M49S Vol 1 Chapter 44. The Mysterius Man

One sword. Two swords. Countless swords.

Razor-sharp sword aura sliced through the night, shredding the willow leaves by the bridge and scattering them into a swirl of airborne fragments.

If one ignored the bleak killing intent and the figures hidden behind it all, then in that brief moment, the scattering leaves and flashing sword light would almost seem beautiful.

The only flaw was the overcast sky, which had swallowed the stars. Only a sharp crescent moon hung high above in quiet pride. Meng Qiqi seemed entranced. His sleeves danced with the sword aura as he looked up at the sky, his eyes filled with the faint glint of light. He stood perfectly still.

He was like a celestial under the moon, distant and unreachable.

But a sword shows no mercy. It is the coldest of weapons, and in a flash, even the throat of the night could be slit open. Yet Meng Qiqi was not alone. He had by his side the sharpest sword in the world.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Chen Boyan deflected each strike, never straying more than half a step from Meng Qiqi’s side. His sword was swift and graceful, elegant without losing its edge. He moved with such composed brilliance that even the act of wielding a blade called poetry to mind.

It was a shame Meng Qiqi could not write poetry. But at this moment, he seemed to understand the bold spirit of Zhou Ziheng, who had always lingered in wine and verse even amid bloodshed.

Wine could lead to missteps. Poetry served no purpose. But life was meant for such useless things.

Chen Boyan was his wine. His poem.

“Disciple nephew.” Meng Qiqi smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. His fingers slid along Chen Boyan’s arm like a snake, tracing over the back of his hand. Warm breath brushed his ear, and for a moment, Chen Boyan nearly forgot there were enemies all around.

In that brief instant of distraction, Meng Qiqi took Chen Boyan’s hand. At the same time, sword light flashed as his own blade pierced straight into the chest of a nearby shadow.

Just moments ago, he had still been a celestial figure apart from the world. In the next instant, he had become a ruthless killer, a true demon with blood on his hands. Meng Qiqi released Chen Boyan’s hand, drew Xiujian, and swept forward. With each swift step, he cut down several more shadows.

These shadows were not human. They seemed to be humanoid forms wrapped in black mist, neither illusions nor afterimages, yet fully capable of attacking. Meng Qiqi suddenly remembered something Zhou Ziheng had once said about Yin Mountain. Were these strange things the same as the ones from back then?

But now was not the time to verify it. If these shadows held no swords, then someone else had to be commanding them from behind.

Chen Boyan quickly followed. The two exchanged a glance and charged together.

Under the moonlight, a chill crept quietly across the rooftops. The bluestone paving in the alley shattered into countless fragments beneath the force of their sword aura. The slender crescent moon that had just barely shown itself was now completely hidden by clouds. Not a single star remained in the sky.

Meng Qiqi fought his way through, cutting down at least forty or fifty shadows, yet not one real person appeared. Just then, several more shadows surged out from a dark corner ahead and lunged toward him.

Meng Qiqi let out a cold laugh. “Tricks and phantoms.”

Xiujian spun into a sword blossom, but it was not a lotus. In the next instant, Meng Qiqi’s figure appeared behind the shadows. With a single sweeping strike, half of them were cut down.

At that moment, Chen Boyan struck. His sky-blue figure swept through the shadows, and in an instant, they scattered and vanished.

Meng Qiqi’s had already appeared on the rooftop. The pressure of his step shattered the black tiles beneath his feet. A cold gleam burst from Xiujian as several flying swords shot forth from the blade, streaking violently toward the empty rooftop.

“Come out!”

Clang!

A metallic ring came from the air. The concealed figure appeared and cleanly cut down the flying swords. It was a tall man dressed in black, wearing a plain white mask without a single ornament.

Black and white, clear and absolute, yet strangely uncanny.

Meng Qiqi halted his attack. The man lowered his sword as well. The two now stood at opposite ends of the rooftop. The man tilted his head slightly, studying Meng Qiqi, and laughed. “Meng… Xiu?”

“Who are you?” Meng Qiqi asked.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. I know who you’re looking for.” His voice was muffled, likely because of the mask.

Meng Qiqi raised an eyebrow and replied, “Then why don’t you tell me, who am I looking for?”

“Wuyan is in my hands.” The man tossed out the bait directly. “As long as you come with me, I’ll hand him over to you. How about it?”

“Not much of a deal,” Meng Qiqi replied with a smile tinged with mockery. “If you’re so kind, why not just tell me where he is?”

The man glanced at Chen Boyan, who was still momentarily entangled. “We’re being sincere. We simply want to invite you for a proper conversation. He wasn’t wrong. Your Lotus may only produce forty-nine strikes, but each one carries real force. It may not match Zhou Ziheng back in his day, but you’re more than qualified.”

Meng Qiqi showed no reaction, but inside, his thoughts were already in motion. Who was he? And who exactly were these “we”?

Meng Qiqi replied, “No matter how good I may be, I’m still no match for his one hundred and eight strokes, am I?”

“He…” The man had just begun to speak when he suddenly stopped short. “You’re trying to get me to talk.”

“I am.” Meng Qiqi smiled innocently.

The man was caught off guard by his candor and froze for a moment. Then he regained his composure, a flicker of cunning passing through his eyes.

“Since you already know who he is, you may as well come meet him. He’s waiting outside the city. I imagine you have a lot of questions for him.”

