thefictionvixens Page 9
Page 9
"Oh? So, do you prefer dealing with smart people or honest people?"
"An honest person is not necessarily unintelligent, and an intelligent person may also be honest."
"You're so young, where do you get all this logic?"
"intrinsic."
Chapter 12 Of all things under heaven, only family ties are truly precious.
"Alright, Dad, I'll use three swords next."
Mu Qinghan held a sword in one hand, his white robes fluttering wildly in the wind and rain.
His originally aloof and indifferent face was now tinged with a hint of solemnity.
"These are my three strongest sword techniques so far. You must take them seriously. If you relax even slightly, you may be seriously injured."
As soon as he finished speaking, the surging magical energy around him suddenly condensed and was completely contained within his body. He seemed to transform into a sheathed sword, seemingly calm and even, yet concealing a chilling sharpness.
Upon hearing this, Old Man Mu's smile vanished instantly. His hands, which had been casually clasped behind his back, slowly clenched, and his gaze, sharp as torches, locked onto the young man in front of him. He responded in a deep voice.
"Come on, son! I want to see just how much you've improved lately!"
The air around him trembled slightly, and an invisible barrier of magical power quietly unfolded, indicating that he had adjusted himself to his optimal state.
“However…” Mu Qinghan changed the subject, “you can’t take it too seriously, or you might really hurt me.”
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Old Man Mu was so choked by these words that he coughed repeatedly, and his momentum immediately deflated. He waved his hand helplessly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
"I know, I know, Dad knows what to do."
"I will only defend, not attack."
Mu Qinghan tightened his grip on the sword hilt slightly, then raised the sword and pointed it straight ahead.
"The First Sword - Startling Beauty!"
Before the shout had even finished, Mu Qinghan suddenly drew his sword, the sword light slicing through the night sky with a sharp whistling sound.
Old Man Mu only felt a blur before his eyes, and the boy's figure had disappeared from the spot. The next second, he was standing steadily behind Old Man Mu, holding a small piece of blue cloth in his hand.
Mu Qinghan twirled the hem of his garment, turned to look at his father, who was staring in astonishment, and spoke calmly.
“Father, I told you to take this seriously. If that sword strike had been carrying murderous intent, the blade would have gone straight for your heart, and you would be seriously injured now.”
Old Man Mu's eyes were filled with shock, his pupils suddenly contracted, and he slowly turned around, his gaze falling on his son's eyes, which were slightly shimmering with red light.
My son is angry.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and said in a deep voice, "Come on! The second sword!"
"The second sword—Severing Sorrow!"
Another sharp whooshing sound rang out, and Mu Qinghan's figure instantly appeared in front of Old Man Mu, his long sword sweeping horizontally, the cold light aimed directly at his neck.
This sword strike was faster and more cunning than the last, as if it were meant to sever all worldly worries.
Old Man Mu sighed inwardly, not daring to be negligent in the slightest, and shouted, "Stop!"
All the magic power in his body instantly gathered in his palm, forming a thick, pale golden shield of light.
With a crisp "clang," the sword blade landed precisely on the shield, but was firmly blocked just before it touched the palm of the hand, unable to advance even an inch further.
Mu Qinghan flicked his wrist, sheathed his sword, and retreated, his figure tracing a light arc in the air before landing steadily.
Without pausing, his aura shifted once more, and his speed suddenly increased to its maximum.
"The Third Sword - Return to One!"
With a shout, Old Man Mu saw three identical white figures appear before him, each wielding a long sword, thrusting straight at his chest from different directions.
The three sword blades carried a fierce aura, tearing the air with tiny cracks wherever they passed.
"Well done!"
Old Man Mu suddenly spread his legs wide, firmly planted his feet in a horse stance, and his aura surged once again, his magical power flowing like a tide.
"Break!" A roar resounded through the sky, and the powerful magic transformed into an invisible shockwave, crashing fiercely towards the three figures.
The shockwave struck the three figures, instantly knocking them back dozens of meters. The figures then vanished into specks of light upon landing.
It's impossible to crack it so easily!
Old Man Mu's heart was filled with alarm bells. This third sword strike was definitely the strongest one, and it shouldn't be so simple.
He suddenly realized something was wrong, and his years of fighting instincts made him instinctively turn around abruptly.
Suddenly, Mu Qinghan appeared in front of him, her long sword pointing directly at his chest. The blade was only a fraction of an inch from his heart, and the cold sword energy was already stinging his skin.
It turns out that Mu Qinghan had completely concealed his magical power fluctuations from the very beginning.
The three afterimages he sensed earlier were just decoys he deliberately released.
