Legend of Fuyao 152 Untitled

But she clashed right into another person.

A strong, elegant scent of a peony wafted into her nose, and her forehead came into contact with a soft and smooth silk clothing.

Life was indeed full of coincidences.

While Meng Fuyao was still buried in that aromatic hug, she did not even raise her head and immediately stabbed towards that person.

A black beam of light shone and immediately disappeared.

Simultaneously, a mouthful of blood was spat out, and the blood flew away in the darkness of the night.

Pei Yuan held her ribcage and staggered backward, her red clothes dyed with a large patch of blood.

However, Meng Fuyao shook her head in pity. 'Sh*t, Pei Yuan's skills have indeed improved. Even under such unexpected circumstances, she could still twist her body and avoid her vital parts from getting injured. What a waste of my dagger,' she thought.

Even so, she did not stop. She leaped, stepped on Pei Yuan's head and dashed past the backyard, escaping as she flipped over the wall.

The series of actions - jumping up, battling Mist, attacking Yan Jingchen, escaping from the cellar, running away after she did not manage to kill Pei Yuan - were so fast that it seemed as though they happened simultaneously. Within a few blinks of an eye, she had already dashed away from the residence of Prince Heng.

Once Meng Fuyao was out, she zoomed like a flash of light, through a few dark alleys, towards the noisy places where residents gathered.

The alleys were pitch-black, and the space was narrow. Meng Fuyao's clothes brushed past the wind, continuously dashing through the darkness and fog of the night.

Just a distance away, the central street that was busy all day and night could be seen. As long as she reached that area, no matter how perverted Mist was, he could not possibly kill her on the streets.

However, the fog in front of her seemed to have thickened.

Rather than fog, it was more apt to call it smoke. A thick, drifting, yellowish-grey smoke.

Meng Fuyao stopped in her tracks and turned towards another direction. Yet that unwavering smoke still lingered everywhere.

Mist had managed to catch up with her.

Meng Fuyao had been injured by him before and knew how peculiar his martial arts was. It was probably the type that could silently lock one's veins, so she dared not to remain still like how she had done when conversing with Yan Jingchen. Instead, she continuously dashed in all directions, her inner energy ballooning and flowing through her body, trying to find a point that she could break through in the ever-present smoke.

Mist's voice appeared from the layers of smoke, though it was hard to determine how far away he was.

"Kiddo, you're not bad," he said. "You have the inner energy of both Gale and Moon Soul, and even some superior martial arts skills that I cannot tell… who exactly is your teacher?"

"Why should I tell you?" Meng Fuyao smiled and retorted. "I'm not your mum, I'm not obliged to answer your questions."

The layer of smoke shook for a moment, resembling how one's breathing would thicken out of anger. Meng Fuyao's eyes brightened, and she immediately bolted forward.

A while ago, she had already realized that Mist's smoke was controlled by his breathing so angering him was the only way to find his weakness. As such, she had been behaving as evil as she could. Anyway, the old guy had never intended to let her live.

While Meng Fuyao was still in mid-air, her dagger neared the hole that previously appeared in the curtain of smoke, and she gave a violent stab!

"You're cunning!" shouted Mist as the smoke dissipated, revealing his figure. The old man waved his sleeve, and a strong gust of wind rolled towards Meng Fuyao, sweeping her off her feet and causing her to instantly glide three feet away.

While she glided, it felt like she was stepping on moonlight and riding on the wind. She drifted backward like floating clouds and rushing streams, and oblivious to the wall behind her, she banged right into it. With a loud crash, a huge hole emerged in the wall, and Meng Fuyao's figure fell right through it.

Behind the hole were starry lights and flowy curtains. In the romantic atmosphere beneath a red tent, a pair of lovers were shocked by the sudden midnight intrusion.

It was obviously a wild pair of lovers.

With a look back, Meng Fuyao saw the nude couple screaming and scrambling onto their feet on the bed. Her eyes specially darted around some important body parts and swiftly scanned her surroundings, quickly confirming that she had landed in a brothel. She could not help but smile. "My apologies, please continue." Digging out a pill and throwing it over, she added, "I hope you're not too shocked by me that you can't continue? Here's a gift to strengthen your stamina as a form of consolation."

Then she looked up, grinned at Mist who had just followed in and bounced away immediately.

Meng Fuyao did not stop retreating, banging past bead curtains, room doors, railings, and the main hall. Where she passed by, the beads of the curtains scattered, the room doors crumbled, the railings gave way, and the vases broke. Amid the tumultuous chaos, there were voices of people screaming, of people shouting to avoid the wreckage, and of the large crowd of bystanders from the opposite street enquiring to ask what was happening. In an instant, chaos erupted in the main street of Heaven Demon, resembling a hot pot of boiling porridge.

It was exactly the effect that Meng Fuyao wanted.

