Chapter 145: Misty Rain Sword

When the sky was just getting light, a wooden ox cart slowly traveled on the official road to Jianshui City.

The driver was a middle-aged farmer with a full beard, bare-chested. Perhaps because he worked in the fields year-round, his skin was tanned a bronze color, making him look especially strong at first glance. On the cart, there was a layer of straw, and lying on it was an old man with a sallow complexion and thin as a stick. He was weak and listless, and even in the hot weather, he was covered with a thick cotton quilt, as if seriously ill. Next to him sat a middle-aged peasant woman with red eyes, wearing a coarse long skirt and carrying a tattered bundle. She wept the whole way, appearing deeply sorrowful.

With the help of Old Man Li, Mu Feng and Jing Wushuang disguised themselves as a middle-aged couple, sending their seriously ill grandfather into the city for treatment. They didn’t know until they tried—after the new disguise, they discovered Old Man Li really had some tricks. Using some mud, herbs, and a few ragged clothes, he made the three of them look no different from ordinary villagers.

Early in the morning, there were few travelers on the road. But not long after they set out, a rapid sound of horse hooves suddenly came from the distance. Then, the figures of several riders appeared on a distant hilltop. After pausing briefly, they charged down with a whoosh. As the distance closed, they could see these were fierce knights wearing white robes, long swords hanging at their waists, and large bamboo hats covering most of their faces.

Immortal Sword Sect!

As expected, the Immortal Sword Sect had set up many informants along the way, checking every suspicious person passing by.

“They’re here!”

Mu Feng’s heart tightened, immediately recognizing the identity of these white-robed knights. Without turning his head, he quietly warned Jing Wushuang behind him, “Shuang’er, don’t be so nervous, relax, it’s fine!”

“Mm.”

Jing Wushuang responded lightly, lowering her head and pretending to look sad.

“Stop, stop right there!”

The leading White-robed Swordsman galloped forward on his horse, leading several white-robed knights to block the ox cart. With a swish, he unfolded a portrait in his hand. His gaze was sharp as it swept over the three of them, and he coldly asked, “Who are you? Where is your hometown? Where are you going?”

“S-sirs, I… I am from Bull Fence Mountain. This is my wife. We’re together sending… sending our grandfather to the city for treatment.”

Mu Feng’s voice was hoarse as he pretended to be simple and honest, anxious and fearful, stammering as he continued, “The village doctor s-said… said that my grandfather c-caught… caught this illness, called… called something like a cold. He must… must see a city doctor to be cured!”

A cold?

The leading White-robed Swordsman glanced at Old Man Li lying on the cart—sallow-faced and barely breathing—then quickly turned his horse aside, afraid the old man’s cold might be contagious. With a cold snort, he waved his hand impatiently. “Alright, go on!”

“Th-thank you, sirs, thank you!”

Mu Feng thanked them repeatedly, forcing a smile as he jumped off the ox cart. He pulled out a few blackened, roasted sweet potatoes from the straw beneath the old man and offered them to the leading White-robed Swordsman. “Sir, I… I have no silver, only some… some sweet potatoes grown in my own field. They were just roasted this morning. Please take… take…”

“Enough, who wants your sweet potatoes?”

Before the stammering Mu Feng could finish, the White-robed Swordsman impatiently waved his hand, telling him to hurry off.

There was an old man lying on the cart with a cold, looking like he might die at any moment. No one dared to get close. Who would dare eat the blackened sweet potatoes dug out from under him?

“Yes, th-thank you, sir!”

Mu Feng jumped back onto the ox cart and drove the large water buffalo away slowly.

“Strange, we’ve been guarding here a whole day and night without finding anything. Could it be that scholar really vanished into thin air?”

“Exactly. I heard even the Young Master died by his hand, turned into a dried-up corpse. Who knows what kind of Devil Leader he is!”

…

After turning past a grove of trees, the voices of the White-robed Swordsmen still faintly reached them from behind.

Guarded a whole day and night?

Mu Feng gave a cold smile and drove the carriage away expressionlessly.

Along the way, they encountered checkpoints almost every five miles, meeting more and more White-robed Swordsmen. Whether they were simple villagers or passing nobles, no one dared to resist in the slightest, letting them conduct thorough inspections, turning over the accompanying carriages and luggage inside out. In contrast, when they saw his slow, uncovered ox cart, they often just glanced and waved them through. The journey was thrilling but without real danger.

