The sound of a man grunting in pain and flesh being sliced open were muffled by the heavy rain.
Wang Xiaomie couldn’t distinguish whose it was exactly, and his heart clenched in fear, although he knew that Wen Fengjin and An Xie must have a plan, he was still worried!
Suppressing his anxious heart, Wang Xiaomie cautiously looked outside. The raindrops, as big as beans, fell urgently and swiftly, quickly converging on the ground into small streams, turning the surface of the earth into mud.
When he could make out just a little from behind the rain curtain, Wang Xiaomie’s heart sank.
An Xie was injured…
In the rain, An Xie took a step back, his spear sweeping out in a half-circle, deflecting Wen Fengjin’s sword momentum as it surged again. With each movement, his arm flung out a lot of blood, diluted as it fell into the puddles.
The heavy rain chilled them to the bone, water trickling down from their hair, sleeves, hems, and even their chins. Both of them, with eyes bloodshot, briefly paused before rushing at each other again.
The long spear aimed at Wen Fengjin’s knee, and with a single foot pushing against the ground, Wen Fengjin’s entire body lightly leaped into the air, his red robe fluttering like a red oiled paper umbrella shaking off water droplets.
The long spear followed closely behind, as An Xie, with one arm holding the staff, also leaped up.
The spearhead flashed with a cold light, and the tough and durable soft sword flicked by the slender hand, wrapped around the long spear’s shaft, leaving deep marks on it, even looping around it.
But An Xie still didn’t let go, even roaring loudly and thrusting forward even more fiercely!
The next second, would the spear break? Or would Wen Fengjins chest be stabbed by the long spear?
In the pale yellow rain, Wang Xiaomie and the others all widened their eyes.
“Tss—”
The people who collided separated after a few seconds, falling back slightly in the air to where they had just stood!
Who won?!
Everyone held their breath, watching the two motionless figures. Suddenly, An Xie slowly sank to his knees, thick blood overflowing from his neck. The once gallant figure, now fallen into the mud, remained still…
Wen Fengjin grasped the spearhead embedded in his chest, veins bulging on the back of his hand. With a muffled groan, he pulled out the weapon lodged in his ribs. A strong medicinal scent filled the air, diluted by the damp atmosphere.
At the critical moment, he took this blow and also shattered the shaft of the long spear…
“Dong!”
The blood-stained silver spearhead was thrown to the ground. Wen Fengjin’s face was ashen, his skin taking on a corpse-like hue. For unageing and undying beings like them, the heart was their most vital point. He covered the wound, blood seeping from his fair fingertips, glaringly red.
“He’s dead…”
Yi Yan gazed at the corpse of the Drought Demon with an explosion of ecstasy on his face. His eyes widened, pupils constricted, and he couldn’t control the corners of his mouth from curving up wildly. He took two steps forward.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“He’s dead!” Yi Yan stared fixedly outside. “Hahaha, it’s been twenty years! Twenty years! What a good death! Hahaha!”
Lf ijeutfv tfjgalis klat j gjlrfv tfjv, tlr olrar mifcmtfv alutais, jr lo oeioliilcu j ibcu-mtfglrtfv klrt. Lf rdelcafv, ecjyif ab mbcajlc atf fzmlafwfca lc tlr fsfr, jcv abbx j vffq ygfjat.
“P’nf jnfcufv… P olcjiis uba ws gfnfcuf!”
Djl Te ibbxfv ja tlr pbs mbivis, ktlif Qjcu Wljbwlf, ecregf lo atlr kjr Qfc Mfcuplc jcv Cc Wlf’r jma bg lo rbwfatlcu tjv jmaejiis tjqqfcfv, vjgfv cba ibbx jkjs. Ca atlr wbwfca, Olaaif Uegqif Ljlg cfza ab tlw jirb rffwfv ab tjnf cbalmfv rbwfatlcu.
Sounds like a dog sniffing emanated from the white cloth sack, followed by a loud growl!
“Roar—!”
