Tang Lian flipped down to the lower floor, with Tang Fulku quickly giving chase. Tang Lian swung his long sleeve, scattering plum blossom needles across the ground, then leaped forward, darting away.
"Catch him," Tang Fulku commanded.
Over a dozen shadowy figures emerged from the darkness and pursued him.
"It seems the Tang Sect has already fallen under their control," Tang Lian muttered under his breath, dodging hidden weapons flying at him from the sides as he fled outward.
Tang Tianlu landed beside Tang Fulku. "If he escapes, word will spread. If the overseers hold us accountable, neither of us will survive."
"He won’t get away," Tang Fulku sneered. "The entire city is already our net. No matter how skilled Tang Lian is, he’s still just a half-grown boy. Do you really think he can turn the heavens upside down?"
In the courtyard of the Quiet Contemplation Teahouse.
Su Changhe had been drinking tea with Su Muyu when a dark figure flashed past. Su Changhe tapped his teacup thoughtfully. "This young man moves quite well for his age."
Soon after, several more shadows streaked by.
"Seems the city’s security isn’t great tonight—so lively after dark?" Su Changhe chuckled.
"I’ll take a look," Su Muyu said, slinging his paper umbrella over his back before leaping away.
The first shadow was naturally Tang Lian. Since childhood, he had been taken in by Tang Lingyue as his sole disciple, inheriting all his martial arts. His skills far surpassed those of his peers, but even so, evading so many pursuers was exhausting. After fleeing the city and running for nearly another hour, he reached Mount Yinlong—only to find over a dozen people already waiting for him at the mountain pass. Tang Lian halted. "So you deliberately led me here."
Several dark figures landed behind him as a young man stepped forward. "Tang Lian, there’s nowhere left to run."
"Tang Cheng, what conspiracy are you plotting? Why did you harm my master, Lingyue?" Tang Lian demanded.
Hidden in the shadows, Su Muyu frowned slightly. This is Tang Lingyue’s disciple. From his words, has Tang Lingyue been harmed by his own sect?
Tang Cheng smirked. "Your master is merely frozen. The Icy Moon Silkworm is a marvel, but it won’t take his life. Cooperate with us, and we’ll spare him."
Icy Moon Silkworm. Su Muyu was startled—this was the first he’d heard of it. To think a single artifact could subdue one of the Four Guardians, Tang Lingyue. He committed the name to memory, resolving to send word to Bai Hehuai and ask what exactly this "Icy Moon Silkworm" was.
Tang Lian tightened his grip on the Fingertip Blade and shook his head. "If my master knew I allied with the likes of you to save him, he would be disappointed in me."
"And if you let him die—would that not disappoint him?" Tang Cheng countered.
"Let him die?" Tang Lian frowned. "If you wanted to kill him, why wait until now? The Icy Moon Silkworm has already frozen him—it would be effortless."
"You’re clever," Tang Cheng said with a laugh. "But clever people don’t live long." With a wave of his hand, the dozen men behind Tang Lian drew short crossbows.
The Tang Sect’s divine crossbows—Nine Mechanisms.This is the simplest yet most straightforward hidden weapon of the Tang Sect. In fact, many within the sect don’t even consider the Nine-Layered Mechanism to be a true hidden weapon, as its usage is far too direct—there’s nothing “hidden” about it. Moreover, even the least talented disciples can master it with some training. Yet, its power is undeniable, surpassing even the military-grade Thousand-Mechanism Crossbows used by the Northern Li army.
Over a dozen Nine-Layered Mechanisms were now aimed at Tang Lian.
Few could evade a simultaneous volley from so many. At the very least, Tang Lian knew his past self would have had no chance.
Su Muyu rested his hand on the paper umbrella.
“Your last chance,” Tang Cheng said, twirling a sleeve arrow between his fingers.
Tang Lian’s hands were tucked into his sleeves, his back already drenched in cold sweat.
“You won’t dodge their volley,” Tang Cheng said grimly.
“I know. So I’ll strike first!” Tang Lian suddenly raised his head and flung his sleeves wide. “Myriad Trees Flying Blossoms!” Vermilion Arrows, Dragon Whisker Needles, Blood Butterfly Petals—countless hidden weapons shot from his sleeves. The Tang Sect disciples scattered, several struck down by the barrage. Tang Cheng deflected three Dragon Whisker Needles with a sweep of his sleeve and laughed. “Is this your Myriad Trees Flying Blossoms?”
Tang Lian swayed slightly, the momentum of his weapons faltering. In his current state, this incomplete version of the technique was the best he could muster—but it was enough to create an opening. His eyes sharpened, and he lunged forward.
Too young, Su Muyu sighed inwardly.
“Kill him!” Tang Cheng roared. The disciples who had dodged the Myriad Trees Flying Blossoms raised their Nine-Layered Mechanisms and fired. The bolts tore through the air with shrill screams. Tang Lian twisted and weaved, evading several, but one grazed his shoulder. He staggered and fell.
“Again!” Tang Cheng raised and dropped his right hand.
Another volley of bolts streaked toward Tang Lian.
He watched them come, then closed his eyes.
But a paper umbrella appeared before him, its surface spinning gently, sweeping every bolt aside. Su Muyu looked down at Tang Lian. “You’re Tang Lingyue’s disciple?”
“Who are you?” Tang Lian asked.
“You have a future shiniang,” Su Muyu said with a faint smile. “I’m her elder brother.”
Tang Lian froze, recalling the peerlessly beautiful woman standing beneath the moonlight.
“Run,” Su Muyu said sharply.
Snapping back to his senses, Tang Lian cupped his fists in salute and fled.
Su Muyu lifted his umbrella and leaped onto a tree branch, gazing down at the Tang Sect members below.
“You’re the Umbrella Ghost of Dark River?” Tang Cheng realized.
Su Muyu raised the umbrella overhead. “Is it about to rain?”
“Rain?” Tang Cheng blinked.
As if on cue, a light drizzle began to fall.
“Rumors say the Umbrella Ghost prefers killing in the rain,” a masked man emerged from the shadows, his voice laced with amusement. “But that’s not quite right. His sword intent is ‘Rain.’ So when he draws his blade, the skies weep.”Tang Cheng clenched his fists.
"Do you wish to see Umbrella Ghost draw his sword?" the masked man asked leisurely.
"If I recall correctly, the head of the Su Family is currently negotiating with the envoys," Tang Cheng said, raising his head.
"Do you wish to see Umbrella Ghost draw his sword?" The masked man repeated, his tone more forceful this time.
Tang Cheng took a deep breath and waved his hand. "Let's go."
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