Warmth briefly flickered in Zhan Ri Fei’s eyes, but he made no move to rise from the ground.
— Could it be that he no longer even had the strength to stand?
“I regret to say,” Zhan Ri Fei replied, “that my sword is not meant for friends.”
Huo Xiao Di snapped, “Who said I’m friends with a demon like you?! Draw your sword already! The people of Ling Long Manor do not kill the unarmed!”
Zhan Ri Fei cast a glance at Huo Xiao Di and said calmly, “If you’ve decided I’m a demon, then there’s no need to abide by the rules of the martial world. To be honest, at this point, I don’t even have the strength to draw my sword.”
Huo Xiao Di’s voice turned hoarse with fury. “Why tell me that?! Do you think by telling me, I’ll hesitate? That you’ll avoid fighting me?”
Zhan Ri Fei didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze shifted to the window. Suddenly, his face turned ashen, and his lips trembled as though he wanted to speak, yet no words came out.
Following his line of sight, Huo Xiao Di looked outside. The crescent mountain moon was now directly overhead. Its pale, ghostly light reflected on the Yin Yang An, casting a slanted shadow of the moon onto the blade. Just then, with a sharp “shing,” the sword in his hand gave a slight, eerie tremor.
— Midnight had arrived.
Huo Xiao Di’s face grew as pale as the moonlight itself.
— “So, it’s already midnight.”
— “So, your ‘Old Friends at First Sight’ poison is acting up now.”
Zhan Ri Fei remained silent, his body wracked with pain. His face contorted, his lips bitten so hard they bled. The turmoil within his body, the searing agony that felt like being cut by a thousand knives, was etched on his twisted expression. To Huo Xiao Di, it was like watching a nightmare unfold—a nightmare he knew all too well. Memories of Tang Tian Hao flooded back, vivid and near, as though they were happening again. For a moment, Huo Xiao Di stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
Suddenly, he felt a tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he saw Chang Hong Bi clutching it tightly, his face as pale as death.
Huo Xiao Di tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, he won’t harm you!”
Huo Xiao Di’s words quieted Chang Hong Bi, but the sword in his hand betrayed his hesitation. He raised it only to lower it again, unable to bring himself to strike.
Even as Zhan Ri Fei writhed in pain from the effects of the “Old Friends at First Sight” poison, his gaze on Huo Xiao Di remained unchanged—piercing, as if he could see through everything. It was the kind of gaze that made Chang Hong Bi wish he could gouge out Zhan Ri Fei’s eyes.
Huo Xiao Di’s thoughts felt muddled, as though his head were too heavy. “Do you think just because your poison has flared up, I won’t kill you?”
— Even he didn’t understand why the thought of Zhan Ri Fei deceiving him hurt so much. He had only known Zhan Ri Fei for two days—a fleeting encounter, as ephemeral as strangers crossing paths. In the world of the martial arts, such meetings were commonplace and carried no weight.
Yet, despite his weakened state and the torment of the poison that seemed to cut through his very soul, Zhan Ri Fei’s lips curled faintly.
— It was a smile. A proud smile.
With a sharp “shing,” dirt scattered as the Yin Yang An was thrust firmly into the ground in front of Zhan Ri Fei.
“You heard me,” Huo Xiao Di said, his voice steady. “The people of Ling Long Manor do not kill the unarmed. The next time we meet, I won’t hold back. You’ve walked a path of treachery, and those who do so meet their end. Don’t let me catch you again, and don’t think about coming after this boy!”
As the last words left his lips, Huo Xiao Di sheathed his short sword and gripped Chang Hong Bi’s hand firmly. Without looking back, he strode out of the temple.
— Perhaps he feared that if he turned around, he would change his mind.
The mountain wind carried with it the endless scent of rain, and the occasional cry of a night bird filled the air like a mournful, chaotic song, unsettling the heart. Huo Xiao Di’s figure vanished into the night.
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