Chapter 44 - The Immortal Art Nad Science
The moonlight passed through the gaps in the leaves, printing one bright patch after another on the ground. Occasionally, a night wind would blow, and the leaves would rustle, the patches of light swaying along with them.
Occasionally, one could also hear the cawing of a night crow, adding a touch of gloom.
Thump, thump, thump…
Under the moonlight, three figures were running frantically through the jungle. These three were all martial artists of considerable strength. Their speed was very fast, their six legs frantically crisscrossing, like a gale sweeping across the ground. Their faces were twisted into a knot, deathly pale, as if they had seen a ghost. Heavy panting ca from their nostrils, and their eyes still held an irresolvable fear.
Their feet trampled on the fallen leaves, making a rustling sound.
"Third Brother..."
As if unable to bear the oppression of the silence, a man dressed as a porter broke the dead quiet.
"Big Brother, Second Brother, and Sixth Brother are all dead. What do we do? Do we still continue the mission?"
"Continue my ass! You don't want your life? That kid..."
The one called Third Brother was a middle-aged man, about thirty or forty years old, with a thin build and long legs, holding a bright silver curved saber. After Big Brother and Second Brother had both died, he had beco the backbone of the remaining three.
The image of his three brothers' deaths involuntarily appeared in his mind. His body shivered violently, and with a gulp, he said:
"That kid is not human."
Could he be so kind of demon or monster?
Otherwise, how could he use such sorcery?
"Then how do we explain ourselves to the Young Master when we go back?"
"Who said we're going back? If I had known we had to deal with a monster like this, you couldn't have paid to co."
Wife, children?
I can barely save my own life, how could I have the mind to care about them?
Just then, Third Brother's body suddenly ca to a screeching halt. He stood stock-still on the ground, his eyes staring coldly ahead. The Fourth and Fifth brothers beside him also stopped imdiately. At the sa ti, they looked up, and their hearts imdiately skipped a beat.
Dozens of ters away, there was a hazy figure standing on a treetop. Her body was like a willow catkin. As the night wind brushed past, the treetop swayed gently, and her slender body swayed along with it. A long white dress, glowing hazily under the moonlight.
The distance was a bit far, so they couldn't see the other person's appearance clearly, but the bizarre atmosphere cast a shadow over everyone's heart.
The Third Brother shouted sternly: "Who's there?"
The answer ca in the next mont.
Swish.
It was the cold glint of a sword's edge, like a teor tearing through the night sky.
The speed was so fast that it was difficult for the three martial artists to even capture it with their naked eyes. The cold glint had just appeared, and in the next breath, it was already right in front of them.
Shnk! Shnk!
Two figures seed to brush past each other. The next instant, two arms had already detached from their bodies and shot up into the sky. From where the shoulders were severed, fresh blood spurted.
The thick sll of blood began to spread in the dark night.
Ah!
The severe pain of having both arms severed made Third Brother uncontrollably let out a hoarse scream. His body, as if it had beco a maggot, writhed desperately. The spurting blood soaked the decaying fallen leaves.
Before Fourth Brother and Fifth Brother could react, that silver teor had already folded back. With another two shnk sounds, Third Brother's two legs were also severed at the roots.
This ti, they saw it.
They saw a sword two fingers wide.
An indescribable fear gnawed at their consciousness. This was not an existence they could fight against. Brotherly loyalty beca trash at this mont. Without the slightest hesitation, they accumulated internal force in their feet, and with a boom, the two figures shot out, one to the left and one to the right.
Only by doing this could one of them perhaps survive. As for who would be the one to survive? It depended on fate.
The wind blew from the other side of the forest. The woman in the long white dress stood quietly beside the Third Brother.
The woman's figure was slender and long. Her sword's edge was pointed down, and one by one, thick drops of blood fell from the tip, shattering. So fresh blood spurted from Third Brother, who had been turned into a 'human pig,' splashing onto the woman's skirt.
The pure white long dress was stained with dots of scarlet, like fresh, blooming plum blossoms.
So blood drops splattered onto her face. Her stunningly beautiful face exuded a demonic beauty, like a female ghost.
The next instant, the woman's fingers trembled slightly. The longsword, as if it had a spirit, let out a sharp cry like the long call of a phoenix, and trembled slightly. Her fine body spun along with the montum.
Shing! Shing!
Two beams of sword light shot out.
Destruction, shattering, disintegration, blood dyeing the long sky!
On the ground, Third Brother, whose four limbs had been severed, convulsed violently. His pupils reflected a deep terror.
Sword qi leaving the body... haha, sword qi, hahahaha, at least an Eighth-Rank martial artist.
Losing is not an injustice!
He desperately turned his head. What ca into view was a pretty face like that of a celestial fairy.
……
Yang Miaoqing?
Looking at the bank note in his hand, soaked in fresh blood, Song Yan's brow furrowed.
He didn't think it was Yang Shi who had arranged for people to kill him.
On one hand, Zhao Hu's counter-surveillance had already revealed that the person behind the scenes was Song Yun.
On the other hand, although Yang Shi wasn't smart, she wasn't so foolish as to leave behind such obvious evidence.
Song Yan smiled. Good heavens, deliberately framing his own birth mother. Seventh Brother is truly a great filial son.
Although he didn't know why Song Yun had done this, since he had such a piece of evidence, how could he not make good use of it?
Thinking this, Song Yan stood up and turned to look at Zhang Long and Zhao Hu. Who knows if it was his imagination, but these two people seed to have beco sowhat different. When his gaze passed over them, the two n's bodies instantly straightened, standing like javelins.
