Liu Guihua threw her head back in laughter, the sound bright and bold, like sumr thunder suddenly breaking through, reverberating freely across the vast grasslands, startling distant birds into flight.
She heavily slapped the sword at her waist, the scabbard clashing with her palm, emitting a dull sound, eyes filled with confidence and pride, loudly declaring, "Our association is led by my husband, what stormy waves can’t we overco? Today, didn’t we force Blood Rakshasa to flee in defeat! Any reckless wretch daring to provoke us in the future will surely et their doom, let them realize the might of our association’s brothers! My husband possesses unparalleled Divine Skill, who in the Jianghu can contend with him?"
With that, a confident curve appeared at the corner of her mouth, her eyes full of admiration and trust for Shi Feiyang.
It was midsumr, the sun scorching, its intense rays pouring unabated onto the grassland that had just witnessed a fierce battle.
On the grassland, the grass was deeply soaked with blood, the crimson hue juxtaposed with the lush green, weaving a stark and tragic picture.
A gentle breeze passed by, carrying the dense scent of blood, mixed with the scent of grass, perating the air, almost making one nauseous.
Shi Feiyang stood with hands clasped, quietly gazing at the wrecked scene before him, filled with myriad emotions.
He recalled past events, the constant conflicts in the Jianghu, how many innocent lives lost among them, and himself, as the Grand Squad Leader of the Heroic Sakura Association, bearing the duty of upholding justice in the Jianghu. The road ahead is long, life is difficult, and he may have to endure countless battles.
Silently, he sheathed the Celestial Frost Blade, the blade like a fleeting cold light, vanishing instantly into the deerskin pouch at his waist, unseen by ordinary eyes. Having experienced this battle, Shi Feiyang was already certain that from now on, no weapon was needed; his own two palms would be the most formidable Divine Weapon, enough to traverse the treacherous Jianghu, protecting his brothers, wife, and countless people.
Then, Shi Feiyang raised his arm and shouted with a voice like a ringing bell, "Brothers, return to camp!"
This voice was firm and powerful, carrying an innate authority, seemingly able to pierce the sky and instill awe.
The heroes and various ladies all responded, packing their gear, and a mighty procession set off toward the camp, their steps orderly and strong, showing the unity and strength of the Heroic Sakura Association.
Blood Rakshasa, face grave, feet heavy as if filled with lead, slowly returned to the Kerchin Tribe.
She walked straight up to Dugu Yan, slightly bowed, fist in palm salutation, her tone filled with self-reproach and guilt, slowly saying, "Senior Brother Dugu, this ti, I have failed, truly letting you down. Shi Feiyang’s martial arts exceed the mundane, I exhausted all my abilities, yet still could not kill him, truly ashad of your trust and invitation, I hope Senior Brother can forgive. This defeat leaves unwilling, eager to confront Shi Feiyang again, but the gap in strength is undeniable, I must concede."
She slightly lowered her head, eyes full of regret and loss.
Dugu Yan looked dejected, his gaze empty and unfocused, as if losing his soul.
Without a word, he slowly turned away, not even nodding in acknowledgnt, his silhouette extrely desolate, every step heavy, his inner anguish and sorrow evident.
He had hoped Blood Rakshasa could avenge his five sons, but now that hope is dashed, his despair like surging tide completely engulfing him.
Lan Xiaodie stood by, witnessing everything, deeply shocked.
She never imagined that Blood Rakshasa, known throughout the Martial Arts world, would be so easily bested by Shi Feiyang.
That night, the desert wind and sand roared outside the tent, the wind sounded like ghostly wails, chilling to the bone.
Lan Xiaodie lay on the felt blanket, staring straight at the tent top, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Her mind constantly conjured Shi Feiyang’s image, his peerless martial arts, every move seed to contain world-destroying power; his stable bearing, unflinching in the face of strong enemies, inspiring her respect.
She couldn’t help but ponder, who exactly is Shi Feiyang, with such incredible prowess?
Between herself and him, is there truly an insurmountable gulf?
Blood Rakshasa’s disciples Liu Pingsheng, Wu Zhengliang, and Ling Lanzhi sat around the campfire, watching the flickering flas, their thoughts turbulent.
Liu Pingsheng frowned, worriedly said, "I never thought Shi Feiyang’s martial arts were so supre, even Master is no match for him. We previously thought of seeking revenge against him, but now it seems, it’s simply overestimating ourselves."
Wu Zhengliang sighed, helplessly shook his head, said, "Indeed, what should we do? The ’hatred’ between us seems hard to resolve easily. If we rashly trouble him again, it would be like striking a stone with an egg."
Ling Lanzhi was silent, her gaze revealing a trace of confusion, secretly pondering whether to re-evaluate her grudge with Shi Feiyang. She had been blinded by hatred all along, now it seems, perhaps she should let go of prejudice and rethink her future path. That night, they collectively lost sleep, their hearts filled with uncertainty and anxiety about the future, as if lost at sea, directionless.
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