The sack was scratched, and the ghostly hand covered in poisonous hair emerged, waving around as it struggled. The sack rolled back and forth on the ground as Little Purple Hair strained and howled in misery.
This sound also startled the irrational Yi Yan. His expression froze for a moment, then slowly returned to his usual composed demeanor.
“He’s dead, and you’re of no use now.”
Yi Yan walked to Purple Hair’s side, stepping on him lightly with his foot…
“Roar—!”
Little Purple Hair screamed in pain, Wang Xiaomie gritted his teeth, his hand quietly reaching for his leg, preparing to use Kaiming to knife this motherfucker!
“Don’t step on him.”
Bai Yu, who had been silent since earlier, said lightly, “The purple-haired zombie is also a good material. I want to take him back.”
Yi Yan stopped pressing down his foot, his slender eyes swept over Bai Yu’s face. They looked at each other for a moment, and Yi Yan lifted his foot, indicating his agreement.
After saying this, Bai Yu stood up and carried the struggling Little Purple Hair to the corner where Wang Xiaomie had been before, tying him to a pillar.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the layers of heavy rain, and Wang Xiaomie watched as Wen Fengjin approached, finally standing in front of him. His nose tingled, and he almost couldn’t hold back the tears in his eyes behind his feigned blank expression.
“I won, you should fulfill your promise now,” Wen Fengjin said, stepping onto the wooden floor of the cabin, his body soaked through, clothes clinging tightly to his skin, creating a puddle of water under his feet.
“Of course, I will fulfill my promise,” Yi Yan laughed lightly, his slender eyes scanning Wen Fengjin’s pale face and his slightly trembling hand gripping the sword.
“After all, you fought hard against the Drought Demon. Even though you have the ability to heal, with frequent healing, your power will also decline… Am I right? Hehe~”
“That’s none of your concern. Give me back my shixiong,” Wen Fengjin’s face was as pale as ice sculpture, his tone flat and indifferent, his narrow heterochromatic eyes still terrifyingly crimson. Complemented by the vivid red pattern between his eyebrows and soaking wet silver hair, he looked like a horrifying devil.
But all of this was just Wen Fengjin’s bluffing in Yi Yan’s eyes.
He must have been severely injured…
Yi Yan’s lips curled up, and faint wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes.
“Let’s put aside promises for now. How do I know if you’re not tricking me?” Yi Yan’s shrewd gaze swept over Wang Xiaomie and Wen Fengjin, as if he had discovered something alarming. Wang Xiaomie felt intimidated, but when he saw Wen Fengjin’s expression remain unchanged, he calmed down and decided to listen to what they had to say.
“I’m not a greenhorn. I’ve always had the good habit of leaving room for maneuver,” Yi Yan chuckled, gesturing to Bai Yu. “Bai Yu, go check if the Drought Demon is really dead!”
Damn you, old fox!
Wang Xiaomie and Wen Fengjin exchanged glances, Xiaomie clearly seeing Fengjin slowly blink his eyes. It seemed like rainwater had trickled into his eyes, but Wang Xiaomie, who had been with him day and night for two lifetimes, knew better. This was clearly Wen Fengjin’s “I’m thinking” expression!
Wang Xiaomie: I knew you guys were acting! What do we do now? Damn, I hope we won’t be found out! Maybe I should just stab him in the kidney right now!
Wen Fengjin: I’m waiting.
Wang Xiaomie: …
During their brief eye contact, Bai Yu also stood up, grabbed the umbrella at the door, and opened it before stepping into the heavy rain. He slowly crouched down in front of An Xie’s ‘corpse’.
Bai Yu turned over An Xie’s body and saw the Drought Demon An Xie staring with wide eyes. The wound on his neck had long since healed, and just as An Xie was about to discreetly tuck a small pouch into his collar, Bai Yu caught him. An awkward expression appeared on the Drought Demon’s face, then he rolled his eyes and pretended to be dead with a remaining grievance.
Bai Yu: “…”
An Xie: “…”
An Xie: You didn’t see anything, you didn’t see anything, I’m dead, I’m dead…
Bai Yu: …Are you kidding me???
