' is just playful talk by the children; I'm merely teaching them to recognize a few characters. I genuinely don't deserve such a title." "You can address me simply by my surname." "I am..." "Wang Anfeng." PS: After much thought, I've decided to skip over the two years of seclusion and hard cultivation. Since I've already written a lot about such experiences in the last volume, what he did during these two years and the changes in Jianghu will be revealed in the upcoming story. I hope for everyone's support with this new volume. Thank you to Zhang Lang Xiaojian for the generous reward, Book friend Loa for the generous reward, the unnamed generous reward, Guang yu An0516 for the generous reward, thank you.

Chapter 1 Looking Back at the Ordinary Family's Place (1/2)

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