“Is that so? He’s just outside the city?” Meng Qiqi said, slowly walking forward with his sword in hand. “Then I do have a lot to ask him. Ask where he’s been all these years. Ask whether his conscience aches for tricking me into becoming the Little Martial Uncle of Gushan…”

The man remained wary, but figured Meng Qiqi was eager to see Zhou Ziheng again, so he kept a polite posture. What he didn’t expect was that Meng Qiqi would be speaking one moment and slashing the next.

“That old bastard Zhou Ziheng dares show his face again? He must have a death wish!” Meng Qiqi cursed as he struck. Every move struck at the man’s vital points. The sword was fast and precise, its killing intent drawn into a single thread. If Zheng Cheng were here, he would likely be staring in horror. This was what a true killing move looked like. Compared to Meng Qiqi, Zheng Cheng was still just a clueless brat barely learning what it meant to take a life.

A thin line of blood opened. The man stepped back quickly, and with a flick of his hand, several black shadows rushed in to block Meng Qiqi. He forced his breath to steady, trying to calm the shock still rippling through him. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the gash on his arm, and his gaze turned cold.

It seemed they had underestimated this Meng Qiqi. If he wasn’t mistaken, Meng Qiqi had just broken through to the third major realm, yet his strength far exceeded what would be expected at that stage.

“Meng Qiqi, are you really going to make an enemy of me?!” the man shouted, and raised his sword to block Meng Qiqi’s renewed assault.

Meng Qiqi answered with a merciless sneer. Xiujian flipped and deflected the man’s sword. At the same time, the blade arced again, the tip blooming into a silver lotus, and a terrifying pressure radiated outward.

“Whether we are enemies or not, let Zhou Ziheng come speak to me personally!”

The silver lotus blossomed in the man’s constricting pupils, transforming into flying swords that filled the sky, raining down upon him.

Forty-nine swords. While not as overwhelming as one hundred and eight, this did not change one fact. Forty-nine swords was already more than enough!

The man retreated rapidly, one hand using the sword to block while the other summoned shadows to intercept the flying swords. In an instant, the rooftop was filled with black mist as the shadows scattered. Among the dark clouds, shards of tiles and flashes of sword light flew, and at the center of it all, the blade churned in a vortex. With one sweep, it released a sound like wind and thunder.

Chen Boyan suddenly looked up. He was surrounded by too many shadows, and two black-clad figures constantly interfered with his movements, preventing him from breaking free.

He had intended to observe the conversation between Meng Qiqi and the man.

But change often comes in the blink of an eye. Chen Boyan only heard a sharp command, “Catch that!” before a letter drifted down from above.

The two figures blocking Chen Boyan’s path saw the letter. Though they didn’t know what it was for, they immediately attempted to intercept it. But Chen Boyan would not let them succeed. He stopped holding back, his sword rising in a sudden, powerful sweep. With one strike, he blocked one of them and kicked the other away, snatching the letter out of the air.

The letter was swiftly stored in his spatial ring. Chen Boyan immediately turned and followed the direction Meng Qiqi had taken. But after ten breaths, he was forced to stop.

He stood atop the high eaves of a tavern, gazing out over the glowing, lantern-lit city of Jinling. The red lanterns along the river twisted into a dragon shape, and the nobility, who would not return until drunk, still lingered in the flickering candlelight, savoring the beauty of a woman’s crimson lips.

Where had Meng Qiqi gone?

The pursuit from earlier had long since disappeared, and everything that had happened seemed like an illusion from a dream of Jinling’s prosperity, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Chen Boyan couldn’t help but smile. He had been watching Meng Qiqi from the shadows. Meng Qiqi, no doubt, had been keeping an eye on him too. As for the group they had just encountered, Meng Qiqi surely knew something, but he had left Chen Boyan behind and rushed off, likely to prevent him from learning too much.

Yet, strangely, Chen Boyan’s first instinct was to worry for his safety. This made him doubt whether he had fallen under the spell of someone named “Meng Qiqi.”

Meanwhile, on top of the Lion Tower, Wang Wan’nan sat, staring in the direction where the lotus had just bloomed. He raised a roasted pig’s foot and took a hearty bite. He suspected that Zhou Ziheng’s wicked descendants were up to something again. It was becoming bothersome. He just wanted to find a quiet place to drink and eat meat, but why was it so difficult?

After a while, his mind returned to the disgraceful performance of Wang Ziqian earlier that day. He nearly choked on his meat.

“Shameful, utterly shameful…” Wang Wan’nan muttered, glancing at the sky. It looked like rain was coming.

The next day, the competition continued, and that day’s event was the literary test.

In the cultivation world, a literary test was not about the usual subjects like music, chess, calligraphy, or poetry. Instead, it focused on cultivation techniques. Early in the morning, the Wang family posted a partially incomplete cultivation technique at the tower in the center of the arena. This technique was named “Wind and Thunder Technique.” Mastering it would grant the ability to summon wind and thunder.

There are countless cultivation techniques in the world, including sword techniques and sabre techniques, all diverse and varied. Among them, the Wind and Thunder Technique is one of the few that does not restrict the type of weapon used. If cultivated to its full potential, its power is boundless. For the Wang family to bring it out, it could be said they are being exceedingly generous.

Wang Changlin stood with his hands behind his back on the balcony, watching the cultivators on the terrace with a demeanor both gentle and filled with authority. He spoke, “Today’s contest is simple: whoever can grasp this incomplete technique and summon the most lightning will win.”

Upon hearing these words, the cultivators immediately readied themselves, especially the rogue cultivators. Opportunities to encounter such techniques were rare for them, and even though this one was incomplete, it still filled them with excitement.

Only a few with sharp minds glanced up in confusion at the elders on the seventh floor. Where did Meng Xiu from Gushan Sword go?