Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 462 - 126 Brandishing the Sword with a Long Roar, Leaning on Kunlun (Combined in One)_2

When Wang Anfeng passed by, a familiar voice sounded by his ear, and his footsteps paused slightly as he turned toward Hong Hui. He clasped his hands together, his right palm covering the back of his left hand, the blade pointing straight to the ground, solemn and dark, and he deeply performed a bow.

This was the courtesy of a swordsman.

He pursed his lips and said in a soft voice,

"Elder, I have received your compensation."

Hong Hui did not respond, but his gaze held a touch of gratitude.

Inside Shaolin Temple.

The scholar, rarely rising, stood solemn and dark, gazing at the endless scenery outside the mountain. Hong Luoyu also did not act as lively as usual, silent, just silent. After a long time, the sly thief sighed and said,

"What a pity."

Mr. Ying's face lacked its usual mocking disdain. His eyes deep, reflecting Heaven and Earth, the mountains and rivers, he paused and then said lightly,

"A sword wielded without regret, only advancing, not retreating, can walk this path."

"He does not need your or my pity."

"He needs no one's pity..."

Hong Luoyu fell silent for a moment, then casually said,

"Indeed."

At the base of Heavenly Sword Mountain Sect, all the disciples had already passed by, leaving only Hong Feibai. He still wore a stern expression, holding a broken sword, standing in place silently for a moment, then slowly stepped forward. Yet even at this time, he kept his eyes cast downward, not looking at Hong Hui.

But his hand was already clenched.

Just like the scene from this morning, he and Hong Hui merely brushed past each other. At this moment, the latter suddenly spoke,

"I told you today."

Hong Feibai's footsteps paused slightly.

The two stubborn men just stood back-to-back.

Hong Hui never looked at him, his face still cold and hard, sensing the youth stopping, he continued,

"When using a sword, pursuing excessively fierce movements is inferior. Transforming slow swordsmanship into fast swordsmanship is simply foolish!"

"When you return today, practice the sect's basic swordsmanship one hundred times."

"If it's not enough, no eating, no resting."

His voice paused slightly, then he added,

"No drinking!"

The place for sword practice hid some liquor.

That was Hong Feibai's secret.

Every time he was punished to practice his swordsmanship until late at night, he would steal a drink, being very careful, never discovered, because that liquor was always there.

After a long silence, Hong Feibai nodded and said coldly,

"Understood."

Then he never looked back, just strode forward, his heart's brooding hatred suddenly disappeared, leaving only that sense of inevitability about this world of Jianghu.

Behind the young man, Hong Hui sensed the dark and radical mood in his disciple's heart gradually dispersing, gradually disappearing. One day, it would disappear completely, his eyes softened and relaxed.

This is my final sword, Feibai...

To shatter the inner demons.

Since being a master, one should lead by example, guiding potentially wayward disciples toward the right path is also a master's duty...

Hong Hui's eyes held a tender smile, imbued with farewell.

I have never told you.

Feibai, you are actually very good, exceptionally good.

You did very well.

Being your master, I have never regretted it.

Hong Feibai strode toward the direction of Heavenly Sword Sect, walking very forcefully, his eyes wide, teeth clenched, as tears freely flowed down his face.

Hong Hui was extremely strict with him, frequently punishing him to practice swordsmanship, checking on his swordsmanship progress, highly severe.

Otherwise, he used his eldest disciple to set an example.

I don't know how many times he was punished to practice swordsmanship until late at night.

In those moments of exhaustion and muscle soreness, he also secretly cursed Hong Hui in anger.

But at this moment, with Hong Hui truly going to die, he could only feel waves of piercing pain in his heart, making the ground under his feet seem a bit unstable, not so solid.

At this point, he suddenly understood.

He was just an orphan without a father...

All the disciples had already left, only that beautiful woman remained. Bu Yunmeng stood in front of Hong Hui, her previously distraught appearance due to her daughter's death now gone; she held a longsword, her posture poised and impressive in the breeze, as arrogant as the heroine from years past.

Hong Hui suddenly fell silent, and after the silence, he simply asked:

"Did you drink the medicinal porridge I prepared earlier?"

Bu Yunmeng laughed, nodding her head and adding:

"I ate."

