Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 441 - 111: Ambushed by Pursuers (1/2)

The Heavenly Sword Sect in Fufeng’s Jianghu is not considered an extremely formidable sect, but it is also not mediocre.

To establish a sect, one naturally needs some capabilities.

There are plenty of people in Jianghu who are brave and love to fight fiercely.

On that mountain, without any top-tier masters, it is said that there is an old man who survived from the previous generation, his martial arts are of the Fifth Rank, and his swordsmanship is truly reflective of the "Heavenly Sword"; it is swift, fierce, and as vast as the heavens, attacking with momentum that is nearly impossible to defend against.

Besides him, the current sect leader and the heirs of the four peaks are all Sixth Rank martial artists.

They are masters who can traverse the air effortlessly.

The only pity is the lack of top-notch fighters; otherwise, taking advantage of the opportunity when Fire Refining Sect secluded themselves and Pharmacist Valley was wiped out, stepping forward to challenge groups like Crimson Refinement Gang would not be a problem, rather than being in such a dire situation. Around their periphery, numerous somewhat weaker sects watch with eager eyes.

All waiting for that old senior propping up the Heavenly Sword Sect’s plaque to breathe his last.

When that time comes, even though the Heavenly Sword Sect will still have five Sixth Rank martial artists, they will no longer have a Fifth Rank expert to take up the leadership, and they will certainly have to yield many benefits.

Therefore, the closer he got to the Heavenly Sword Sect’s territory, the more cautious Hong Feibai became.

He wasn’t afraid of a fight at all; in fact, with the somber mood in his heart right now, he wished to engage in a good few brawls. However, if his junior sister’s body were to be damaged in the process, then even if he chopped the attackers into seven or eight pieces, it would be of no use.

When buying dry food and replenishing water in the last county town, he even wore a mask to cover his face.

He saw Wang Anfeng walk out.

When he returned, he had a longsword in a scabbard in his hand and a large handful of Copper Coins in his arms.

Hong Feibai glanced at the longsword in the young man’s hand.

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Now that Wang Anfeng was carrying a qin on his back, after more than ten days of travel, Hong Feibai looked even more ragged and aged, but it seemed to have no effect on Wang Anfeng.

With sparkling eyes and an air of scholarship about him, anyone would believe he had scholarly achievements; but now he held an Iron Sword from a blacksmith shop, one that even had a scabbard made from two pieces of wood nailed together, a simple and rudimentary item.

His nonchalant and unarmed appearance was quite mismatched.

Wang Anfeng noticed Hong Feibai’s gaze, raised the sword in his hand, smiled, and said,

"Having a weapon in hand is more reassuring."

Although he didn’t know the current situation of the Heavenly Sword Sect, he had deduced from Hong Feibai’s words that he and his teacher had encountered danger because of a treasure.

And that treasure is now inside the package on Hong Feibai’s shoulder, although according to Yan Ling’s predictions, they hadn’t encountered any danger along the way.

But since good fortune often comes with hardship, especially at the last moment, there are always concerns that something unexpected might happen on the road, so one must be more cautious.

Now, to disguise his identity and avoid inevitable "harassments," he had put the Wooden Sword back into the qin case, leaving his hands without a ready weapon.

Although he practiced internal strength with the power of a Vajra, and external strength with Prajna, when he used the secret technique, his single slap would possess at least a thousand pounds of force. But now he was a Scholar of Fufeng who was skilled in swordsmanship.

As for fist and foot fighting, he was fairly standard.

Wang Anfeng held the plain longsword in his hand, casually drawing it and twirling it in his fingers before giving his wrist a shake, brandishing the sword about like an untrained Scholar, eliciting sneers from passersby.

He didn’t mind and had already mastered the length, weight, and most importantly, the balance of the sword which was crucial during a fight.

He sheathed the Iron Sword back into its scabbard and sighed internally.

Indeed, it was no match for the weapon given by Master Ying.

Be it swords or anything else, anything crafted by Master Ying was highly tailored to his physique and fighting habits, unlike those weapons that required deliberate familiarization to understand their balance.

Hong Feibai finished filling the water skin at the shop and put it back on the cart, thought for a moment, and then asked,

"Why didn’t you buy a better sword?"

Wang Anfeng grew up in a poor family and was accustomed to frugality, only buying this particular sword because it was cheap. Had it not been to avoid revealing his identity with the Wooden Sword, he would have even considered buying a Wooden Sword.

Wooden Swords were only sixty copper coins, much cheaper than Iron Swords.

But of course, he couldn’t say this to Hong Feibai. Holding the Iron Sword, he lifted it slightly and replied with a smile,

"It is the man who wields the sword, not the sword that commands the man."

"As long as the hand holds a sword, it is sufficient, whether it is a fine sword or an Iron Sword, there is no difference."

Even without a sword, it would not matter.

Hong Feibai was slightly taken aback, then nodded as if he understood, saying solemnly,

"My master’s uncle once said that a Swordsman’s ultimate state is to not rely on external objects, and that the Longsword exists only in the heart."

"Whether it is a Divine Weapon or an ordinary piece of bamboo, there’s no difference... I see..."

His voice paused, then he sighed again, genuinely convinced and said,

"Master’s swordsmanship is indeed exceptional."

