Why do I have so many masters?

As if a shadow following the form.

The youth dressed in blue walked ahead, his thoughts captured by the jade pendant in his hand, and even at this time, every step he took was consistently the same distance apart, as if measured by a ruler for precision, his footsteps rhythmic, revealing an extremely solid foundation in movement technique.

This should have been a praiseworthy thing.

But now, it was because of this solid foundation in movement technique that he gave the newcomer an opportunity to exploit.

The figure's movement technique was extremely agile, the noise produced was very soft, and furthermore, every time he landed, it was alongside the youth's footsteps, the faint sounds masked by Wang Anfeng's steps, like the ghostly spirits of legend, drawing closer to the youth.

When he was about three steps away from Wang Anfeng, the clouds in the sky gathered and dispersed, obscuring the bright moon.

The newcomer tiptoed lightly on the stone pavement, no longer concealing his figure; Qi Force burst forth from his feet, swirling around, propelling him into the air like a Flying Eagle with folded wings, his left hand's fingers curled inward, twisting his body, turning his wrist, reaching for the jade pendant in Wang Anfeng's hand, his fingers pinched as if they were the beak of a crane, swooping down toward Wang Anfeng's left shoulder.

One move and two styles, stirring a whistling through the air.

Wang Anfeng seemed startled, his right hand trembling, the jade pendant falling down below, the moon-white vapor gathered at the dragon head tracing out dazzling lines, the newcomer's right hand reflexively scooping below, catching the beautiful jade in hand, but his own stance was thereby distorted, as he prepared to regather his Vigorous Qi.

Wang Anfeng, however, precisely took a step backward, his right arm bent at the elbow, naturally dropping behind him.

Because he had not sensed the killing intent, he only used seventy percent of his vigor.

In the middle of the thunderous explosion, the person's body was slightly stiff; Wang Anfeng, who had been in many battles at Shaolin Temple, instantly knew that the other person's Internal Force Martial Body was similar to his own, and his right hand naturally lifted, holding the other's right wrist, Thunder Vigor flashing past, striking his meridians.

The latter's right hand trembled slightly, the hazy moon pendant fell, caught by Wang Anfeng. The newcomer sensed something amiss and started to retreat hastily; his movement technique was quite exquisite, and in a blink, he had created a distance of three steps from Wang Anfeng. It was at this moment that the youth's right hand swiftly grabbed the handle of the sword on his back, and amidst the ringing of the sword, drew it from its scabbard.

The wooden sword traced an arc in the air.

The clouds dispersed and fog cleared, the moonlight was bright and clear.

In the moonlight, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth in black clothing, his face deathly pale, stood on the ground, his body rigid, not daring to make the slightest movement.

The Eight-Sided Wooden Sword was neither an inch too long nor a fraction too short, precisely pointing at his throat, as if it had been calculated countless times, its precision astonishing, and it was this precision that stirred an incredible sense of terror in his heart.

His eyes looked at the calm-faced youth in blue under the moonlight, recalling every detail of the attack just then, only feeling a chill climbing up his spine, gripping his heart within his chest.

Had he been seen through?!

The pupils of the youth in black clothing contracted slightly.

The jade pendant fell.

Retreat, strike, draw the sword.

Was everything within his calculations?!

Feeling the prick on his throat, he had no doubts that this apparently wooden longsword could easily pierce through his throat.

If he had drawn his sword just a breath earlier, or stepped forward one step...

At this thought, a cold sweat broke out on his back, and he felt as if he had just taken a loop around the hall of the king of hell. He raised his hands, spreading his fingers wide, to show he carried no weapon, and squeezed out a harmless smile, saying,

"Relax..."

"Please relax, Keeper of the Archives..."

Internally, he gritted his teeth.

Just wait until my leader comes and deals with you, then you'll get what's coming to you!

Just then, the youth in front of him nodded slightly, the longsword still pointed at his throat, unmoved, his brows and eyes calm and faintly detached, his gaze turned towards the east, his left hand casually hanging the moon-white jade pendant on his waistband, his posture relaxed, his spirit clean, resembling a cold plum under the moonlight, inviting a friend to join him, casually saying,

"Since you've come, why not come out and meet?"

The voice paused, and the young man in black felt a jolt in his heart, yet he saw that the alley remained as silent and still as ever, with no response, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

That was close, the leader hadn't been so easily provoked as before.

As this thought relaxed him, he suddenly realized the truly important detail, and his eyes widened slightly.

Something's not right!

Had this Keeper of the Archives really discovered the leader?!

Looking at the youth in front, whether it was the fear in his heart, he felt the newly ranked Keeper of the Archives on the Constellation Ranking List was becoming even more unfathomable.

