Chapter 17

T.L/N
(I will make some changes)

‘Hidden dragon pavillion’ to ‘Qianlong Pavilion’
I just realised that ‘Bu Xueyao’ is a ‘she’

…

For a moment, all was silent in Qianlong Pavilion so silent one could hear a pin drop.

Then came a cold, scornful laugh from Xie Wuyi, breaking the stillness like a blade through silk.

He leapt lightly onto a plum blossom stake, slowly drawing the Duanshui blade. As the weapon emerged, the very wind seemed to pause, clouds stilled in the sky, and the twilight grew dimmer, as though retreating in reverence.

Bathed in a no longer scorching sunlight, Ye Fusheng rubbed his pounding temples. Forcing down the turbulent qi in his chest, he untied the black blindfold and stepped into the shaded corridor, just barely able to make out the two figures standing over the water.

Li Feng reached for the long saber at his waist, unsheathing it with measured grace. The blade was semi-transparent, like a piece of pure white glass crystalline and fluid in the twilight, as if capturing the glimmer of autumn waters in a beautiful woman’s eyes. It contrasted sharply with his own cold and ruthless aura, exuding a tender, almost intimate elegance.

“this blade called Xueqing. I challenge your Duanshui!”

As his words fell, a glint of the blade flashed like a sidelong glance from a beauty lifting her brow, graceful and elusive, falling upon the opponent in the blink of an eye.

Beautiful blade, swift strike, ruthless man!

One moment, he was three zhang away from Xie Wuyi; the next, he was in striking distance, the tip of his blade nearly grazing Xie’s neck like a gentle kiss from a maiden’s lips.

But almost wasn’t enough.

Duanshui swept out from a sleeve with uncanny precision, interposing itself between throat and blade at the very last instant. With a deft twist, it turned on Li Feng’s hand.

Li Feng let go without hesitation. Duanshui traced a deadly arc toward his neck, but he caught Xie’s wrist mid-swing. With his free hand, he reclaimed Xueqing and thrust toward Xie’s abdomen.

“Hmph!”

Fast was an understatement. Xueqing pierced through cloth and broke skin, tasting warm blood.

But Li Feng could not smile.

His right hand, shocked by Xie’s inner force, flew open. Duanshui’s momentum did not falter. Xueqing had barely pierced half an inch when Duanshui was already at his throat.

He retreated, blood beading from an almost invisible cut. A little further, and it would have sliced his windpipe.

Another cold laugh rang out. Blades clashed with a shriek that hurt the ears. Duanshui and Xueqing collided, tangled, and separated again this time in a raw contest of power and speed. No feints, no tricks. Just pure skill and strength.

Each strike thundered like lightning, each step made the stakes sink deeper.

Another collision this time silent but from the pond, towering plumes of water burst forth!

Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes. “Could it be…”

Mist swirled under the falling dusk, glistening like storm-lit rain. From the curtain of water, Li Feng emerged. Xie Wuyi had not.

A moment later, Xueqing shot out, breaking through droplets with a howl. All of Li Feng’s strength, spirit, and intent poured into this strike. The blade came like a mountain crashing down unrelenting, inescapable.

Fast. Brutal. Peerless.

He believed no one could dodge it.

Some spectators averted their eyes, unwilling to witness the Sword Master of Duanshui be struck down.

The blade tore through the mist. Xie Wuyi’s hand stirred.

Duanshui carved a circle before him, qi pulling the surrounding mist into a swirling current, locking onto the oncoming Xueqing.

The tender touch of a lover’s hand.

The lingering flow of a river’s embrace.

A battle of life and death, where no retreat was possible.

At the instant the blades crossed, silence fell. Lu Mingyuan dropped his fan; Bu Xueyao turned deathly pale; Ye Fusheng sighed long and low.

When the clash ended, their blades merely passed by.

A hint of a smile remained on Li Feng’s face. He had thrust Xueqing into Xie Wuyi’s chest.

And yet he had passed by.

Standing behind Xie Wuyi, holding the hilt of Xueqing now embedded in his chest, was… himself.

What had happened?

Xueqing had pierced the chest just a bit more and it would’ve reached the heart. Xie Wuyi staggered but did not fall. He sealed his acupoint, stopped the bleeding, and slowly pulled out the blade along with the severed hand still clutching it and threw it before Bu Xueyao.

The hand landed three steps before her, fingers still twitching.

No one had reacted. No one had seen the strike.

Only now did Li Feng feel the agony, like his soul being torn.

His body trembled, blood soaking his side and staining the pond a pale red.

Pale-faced, he forced out two words: “Canglan…?”

Xie Wuyi smiled, wiped blood from his lips, and flipped his wrist. Duanshui was in hand once more.

For a brief moment, he seemed thirteen years younger free, wild, and unburdened, as he once was in the western regions.

“When rivers are muddied and mountains unclear, I’ll cut through with a single blade.”

“This hand…” Xie Wuyi tilted his chin arrogantly, “is to teach you a lesson. No matter how loud a dog barks, not everyone spares it out of respect for its master.”

Shock spread across the Soul-Burying Palace. The righteous side nearly cheered.

