Chapter 12: Too Late for Regrets

  "Master Meng, don't be too excessive. I know you have some connection with Grandmaster Leng, so I've already given in to you once and again. As it happens, my son is also a disciple of the Sword Hut, and has a relationship with you as well. Even if he did something wrong before, you've already beaten him and scolded him. I, Jiang, have come to plead with you and promised to accompany you for 30,000 taels of silver. In terms of emotions and reason, shouldn't you let him go? If you're really obstinate, then we'll go ask Grandmaster Leng to mediate..."

  Jiang Wudao said coldly, his words already beginning to be both soft and hard.

  "You think you can scare me with Lord Cold? You think I'm doing all this because of Lord Cold's influence? Haha!"

  Meng Xuan let out a cold laugh and said, "You must be mistaken, I don't have much of a relationship with Jianlu! What I'm going to do today doesn't require me to look at Leng Dashi's face, even if Leng Dashi came himself, I'm going to kill him... he can't stop me!"

  "What do you mean by this?"

  Jiang Yuechen sensed the faint murderous aura emanating from Meng Xuan's body, and was so frightened that his liver and gallbladder were about to split apart, trembling as he cried out.

  Jiang Wudao's face also changed color, and a bad premonition rose up in his heart.

  Meng Xuan smiled faintly and looked into Jiang Yuechen's eyes, saying: "In other words... I'm going to kill you, even if the Heavenly King himself came, it would be useless!"

  As they spoke, this sword seemed to be about to fall immediately.

  "Wait a moment, young master..."

  Suddenly, the black-whiskered swordsman following Jiang Wudao shouted loudly.

  "Oh?"

  "Who are you?" Meng Xuan looked at him and asked.

  The old man with a black beard let out a breath and said sternly: "I am Jingxuzi, the seventh disciple of Sword Hut!"

  "So it was Cold Master's disciple. This person is your disciple, what do you have to say?"

  Meng Xuan gave him a cold look.

  Jing Xuzi pondered for a moment and said: "You just mentioned that you don't have much fate with our Master?"

  Meng Xuan smiled and said, "That's right."

  Jing Xuzi gave a faint, almost imperceptible cold smile and said lightly: "Originally, I saw that Master respected you so much, and considering his old face, I couldn't be rude to you. But as a junior, having received Master's recognition, it's fine if you're arrogant. However, you don't even put Master's reputation in your eyes, saying that even if Master were here, he couldn't stop you..."

  He spoke in a drawn-out tone, his eyes gleaming with a cold light, and a hint of murderous intent escaped.

  "Considering the face of our master, I will spare your life for now. Put down your sword immediately and follow me to see our master. As for how you should be dealt with, naturally it's up to him to decide..."

  "Great..."

  Jiang Wudao's face lit up with great joy, and it was Jiang Yuechen. His eyes also shone with spirit.

  As expected, Jiang is old and spicy. As soon as Jing Xuzi opened his mouth, he did not deny the relationship between Leng Dashi and Meng Xuan, but he grasped a sentence from Meng Xuan, used verbal tricks to squeeze him, first put a hat of disrespect on Meng Xuan, and then use this excuse to take him down. In this way, even if it is said that Leng Dashi will be there, he will also have a protective sentiment for his teacher, even if he really hurt Meng Xuan, Leng Dashi can't say anything.

  "Haha, your words are so cunning, you're indeed a seasoned veteran..."

  Meng Xuan sneered: "What if I don't want to go?"

  "If you don't want to go, then this sword in my hand will be the answer..."

  Jing Xuzi sneered coldly and slowly drew out his long sword, standing still with the aura surrounding him, as a gust of wind suddenly rose from thin air.

  "The great master's high disciple, indeed has some skills..."

  Meng Xuan held a long sword in his hand, his face fearless, and said calmly: "Then let's see what you've got!"

  Jing Xuzi had yet to make a move, but the sword energy was already brewing to an extreme point, the cold wind was biting, and the killing intent was overflowing.

  Undoubtedly, when he strikes, it must be with unparalleled ferocity!

  However, Meng Xuan seemed calm and composed, facing such a master of swordsmanship with a relaxed expression.

  After all, the Xianmen's supreme status on the Tianyuan continent wasn't achieved by mere boasting. Meng Xuan had been cultivating in the Xianmen for seven years, and even if you didn't count his mastery of the Great Dao of Illness, his daily practice of swordsmanship and martial arts was far from ordinary. Now, although he hadn't yet broken through to the True Qi realm, his actual strength was already rare in the mortal world. Perhaps only a top master like Leng Daoshi or Chengdeng Daoshi could suppress him with sheer force, while Jingxuzi's cultivation, which could be considered top-notch in the mortal world, might not even intimidate him.