In the few seconds before Bai Yu spoke, the air seemed to freeze. Yi Yan was all smiles as he stared at Wen Fengjin, who remained expressionless and looked back at Yi Yan.
The eyes of both men crackled with murderous intent.
It was as if they were saying, “I see through you.” and “No, you don’t.”
Wang Xiaomie was caught in the middle, feeling the overwhelming hostility emanating from both men. He didn’t dare to move or speak, feeling like he was about to wet himself.
Just then, Bai Yu’s voice suddenly came from the heavy rain. He shouted, “The Drought Demon is indeed dead!”
His voice was distorted by the sound of the pouring rain, but it carried a certain power that instantly dissipated much of the tense atmosphere in the room. Shortly after, Bai Yu ran back with the umbrella, folded it, and nodded to Yi Yan.
Yi Yan’s lips couldn’t help but curl up, looking very pleased.
Wen Fengjin raised his sword lightly, pointing it at Yi Yan. “Release the control over my shixiong and give him back to me.”
“Oh~ about that,” Yi Yan’s hands dropped to his sides. “No rush!”
As he finished speaking, two golden dagger-like short spikes suddenly dropped from his sleeve positions, perfectly grasped in his palm. The light cyan figure suddenly rushed towards Wen Fengjin. Wen Fengjin dodged to the side, and a few strands of silver hair shimmered as they flew. In the next moment, the golden spikes were already entangled with the soft sword!
Yi Yan’s attacks were particularly close-range, and his body was as agile as an elusive eel. Wen Fengjin frowned, the soft sword danced like a ribbon.
“Clang, clang, clang—”
Sparks flew as the short spikes clashed against the soft sword. One short blade aimed at Wen Fengjin’s face was blocked, and Yi Yan twisted his waist forcefully, swiftly drawing a large circle with his agile body. His other arm opened up, and the weapon in his hand pierced towards Wen Fengjin’s back!
“Squish—”
The short spike accurately pierced into flesh. Wang Xiaomie’s eyes widened, hardly able to believe that an ordinary person could actually injure Wen Fengjin. The last time he was injured by Zhen Bei was because Wen Fengjin was too focused on saving him and didn’t resist.
Before the wound could widen any further, Yi Yan was kicked away by Wen Fengjin. He flew backward, steadying himself after a few points of his toes touched the ground. Without giving Wen Fengjin a chance to catch his breath, Yi Yan immediately threw the weapon in his hand.
As Wen Fengjin dodged, he turned his head and found himself face to face with Yi Yan.
The fight between the two was evenly matched, and Wang Xiaomie finally understood why An Xie mentioned Yi Yan with such tension and vigilance…
Is this fucker even human?!
Wang Xiaomie watched as Yi Yan’s attacks changed trajectory like a ninja from a certain anime, his movements blurring to the naked eye! It’s like the sonofabitch is using shadow clones!
Damn, is Yi Yan the Sweeping Monk with unrivaled martial arts from the movie?!
Could a human be this skilled?!
Oh god, please tell me you’re not messing with me!
Wang Xiaomie saw that both Wen Fengjin and Yi Yan were slowly accumulating injuries, but Yi Yan was clearly a tough opponent. Wen Fengjin’s expression became increasingly sinister, his pupils turning redder.
Wang Xiaomie, fearing things might turn for the worse, sneakily glanced at Bai Yu, who, in order to avoid accidental injury, was hiding behind a pillar and peeking out without noticing him.
The timing was perfect!
Wang Xiaomie quietly pulled down his pants and took out his 18-centimeter… cough cough, his dagger, Kaiming.
Just then, Wen Fengjin managed to push Yi Yan away.
Yi Yan stepped back a few steps and stopped by his side.
Perfect opportunity!
Wang Xiaomie aimed at Yi Yan’s waist, gripping Kaiming and thrusting forward!
Come on, kidney-stabbing godly weapon!
Kaiming: …
