Chapter 435 - 105: Tiger Head Weapon (1/2)

Words : 2064 Updated : Oct 16th, 2025

In the righteousness hall. Wang Anfeng, clad in white, stood in the courtyard with his eyes half-closed, with no intention of inquiring Hong Feibai just yet. Even though he truly had many questions he wanted to ask him. But Wang Anfeng understood better that now was not the time to disturb Hong Feibai, no matter the issue or reason; it would be too cruel. Wang Anfeng let out a breath of turbid air. Jianghu itself was cruel enough. The night was silent and quiet, his eyes half-closed as he stood in the courtyard, his senses naturally spreading outward, his mind serene. But at that moment, he detected a different kind of aura about a dozen yards away from him. The qi mechanism was gloomy and cold, with a thick intent to kill that made him uncomfortable. Wang Anfeng's eyes snapped open as he turned to look in that direction. The owner of that qi had seemingly noticed Wang Anfeng's movement, hesitated on the spot for a split second, then without hesitation, turned and dashed away at an astonishing speed. Wang Anfeng's pupils widened slightly, a serene light flashing in their depths like a sword being unsheathed. His vision instantly narrowed, and he saw the deep, ink-like night. He saw the figure of someone using qinggong to leap away. Dressed in dark clothing, with a sword hanging at the waist. All of these were common; in any Great Qin city one could easily find hundreds of martial artists dressed this way. However, the man also carried on his back a longsword made of green bamboo. With Wang Anfeng's ocular power, he could even vaguely make out a black mask covering the other's face, presumably fierce-looking. Any martial artist active in the Fufeng area of the Forgotten Immortals Jianghu would not find such attire unfamiliar. Yi Nanping. Murderer! Fake!!! Wang Anfeng's eyes widened slightly, and a flurry of words sprang to mind while the shrill voice of his third master suddenly rang in his ears. The voice sounded excited no matter how he listened to it. "Little crazy, whack him!" The voice of Hong Luoyu vanished in an instant, replaced by the sound of gagging with a rag stuffed in the mouth and then the sound of rushing through the air at high speed. Then even that sound disappeared. Wang Anfeng chuckled to himself and felt more at ease, knowing that the murderer, as Yan Ling had said, had indeed appeared at the righteousness hall. Without a second thought to speaking with Hong Feibai, he took a step forward, moving like a swiftly flying swan, instantly crossing a distance of over a dozen yards. The other's qinggong seemed unremarkable to him; according to his third master, it was as slow as a turtle crawling. He intended to catch up in the second step. But at that moment, he recalled another matter and slowed down. Letting the other use qinggong to slowly sprint away, he merely followed far behind with his own qinggong and pupil skill, until the man was quite far from him. He took a deep breath, soared up like a giant whale transforming into a flying roc, and in a blink, he ascended into the sky. One chased, the other fled. In an instant, they had left the ominous righteousness hall behind them; they did not head toward Fengyue County Town, but after running about a dozen miles, the black-clad, masked martial artist finally slowed down. He did not feel the presence of the white-clad youth. Presumably, he had not been pursued. With that thought, he breathed a sigh of relief and a sense of pride rose within him. Indeed, even those with superior martial arts could only eat dust behind him when it came to qinggong. That's why he was chosen to impersonate 'Yi Nanping'. For ease of action, he still wore the Bi'an mask, which now made him feel somewhat suffocated. There was a dense forest nearby; lush and verdant in summer. Although it was deep winter now, it was still suitable for covering his tracks. He took off the sword from around his waist, held it in his hand, and walked into the withered forest to wait for his companion. High above, Wang Anfeng gently tapped his right foot in the air. Two different gusts of wind revolved around his body, stabilizing his form in mid-air without making a sound. Under the moonlight, his normally dark pupils were now somewhat translucent. Like the Ice Jade Essence prized in the Northern Lands, his ocular power pierced through the blockage of night, observing the person below. Watching as the man sat cross-legged on the ground, his sword resting on his lap. The sword was slender, its hilt carved with the fierce, domineering head of a tiger. Wang Anfeng's gaze paused on the tiger's head, then shifted away. After all, it was common for martial arts weapons to be engraved with fierce beasts to bolster their killing aura; it was not worth paying more attention to. Using the lightness skills of the Divine Thieves Sect, he forcibly remained in the air, intending to follow the lead and wait for 'Yi Nanping's' companion down below. However, things did not go as planned. Shortly after waiting for about a quarter of an hour, the martial artist below suddenly stood up. The figure disguised in a black mask looked around, only to see the dimming sky, his heart beginning to sink. None came. And there was no signal... Anxiety flickered in his eyes. Before the action, they had agreed to meet here regardless of the outcome. Even if there was no time to come, they would fire a special signal arrow. When shot into the sky, it would burst into a brilliant display of fireworks, visible for tens of miles. But now the sky above remained deep, quiet, and undisturbed. Clearly, there had been many unexpected complications with the plan. Possibly already dead. With this thought, he knew he should no longer wait idly here. If he waited any longer, what might come would not be his companion but potentially fatal danger. He also thought back to the white-clothed man