Chapter Twenty-Seven: Murder in the Street

With every movement, Xie Peiling felt a mysterious guidance from the void, an intuition that allowed him to react before Chu Yizhuo could even launch his attacks. Every technique he unleashed felt entirely natural, a pure manifestation of his body’s innate instincts.

"Is it my turn now?"

He lifted his right hand from the scabbard. With a crisp "clang," a brilliant light flashed like a dragon in flight. Sword qi rippled and surged around him, only to dissipate and return to the edge of the blade the moment his palm closed around the hilt.

Chu Yizhuo had not expected that in the blink of an eye, Xie Peiling would become so formidable simply by gripping his sword. That piercing sword qi seemed to condense the bleak, howling winds of the surroundings, while subtle spiritual energy swirled in the air. Chu Yizhuo had never imagined that the advantage he thought he held would turn into this. Suddenly, the sword qi contracted—like rain on the verge of falling, separated from the cessation of his own heartbeat by only a fraction of an instant.

It began to rain. Around the small bridge, a rhythmic pitter-patter echoed as droplets fell from the sky, striking the ground like needles. The traces of pedestrians on the bridge were washed away, revealing the white stone beneath. Xie Peiling narrowed his eyes, recalling the foundational sword techniques recorded in the *Classic of the Immortal Elder’s Taiji and the Supreme Path of Transcendence*. His entire being felt as desolate as an autumn wind; as the breeze stirred his dark hair, he held his hilt with a feather-light touch.

Chu Yizhuo stared at him, having already dropped to one knee at some point, his longsword plunged into the bluestone pavement. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to stand. Still relying on his sword arts, he manifested thousands of sword shadows, launching them toward Xie Peiling.

Xie Peiling swung his blade, each strike releasing immense, overwhelming sword qi that collided with the surrounding shadows. With a jarring screech, the shadows dissolved into thin air. Relying on his spiritual energy, Xie Peiling surged through the storm of sword light, his every step unpredictable and bewildering. Suddenly, the points where his phantom movements landed formed a distinct line.

Though they stood several yards apart, in an instant, they were connected by a pattern of seven stars.

Chu Yizhuo knew that the more panicked he became, the less chance he had of defeating his opponent. He forced himself to remain calm. The footwork and sword techniques Xie Peiling had just displayed had effortlessly shattered his shadows, proving that this man was no ordinary foe. Yet, no fear appeared on Chu Yizhuo’s face. A flash of light shimmered in his right hand; the blade of his sword seemed coated in radiance, and in an instant, characters pierced through the circular aperture of the sword hilt.

The sword seemed to come alive in Chu Yizhuo’s grip. This time, the light blades were faster and more powerful than before. The sword qi was elaborate, shimmering like surging waves. While Xie Peiling had relied on instinct to clear away the previous shadows, these currents of energy forced him to gather every ounce of his focus.

The intensity of their duel was immense. From the moment they first clashed, the local townsfolk had gathered. Some recognized Xie Peiling as the man who had severely wounded Chan Mingqi with a single strike. As for the man opposite him, they could not see him clearly; he was completely swathed in a blinding, piercing sword qi. Seeing this, the crowd was shocked, their confusion deepening as they wondered which young lady could possibly be worth so many people fighting over a marriage contract.

The sword qi transformed into flowing water, then thinned into threads that struck at Xie Peiling’s body from every angle, as if attempting to carve him into pieces. The strikes were ruthless, clearly intended to kill on the spot. Xie Peiling did not retreat. He faced the tempest of sword light head-on, fearless. Ripples of energy surged across his body, as luminous as a pearl in the moonlight.

The young man was, in every sense, draped in stars and moonlight. The sword in his hand was like autumn water, layers of light flickering until his form pierced through everything, thrusting straight ahead.

Chu Yizhuo’s eyes widened. Upon seeing this familiar sword style, he involuntarily let go of his grip and stood frozen. Two years ago, he had been defeated by this very strike by another youth—one two years younger than Xie Peiling was now—who had used this same move to shatter all his hopes.

He had later learned that the youth was Han Jiang of the Yingtian Taoist Temple, and the technique was the "Single Moon Blade" from his sect. Since then, he had vowed to take his revenge, but before he could prepare himself, here was that same sword move again. In total disbelief, Chu Yizhuo felt his body run through by the blade.

The crowd, seeing this, assumed he would hold back as he had before, and they began to applaud. After all, Chan Mingqi had only been severely wounded previously, and it was rare for them to witness cultivators dueling; seeing it twice in one day was more than enough.

Chu Yizhuo gritted his teeth, a red mist rising from his body as he unleashed his final trump card, desperate to fight Xie Peiling once more. But Xie Peiling gave him no chance. Having anticipated his intent, he pulled his sword out with a fluid motion—so fast that no one present could track it—and stepped back.

Just as Chu Yizhuo reached out his right hand to summon his weapon, Xie Peiling flipped his wrist, the sword held low beneath his arm. A flash of brilliant light erupted, and with a single stroke, he severed Chu Yizhuo’s head.

The crowd erupted in a clamor. Blood sprayed into the air, staining the small creek with a sorrowful, crimson ripple. The leading townsfolk recoiled, their pupils contracting in horror, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

"Did... did he kill him?"

Nearby, Chu Xianlu smiled, clapping her hands in a most peculiar manner. She had not followed the crowd in their initial reaction.

The sword qi surrounding Chu Yizhuo’s body dissipated. The onlookers were left speechless. This was a direct descendant of the Chu family, ranked even higher than Chan Mingqi among their contemporaries. Though the difference in rank was small, the gap in actual strength was vast, leaving the crowd stunned.

This was the second time a member of the Chu family had died in this period. The last time, the owner of the Hua Nian Pharmacy had flown into a rage and personally destroyed their signboard, though the details remained unknown to the public. But this time was different; they had witnessed it with their own eyes.

And all because of a scrap of marriage paper.

If a nobody died, like Qionglin Yan, no one would care unless Xie Peiling had been involved. The body would simply rot in the creek, eventually washed away to some unknown place. Chu Yizhuo was a member of the Chu family, so his death carried a different weight, yet he ended up just like the nameless Qionglin Yan—dead in this very spot.

"I said that once you were dead, there would be no need to dwell on it. But you insisted, so I have done the same."

As he spoke, a red glow, like the blooming of spider lilies, engulfed the water’s surface in a layer of intense solar radiance. After a burst of embers, it was carried away by the wind, destination unknown.

Amidst this shocking scene, Xie Peiling walked resolutely into the distance, his expression firm. Chu Xianlu, as ever, followed close behind him.