King of Hundred Victories Saber

Lin Wanqing chimed in from the side, her delicate brows slightly knitted, resembling willow leaves gently crinkled under the spring breeze, her eyes full of concern.

As she spoke, she cautiously glanced around, her gaze sharp and vigilant, fearing that Xie Zhichuan's men would once again appear like phantoms. "What Miss Gong says is very true. Xie Zhichuan is vindictive and unpredictable. Who knows what further devious tricks he might employ? We'd best leave as soon as possible."

Shi Feiyang, however, straightened his back, his posture as firm as a pine tree, his face bearing an expression of fearless valor, proclaiming boldly, "What is there to fear? When the enemy comes, we fight them; when floods come, we block them. I refuse to believe in such evil. By carriage back to Jiangnan, I want to see what further tricks he can play!" His voice was firm, echoing like a resounding bell through the air, exuding an undeniable aura of authority.

His raised head, his resolute gaze, all testified to his bravery and boldness, as if he could stand against the downfall of the heavens alone.

Seeing Shi Feiyang's determination, Gong Simeng and Lin Wanqing exchanged a glance and sighed helplessly, a sigh full of resignation towards Shi Feiyang's stubbornness. In the end, they nodded in agreement. Thus, the three decided to leave Jinhui Inn and continue their journey southwards.

Before departing, they approached the innkeeper's wife, and Shi Feiyang cupped his hands in obeisance, courteously saying, "Thank you for your care all this while. Such great kindness cannot be repaid with mere words of gratitude. If ever there is a need, do not hesitate to ask." The innkeeper's wife smiled like the warm sun of spring, blessing them, "Safe travels to you, happiness and safety. The Jianghu is perilous, be cautious in all things."

Shi Feiyang and Gong Simeng walked out of the inn hand in hand.

Lin Wanqing followed behind.

All three set off towards their next destination.

Shi Feiyang looked up, gazing into the distance, his eyes steadfast and deep, his heart filled with anticipation and yearning for the future.

The path through the Jianghu is long, but with companionship, even the most arduous journey becomes full of hope and courage.

However, on their way to Suzhou Prefecture, unforeseen changes awaited Shi Feiyang and his companions.

That day, the three of them traveled by carriage to the northern outskirts of Kaifeng Prefecture, into the mountain forest.

The originally clear sky was instantly shrouded by dark clouds, an inky mass roiling like a black tempest, surging from all directions, enveloping the entire sky in an impenetrable curtain.

Ferocious winds howled like a furious beast roaring, raindrops as large as beans pummeled the earth, splashing water everywhere.

The three of them, along with the Vermilion Bird and the White Tiger, struggled onward in the carriage through the storm, the wheels barely turning in the muddy path, emitting a constant creaking sound.

Finally, they found a rundown inn. The wooden door creaked in the fierce wind, as if it might be overturned at any moment, its sound particularly mournful amidst the storm.

The inn's wooden door screeched under the battering of the wild wind.

The sound was sharp and piercing, like the wailing of a ghost, standing out starkly amidst the storm's clamor.

Shi Feiyang pushed open the wooden door, met by a burst of damp and decayed air so intense it was nauseating. It mixed with the acrid smell of mildew and the rot of old wood, a fusion of evil scents bred by time and dark corners.

In the dim light, tables and chairs lay askew, as if the aftermath of a brutal battle.

Some table and chair legs were broken, scattered in disarray on the floor; others stood crookedly, telling of their past encounters.

The walls were crawling with moss, the green growth emitting an eerie glow in the dimness, like hidden watchers in the darkness.

The inn was filled with a mysterious and eerie atmosphere, giving the impression that it harbored unknown secrets, where danger might spring from any corner at any moment.

Gong Simeng clutched tightly to Shi Feiyang's arm, her nails nearly digging into his skin, her eyes wide with unease and fear: "This place feels so creepy, could there be something strange here?"

Lin Wanqing also gazed around cautiously, her eyes as sharp as an eagle's, missing not a single corner.

Her hand instinctively rested on her sword hilt, the hilt quivering slightly in her trembling grip, revealing her inner tension.

In such an oppressive environment, the conflicts and emotional entanglements between the characters were further amplified.

Gong Simeng occasionally glanced at Lin Wanqing, her gaze not losing its wariness, like a small animal guarding its food, constantly on alert against intruders trying to snatch it away; Lin Wanqing, feeling trapped in this place, grew restless, her attitude towards Gong Simeng turning more impatient, a flicker of annoyance passing through her eyes, as if Gong Simeng's presence was the root of this predicament.

Shi Feiyang was caught in the middle, acutely aware of the undercurrents between the two, inwardly vexed yet having to muster his energy to try to ease the tense atmosphere and placate them both.

In an instant, the world changed colors, dark clouds surged like a black tide from all corners, enveloping the sky in a blink, blocking all light. The sky seemed to be pressed down by a massive black curtain, suffocatingly compressed.

The storm wind carried raindrops as large as beans, pouring down like whistling arrows, pelting the earth with a "pitter-patter."

As the raindrops hit the ground, they splashed up in layers of water, each as fleeting as a blooming white flower of witchcraft, appearing momentarily, yet constantly renewing. The streets transformed in an instant into a vast expanse of water, the floodwaters rising swiftly, submerging the ankles, the current rapid as if threatening to sweep everything into an endless abyss.