Chapter 223: Senior... Brother?
"Su Mei, why have you come here?"
The question echoed through the grand halls of the Taixu Sword Sect atop Tianshu Peak. Sect Leader Lin Chaoyu held an exalted position in the martial world, yet she was rarely known for a perverse or arrogant temperament. To the disciples and elders alike, she presented a facade of gentle harmony, treating everyone with an even-handed grace regardless of their standing.
However, there were exceptions to this tranquil demeanor.
The first was the legendary Red Kite. The mere mention of that name was enough to shatter Chaoyu's calm, twisting her features into a mask of bitter resentment. Rumors whispered throughout the jianghu claimed that when Red Kite ascended, she had callously left her head disciple behind, a slight that Chaoyu had harbored in her heart for decades.
The second exception stood right before her eyes: Su Mei.
Facing the sharp inquiry, Su Mei offered no immediate answer. Instead, she leisurely paced across the polished floorboards, her gaze sweeping over the opulent layout of the sect's main hall.
"The Taixu Sect... Fuyun Temple..." A soft, melodic chuckle slipped from Su Mei's lips as she traced a finger along a carved wooden pillar. "Hehehe. These are all yours now, Senior Sister." A knowing, almost mocking smile played across her delicate features.
"Hmph." Chaoyu crossed her arms, her sleeves fluttering with the sharp movement. "The Taixu lineage must be passed down. It cannot be allowed to wither and die in our hands."
"Sigh..." Su Mei exhaled softly, a fleeting look of reminiscence softening her calculating gaze. "Out of the seven of us, you have always been the most sentimental, Senior Sister."
She paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing. "Ever since Senior Brother was struck down by Master for falling into demonic possession, you became exceptionally cautious. You even spoke of marching into the freezing wastes of the Northern Wilderness just to retrieve his severed head." Su Mei tilted her head, her smile sharpening into something dangerous. "However... it is precisely because Senior Brother is gone that you finally found the courage to take that ultimate step, isn't it?"
"Su Mei, do not test my patience... Let's get back to the point."
An angry expression appeared on Lin Chaoyu's face as she continued.
"Master has been resurrected, and Junior Sister is already dead; we are next, but what are your plans? You have come to find me after such a long time; surely you didn't come just to chat? Are you... planning to kill Master again?"
Su Mei simply looked at Chaoyu in total silence, offering no verbal response.
Chaoyu took that lingering silence as a clear admission of guilt.
"Su Mei, I do not like you," Chaoyu stated coldly, "but after all, I once treated you like my own younger sister. There is something I must remind you of."
She narrowed her eyes, her tone heavy with warning. "Times have changed. We can no longer gather together as we once did. Even if you manage to bring out another portion of [Huodou blood], the outcome might not be the same as it was back then."
Chaoyu's hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. "It has been twenty years, and I have never forgotten that night. Wanru and Suyi almost died. If not for you, that sword strike on Yanqing's face... would likely have been fatal."
Upon hearing those words, the exact smile that always made Chaoyu feel deeply disgusted crept back onto Su Mei's face. She had always been like this. Chaoyu had been forced to endure that exact, infuriating expression for over a decade.
"I said it before. You are the most sentimental, Senior Sister." Su Mei chuckled softly. "Hehehe... it has already been twenty years. There are no more 'if nots' to worry about."
Chaoyu's brow twitched twice. She took a slow, deep breath, forcefully suppressing the boiling anger in her chest. "Hmph. Do you have any actual plans?"
However, Su Mei—widely recognized throughout the martial arts world as the female Zhuge Liang—simply shook her head.
"I do not have such things. No matter how detailed a plan might be, does it ever go exactly as desired?" She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "If we had strictly followed the calculations, [She] should have struck that sword blow back then. But she didn't. Perhaps Senior Brother said something to her in those final moments that made her suddenly change her mind."
Su Mei let out a long, wistful sigh. "Therefore, I no longer make rigid plans. Unforeseen changes are happening every single moment, and the human heart... is simply too difficult to calculate."
Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "However, if we can provoke [Her] into acting this time, then there are quite a few ways to proceed." The corners of Su Mei's mouth curved upward into a beautiful, yet chilling, arc.
"Heh." Chaoyu sneered, her tone dripping with disdain. "She did not act twenty years ago. What makes you think she will act now?"
"Senior Sister, didn't I just say it?" Su Mei replied smoothly. "Changes are happening every moment. also, twenty years have passed since that night. Junior Sister Ling Shuang has changed a great deal now..."
Meanwhile, far from the towering peaks of Taixu.
The three finest horses of the Golden Sand Gang were pulling a sturdy flatbed cart, racing across the arid landscape at full speed. Dust kicked up in their wake, trailing into the sky like a long, yellow ribbon.
