gnovel Chapter 199 The Mysterious Old Man
Chapter 199 The Mysterious Old Man
The night grew deeper.
In the corridor on the second floor of the inn, three figures clung to the door like ghosts.
The proprietress stood at the front, her pomegranate red dress losing its daytime gaudiness in the darkness, leaving only a cold, dark red.
Her eyes were fixed on the closed door, her pupils gleaming with a mixture of excitement and greed.
She's seen it all; what kind of man hasn't she met?
But there has never been a man who could make her feel so aroused at first sight.
And that demeanor, that composure in every gesture...
The proprietress's heart skipped a beat.
She absolutely had to have a man like that.
Use that whip to tame him little by little.
It caused him to fall from his lofty position to the dust.
In the end, only fear and submission remained in his deep eyes.
Thinking of those images, the proprietress's breathing quickened.
"Big sister," a burly man behind her whispered, "when do we make our move?"
The proprietress snapped out of her daze, the infatuation in her eyes fading, replaced by a cold glint.
"Wait a little longer," she said, "until they're fast asleep."
Just then—
"BOOM—!!!"
A thunderclap exploded overhead without warning!
The sound was so loud and so sudden, it was as if the sky had been torn open!
The proprietress trembled and instinctively took a half step back.
The two burly men were startled, one of them almost screamed, but the other covered his mouth tightly.
"Splash—"
The rain poured down.
The rain came so suddenly and so violently, as if the Milky Way had burst its banks, and millions of tons of water were pouring down in an instant.
The raindrops pounded on the roof tiles, making a dense and muffled "thump-thump" sound, like thousands of drums beating at the same time.
A fierce wind howled in, pouring in through the cracks in the window at the end of the corridor, causing the lanterns hanging in the corridor to sway violently, and the light and shadow to dance wildly on the walls.
The proprietress and the two burly men were caught off guard by the sudden wind and rain, their clothes fluttering wildly, and they could barely stand.
"W-What's going on?!"
A burly man wiped the rain from his face, looking up at the window with surprise and disbelief. "It was just a moment ago the sky was full of stars! How did it suddenly become..."
Before the words were even finished, another thunderclap exploded!
This time, the thunder was so close it seemed to be right next to their ears, making their ears ring and for a moment they couldn't hear anything at all.
A strong sense of unease welled up in the landlady's heart for no apparent reason.
wrong.
Something's not right.
The rain, the wind, the thunder...
It came too suddenly.
It suddenly seemed like...
It's like some kind of omen.
"Never mind that!" The proprietress suppressed her unease and whispered, "Quick, put on the sleeping potion!"
The two burly men snapped out of their daze and nodded hastily.
One of them pulled out a thin bamboo tube from his pocket. One end of the tube was sealed with wax, and it contained a specially made incense.
This is their most common tactic, and countless martial arts masters have fallen victim to this intoxicating fragrance.
He carefully walked to the door and gently poked a small hole in the window paper with his finger.
The movements were extremely light and slow, as if afraid of making any noise.
As soon as the hole was punched, he was about to put the bamboo tube in—
Just now.
A gray figure appeared silently at the end of the corridor.
There were no footsteps, no breath, no warning.
It just appeared out of thin air.
It was as if he had always been standing there.
It was as if he had been standing there from the very beginning.
The proprietress caught a glimpse of that figure out of the corner of her eye.
She turned her head abruptly.
The pupils suddenly contracted!
It's that old man!
The old man downstairs in the lobby who's always looking down at a book!
He was wearing an old gray Taoist robe, his hair and beard were gray, and his face was thin. He was standing there quietly, looking at them.
Those eyes gleamed with a dim light in the darkness.
The proprietress frowned, stared at the old man, a cold glint flashing in her eyes, and muttered in an annoyed tone:
"You old geezer, get the hell out of here! Want to die?"
The two burly men also realized what was happening, turned around in unison, put their hands on the hilts of their knives, and glared fiercely at the old man.
But the old man seemed not to have seen their menacing appearance.
He simply stood there quietly, his gaze sweeping over the three of them before finally settling on the proprietress's face.
His gaze was calm, so calm that it was completely undisturbed.
"You are murdering people for their money," he said.
The voice was old, yet exceptionally clear, reaching the three people's ears word for word despite the wind and rain.
The proprietress was taken aback.
Then she laughed, with undisguised sarcasm.
