Why do I have so many masters?

The sword's howl ascended, and the pearl seemed to possess intelligence, retreating on its own.

Thunder split the sky, wild winds screamed, and massive rocks shifted, blocking the sword light of the Scholar, grinding it away bit by bit.

The raging wind wailed like ghosts, and the roaring thunder was like an enraged Heavenly God.

Amidst the storm, Anfeng stood alone in his green robe, his demeanor ice cold.

Yuan Ci and Wu Changqing were still trapped within the world, their status below his, unable at this moment to take action.

Perhaps out of resentment that the Scholar had blocked their path, the thunder roared, the land rose from the rivers, and all things between Heaven and Earth separated Master Ying and the pearl, as if they were roaring, pleading, and persuading him, urging him to settle down and accept this power.

Because of the pearl, the rudiments of a spiritual charm had begun to form.

This was a chance...

This was a chance!

The Scholar's body tensed, feeling an almost irresistible temptation within, his face showing a struggle.

He was already at the core of this world, indistinguishable from the rest, and what they could feel, he felt even more intensely.

A longing to become a true living being.

The Scholar's expression was torn, yet uncontrollably plunging into the depths, he could influence this world, and, in turn, this world could also affect him.

Because they were one and the same.

His expression gradually dimmed, and in his mind, memories flew backward at a rapid pace.

As if to reverse his existence back to the very nature of this world.

Yuan Ci, Wu Changqing, the 'scenes' of the past.

Memories rolled back, his face growing more deathly, until suddenly he saw that foolishly incurable young boy.

Growing slowly by his side, tumbling and fumbling, inching towards prowess.

Walking shoulder to shoulder with him, headed down the path ahead.

But for some reason, the boy gradually grew distant, and ultimately stood with a group of familiar yet strange figures in the darkness, a chasm between them, crowded with Swordsmen, Monks, and Taoists. The boy turned, bowing respectfully to him.

Just like their first meeting.

"Master Ying, I take my leave," said the boy.

The boy looked up at him, pausing, and said softly:

"Goodbye."

Amidst the rumbling and scraping, the Blood Sea churned, sweeping the boy in, his familiar clean face instantly covered in blood.

Master Ying's pupils abruptly contracted, and there seemed to be a soft crackle around him.

His expression momentarily cleared, and the Scholar slowly looked up, no trace of confusion left in his eyes.

Gazing at the phenomena of Heaven and Earth before him, the corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

Into a defiant, cold smile.

Angry murderous intent and ice-cold rationality fully emerged at this moment, pride wounded by temptation mixed with Wang Anfeng's anxiousness in a death trap.

At this moment, he suddenly remembered a scripture spoken by the bald monk.

Like a green lotus flower, red and white lotus flowers grow upon the water and emerge above it, untouched by the water.

So too the Tathagata, born and grown in the world, walks out of this world unperturbed by the world's laws.

I depart from this world, not within it.

His expression fierce, he stepped forward with his sword.

The world turned upside down, blocking in front of the Scholar.

For there were Wind and Thunder, mountains, rivers, Heaven and Earth in front of him.

Hence there were Wind Extinguishing, Thunder Meteor, Splitting Mountain, Severing Mountain, Wave Cutting.

Sky Collapse!

Earth Split!

All things Return to Ruin!

The sword light was piercingly cold, cutting down without hesitation from above that chance.

Incidentally shattering the originally moved mountains and rivers.

In his green robe, the Scholar's face was pale, his eyes sharp and piercing.

To cut me is to see me.

I am not me.

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

Inside Dingwu City.

Wang Anfeng's face was slightly pale, his thoughts in disarray.

There is great terror between life and death.

With the ability of a Middle Third Rank Martial Artist to tread in the air, he only had to hold on for a moment to wait for Gong Yu's arrival.

But as a Ninth Grade facing an enraged Seventh Rank Martial Artist, how long could he last?

The young man could almost imagine that he would inevitably be tortured in every way possible.

His steps faltered involuntarily, his heart raced, his breathing quickened, as if a vast shadow had fallen upon him, extinguishing all hope.

It was utterly different from when he had assumed the name Yi Nanping or when Jiangfeng ambushed him.

At that time, he at least had one last resort.

Return to Shaolin.

But now, this true death trap filled him with terror, and at this moment, his usual composure collapsed, dark thoughts seeping out from human nature like sinister ghosts.

There was another way.

The youth's eyes half-closed.

He did not have to face the Seventh Rank Martial Artist directly, just delaying time was enough.

In the city were hundreds of Soldiers, the Defending General was an Eighth Rank Martial Artist, and the County Master was above Ninth Grade, not yet Eighth.

To infuriate him, then use an entire city to protect himself.

Before that Martial Artist slaughtered everyone, Gong Yu would surely arrive.

At that moment, he would claim it was the other who went mad, pushing everything else away.

With detailed contemplation in his heart, he opened his eyes, only to see the sunlight falling on the street, the children running across the playground, the passers-by greeting each other, the trivial family matters, the chattering neighbors, and this familiar world.

The youth's heart softened.

He raised his hand and gently tapped his forehead, whispering to himself.

"How could I think of such things?"

"After returning to the mountain, I'll face punishment."

If I survive, that is.

The youth laughed offhandedly and opted for a different approach.

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

Outside Dingwu City, even though the sun shone brightly, as dusk neared, a light rain began to drizzle.

Suddenly, the clear cry of an eagle sounded in the sky as two silver-feathered Flying Eagles arrived from the distance. Even more astonishing was the figure atop them, who with every step could leap nearly a hundred meters. Just before landing, the figure would gather energy, lightly touch a toe on the back of a Flying Eagle, and then soar aloft again, appearing almost like a heavenly immortal.

