108 13 Years (1/2)

The wind stopped.

The gales came to an abrupt stop, and it was quiet all around.

Meng Fuyao looked at the sole she was holding onto and cursed, ”F*ck, should've used you sooner!”

The sole launched a sudden kick.

”Pah!”

Meng Fuyao flew backward and collided onto the fence, and she felt as though all bones in her body had shattered. She struggled to get to her feet, and sprouted in anger, ”How dare you kick me.” At that, she pounced forward.

The man, hair draping all over his face, opened his eyes suddenly, his gaze smashing toward her like a hammer. It was deep and open, like an endless whirlpool or black hole that carried an enormous amount of power, and it landed on her body, causing her to pause.

Of course, with her character, Meng Fuyao continued pouncing forward after pausing, eventually landing a hard punch in his tummy.

”For sneaking an attack! For grooming such a bullshit disciple!”

Meng Fuyao was certain that he was Fang Yimo, as no one else could have been as powerful to the point of weaponizing nature. Meeting on such a narrow path, with him immediately executing such a fatal move, there was no doubt that he had already recognized her. If that was the case, was there a reason for her to hesitate? The first to move would be at an advantage, and the last to move would suffer. It was a life and death battle.

She sprung forward, not giving him any chance to control the wind blade. With the '18 Vixen forms' she went at it with her head, hands, legs, and even mouth. At the same time, she even employed the style of Nine Cleaving Heavens. Her head was like an iron ball, and the hand she had reached out was prepared to dig his heart out. The kick was, of course, targeted at his precious eggs, while her mouth was aiming for his throat.

Meng Fuyao pounced with a ferocious and even deadly aura, but the man simply shut his eyes and exhaled.

She felt her vision turn black, as though a hammer had smashed her heart, or as though a kite with a broken string had flown.

'Mother… such a big difference… didn't I use to be the best fighter? How can a mouthful of wind kill me?'

Bang!

Same collision; same position.

'Crawl up again, attack once more.'

Bang!

A pool of blood had been formed on the ground, and Meng Fuyao took increasingly long to get up on her feet. Yet, as if numb, she continued staggering to her feet.

She carried her heavy feet, dragging them forward with each step.

'I choose to die in battle. Suicide is no longer a choice in this life!'

'Pounce!'

Bang!

Bang!

On the tenth time, Meng Fuyao wiped the blood on her mouth and got up slowly. After some struggling she swayed over, her vision was slightly scattered while her limbs had turned limp. As she moved the blood from her lips dripped. She crooked her head and simply wiped it off with the cloth over her shoulder before inching toward him with a malevolent smile.

Meng Fuyao saw black once more and instinctively waited for the punch to come from the impact, but nothing happened. The old man sat up and sized her up with a strange expression on his face. ”You've come, finally,” he stated after some time.

He looked all boney, but his voice was shockingly resounding. The few words buzzed in her ears, and she opened her eyes wide, stuttering, ”Ah? You… you knew I was coming?”

”I've been waiting for 13 years.”

”Ah?” she let out in surprise, saliva splattering everywhere. 'No way… he had already predicted all of these 13 years ago?' He had foreseen that she would seek him out for the antidote and that they would meet here in this jail?

Wasn't that f*cking godly?

”13 years ago I asked that old fellow what was going to happen if I died before my disciple, separated by a generation, appeared. He said I will meet you sooner or later if I waited here. Who would have expected the 'sooner or later' to turn into 13 years?”

'What is he talking about? Why can't I understand anything?'

”I was thinking last night that if you still do not appear, I would have to start killing,” he added. ”I have only a day left, and if you had not come, I would have lost a descendant and would have to kill the emperor of this nation.”

”Ah… for?” Meng Fuyao stammered. ”Why would you kill Zhangsun Wuji's father?”

”For not throwing the right person into jail,” he answered directly.

Meng Fuyao was speechless. After a long pause, she asked carefully, ”You… are not Fang Yimo?”