Wang Anfeng’s face stiffened slightly as he looked at the sincerely pondering Hong Feibai, feeling utterly bewildered in his heart.

No... Wait a minute...

I haven’t...

I’m not...

...............

After having some food, the carriage dashed out of the city.

They were not far from Heavenly Sword Sect now, and the road was smooth. The Black Coffin inside the carriage still hadn’t emitted any strange odors. Hong Feibai felt a sense of foreboding in his heart but was reluctant to admit it.

Clenching his teeth, he flicked the whip, lashing it on the backs of the carriage-pulling steeds.

The speed started to pick up somewhat.

In the distance, one could already see a rather prominent mountain range; with Wang Anfeng’s ocular power, he could faintly make out the cluster of buildings on the waist and peak of the mountain. Hong Feibai turned his head to glance at Wang Anfeng, who leaned on the carriage shaft with his sword in his arms, and said,

"We’ve already passed the boundary marker."

"Perhaps today, or maybe by tomorrow morning, we can return to the mountains..."

His tone of voice as he spoke was complex, carrying a mixture of relief, pain, and a hint of fear.

Wang Anfeng’s gaze lifted to see a face that didn’t look like it belonged to a young man. After thinking for a moment, he found an appropriate description from a book he had read in the past.

Very Jianghu.

They traveled another ten-odd li along the official road until Hong Feibai snapped the reins, guiding the carriage off the main road. Heavenly Sword Sect was situated on a mountain, and to get there, they had to traverse a long stretch of secluded trail.

The mountain road was bumpy, so their pace was even slower. They had just crested a small hill, warming up for the path below when the two strong horses suddenly neighed loudly. Their front legs bent, and they nearly knelt down on the path ahead.

The carriage jolted violently.

Wang Anfeng, who had been closing his eyes to rest and regulate his Inner Qi, opened his eyes at the same moment. In an instant, he had stepped off the carriage and effortlessly propped up the teetering vehicle with one hand. The carriage was extremely heavy, and for some reason, the powerful horses had lost their strength. With a weight of over two thousand catties, Wang Anfeng steadied it with just one hand.

Before this, he had already pulled out two Copper Coins from his bosom and flicked them, leaving two glistening yellow trails in the air as they shot forwards.

There was a crisp snap. Several ropes snapped, dislodging large rocks from the mountain. The stones, as big as a person, were either naturally there or moved there by human hands. Using the mountain’s slope, they tumbled down with a rumbling sound like muffled thunder, effectively blocking off the path ahead.

If the carriage had continued as it was, with the horses injured and the carriage tilting forwards, those falling rocks would have flattened everything, including the carriage and the horses.

Rage boiled up in Wang Anfeng’s heart.

He had been resting with his eyes closed but was aware of martial artists lurking nearby. Initially, he planned to respond only if they acted first, countering each move as it came. However, to his surprise, they had stretched several ultra-thin steel wires across the deep snow. They were so fine that the naked eye could barely perceive them; motionless objects without any scent, they evaded detection. Even with Wang Anfeng’s martial arts expertise, he hadn’t noticed them momentarily.

However, when the galloping horses collided with them, the wires proved to be as sharp as swords, a very vicious trap.

Hong Feibai’s eyes reddened as he rushed into the carriage.

Wang Anfeng, on the other hand, gripped the plain-looking Iron Sword, his eyes trained ahead. With a flick of his thumb, the Iron Sword slid an inch out of its scabbard.

Accompanied by shouts, figures leaped down from the rocks on either side, large in stature, each with a weapon on their backs. Some were quite skilled and blocked the carriage’s path forward and back.

Even without these men, the path was already obstructed by the boulders.

The horses drawing the carriage had cuts on their forelegs, blood flowing out, trembling uncontrollably, hardly able to stand beside the carriage, let alone pull it along the rugged mountain path.

The burly men holding weapons glanced over with malicious smiles at the ’frail scholar’ standing next to the carriage.

The movement of Wang Anfeng propping up the carriage had been a brief one. Moreover, Shaolin martial arts were always known for their straightforward and powerful reputation in Jianghu, without any fancy frills, making the motion quite concealed. Those with martial arts inferior to his could hardly discern the depth of his skill. Of course, according to his third Master, this was called deceptive and filled with shrewd tricks.

In a fight, a seemingly gentle slap could either be harmless or vicious enough to smash someone’s brain out.

Hong Feibai pushed open the carriage curtain and leaped out.

He dared not open the Black Coffin.

But he had already considered the roughness of the road and had bought many quilts in the city as padding. Moreover, Wang Anfeng’s rapid reaction had prevented the worries he harbored, preventing any bumping or bruises. However, the feeling of oppression that he had suppressed over the days now erupted.

A murderous intent welled up within him.

He exhaled a long breath, which turned into a white mist in the cold winter air, just after the snowfall. The harsh chill made this puff of air exceptionally clear. His reddened eyes pierced through the mist, coldly observing the hulking man in front of him.

"Master, please leave these men to me," he said.

He raised his hand, resting it on the somewhat small hilt of his sword.

The suppressed, muffled resonance of the sword cry lingered inside the scabbard, sounding dim and restrained.

PS: Offering up the first update today...