3 Distinguished Guest, Famous Dog (1/2)
Meng Fuyao interrupted his unceasing torrent. ”Stop talking about your family. Instead, talk about yourself.”
”I...” Yan Jingchen paused, melancholy settling onto his face. After a while, he said, ”Fuyao, my future wife will have considerable status in these lands in the future. Beauty and talent, both are indispensable. Imperatively, her aptitude cannot be lacking. Otherwise, it will bring shame on my family.”
”Talk about yourself!”
Meng Fuyao's yell provoked Yan Jingchen, unleashing the arrogance and fury of a son of noble upbringing. He cried out, ”I! I have had enough of you falling short of expectations and the mockery that I have endured because of you!”
Meng Fuyao took a step back, staring at Yan Jingchen, whose expression had become fierce and sinister, in a daze.
Twilight fell, its dull colors enveloping the entire land. The bright green of the leaves appeared to be covered with a layer of filth, stifling one's breath. The gentle youth, drifting in this gray backdrop, with his twisted features, appeared distant and unfamiliar.
The only sound left was that of the wind brushing against the edges of robes.
After a moment, Meng Fuyao suddenly laughed.
Her laughter resembled a flower blooming in the still and silent darkness. It carried a trace of sorrow but what was more apparent was a resolute, radiant smile.
”Good. Good.” She brushed her robe's sleeves in Yan Jingchen's direction as if she was brushing both him and the dust away simultaneously.
”I understand. You cannot tolerate your wife being an idiot with no talent in martial arts. An idiot whom you are ashamed to bring to state banquets where she would be ridiculed. You cannot tolerate that your flawless life as a son of nobility would be stained by a wife who is unworthy of your status. Yan Jingchen, believe me, Pei Yuan will be the perfect wife. The two of you will be just like a noble lady followed by a distinguished guest dog, raising your status a hundred times higher and complementing each other,” said Meng Fuyao indifferently.
She smiled without a trace of laughter in her eyes. Her voice was deep and cold, like the sharp edge of a sword waiting to be drawn to release its dazzling gleam.
”Congratulations, you have found your distinguished guest dog.” After completing her speech, Fuyao turned and walked away without sparing a glance at Yan Jingchen.
”Fuyao!” Abruptly, Yan Jingchen dashed towards her, grabbing her sleeve. He said in a low voice filled with helplessness, conflict, and pain, ”Fuyao, I like you!”
”Keep your love and use it to curry favor with your distinguished guest dog!” Fuyao gave a ghastly smile. Then, she lifted her fingers, and a ray of light materialized at her fingertips. She made a sweeping motion with her hand and chopped straight for the robe that was being grasped, releasing the light dangerously fast.
The sword of light had yet to arrive, but the chilliness was overpowering. Jingchen had thought that Fuyao would not be merciless towards him and continued to grasp tightly on her sleeve. However, Fuyao did not even hesitate, and her motion went straight towards his fingers.
Jingchen was scared out of his wits. He immediately withdrew his fingers, but, it was still too late. A neat, red scar appeared on his fingers. At first, it was as white as his skin but soon after fresh blood seeped out of the wound, dripping onto the dark ground silently.
”You...”
”I!” Meng Fuyao did not bother looking back. She stood with a straightened back, portraying an unyielding image in the surrounding darkness. ”I want you to remember, some mistakes, like your injury, are unnoticeable in the beginning. But as time goes by, you will bleed and suffer.”
She remained back-facing Yan Jingchen, with a light smile on her face, as cold as the new moon in the sky.
”Yan Jingchen, trust me. You will sooner or later suffer.”
The night was chillingly cold.
Fuyao sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the moon, lost in thought. In all her memories, it seemed like tonight's moon was the coldest. Its eerie light could chill one's heart.
The stars were shining strangely, unstable and unpredictable, just like the fickle human heart.
She vaguely recollected the day of their first encounter. It was a stormy day. Meng Fuyao had been knocking her head hard against the mud floor as she had been begging Master Lin Xuanyuan to accept her as a disciple. In the heavy wind, in front of the gate, a modest gentleman with a warm smile had been standing beside the Master. That day, the young man had extended his hand to her, slender and clean, warm as spring.
”Fuyao, actually, I like you.”
”Fuyao, in this world if you do not have power, you will be despised by others your entire life.”
”Fuyao, you need to strive your best. If you remain like this, what will become of you?”
”Fuyao, everything about you is good. Unfortunately, your talent is lacking.”
'I should have discovered it sooner. But I willingly immersed myself in the warmth that he provided, not realizing the truth.'
'Fortunately, I have never thought of becoming your distinguished guest dog.'
Meng Fuyao laughed sarcastically and waved her hands vigorously as if she was chasing away mosquitoes. She buried the thoughts that she never wanted to think of again to the back of her mind. Then, she closed her eyes and started to circulate her Qi.
A little while later, steam started to rise from the top of her head. Her whole body gave out a pale bluish green light, enveloping her. The light gradually traveled upwards, and eventually became stationary at her chest.
The Cleaving Nine Heavens technique was the secret martial arts that her real Teacher, the old Taoist priest, had forbidden her from imparting to others.
At that time, Meng Fuyao had excavated the tombs too aggressively, ending up traveling back in time. After time-traveling, she mysteriously lost the memories of this new world before the age of five. Since the age of five, she had been forced by an old Taoist priest to practice this martial art for 10 whole years.
The Cleaving Nine Heavens technique was divided into a total of nine levels. During those 10 years, she had only reached the pinnacle of the third level of this technique.
Currently, the ascending True Qi was being gathered and formed a bluish-green light, mainly attacking all the gentle Yin techniques.
As she practiced, the night and the afternoon with piercing sunlight passed. When Fuyao opened her eyes once again, it was already mid-afternoon.
After opening her eyes, Fuyao frowned and let out a sigh. She had been stagnant at the pinnacle of the third level for half a year, with no breakthrough. If this persisted, how could she participate in the True Martial Arts Meet? What ability would she have to make people suffer sooner or later?