“To turn the tide…” Ye Fusheng’s mind cleared in that instant. As he gazed at Xie Wuyi’s silhouette, he saw the blade that once ruled the martial world.

He is the number one under heaven. Without question.

Bu Xueyao’s expression darkened. Her lips curled slightly, inching sideways.

Lu Mingyuan cleared his throat, glanced at the sky, and declared, “Then the winner of this contest Duanshui Villa-”

He hadn’t finished when the long-silent Xie Zhongshan lunged from his wheelchair toward Bu Xueyao!

At the same time, Ye Fusheng, sensing danger, infused his blindfold with inner force and threw it to block two silver needles aimed at Xie Wuyi!

Only Xie Zhongshan and Ye Fusheng had noticed Bu Xueyao’s treachery.

Exposed, Bu Xueyao didn’t flinch. She grabbed Xie Zhongshan’s throat, kicked up Xueqing, and landed beside Li Feng.

Suddenly, battle cries rang out beyond the wall chaos erupted in an instant!

Bu Xueyao’s laughter trembled with excitement, but her grip on Xueqing was steady.

“Master Xie, what exquisite swordplay…”

Li Feng turned, ghost-pale, eyes blazing like corpse-fire.

Despite his mutilation, he laughed—wild and unrestrained.

Excited.

What for?

The incense on the altar had long burned out, but a faint scent still lingered.

Ye Fusheng, Xie Wuyi, and Lu Mingyuan all turned pale.

Blades were drawn on the corridor.

But the moment the righteous warriors circulated their inner force they collapsed, dizzy and weak.

Lu Mingyuan gripped a column to stay upright. Across from him, familiar faces emerged from the Soul-Burying Palace’s ranks disguised as innkeepers and servants all along.

“So that’s how it is…”

“All your meals these days were courtesy of our Soul-Burying Palace,” Bu Xueyao said sweetly. “We even had our ‘Tianzhu’ serve your tea. Since you gave no tip, we simply took our due ‘Lovesick Tears’ in your food, ‘Mind-Scatter’ in your incense. Alone, harmless. Together, a perfect sedative. The stronger your martial arts, the faster you fall.”

What wounds the spirit more than anything? Lovesick tears like rain.

Xie Wuyi growled, “What do you want?”

“Such gallant skill,” Bu Xueyao murmured, pressing Xueqing to Xie Zhongshan’s neck. “A man like you proud, vengeful won’t be left alive. If we let you go, you’ll return with a vengeance. So…”

“If you want my life,” Xie Wuyi sneered, “come take it yourself.”

Bu Xueyao smiled. “We don’t dare gamble your resistance to the drugs. We only want profit. Pay the right price you may buy your lives.”

Insults erupted. One man spat, “We’d rather die like dogs than beg you like cowards!”

A sword silenced him tongue torn from his mouth.

“I’m speaking to Lord Xie,” Bu Xueyao cooed. “As I was saying… You harmed my dear Li, and refuse to kneel to our Palace. So, if you don’t want to watch your villa drown in blood, your father die before your eyes please, kill yourself.”

Xie Wuyi laughed coldly.

He raised his blade toward Bu Xueyao. “Of all things in life, I despise threats the most.”

He sprang forward, blade flashing!

Bu Xueyao recoiled, raising Xueqing to parry. Just then, Xie Zhongshan seized her.

Xueqing slashed his throat, spraying blood on Bu Xueyao’s face. He clung to her, stalling her just long enough.

Duanshui closed in.

Li Feng caught her, pulled her back, and hurled Xie Zhongshan at Xie Wuyi. Both retreated onto the roof.

From there, they saw the chaos spilling into the streets.

Xie Wuyi caught his father’s body but he was already dead.

No one knew why he grabbed Bu Xueyao. No one knew what he meant to say.

Life and death came and went leaving nothing behind.

Xie Wuyi stood in a daze, numb. He finally let go. The corpse slid into the water.

His qi surged chaotically. Pain gnawed his bones like ants.

The poison had taken hold. Internal injuries flared. It was the end of the seventh day dusk.

The end of a hero’s path.

Yet he smiled. A crooked, mocking smile.

He looked at Li Feng and Bu Xueyao as if they were already corpses.

“Such scheming. Such planning. Pity…”

Li Feng frowned. “Pity what?”

“Did you ever wonder… why I insisted on hosting this duel here at Duanshui Villa?”

He straightened, eyes glowing. For a moment, the sickly man looked radiant like a blade shedding rust to reveal deadly brilliance.

“Because from the very beginning…”
“…I never planned to let you leave alive.”

Li Feng and Bu Xueyao paled.

At the north wall, Xue Chanyi pressed a hidden mechanism.

With a rumble, Duanshui Villa burst into flames!

…..

Duanshui: “Water-Cutter.” A symbolic blade that represents cutting through emotions and fate its name itself is poetic.

Xueqing: “Snow-Cleared Sky.” A blade name often used to convey cold beauty, clarity, and emotional undercurrents.

Plum Blossom Stakes: Martial arts training pillars that require excellent balance and footwork. They also symbolize elegance in traditional Chinese aesthetics.