Thriller Paradise Chapter 196: Cangling Debate of Swords (IV) - Novel Cool

Chapter 196: Cangling Debate of Swords (IV)

Chapter 196: Cangling Debate of Swords (IV)

Let’s shift focus elsewhere. Meanwhile, Hell Front’s party had passed the Ye Hai trial and continued along a narrow path. After walking for roughly half an hour, they reached the entrance of Cangling Village.

Throughout the journey, Feng Bu Jue had been analyzing the scenario’s dynamics and strategizing with his teammates on how to adapt.

Regarding Npc strength…based on the combat power of the earlier blue-robed elder, the martial artists in this world were undoubtedly formidable. If players engaged them in direct martial arts confrontations, they’d likely die multiple times over. However, players had their own advantages—skills and equipment, which belonged to the supernatural category in this world. Even experts at Ye Cheng or Xie San’s level would perish instantly if ambushed by firearms without prior preparation.

Still, Feng Bu Jue believed that avoiding conflicts with Npcs and concealing their player-exclusive advantages was the wisest approach—for now. This was a sleep mode-generated scenario, and the required time span might be extremely lengthy, meaning players could be stuck here for days.

Undoubtedly, the "duel" event was the key plot point. The scenario wouldn’t end before that duel occurred. Bai Dian mentioned the “duel scheduled for three days later,” a line explicitly shown in the opening CG. Players who noticed this clue would naturally factor it into their plans.

If they waited another two or three hours, dawn would arrive, officially marking Day One. The duel’s date was set for Day Three. Assuming Ye Cheng and Xie San planned a moon-watching duel around seven or eight PM on that day, there were roughly 65 hours left until then.

After exiting to non-sleep mode, Feng Bu Jue slept in the gaming pod and set his login time for twelve-ten. The preparation time before re-entry could be ignored—about two and a half minutes in real-world time.

Judging by this scenario’s timeline, if they aimed to complete it, they’d likely finish around seven AM the next morning. Without unexpected delays, this entire night would only accommodate this single scenario.

“So, to recap,” Feng Bu Jue finalized his instructions before reaching the village. “I’ll be the Broken Sword Teahouse warden, and you’re all my guests. Avoid conflicts whenever possible. If conflicts arise, don’t draw firearms unless absolutely necessary. Modern weapons are our ace. Once we use them and others witness it, we’ll lose the advantage of opponents charging headlong toward gun muzzles.”

As he spoke, a crumbling wall of wooden walkway and brickstone materialized ahead. The village entrance was strikingly primitive, built against a mountainside. Carved into it were three giant characters—“Cangling Village.”

The vertical inscription spanned from high above ground to eye level. Each character stretched three chi long—about a meter—and shoulder-width wide. Any martial artist could instantly tell these weren’t etched by chisels or blades but written in one swift breath using true qi, fingers as brushes.

The calligraphy radiated boldness and vigor, its aura majestic and profound. The unknown master who created this surpassed even the two legendary swordsmen set to duel. Naturally, these characters had been inscribed when Cangling Village was first founded. The master was long deceased, but his feat endured, leaving future generations in awe.

“Oh, so we’re here already?” Xiao Tan gazed at the village name under moonlight. “Strange. The description only mentioned a small village, yet they carved the name so ostentatiously. Feels pretty intense.”

“You think only the Water Curtain Cave of Huaguo Mountain deserves mountain carvings?” Feng Bu Jue joked.

Jibu Shao Ye interjected, puzzled, “I don’t know much about this… but these characters don’t look carved, do they? Maybe some swordsman slashed them with sword qi?”

“Hey, that’s possible!” Xiao Tan chimed in. “Maybe a spectator of the duel showed off here at the entrance to intimidate every martial artist entering the village!”

“No,” Si Yu calmly refuted, her words as sparse as ever.

Both turned to her, but she offered no explanation. Instead, she lightly brushed Feng Bu Jue’s shoulder with her hand back.

“What? Do you have social anxiety?” Feng Bu Jue asked.

Her icy gaze pierced him, her expression indifferent yet radiating an invisible oppressive aura. “No.”

Bei Ling, observing nearby, suddenly snickered.

“Fine, I’ll explain,” Feng Bu Jue shrugged, addressing Xiao Tan’s group. “These characters clearly predate this era. Notice the moss and cracks—these inscriptions are ancient. The carver might’ve even named the village itself. Hmm… Interesting. Perhaps the duel didn’t make Cangling Village extraordinary. Maybe the village’s hidden secrets birthed the duel.”

“Hey, someone over there’s already noticed us,” Bei Ling suddenly pointed toward the village entrance.

They turned and spotted a lone figure lying about thirty meters away.

As expected, Feng Bu Jue stepped forward first. His eloquence and quick reflexes made him the ideal negotiator with Npcs.

Crossing the worn threshold, the quintet officially entered Cangling Village. A System Prompt immediately appeared:

[Current task has been updated. Main quest updated.]

In the menu, the task [Enter Cangling Village] was now marked complete.

A new task displayed: [Investigate the truth behind the duel].

Seeing this, Feng Bu Jue mentally groaned, Hell!

For him, this task was far more troublesome than something like "Investigate the truth behind the malevolent spirit at the ruined temple north of the village." The "truth behind the duel" could be anything—possibly linked to the imperial court, the village’s spectral secrets, or even absurd theories like Ye Cheng being an extraterrestrial or Xie San and Ye Cheng secretly being sworn brothers…

Everyone knew a conspiracy lurked beneath the surface. But shifting the main quest from a concrete action to an open-ended mystery practically granted players complete freedom. What a pain!