"Brother Zhao, Brother Zhang, thank you for your help just now," Song Yan said with a chuckle.
It was thanks to the two of them just now. If they hadn't blocked the flying ceramic and iron fragnts, he wouldn't have gotten off so lightly.
Although the distance was a bit far, and it was impossible for him to die, it would have hurt.
And, if he had been scratched by a rusty iron shard, the 'magic attack' of tetanus was no joke.
A martial artist's cultivation could make one strong and healthy, but there were so things that one was helpless against.
Zhang Long and Zhao Hu shook their heads at the sa ti.
"Young Master-in-law, please don't be like this. The two of us are just household guards of the Luo Mansion. How can we be worthy of being called 'Brother'..."
"If the Young Master-in-law doesn't mind, just calling us Old Zhao and Old Zhang is fine."
Song Yan was a little surprised. The change in these two's attitude was a bit too big, wasn't it? They were clearly very casual before. Could it be they were scared by the explosion just now?
Whether it was the making or the using of the hand grenade, Song Yan had not hidden anything from anyone. On one hand, he was in the Luo Mansion, and it would be impossible to hide it even if he wanted to. On the other hand, when testing the power of the hand grenade, he also needed bodyguards. Zhang Long and Zhao Hu perfectly fulfilled this duty. If by chance the hand grenade's power didn't satisfy him, the two of them were more than enough to take care of all the assassins and could also effectively avoid any accidents that might occur.
The matter proceeded very smoothly, except for the unforeseen possibility of psychological trauma. Muttering in his heart, Song Yan asked again:
"What rank are you two old brothers?"
"Sixth-Rank martial artists," Zhao Hu replied proudly.
Clearly, in this world, a Sixth-Rank martial artist was already considered a pretty good expert.
"Then with your strength, could you withstand that hand grenade just now?" Song Yan was a little curious.
He wanted to know what level the destructive power of the hand grenade was at, but he couldn't just go around finding people to experint on. After all, that would be a bit of a waste of lives.
The two exchanged a glance. Hand grenade? Could this be another na for the immortal art, Palm Thunder?
After a brief silence, they both shook their heads. In the end, it was Zhao Hu who spoke:
"If we were three steps away, we are confident we could dodge it. Even if we couldn't completely dodge it, we wouldn't lose our lives. But if we caught it in our hand like that person, we would also be blown to death."
He was quite satisfied with this answer.
This was, after all, only the first-generation product. Song Yan believed that as long as he continuously improved the purity of the gunpowder, as long as he continuously increased the amount of gunpowder, he could blow up Seventh-Rank, Eighth-Rank, Ninth-Rank, and even a Great Grandmaster. He couldn't hand-craft a nuclear bomb, but crafting an extra-large-yield explosive pack was no problem.
Up until this mont, Song Yan finally felt that his life had a slight guarantee.
He let out a breath and forcefully stretched his arms to relieve his slightly stiff limbs: "Let's go!"
"Where is the Young Master-in-law going? Ho?" Gu Banxia followed behind.
"To the Song family."
Song Yan waved the tattered bank note in his hand, his eyes narrowed to a slit.
This ti, he was definitely going to turn the place upside down. Of course, it was unrealistic to think he could completely crush Yang Miaoqing with just this one bank note, but implicating Song Zhen would be a piece of cake.
Although the initial target was Song Yun, switching to Song Zhen wasn't out of the question either.
At the very least, I have to cripple one of his legs.
"Young Master-in-law... what you used before, that was the legendary immortal art, Palm Thunder, right?"
Zhang Long, Zhao Hu, and even Gu Banxia, all their gazes fell on Song Yan.
"What Palm Thunder? That's a hand grenade. And it's not an immortal art, it's..."
He had wanted to explain, but for a mont, he didn't know how to. After thinking for a mont, Song Yan said:
"That's science."
Zhang Long and Zhao Hu nodded their heads continuously: "Mm-hmm, the immortal art nad science. We get it, we get it."
You understand jack shit.
Song Yan was a little speechless. But trying to explain the principles to these ancient people was indeed not an easy task. If he were dealing with a Daoist alchemist or the like, it might be a little easier, but of all people, it had to be Zhao Hu, whose head was full of muscles.
……
In the dark Ningping County, there were occasional lanterns from so of the large households, lonely illuminating the nearby grass, trees, and stone-paved roads.
Before he knew it, a magnificent, luxurious, and familiar mansion appeared before his eyes. Where else could it be but the Duke Song's mansion?
Although it was the middle of the night, the grand Duke's mansion naturally wouldn't be without servant boys on night watch. Perhaps because they were too tired, the two servant boys were drowsing.
Looking at the gate in front of him, Song Yan's eyes were cold and stern.
"Old Zhao, go knock on the gate."
"Rember to be a bit more arrogant."
"Don't tarnish the reputation of the Grand Princess's mansion."
He had co precisely to stir up trouble. Naturally, the bigger the commotion, the better.
Following the Young Master-in-law's command, Zhao Hu walked towards the Duke's mansion's main gate with a swagger.
The two gate-keeping servant boys were perhaps too tired; even when Zhao Hu had walked right up to them, they were still leaning against the doorposts, fast asleep.
Glancing at the vermilion gate in front of him, a ferocious grin appeared on Zhao Hu's face. He pursed his lips, and the next second, his right foot lifted.
Whoosh...
Bang!
A sound like muffled thunder suddenly exploded in the silent night.
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