Rain still dripped outside the mountain temple. Xue Ling looked at Fang Bie, who was calmly handling the corpse, and couldn't help but ask, "What is this?"
"Corpse powder," Fang Bie said succinctly.
"Corpse powder?" Xue Ling repeated in disbelief, "Does this thing really exist?"
"I originally thought it didn't exist, but if something like martial arts can exist, then it's not surprising that corpse powder can exist as well." Fang Bie replied calmly, as if it was a matter of course. "Looking at the principle, it should use a violent redox reaction of flesh and blood, equivalent to low-intensity combustion. The formula is interesting, and it's convenient to carry, though a bit dangerous."
The boy's subsequent words were like a soliloquy.
Ning Huaiyuan's body was still bubbling on the ground. Aside from the slightly unpleasant smell, his remains were truly dissolving bit by bit.
Xue Ling nodded, but before she could say anything, Fang Bie handed her an iron box with a wristband: "Here, this is your trophy."
"Mine?" Xue Ling was stunned, looking at the iron box. It had a shiny silver metal wristband that could be easily buckled on the wrist, but the iron box was completely closed. For a moment, Xue Ling didn't understand what this thing was.
"What is this?"
"You can call it a Rolex if you like," Fang Bie said with a smile. "But this is the flexible sword used by Ning Huaiyuan. When not in use, the blade is hidden in this iron box and can be worn on the wrist."
"And when a sneak attack is needed, a simple flick of the sword can eject it, catching the enemy off guard. The flexible sword's blade is both sharp and flexible, making it a rare and unique weapon, especially effective when carried by a woman."
Xue Ling's heart fluttered as she listened to Fang Bie's exaggerated words. After all, she hadn't played a significant role in the assassination, yet she had obtained such a precious weapon. Xue Ling was also knowledgeable. Such weapons were unprecedented, yet they were extremely sophisticated and incredibly powerful.
"How could Ning Huaiyuan have such a thing?" Xue Ling couldn't help but ask.
Was this Ning Huaiyuan really just a Huashan disciple?
"Probably." Fang Bie looked at Ning Huaiyuan's gradually disappearing body and sighed softly: "Probably, he is an ambitious person."
"Although his swordsmanship is all Huashan swordsmanship, it has some mixed ideas, such as the cold soul silver needle of the Luo Sect, the blood burning skill of the Demon Sect, I don't know how many places he went to to learn such a mess of martial arts..."
But he was so powerful, but he died at your hands? Xue Ling looked at the young man in front of him with a faint expression. Fang Bie had no intention of flattering himself, and even his description was light.
"If Ning Huaiyuan hadn't met us, would he have become a very powerful character?" Xue Ling asked tentatively.
"Who knows?" Fang Bie said. "After all, how can anyone know what the future holds, no matter how far it is?"
"But when a person dies, all possibilities vanish, all dreams, all futures become nothing."
Fang Bie spoke with an inexplicable sense of emotion. "Just as Ning Huaiyuan never imagined I'd come with a set of barbed wire to kill him, I don't know where in this world I'll end up."
"But," Fang Bie turned back, looked Xue Ling in the face, and said seriously, "If we can avoid death, we should try."
"Because being alive is truly a beautiful thing."
Xue Ling nodded, half-comprehending. He felt a little strange that the assassin before him, who specialized in taking lives, cherished life so dearly.
"Right," Xue Ling said, glancing at Yue Pingshan, who lay unconscious at his feet. His fellow apprentice, with whom he had shared a deep affection and hatred, had now transformed into a wisp of smoke and ascended into the sky. What should be done with him?
Although Xue Ling deeply did not want to kill him, everything depended on Fang Bie's wishes.
After the previous battle, Xue Ling had to trust this assassin who often seemed to have some problems - because no matter how problematic he was, he was still really powerful.
"What should we do with this guy?" When saying this, Xue Ling looked at Fang Bie's hands with a guilty conscience. His fair little hands were empty.
But Xue Ling clearly remembered that Fang Bie looked very handsome when he sprinkled corpse powder.
Although he looked very embarrassed by the stink of the corpse powder.
"What else can we do?" Fang Bie smiled, his smile was clean and warm.
He seemed to always be this kind of person, making people feel that they couldn't see through him, just like when Xue Ling followed him into the clean, minty room, but then he took a dagger and pushed Xue Ling against the wall.
"We only kill the targets of the mission and only chop off valuable heads."
"He is not within our assassination range."
"But." Xue Ling bit her lip: "Didn't he see you?"
"Did he?" Fang Bie smiled: "He clearly only saw a beggar named Dog Bastard."
"Does it have anything to do with me, Fang Bie?"
...
...
When Yue Pingshan woke up the next day, he felt dizzy and a little painful in his head.
Sunlight shone through the cracks in the house and shone on the blue brick floor.
There were chirping insects outside the temple.
He opened his eyes and saw the beams and arches of the mountain temple, which were a little blackened by smoke, and the lonely swallow's nest on the beams.
Haven't the swallows come back yet?
He tilted his head and saw only a pile of bonfire embers on the blue brick floor.
Where is this? Who am I? What should I do?
The three philosophical questions instantly flooded Yue Pingshan's mind.
He sat up from the ground with difficulty and saw his Mars Sword lying on the ground, the ruby on the hilt sparkling.
Seeing this sword, countless memories came to his mind in an instant.
Last night, fellow apprentices, enjoying wine and meat around the campfire, suddenly clashed with swords. Ning Huaiyuan's shimmering, eerie soft sword, the Luo Sect's cold soul silver needles, the Demon Sect's blood-burning technique—so many hidden secrets he had never seen before were revealed from that normally innocuous apprentice. In that instant, Yue Pingshan felt a chill run down his spine. "
Why am I still alive?" he wondered, and the image of the little beggar who had rushed into the mountain temple came to mind.
Was it him?
Yue Pingshan thought of how he had effortlessly dodged Ning Huaiyuan's three deadly sword strikes with incredible ease, forcing Ning Huaiyuan to sue him.
What happened next? He had no clear memory of what happened next.
But there was no doubt that he had been saved by this hidden beggar hero.
What was that hero's name?
Gou Zazhong?
Yes!
Gou Zazhong.
He looked at the mountain god with a broken arm in the temple, his mind racing, unable to control himself.
After a long moment, he knelt on the ground, prostrating himself before the ground in respectful obeisance.
"Huashan Yue Pingshan, I kneel to thank the hero Gou Zazhong for saving my life."
The blue bricks and stones shattered beneath his head with a crisp sound.
A black swallow flew in through the broken entrance to the mountain temple and landed in a swallow's nest on the main beam.
It chirped once.
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(End of this chapter)