Li Sushang lay comfortably on the back of the cart, happily humming a tune with no coherent melody. She was in an exceptionally good mood. Perhaps it was the simple joy of knowing she would finally be returning to the Zizai Sect today.
"Senior Brother, tell me some interesting stories about the Taixu Sword Sect." Sushang shifted her position, looking over at Rovel, who was lying flat on the wooden boards, leisurely soaking in the warm sunlight.
"There are no interesting stories," Rovel replied, keeping his eyes closed against the glare. He shook his head slightly. "I just practiced martial arts there every single day, and occasionally went down the mountain to eliminate a few demons. That's it."
"No way!" Sushang pressed, leaning closer. "Such a massive, prestigious sect, and there aren't any juicy sect secrets? What about Uncle-Master Chaoyu or something?"
Rovel cracked one eye open. "Your Uncle-Master Chaoyu is a person with a very gentle temperament on the surface."
He shifted, resting his hands behind his head. "But deep down, she is exceptionally insecure and highly sensitive. She never dares to dwell on the genuine concern of others, and often mistakes their kindness as a spur to push her own desperate efforts."
"Is it really okay for you to gossip about your master behind her back like this?" Sushang giggled, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
"Hehe. We are about to see your master soon," Rovel teased right back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't you just tell me she was 'weird'?"
Sushang's small face immediately fell. She opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but the sudden, rhythmic thundering of approaching horse hooves reached her ears, cutting her off.
She sat up, squinting into the distance. Within sight, a lone rider on horseback was rapidly closing the distance, traveling in the exact same direction as their cart. The steed beneath the stranger was exceptionally fast, eating up the ground with powerful strides.
In just a short while, Sushang was able to see the rider's face clearly. It was a burly, imposing man with wild yellow hair and a thick ring-beard framing his rugged jaw.
Just as the rider drew parallel to cross paths with them, he cast a fleeting glance toward the flatbed cart—whether intentionally or by pure coincidence.
With just that single, passing glance, the burly man's eyes instantly widened. His gaze sharpened into twin blades, and a terrifying, oppressive aura exploded from his body, fully exposed to the desert air.
He flinched, thinking that the swirling yellow sand filling the sky had simply blurred his vision, causing him to hallucinate. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, but snapped them open again a fraction of a second later.
Immediately after, a look of absolute, staggering disbelief flashed across his weathered face.
The very next instant, the man raised his hand. His palm was completely empty, yet blinding sword light abruptly erupted, shooting out in all directions with lethal precision.
Snap!
The thick leather reins pulling the flatbed cart were severed instantly by the invisible energy. Deprived of its forward momentum and violently unbalanced by the attack, the heavy cart instantly sank into the loose sand. Its rear end pitched high into the air before crashing down heavily against the dunes.
The violent impact launched all three occupants straight off the wooden boards. Fortunately, none of them were ordinary mortals. They twisted gracefully in mid-air, bleeding off the kinetic force, and landed easily on the shifting sands.
"!!!" Sushang dropped into a low crouch, staring at the burly man with extreme vigilance. Her eyes widened involuntarily, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She recognized that technique. What the stranger had just unleashed was none other than [Opening Sword · Rock Break]—a foundational technique from the legendary Taixu Sword Forms!
At the exact same time, the burly man noticed Sushang's landing. He recognized the precise flow of her internal energy as she executed [Defensive Sword · Pure Lotus] to touch down steadily on the uneven ground.
It seems this little girl is Junior Sister Ling Shuang's disciple, Ma Feima thought to himself, his eyes narrowing.
But... the girl's identity was absolutely not the reason he had suddenly launched such a reckless attack.
"You! Turn around for me!" Ma Feima roared, his booming voice directed entirely at the young man standing a few paces away. He pointed a trembling finger straight at Rovel.
"?" Sushang blinked, looking toward Rovel in utter confusion. Could this terrifying martial artist be one of Senior Brother Rovel's past enemies?
Rovel, for his part, was surprisingly obedient. He dusted off his sleeves and slowly turned around, lifting his gaze to look directly at Ma Feima.
In that singular instant, that one, calm look struck Ma Feima with a wave of primal, paralyzing terror. The burly warrior completely lost his focus, his grip failing as he unceremoniously tumbled right off the back of his galloping horse, crashing into the dirt.
"Who do you think you are?"
Rovel's words were perfectly calm, lacking any overt malice, yet they caused Ma Feima's very soul to tremble violently inside his chest. The imposing man scrambled to his knees in the dirt. He opened his mouth, gasping for air, completely unable to form a coherent sentence for a long, agonizing moment.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to squeeze two desperate words out from between his chattering teeth. Even his deep, booming voice was reduced to a pathetic, rattling tremble.
"Senior... Brother?"
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