With the first two sword strikes, he deliberately displayed a swift and fierce offensive, making Old Man Mu naturally assume that the third sword strike would be an ultimate killing move that combined speed and power, thus focusing his attention entirely on those three afterimages.
This truly strongest sword strike was surprisingly calm and unassuming, yet it appeared at the most critical moment in the most fatal position.
Looking at the sword blade so close to him, and then at the knowing coldness in his son's eyes, Old Man Mu felt an indescribable shock and relief welling up inside him.
The blade was only half a point from his heart, and the chill had already made his skin numb. Just as Mu Qinghan was about to stop, his father suddenly took a small step forward.
With a soft "crack," the sword tip, imbued with pure sword intent, shattered, sending fine wood chips fluttering down like pollen.
Mu Qinghan's pupils contracted slightly, his hand gripping the sword hilt froze on the spot, and the coldness on his face was instantly replaced by surprise.
He looked up at his father and saw that Old Man Mu's face showed no sign of seriousness, but rather a relieved smile.
For the first time, the boy's voice trembled slightly, carrying a sense of bewilderment and emotion that he himself was unaware of.
"Aren't you... afraid? That sword was so close to you just now, and you... trust me that much?"
"Hahaha! Silly boy!"
Old Man Mu laughed heartily, patted his son's shoulder, and spoke with a tone full of certainty and warmth.
"You are my son, the person closest to me. I would never suspect anyone in this world, and I would never fear anyone but you."
His gaze fell on the shattered sword fragments on the ground, a knowing glint in his eyes.
The sword strike just now appeared sharp, but in reality, the blade had already been subtly infused with a gentle, buffering force by Qinghan.
The tip of the sword has also been tampered with; it will shatter at the slightest obstruction.
Clearly, the son was afraid of actually hurting himself.
Old Man Mu's smile faded. He reached out and gently brushed the sword dust off his son's shoulder. His voice deepened, yet it carried a burning warmth.
“From the time your mother gave birth to Shenqi, and then after you were born, I swore an oath before the ancestral tablet.”
"Fame and fortune are not important in this life. I must protect you two brothers and your mother. Watching you grow up safely and become capable is the meaning of my life."
The meaning of life...
Mu Qinghan's heart clenched suddenly.
He suddenly remembered what Afu had said.
"My life, well, it's been worth it..."
Mu Qinghan felt a stinging sensation in her nose, and her eyes involuntarily reddened, with hot tears welling up in them.
"Hahahaha!"
Upon seeing this, Old Man Mu suddenly burst into laughter, reached out and ruffled his son's hair, his tone full of teasing.
"This is the third time! I've only cried twice in the past ten years, and I never expected to see it again today!"
"If you count them all, all three times you cried were because of me. It seems you still care about your old father!"
Mu Qinghan felt a little embarrassed by what was said. She reached up and wiped her eyes, but when she looked up, she caught a glimpse of tears quietly sliding down her father's cheeks.
He sniffed and retorted in a muffled voice, "You're the one who's criticizing me, but you cried too."
Old Man Mu quickly turned his face away, wiped his eyes haphazardly, and stubbornly retorted.
"That's rainwater getting into your eyes. A real man doesn't cry."
As he spoke, he opened his arms and hugged his son tightly, patting his back, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Good lad, you've grown up, you've really grown up..."
"Well, I believe you."
"Haha, you little rascal, you've finally managed to say something nice."
Under the pavilion ahead, Grandma Mu watched the scene unfold before her, tears silently streaming down her face.
"Those two clowns, really..."
Chapter 13 Darkness
The copper bells hanging from the corners of the pavilion jingled, and the pavilion was bustling with activity.
Ji Wuji, Mu Shenqi, and Deng Qiyue sat around a wooden table, where the braised pork knuckle and braised beef on the table had long since gone cold.
However, the wine jars piled up haphazardly in front of and behind him gleamed with an oily sheen.
The wine seeped out through the cracks in the jar and splashed onto the ground.
"Hey, Mu Shenqi, have you reached your limit?"
Ji Wuji rested his chin on one hand, while toying with the empty wine bowl in the other, his eyes full of mischief.
He was wearing a moon-white brocade robe today, the collar of which was loose, the hem stained with wine, and a corner of it had been cut off at some point.
Mu Shen slammed his fist on the table, making the wine bowl rattle. He stiffened his neck, his cheeks so red they looked like they could bleed.
"Bullshit! I can fight another five hundred rounds!"
Although he spoke with a strong tone, his tongue was already slurring as he spoke, and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He reached out to reach the wine jar across the table, but his fingers slid past the rim of the jar several times.
"Hiss... Why, why can't I touch it?"