As he pondered, Feng Bu Jue had already approached the figure sitting on the ground. At this distance, he could finally see clearly.

The figure was an old beggar, about Ye Hai's age, disheveled and wearing tattered rags. One hand clutched a meat bone, the other a gourd of wine. As he ate and drank, he raised his eyes to study Feng Bu Jue and his companions. When Feng Bu Jue drew closer, the beggar spoke, "These past days, many have come up this path, but I recognize every single one. Strange indeed—today, strangers appear. Hehe… How did you brats slip past that old ghost Ye Hai?"

"I'm his illegitimate son", Feng Bu Jue replied solemnly.

"Choke!" The beggar nearly drowned in his wine, coughing until tears streamed down his face. Gasping for breath, he stared wide-eyed. "What did you say?"

"Hehe… Just kidding the senior", Feng Bu Jue bowed. "This junior is Feng Bu Jue, head of the Broken Sword Tea House. These are my Friends, visiting the lodge."

"Never heard of it." The beggar waved a hand. "You seem polite enough, so take my advice—turn back. Don't wade into this muddy town."

Feng Bu Jue, of course, had no intention of leaving. With a courteous smile, he asked, "May I inquire the senior's honorable name?"

"Ah?" The beggar's face twisted with suspicion. "You don't know me?" He waved the wine gourd before Feng Bu Jue—a crimson-lacquered flask—and his right hand was missing a pinky.

Feng Bu Jue mused: Hong Qigong? Impossible… Hong’s gourd was huge, and he lost his index finger!

"Ah… My vision is poor, senior. You’re a reclusive sage—forgive my ignorance", Feng Bu Jue began, only to be cut off again.

"Hahahahaha!" The beggar roared. "You really don’t recognize me! Hahahaha!"

Naturally, this wasn’t Hong Qigong—but he was the current leader of the Beggars’ Sect. Known as the Beggars’ King, Meng Jiu, he’d famously lost a finger seven years ago in a duel against Xie San’s sword. Jianghu mystics had declared Meng’s fate bound to calamity, claiming that clash was destiny’s reckoning. The craziest claim? That nonsense gained popularity. After all, wouldn’t logic demand Xie San lose seven fingers instead?

As head of the largest sect in the world, Meng’s name was easy to remember, and the severed finger incident only cemented his fame. Rumors even spoke of beggars chopping off fingers to impersonate him for free meals.

"You’re either faking cluelessness or—" Meng suddenly gripped Feng Bu Jue’s wrist, pinching his pulse point. His previously dull eyes sharpened. "Hmph… You have no inner energy at all. How did you pass Ye Hai’s test? Speak! How did you get here? Found a secret path?"

Before he finished, a cold blade pressed against his throat.

Si Yu had reacted instantly when Meng moved, mistaking Feng Bu Jue’s predicament for a Flag-triggered attack. Drawing her Sealed Sainthood, she lunged forward, the blade’s chill glinting in an instant.

"Let go", she commanded, her voice sharp as shattered ice.

Meng feigned indifference, yet inwardly marveled—he’d never expected such speed. Had he been prepared, the sword wouldn’t have reached his neck.

This girl’s so young, yet her movement rivals even the famed ‘plum-blossom sword’ Lu Qingning. But… these people show no inner energy. Their breaths are ordinary. Even my sect’s lowest disciples, trained in Taizu Long Fist, wouldn’t be this mundane!

Of course, he knew nothing of "Players"—beings like Si Yu, whose physical condition alone granted speed without inner energy or martial arts. Her youth and cultivation skills were irrelevant.

Feng Bu Jue caught the flicker in Meng’s gaze. Smiling, he said, "Senior… let’s talk calmly. Release me first." He shot Si Yu a glance. After a pause, she withdrew the blade.

"Hmph… Interesting", Meng’s tone shifted, his eyes narrowing at Feng Bu Jue’s smile—now a sly, hidden dagger. "Seems I misjudged you… You don’t lack inner energy—you conceal it well."

Feng Bu Jue’s innate talent for observation and memory caught every nuance. "Fair enough", he chuckled. "Senior, though we’ve never met…" He let his gaze drop deliberately.

"A senior like you, who wears the title of 'old beggar' with pride, sporting such flamboyant hair and dashing attire… Even if you're not the sect leader, you must surely be an elder."

Though Meng didn’t grasp Feng Bu Jue’s full meaning, he nodded with a "Though baffled, I’m impressed" expression, setting down his wine and meat. Bowing formally, he declared, "This elder is Meng Jiu, Beggars’ Sect leader."

"Oh! Long admired! Greatly honored!" Feng Bu Jue gushed shamelessly. Even a fool would know he’d never heard of Meng before—how could he admire or apologize for ignorance?

Meng couldn’t retaliate. He’d underestimated Feng Bu Jue first. Besides, Feng’s words, though thinly veiled mockery, stayed superficially polite.

Meng now viewed him as formidable, for two reasons: First, Feng noticed Meng’s subtle shift to cross-legged posture—a stance to channel energy defensively, implying Feng understood martial arts at an elite level. Second, though the swordswoman Si Yu was merely "quasi-top-tier", someone her age reaching such skill suggested either innate mastery or advanced secret techniques. Yet she obeyed Feng Bu Jue—marking him as at least a top-tier expert, or perhaps her husband.

"I spoke rashly before", Meng began.

Feng Bu Jue interrupted, waving a hand. "Nonsense! My own ignorance, not your fault!"

Bei Ling whispered to Xiao Tan beside them, "Our lodge leader’s face is thicker than a wall. Not a single sincere word, yet so natural…"

Xiao Tan’s lips twitched. "You think this is thick-skinned? You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with…"

(End of Chapter)

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