he had seen at the righteousness hall. The courtyard was filled with black coffins, the night as dark as ink, and paper money fluttered chaotically amidst white banners. Even as a warrior accustomed to killing, he couldn't help but feel numb at the sight. Recalling that moment now sent shivers down his spine, and without any further hesitation, he turned and sprinted away from Fengyue City, employing his movement technique to escape. At this moment, a sense of fortuitous luck arose in his heart. Fortunately, he had turned to run the moment he sensed something was wrong. Had he charged forward to fight, he might have been lying dead by now. His cautious approach had allowed him to stand out among his many companions and survive until this day in the martial world of Jianghu. Worried about being pursued, he constantly changed direction during his flight, leaving behind various traces intended to mislead his pursuers with great skill. Then, with the finest silk from the Jiangnan Road, he carefully wiped away any possible remaining traces. Looking at the last disguised spot, he breathed a sigh of relief, took a deep breath, and leaped into the air. Not wanting to leave any trace, he refrained from using his qi force and leaped up using only his physical strength. As he was mid-air, he threw out a copper coin, used it to gain leverage, and propelled himself a few dozen feet further before lightly landing on a rock. He turned back to look at the last disguised spot. Confidence filled his heart. With his arrangements, even if the elite from the Ministry of Punishment came, they would never guess his true direction of escape. Thus, he relaxed and hurried southward. There was a dilapidated Taoist temple there. That was one of the escape routes he had prepared for himself. But after rushing a few more miles and finally seeing the temple, he felt at ease, knowing that once inside and changed into a Taoist robe, he could elude the pursuing guards. Joy appeared in his eyes, but his steps suddenly came to a halt. His pupils shrank. Ten yards ahead stood a young man in white clothes, holding a longsword in its scabbard with his left hand. The scabbard was so dark it blended into the night, nearly invisible, yet he could sense the oppressive qi mechanism emanating from it. The man's heart nearly stopped, and then a profound disbelief took hold. And with that disbelief, even anger began to bubble up. To him, this situation was infinitely more frustrating than the fact that he had been caught. It was impossible for him to be seen through! How could he be caught in such a small place? I've used seventeen techniques, and I've erased my traces. I also used six different combinations. Unless he can fly. No, it must be luck – definitely luck! Pride within the man shattered, and he almost neglected the danger present, failing to turn and flee as he usually would. Wang Anfeng looked up at the Bi'an mask on the man's face and the green bamboo wooden sword on his back, considering Yan Ling's judgment on the case before taking a deep breath. The air was slightly chilly, helping to suppress the uncontainable rage arising within him. He held the longsword at an angle, blocking the path ahead. Blocking the way of 'Yi Nanping' and his retreat. The other was less than ten paces from the Taoist temple, a distance that wouldn't take more than three breaths to cover. The wooden sword was held diagonally. A mere three-foot Qingfeng was like an invisible high wall, preventing the warrior from taking even a single step forward. Wang Anfeng glanced at the warrior, lowered his gaze, and said, "This path is closed." The path of life was closed. seaʀᴄh thё NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. ............… In the sound of tearing fabric, a piece of cloth was ripped from the hem of his vermilion clothes. Yan Ling quickly bandaged the wound on his body. The pain, which was suppressed during the fierce battle, now felt more persistent than ever, making it hard for even him to ignore as his brows furrowed slightly. Yet even so, his movements did not show the slightest hesitation or distortion. He hid the body of the White Tiger Hall member in a concealed place and searched the warrior's body for any hidden items. As expected, apart from the knockout drug and some silver coins, he found nothing of value. Except for a dagger belted at the warrior's waist. Sharply forged, it was three times deadlier than any weapon the owner usually wielded, with a fierce tiger carved into the handle. The hierarchy within the White Tiger Hall was strict; ordinary Lower Third Rank martial artists didn't even have the right to know the true nature of the organization they served. They simply executed orders like bladed tools in a martial artist's hand. Killing, plundering treasures. Or carrying out protection. Or spreading rumors. Ascending higher in rank, they could practice profound martial arts and know a little about the organization's internal affairs, undertaking somewhat weightier tasks. This caliber of a warrior was not a disposable pawn and was listed by name in the White Tiger Hall records, possessing materials proving their identity: a ferocious, domineering tiger carving. And in the records kept by the Ministry of Punishment on the White Tiger Hall, they also gave these individuals a fitting name. They were called "hunter ghosts." Hunter ghosts kill. Yan Ling gazed intently at the dagger, the carved tiger seeming even more fierce under the moonlight, and casually placed it in his pocket. With the Great Qin Broad Saber in his right hand, he stood up, discerned the direction, and swiftly made his way toward the righteous burial grounds. PS: Offering up the first update of the day... A special thanks to the book friend 140628091053739 for the generous rewards, I'm truly very grateful (bows)...

Chapter 435 - 105: Tiger Head Weapon (1/2)

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