"Murder for money?"
She repeated, looking the old man up and down in his tattered gray robe, "Don't worry, you poor old man. Someone like you is perfectly safe."
She paused, her smile turning cold:
"I guarantee no one will try to steal your money or kill you."
Her gaze was fixed on the old man like a venomous snake, and she spoke slowly and deliberately:
"You just need to keep your mouth shut. Otherwise..."
She didn't finish her sentence, but the threat was all too clear.
The two burly men exchanged a glance, and one of them stepped forward, grinning maliciously:
"Big sister, why waste words with him? Just kill him! It's a one-hit wonder, what's the big deal?"
As he spoke, his hand was already on the hilt of the knife.
The proprietress glared at him.
"Shut up!" she whispered. "Do you want to alert the people inside?"
The burly man sheepishly withdrew his hand, not daring to say another word.
The proprietress looked at the old man again, a flash of murderous intent crossing her eyes, but ultimately she did not make a move.
She really wanted to kill him.
The old man's sudden appearance and the things he said clearly indicated that he wanted to ruin her plans.
But if we act now and make a noise that alerts the people in the room, all our efforts will be wasted.
It's not worth it for such a wretched old man.
"Old man,"
She softened her tone, speaking in a coaxing voice, like she was speaking to a child, "If you know what's good for you, leave now and pretend you didn't see anything. After daybreak, go about your business as usual. Let's keep to ourselves, okay?"
She spoke sincerely, even managing a slight smile.
But the old man only sighed softly.
The sigh was soft, yet it carried an indescribable sorrow.
"You can go," he said. "I don't blame you."
The proprietress was stunned.
The two burly men were also stunned.
The proprietress smiled too.
"What did you say?" she asked, thinking she had misheard.
The old man looked at her calmly and repeated:
"I said, you can leave. I don't blame you."
The proprietress's smile froze on her face.
We shouldn't blame them?
This old man is truly courting death!
She had originally intended to let him go, after all, the old man didn't seem like a powerful figure, and killing him would be a dirty trick.
But he's the one who's come to his death!
"You old fool," the landlady's voice turned completely cold, her murderous intent no longer concealed, "you're asking for trouble, aren't you?"
She waved her hand, her voice icy:
"Take this old man down. Remember, don't make a sound."
Excitement gleamed in the eyes of the two burly men, and they said in unison:
"yes!"
They drew short knives from their waists, the blades gleaming coldly in the darkness.
The two exchanged a glance, then silently flanked the old man from the left and right.
They are third-rank martial artists.
Although he's only a third-rank official, he's still powerful enough to roam freely in the martial world. Dealing with a half-buried old man would be a piece of cake, wouldn't it?
They were even debating whether to slit his throat or snap his neck.
In any case, we must not make any noise.
Then just break his neck.
Clean, neat, and without making a sound.
The burly man on the left made the first move. He pushed off with his feet and pounced on the old man like a ghost. His right hand, with its five fingers like hooks, aimed straight for the old man's throat!
He had practiced this move for over a decade, and countless people had died by this single strike.
But just as his fingers were about to touch the old man's throat—
The old man sighed.
The sigh was soft and faint, yet it resounded like a thunderclap in the big man's ears!
His movements suddenly froze!
It wasn't because of fear, nor because of hesitation.
Rather, it's because—
His hand was frozen in place.
They were frozen in mid-air by an invisible force.
The big man's eyes widened, his pupils filled with disbelief and terror!
He struggled desperately to pull his hand back, only to find that his hand was as if it had been cast into the void by molten iron, and he couldn't move an inch!
He tried to shout, but found that his throat was as if it were being choked by an invisible hand, and he couldn't make a sound!
We could only watch helplessly—
The old man moved.
He took out a long strip wrapped in old cloth from behind him.
The strip of cloth was washed until it was white, and the edges were frayed. After being wet by the rain, it clung tightly to the object inside.
The old man slowly unwrapped the cloth strip.
Inside was a sword case.
The sword case was entirely black, about two feet long, and had no decorations on its surface, only the mottled marks left by time.
The old man reached out and gently patted the sword box.
"Buzz—"
A very slight tremor.
The tremor rippled outwards from the center of the sword case like waves, carrying an indescribable rhythm, as if awakening something that had been dormant.
next moment--
The sword case was opened.
"Zheng—!!!"
