Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 444 - 113: The Only Person With White Hair (Two in One)_2

Because he had had a conflict with Hong Feibai before, he didn’t want to approach him for a meeting; he only intended to follow behind and escort him up the mountain as a way of repaying a human sentiment. In the future, if they met on opposite sides in the Jianghu, there would be no need for hesitation or mercy in their hearts if combat arose.

Hong Feibai let out a long, drawn-out howl that lasted the duration it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Previously, those who were out of curiosity about the commotion here simply pretended they were deaf, passing by on the official road without looking around, not daring to get involved in the excitement.

Wang Anfeng stood in front of the carriage, watching Hong Feibai, who looked distraught, walked a couple of steps toward him, then turned back to pick up the fragments of the broken Jade Plaque on the ground, wrapped them up, and carried them on his back. Only then did he stand up and start walking over, his steps somewhat unsteady.

Wang Anfeng leaned against the carriage, glanced at the snowless mountain road stretching for miles, and said softly:

"Head up the mountain?"

Hong Feibai was silent for a moment, then nodded with a hoarse voice.

"Yes."

Ma Hongkuo, standing by, was confused and glanced at Hong Feibai, suddenly remembering something, and said:

"You’re going up the mountain to look for your Sect Leader of the Heavenly Sword Sect?"

"My subordinates have gathered some information; your master and his wife are also currently heading in the direction of the Heavenly Sword Sect. Are you going ahead..."

Hong Feibai lifted his eyes to look at Ma Hongkuo, who should have been a young man in his early twenties.

But now, there was none of the vigor and spirit that a young man should possess. Instead, he seemed like a weather-beaten swordsman from the Jianghu, with an air of world-weariness and a voice hoarse as if it had been smoked, he asked:

"Where are my master and mistress..."

Ma Hongkuo, the Mountain River Spear, was startled by Hong Feibai’s tone.

He did not show weakness on his face, nor did he intend to conceal the news, which wasn’t very significant anyway. Even with the courage of a dozen of him, he wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on Hong Feibai’s master.

The Heavenly Sword Sect, apart from the leading lineage held by the Sect Leader, had four other branches, inherited from the five disciples of the founding master, with the doctrine that heaven holds five positions and thereby dividing into five styles of swordsmanship. The style passed on to Hong Feibai was that of the ethereal clouds, where the essence of the sword art is elegant and unrestrained.

In his youth, his master was also a bloodthirsty sword fanatic and was now a Sixth Rank expert who had profound realizations.

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Even if you bundled up ten Ma Hongkuos and threw them in,

it would just result in ten additional bloody holes.

Without concealing anything, Ma Hongkuo thought for a moment, slung his large black bow on his back, broke off a dry branch, and drew on the hardened ground covered in snow. He sketched a confusing symbol, pointed at a circle, and then drew a straight line, saying:

"This is Sword Guard Town; you know it."

"Travel north about thirty or so miles, and you’ll find it. But as to the exact location, my people do not know."

"Even this bit of information was discovered inadvertently by one of our roaming disciples, not because we intentionally followed your master and mistress. Our Gang Leader is not afraid of those two swords, but Ma doesn’t wish to have his head picked off so soon."

He spoke with conviction.

And also frankly.

Hong Feibai’s eyes were fixed on the crudely drawn symbol that served as a map, and he nodded with a hoarse voice:

"Thank you."

Ma Hongkuo felt somewhat uneasy and shifted his neck.

The disciple from the Heavenly Sword Sect who was quite immature some days ago now gave him the impression of someone who had been through many trials in Jianghu, like he was facing a peer.

He shook his head and said:

"Two months ago, you didn’t ask your senior to kill me; I already owed you a favor.

"Now that the favor is repaid, next time we meet, I might offer you a drink, but if my Red Lotus Gang and your Heavenly Sword Sect come to blows, I will not hold back."

Then looking again at Wang Anfeng, he clasped his fist in a salute and said:

"So, senior, this is where I take my leave."

He then swiftly climbed up the rocky face using his movement technique, disappearing after a few moments, accompanied by the sound of a horse’s long neigh fading into the distance.

At that moment, Wang Anfeng suddenly remembered the two injured horses nearby, tapped his forehead lightly, and a rare expression of vexation crossed his face.

"Damn it, I should have asked Ma Hongkuo for his horse earlier."

"Now with a hundred miles to go and both horses injured, what should I do?"

Hong Feibai had already untied the horses’ bridles and the straps attaching them to the carriage. Without the burden and constraints, the horses appeared much more relaxed and were stable on their feet. They were, after all, horses born to run wild on the meadows of the Northern Lands of Great Qin; getting injured in the wilderness was nothing unusual, and it wouldn’t mean the end of their lives.

At worst, they would be captured and taken to be healed, then sold back at the horse market, fetching a sum of Silver Coin.

The wild around the official roads of Great Qin had no beasts capable of preying on such spirited horses.

Hong Feibai sheathed his junior sister’s Longsword and slung it over his back.

Standing where the carriage’s shafts had been, he braced his hands on the carriage, tying the ropes that previously held the horses to himself one by one.

The ropes were originally made to restrain horses, or at least bison or donkeys, so they were very sturdy, composed of six strands of twine woven together as thick as the shaft of a spear, wrapped around Hong Feibai’s body, looking slightly comical.

Wang Anfeng couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

Hong Feibai clenched his teeth and took upon himself the burden of the carriage and the Black Coffin; he had not fully recovered from his injuries and as someone who cultivated Inner Qi and swordsmanship, never practiced external physical strength, pulling the carriage was no easy task, yet he moved steadily.