"Is it the familiar taste, still from Chen Lao San's place?"

Hong Hui naturally said:

"Isn't that your favorite taste?"

"But their place is very far away..."

"I learned how to make it, quite easily."

Hong Hui responded calmly, a hint of pride hidden deep in his eyes.

Others couldn't see it.

Bu Yunmeng laughed out loud, feeling a bit of a sting in her nose.

Her swordsmanship and cultivation were not low, so she truly understood Hong Hui's current condition.

He was only able to maintain a clear consciousness because the intense sword intent left from his life force breaking away and breath shattering still lingered, like the embers on firewood after a flame in winter has burned out, still carrying some sparks, but these faint sparks would inevitably slowly disappear.

Hong Hui was destined to die today.

So she didn't want him to see her crying face at this moment.

She looked up at that familiar face; he was once a spirited youth, but now covered in sternness. It had been a long time since she had seen his smile. She barely remembered it being very beautiful, very beautiful indeed. But ever since he became the peak master, she had never seen it again, and now, at this moment, it has already been twenty-three years.

And she would never see it again.

Finally, she couldn't bear to look anymore, her expression becoming fragile. She felt like she was about to burst into tears any second, so she hurriedly lowered her head.

The atmosphere became a bit stiff, but she didn't want to leave.

Although she knew he would definitely continue to talk about the sect's affairs, the disciples' issues, it didn't matter. As long as she could spend more time with him, just a little longer, even if it was just talking about sect affairs, it didn't matter...

She clenched her teeth, refusing to let her tears appear.

In this silence, she suddenly heard a deep voice say:

"In this life, I have failed you..."

Bu Yunmeng's body trembled slightly, her tears almost uncontrollable, but she bit her teeth hard, not letting the tears fall, and feigned an indifferent smile. She looked up, her eyes slightly widened, and saw the severely injured man slowly raising his hand.

The elderly man almost cried out.

But he didn't speak after all; he had noticed that the sword intent gathering Hong Hui's life force was dissipating, and saw his determination too.

Bu Yunmeng had not seen Hong Hui's smile for a long time.

The stern man's face now bore a gentle and apologetic smile. She had once imagined such a smile.

Warm and rich, like the quiet sunshine of a spring afternoon, like the wind that blows from the mountain top, warming her heart.

The depleted Hong Hui raised his left hand, gently tucking his wife's stray hair behind her ear.

This gesture, he hadn't made it when he left that morning.

Then, like in the past, he gently rubbed his wife's long hair, fell silent for a moment, then smilingly and reflectively said:

"If there is a next life, I won't cultivate the sword..."

Bu Yunmeng's eyes widened.

He said, he won't cultivate the sword.

"For a lifetime, I will only cultivate you."

Hong Hui smiled, and the last remnants of his sword intent, due to the reckless actions at that moment, disappeared. His palm slowly disintegrated, but his consciousness had not completely vanished, and in the excruciating pain of lingering destruction, he disappeared like a falling leaf with the mountain wind.

Even as he vanished, he was still smiling.

Looking at Bu Yunmeng.

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The woman instinctively stepped forward, trying to hold him, but only grasped at air. As a Seventh Rank Martial Artist, a swordsman who easily covered ten feet in an instant, she lost her balance and kneeled on the ground, tears streaming down her face.

The elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect drew out his longsword, his hands clasped around the hilt, the blade pointing downwards, saluting from afar, and struggling through his grief, he loudly said:

"Send off the Heavenly Sword!!"

The Sect Leader of the Heavenly Sword, followed by the peak masters, continued with the swordsman's salute, choking up as they shouted:

"Send off the Heavenly Sword!"

With a long cry, he seemed to lean on Kunlun.

That day, within the Heavenly Sword Sect, there was a chorus of myriad swords, Sword Qi soaring to skies, visible within a radius of five hundred miles across two provinces. Occasionally, a white rainbow swept across the sky, dazzlingly brilliant, rivaling the bright sun.

Gone in an instant.

The second generation Heavenly Sword, Hong Hui.

Passed away.

PS: Two in one...

Also, I will take a leave tomorrow, to revise the upcoming outline...

I have seen your tips, and I'm very grateful, but I am currently exhausted, so I will thank you next time, sorry.

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