Several streaks of silver light flew out from the sword box!
That wasn't sword light, that was a sword!
It is a real, tangible, and sharp sword!
Three swords flew out at the same time!
A long, slender sword with a straight spine and a blade as thin as a cicada's wing pierced the throat of the burly man on the left like a silver lightning bolt in the darkness!
The sword, with its broad blade and blunt, rounded tip, carried unparalleled impact, crashing into the chest of the burly man on the right like a falling meteor!
There was another sword, with a slender blade and a slightly upturned tip, like a venomous snake, silently slithering towards the proprietress!
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
It was so fast that no one had time to react.
It was so fast that there was no time to be afraid.
The burly man on the left felt a chill in his throat.
Immediately, a warm liquid gushed from his throat, like a flood bursting its banks, and he couldn't stop it.
He lowered his head, wanting to see what had happened.
But he can no longer see it.
Because his vision was rapidly blurring.
Darkness surged in from all directions, completely engulfing him.
His body slumped down.
"thump."
A muffled thud was drowned out by the sound of the torrential rain.
The burly man on the right didn't even feel the "coldness".
The thick sword pierced straight through his chest.
The sword pierced his chest and emerged from his back, carrying a cloud of blood mist that bloomed into a bewitching blood flower in the darkness.
His eyes were wide open, and his mouth was agape, as if he wanted to let out a final roar.
But before the sound could even escape his throat, his consciousness had already vanished.
His body fell straight down.
Another "thump".
It was swallowed up by the sound of rain.
The proprietress stood still, motionless.
It's not that I don't want to move, it's that I can't.
The slender longsword hovered three feet in front of her.
The tip of the sword was pointed directly at her brow.
The distance was no more than an arm's length.
The sword gleamed with a cold, eerie light, which, reflected in her eyes, made her see the color of death.
She could feel the chilling sword energy contained within the sword, like countless ice needles piercing her skin painfully.
Her legs began to go weak, her jaw started to chatter, her mind went blank, and all that remained was the instinctive fear screaming wildly.
will die.
Will die, die, die.
He will die in the next instant.
She didn't even dare to blink or breathe, fearing that the slightest movement would cause the sword to pierce her skull.
But the sword never pierced through.
It's not that the old man has become soft-hearted.
Rather, it's because—
A person appeared in front of her.
The man was wearing a moon-white robe that accentuated his tall and slender figure.
He just appeared out of thin air.
Did it come out of the room? Or from the other end of the corridor? The landlady didn't know.
All she saw was the man raise his hand and gently grasp the hilt of the sword that was floating in front of her.
The movement was so casual, as casual as picking a flower from one's own backyard.
But that flying sword, capable of taking a life in an instant, became as docile as a tamed pet in his hands, emitting a clear sword cry before falling silent.
The proprietress stiffly rolled her eyes to look at that face.
The moonlight had long been obscured by dark clouds, and only the lanterns, swaying violently in the wind, cast flickering light and shadow on that face.
But the proprietress saw through it.
It's him.
It was the young master she was about to make her move on.
That unfathomable young master who made her heart itch with desire.
At that moment, he stood right in front of her, no more than an arm's length away.
He held the sword in his hand; the blade gleamed with a cold, silvery light in the moonlight. The tip of the sword was still pointing in her direction, but because he held it, it no longer posed a threat.
The proprietress swallowed.
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, making his voice exceptionally clear in the silence.
Qin Mu gripped the sword and examined it closely.
The sword is long and slender, with a straight spine and a blade as thin as a cicada's wing, gleaming with a cold, silvery light under the moonlight.
Two ancient seal characters are engraved on the sword, their strokes vigorous and sharp.
"Autumn Water".
Fine sword.
Qin Mu lightly flicked the blade with his fingers.
"Buzz—"
A clear, resonant sword cry rang out, echoing through the corridor, drowning out the sounds of rain and wind, and soaring into the sky.
The sound of the sword carrying an indescribable joy seemed to be responding to his praise.
"Not bad," Qin Mu nodded, his tone full of sincere appreciation, "A fine sword."
He looked up at the figure in the gray Taoist robe at the end of the corridor.
The old man remained standing in the same spot, his aged face appearing remarkably calm amidst the wind and rain.
Only those eyes widened slightly for a moment.
For a fleeting moment, a hint of undisguised shock flashed in his eyes.