The moss-covered walls built of green stones on both sides of the alley extended quietly deep into the distance, as if endless, encompassing the realms of 'here' and 'there,' the youth holding the sword standing upon the earth, with the bright moon above; in a trance, he almost felt he was facing not a common youth, but the bright moon and sky itself, the very Heaven and Earth before him.

While he was in shock, he saw the Keeper of the Archives turn and look at him again, speaking earnestly,

"According to the Great Qin Legal Code, unprovoked assault is one of the six punitive crimes, an unpardonable offense."

"You can kill him on the spot with no crime attached,"

The smile on the face of the boy in black stiffened.

He then noticed the wooden sword at his throat gradually increasing its pressure, as sharp as he had imagined, with his skin effortlessly sliced open. The slightly bright evening breeze of the autumn night rushed into the torn muscles and blood vessels, a unique sensation that set one's heart trembling.

The warm blood flowed down from the wound.

Then, blown by the night wind, it lost its last warmth and slowly congealed.

The boy in black shivered, the overly earnest eyes of the library guardian in front of him giving him a real feeling of impending death. The terror of being instantly captured after a failed attack now magnified immeasurably, turning into the fear and dread of facing death, causing him to involuntarily shriek:

"Big Sister, Big Sister, Big Sister!"

"This guy's serious, he really wants to chop me up!"

"Someone, help!"

Wang Anfeng remained unmoved, Wu Changqing's teachings echoing in his ears, his movements steadier. The woman hiding at the side seemed unable to hold back any longer. A Vigorous Qi shot abruptly toward a spot three feet in front of Wang Anfeng, creating a crack on the ground.

Fragments of stone shot up.

Wang Anfeng stepped into the Position of the Nine Palaces of the Taoist Sect, shifted his body behind the youth in black, his right hand wielding the sword, while his left hand turned into a claw-like grip, hooked onto the youth's throat. If he were to channel his Inner Qi, his fingers would be as firm as steel, and with the strength of his tendons and bones, he could ruthlessly tear it apart, using this as a threat.

It wasn't until then that he felt slightly relieved in his heart and finally had the time to look at the woman before him, noticing her dressed in black and red Vigorous Attire, with a commanding presence in her brows and eyes. He saw the standard-issue Great Qin battle sabre in her hands and how she pressed her hand to her forehead in a helpless gesture while watching the screaming boy in black.

A familiar cold voice sounded by Wang Anfeng's ear, his expression unchanged. His gaze shifted from the young woman, looking sideways towards a shadow, he softly said:

"General, why don't you come out?"

The other two present changed their expressions subtly. After a moment of silence, from that shadow stepped forth a middle-aged man, clad in light leather armor, his face with rough features, his eyebrows thick and disheveled, emanating a strong and unwavering vigor.

On his back was a longsword with bronze tiger stripes, as if stained with blood, covered in red rust.

He cupped his fists and said in a deep voice:

"I don't deserve the title of General."

The young woman let out a breath, hand to her forehead, and sighed:

"Now that everyone's here, please, library guardian, show some generosity."

"Just treat this idiot as a fart and let it go."

Wang Anfeng nodded, released the grip of his left hand on the youth, who staggered, almost falling to the ground. As soon as he broke free, he pressed one hand to the wound on his neck, wailing:

"I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying!"

"Big Sister, give me golden sore medicine..."

His voice came to an abrupt halt, and when he removed his right hand, it was only stained with a faint trace of blood, as if he had accidentally scraped his skin. Nevertheless, the fear he had felt, as if he were on the brink of being torn apart, still lingered in his heart, unwilling to disperse, a dazed and vacant look appearing on his face.

Wang Anfeng sheathed his longsword, the Qi Force around his body dissipated.

If these people harbored ill intentions toward him, his modest martial arts would be no different against the middle-aged man, whether he had a sword or not. He still had to rely on Mr. Ying to take him back to Shaolin.

Sheathing his sword could make them uncertain and hesitant.

If their actions were merely a test and bore no killing intent, then his own actions would appear all the more candid and composed.

The young woman across seemed contemplative, sheathed her battle sabre with a wave of her hand, and cupped her fists:

"I apologize for the disturbance today. I intended for him to make contact with you, but I didn't expect him to strike directly."

"If we have offended you in any way, I hope you can be lenient."

Wang Anfeng shook his head, indicating that he didn't mind, his mind filled with many questions about the unexpected events of the night.

Unlike the pursuit from the White Tiger Hall, whether it was the boy in black, the young woman in front of him, or the silent middle-aged man, their appearance had no warning whatsoever.

They repeatedly referred to him as the library guardian, obviously using this title to find him.
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But he really didn't know why the name 'library guardian' was significant.

He then cupped his fists with a slight bow, and asked:

"I am Wang Anfeng. May I know the purpose of your visit tonight?"

PS: Second update