Old Man Li’s excellent disguise, combined with Mu Feng’s calmness along the way, successfully deceived all the Immortal Sword Sect’s informants on the road. As night fell, the three lodged at a roadside inn, planning to set out again the next day. Haste makes waste—although they wished to travel through the night, to avoid suspicion, it was better to stay one night and continue tomorrow.

Hu…

The night wind blew in gusts, bringing waves of coolness to the hot inn. People gradually fell asleep.

In the deep quiet of the night, after confirming everyone around was asleep, Mu Feng—who had been meditating cross-legged in the room—finally removed the gradually fading disguise. Suddenly, he leaped through the window. In a few bounds, he silently reached the Back Mountain of the inn.

Standing on the mountaintop and looking around, everything was pitch black. The entire small town was shrouded in thick night. He couldn’t see any White-robed Swordsmen of the Immortal Sword Sect, nor did he encounter Blind Master’s spies, but Mu Feng was sure they were lurking along the road. They had set a tight net, waiting for him to walk right into it.

Where were Fourth Lady Mei and Feng Qianjin now? Had they encountered any danger?

Gazing at the dark night sky, Mu Feng frowned with worry.

The Immortal Sword Sect was determined to succeed. Fourth Lady Mei and Feng Qianjin, sitting in his carriage to attract their attention, were clearly taking great risks. Once pursued by experts from the Immortal Sword Sect’s Sword Hall, a fierce battle would be unavoidable. Although Fourth Lady Mei and Feng Qianjin were both strong experts in the Elite Realm, the Immortal Sword Sect’s masters were even more formidable. If surrounded, the consequences would be dire!

Remembering the short, stout, and smiling Feng Qianjin, a thought stirred in Mu Feng’s heart. He took out the small booklet Feng Qianjin had given him before leaving.

“Misty Rain Nine Swords, mist borrows rain to form, rain borrows mist to rise…”

Mu Feng carefully read through the small booklet in his hand, imprinting every word and every movement in his mind. After a long while, he put away the booklet, but a complete set of sword techniques appeared in his thoughts.

Clang…

Mu Feng drew the treasured sword given by Fourth Lady Mei and thrust it forward. Pinpoints of cold light appeared in the night sky, sword energy crisscrossing. The attacks were elusive, both false and real, enveloping all targets within ten meters. An imposing chill then spread out from his body as the center. The damp ground, dense leaves, and even the tangled grass lying flat began to emit wispy mist.

Mist-Locked Cold River of the Misty Rain Nine Swords!

With one sword thrust, Mu Feng actually showed a bit of the style from that day at Yanyulou, the sword energy imposing.

After practicing the Misty Rain Sword briefly, Mu Feng sat down cross-legged. He raised his hand and summoned the Eighteen Blood Witch Commands to protect himself. Then, with a thought, his Spiritual Soul left his body. It hovered three feet above his head, quietly sensing the surroundings.

Compared to when he passed through Windy Gap, the Spiritual Soul suspended above his head had grown stronger. With a single thought, he could release an intimidating bloody aura. Instantly, all the lonely ghosts within several miles fearfully hid away. The Yin Energy on the Back Mountain was swept clean.

After seizing the power of Assassin Dao Duanliu, his strength had grown again.

“Killing and plundering truly are the best cultivation methods!”

Mu Feng carefully sensed the changes in his Spiritual Soul. After confirming there was no danger, his Spiritual Soul whooshed away, transforming into a streak of bloody light that vanished at the horizon.

Soul Roaming a Thousand Miles!

His main body sat cross-legged on the Back Mountain, unmoving, while his Spiritual Soul roamed in all directions at night, scouting the enemy’s situation.

Throughout the day, although they avoided danger, Mu Feng remained vigilant and dared not let his guard down. He hoped that under the cover of night, he could carefully probe the movements of the Immortal Sword Sect and Blind Master, so as not to accidentally step into their trap.

Not to mention the giant Immortal Sword Sect with their immense methods—even Blind Master Bi Luotian, the former great Devil Leader, was a master strategist. If he could think of ways to disguise himself and deceive everyone, how could he know whether they had countermeasures of their own?