  Gradually, Jing Xuzi's sword energy had reached its peak and was about to burst out in a single sword strike.

  Just at this time...

  "Jing Xū, if you thrust this sword out, I'll cut off the hand that wields it!"

  Suddenly, a cold voice rang out, and at some point, several figures appeared in the courtyard of Baicao Garden.

  "Huh?"

  Jing Xuzi was shocked, and his war intent, which had been accumulating to its peak, suddenly dissipated into nothingness.

  As a master swordsman, Jing Xuzi has been cultivating an unstoppable fighting spirit since he was young. When he prepares to strike with his sword, even if Mount Tai were to collapse in front of him, he would not change his mind. There is only one person who can make him lose all his will to fight with just a single sentence.

  "Forgive me, Master..."

  Jing Xuzi suddenly turned around and bowed down to a short and thin old man.

  Jiang Wudao was also startled and turned around, only to see that the courtyard had unknowingly added four more figures. Among them were Liu Dajiangjun, who guarded Sifang City, Shuixi Niangniang from Qingqiuling, and Chengdeng Dashi from Dazhen Temple. The last person was short in stature but had an overwhelming presence, and it turned out to be the master of Jingxuzi, the ancestor of Jianlu, Cold Lingyu, also known as Cold Dashi, a living legend who had protected Sifang City for a hundred years with just one sword.

  "Master Leng... Master, I beg of you, save my son..."

  Jiang Wudao's reaction was swift and unexpected. He suddenly knelt down, wailing loudly, and even managed to squeeze out two tears from his eyes.

  "Master... Master save me..."

  Jiang Yuechen also knelt down in the inner hall, knocking his head heavily on the ground while shouting loudly.

  However, Leng Dashi didn't even glance at them, his face gloomy as he stared coldly at Jing Xuzi and said indifferently: "I haven't returned to Siling City in ten years, did you think I was dead? Yet you taught the sword art I taught you to this kind of good-for-nothing woman who kidnaps ordinary people?"

  This sentence undoubtedly shows his attitude.

  Jing Xuzi was so frightened that he hastily knelt down on the ground and cried out: "Disciple knows his mistake!"

  Jiang Wudao and Jiang Yuechen were both stunned, their faces pale.

  "Go back and meditate in seclusion," said Leng Daoshi calmly. "Don't use your sword again until you figure out its true purpose."

  "...Thank you, Master..."

  Jing Xuzi's mouth was bitter, knowing he had been sentenced to confinement. It could even be said that if his master didn't change his mind, he would never be able to use a sword again. He didn't dare argue, but couldn't help feeling puzzled - why was his master's punishment so severe? Even though Jiang Yuechen's actions had displeased his master greatly, he himself had acted to maintain his master's dignity, which should have been understandable...

  "Spare me, Master... Spare my life, Master..."

  Jiang Wudao was even more frightened, his body trembling like a leaf, kneeling on the ground, constantly kowtowing.

  Leng Daoshi gave him a cold glance and said in a chilly tone, "Hmph, when did my Sword Hut become a place for your Jiang family to bully the weak?"

  "I... I..."

  Jiang Wudao stuttered and stuttered, already at a loss for what to say in response.

  "Hmm!"

  Suddenly, a silver light flashed in Master Cold's hand, and a point of silver light flew out.

  With a "bang", Jiang Yuechen, who was desperately knocking his head in the inner hall, suddenly had an extra hole on his forehead. He didn't say a word and died instantly. Until his death, he still had an incredulous expression on his face, as if he couldn't understand why he couldn't be saved by his own father or master, just because he offended a discarded disciple of the immortal sect...

  "Son..."

  The river wails in sorrow, its cries tearing at the heart and lungs.

  If Meng Xuan had killed Jiang Yuechen, he would have gone all out to fight to the death, but it was Leng Dashi who took action, and his accumulated anger had been building up for a long time, yet he didn't dare.

  "This time, let's just forget it and not bring trouble to the Jiang family. But if you don't know how to repent and still want to make mistake after mistake... Hehe, I haven't drawn my sword in ten years, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how to kill people..." Leng Dashi said coldly, then walked towards Meng Xuan with a smile, saying: "Meng young friend, it's rare for us to meet, don't let this matter spoil the fun. Why don't we go back and continue drinking?"

  "The moon is still locked in the woodshed, I want to take her home first, and after this matter is over, I will personally come to thank you!"

  Meng Xuan shook his head and said that he would go to the firewood room to carry Qiao Yu'er, and then went straight back to the city.

  Several onlookers saw this and were all wide-eyed with confusion, no matter how they thought about it, they couldn't understand why Cold Master was being so polite to Meng Xuan.

  Jiang Wudao was even more overcome with regret, his face turning black as if he had been struck by a severe case of guilt.