As he was about to rush into the city, the eagles cried out, the man's movement technique paused, and his gaze swept over the area below. Then he suddenly swooped straight down, landing forcefully on the ground below.

Vigorous Qi billowed, stirring up a blast of air, and the sound of his flapping clothes was suppressed by the tranquil notes of a guqin.

The man was clad in black, with an ancient-looking face and a dot of indigo on his forehead resembling an evil spirit.

His eyes were cloudy, but now they looked with uncertainty at the side of the city gate.

On the bluestone, a youth in blue robes sat calmly.

A guqin rested on his knees, and his fingertips lightly stroked the strings, stirring up clear and melodious music.

What's going on?

Seeing the youth sitting there composedly, the arrival's killing intent suddenly stalled. His original plan had been to go straight into the city and capture Wang Anfeng. Now that the latter appeared before him, ostensibly welcoming him, this caused an unsettling suspicion in his heart.
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The experiences of the third and fourth men that had just come to mind added to his doubts.

Would such a schemer naively present himself to be captured?

Impossible.

His gaze swept past the youth; since he did not know that Wang Anfeng had already sent out the message, there was no urgency in his heart, but the encounter of his two subordinates made him extra cautious.

The sound of the guqin was soothing, even possessing an air of mastery.

Despite being a simple wooden guqin, it did not diminish its elegance.

Yet beyond that, he could not discern any abnormalities.

The man's suspicion deepened as he looked at the youth's bearing, which did not seem like someone foolishly courting death.

Could it be a feint?

He circled Wang Anfeng slowly, then suddenly his expression turned fierce, and he lunged forward, drawing the long sword at his waist, and viciously slashed toward Wang Anfeng's throat. His movement was swift and fierce, tearing through the curtain of rain, passing by the youth's neck.

With a ferocious momentum, Wang Anfeng remained composed, while the man knitted his brows slightly, stepped back, and quickly retreated to his original position.

Wang Anfeng's heart almost leaped out of his chest.

But he could only bet that the man behind him wanted to capture him alive to inquire about his relationship with Master Ni.

He bet right.

Feeling slightly relieved, his hand trembled inadvertently, but he took advantage of the moment to pluck a harmonic, the sound of the guqin becoming even more ethereal and distant. The man's growing impatience and his naturally fierce and aggressive nature gradually took over. At that moment, the youth closed his eyes.

His mind replayed the descriptions his subordinates had given about his ruthlessness and conceit, and he let out a soft breath, stabilizing his voice with effort before saying:

"Today, as the rain falls, I give you a piece of music."

"To send you off to your death."

The man appeared slightly stunned, then erupted into loud laughter, cackling:

"And what do I have here? A mere delaying tactic, and I thought it was some clever stratagem, how mediocre!"

"Do you think I will let you stall for time?"

Wang Anfeng's gaze lifted slightly, his expression calm.

"You don't dare?"

The man's expression froze; naturally born with a frightening face, he had always been self-conscious. However, after learning martial arts, he grew even more arrogant. He could not help but respond to any provocation, thinking to himself that a piece of music would only take a moment, and this young fellow was right by his side—nobody would be able to save him.

A ferocious grin spread across his face as he strode over to Wang Anfeng, with his long blade resting directly on the youth's neck.

"Come, let me see how you intend to kill me with music!"

The youth's eyes narrowed slightly; the music continued to flow gently.

A feint, a delaying tactic.

He had done his utmost up to this point.

Next, it was to do his best and leave the rest to fate.

Yet he wondered, did he still appear foolish in Mr. Ying's eyes, riddled with mistakes?

Despite having been terrified just moments ago, he now seemed serene, and the music became even more enchanting. The more the man listened, the more he felt that Wang Anfeng must be relying on something, which unsettled him. After half a piece had been played, killing intent flashed in his eyes, and he swung his blade at an angle, intent on chopping off the youth's hands that were playing the qin.

The blade fell straight down.

And then, like thin ice, shattered into pieces.

The man's face went from blank to one of horror.

"Gong Yu?!"

He screeched, leaping to his feet and bounding away. The desolate surroundings never made him suspect that a Middle Third Rank martial artist would appear, let alone Gong Yu whom he thought was still in Guan City. His heart filled with terror, he aimed to rush into the city, but to his amazement, Gong Yu had stepped out of thin air from Dingwu City, her face pale.

Several clear whistles sounded, and three sixteen or seventeen-year-old girls dressed in white leaped out from the city.

Gong Yu stepped into the void, casting a glance at Wang Anfeng, whose face was deathly pale, her eyes full of admiration.

She nodded lightly, and then said:

"Why not play the qin and send him off?"

The youth's heart was still racing, but upon hearing the words, he gave a fist-palm salute and placed his hands on the ancient qin.

Though he had no score to follow, his mind had experienced such intense shifts that surely that was the best score of all. His fingers lightly touched the strings, he exhaled, and then with a forceful pluck, the sound of the qin rose high and assertive.

As the rain grew heavier, the three girls used green umbrellas in place of swords. The falling rain wove the world into layers of distinct, cold clarity. Using the slippery force of the rainwater, they embodied martial dance with the utmost softness transitioning into hardness. The three Eighth Rank martial artists encircled the man, trapping him within their midst.

With the qin as accompaniment and the swords in confrontation, the music was both shocking and deadly, while the swordplay was marked by its ferocity.

When the music ended and the swords ceased, three people stood beneath the city.

PS: The fifth update, sorry for being so late, haha...