After crossing paths with some of the top ten martial arts wielders, she could somehow figure out where the essence of their skills came from. They were all able to control elements of nature and blend in nature's forces with their own skills, forming a unique and natural inner energy belonging to that of an expert. Because of that, when they were placed in a suitable environment, their strikes would become more effective. For example, for Mist, his skills operated the best during the time before sunset, when the fog would rise from the forests. That was why she unknowingly fell into his trap during the day.

In other words, in a place far from nature where the air was contaminated, and lights shone brightly, Mist's skills would be limited.

A brothel was even better, an unexpected surprise for her.

Meng Fuyao laughed arrogantly and continued bashing her way around, leading Mist who had been closely tailing her into the noisiest part of town. Meanwhile, Mist was truly furious. He would chase her until his death, and would definitely use his palm to kill this obnoxious woman. Though he vaguely detected a few black figures that suddenly appeared behind him, those people's skills were nothing to him. No matter what, he had to kill this lunatic woman first!

At that moment, the night had just arrived, and there were shadows of people everywhere. In the brightly-lit town, crowds of people flooded by, including the drunk martial arts wielders who have just participated in the True Martial Arts Meet. Their jaws were agape as they saw Meng Fuyao who ran by like lightning, shocked at her speed and strength. Then, they saw the yellow-clothed old man who followed closely, and the knowledgeable ones immediately exclaimed, "It's Mist!"

Suddenly, there was a wave of commotion, and everyone was in shock. The top ten wielders were like gods to the people of the Five Regions Continent. Even the famous and high-status Sects did not get to easily meet these characters who were immortalized by the common men, much less a normal person on the streets. Now one of them, Mist, suddenly appeared in a brothel in Heaven Demon's town and he was chasing after a random lad. Judging by his looks, was he trying to kill the lad?

Everyone propped up their chins and tilted their heads, watching Meng Fuyao's figure roll and dash past like a black tornado, and Mist's figure closely chasing after her like a concentrated line of grey smoke. They looked at this battle of the experts that could not have happened but somehow did in town, and they all fell into a daze.

But Meng Fuyao suddenly turned back.

She retreated so quickly and turned back even faster. In an instant, she had already stopped her violent momentum and was not restricted by the friction of her motion at all. With a raise of her hands, she packed a pair of strong punches towards Mist!

Punches forward! The strong wind would rise, and the current would destroy!

The fist neared before the wielder did, and as the punch cut through the wind, the wind raged. With a loud bang, the lanterns and their tassels in the main hall had been forcefully swept by the violent and sharp wind, shooting up vertically towards the ceiling. The scriptures and drawings on the walls were rolled up while pictures of beauties were distorted, turning into pictures of old hags. A brave brothel visitor some distance away wanted to see what was going on, and he was so engrossed that he forgot to drink the cup of tea in his hands. Without any warning, he felt scorching heat on his face - the tea had spilled out and splashed on his face.

Meng Fuyao's punch was right in front of Mist's chest!

Mist gave a smirk and extended his withered hand, which held a very elegant fan. With a sweep, a cloud of smoke billowed out, and Meng Fuyao's punch was blocked at a one-centimeter distance away.

Twitching the corner of his lips, Mist wanted to say something along the lines of "to be able to force me to use my weapon, you have not wasted your life", but Meng Fuyao suddenly raised her head and smiled.

Seeing her expression, Mist's heart thumped, and his instinct told him that something was not right. This kiddo was up to no good, so if she smiled, something bad would definitely happen. With quick reflexes, he was about to sweep his fan, but Meng Fuyao's fist that was blocked by the fan suddenly flicked out a segment of a dark blade!

The blade was black, but the surface was bright as snow, and the gleam of it resembled moonlight. It arrived from the raging seas, descended from the firmament, and in an instant, it shone tens of thousands of miles away!

Just moments ago, the punch was already right in front of Mist's body. As such, the blade that flew out from the punch immediately cut through the fan and silently stabbed into Mist's chest!

Mist retreated hurriedly, but there were low shouts of "Gather!" that appeared from behind him. Then, a huge force appeared, and like a steel wall, it stopped his retreating motion.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a few black-clothed men lining up vertically behind him. Everyone's palm was placed on the back of the person in front of him. The one at the front of the line had palms of steel and delivered a blow towards Mist, forcefully pushing him into Meng Fuyao's dagger.

Furious that a legendary expert like him was cornered by mere juniors, he resolutely decided to stop retreating. Keeping his fan, Mist gave a strong sweep.

The smoke resembled the furious tide hitting against the shore, cascading in waves and encompassing endless anger, and rolled towards Meng Fuyao.

But the moonlight was like a silver needle that assembled the spirits and gathered the souls, shooting past the wide but thin layer of smoke in a straight line.

When smoke met moonlight—blood splattered!

The light-grey smoke and pale white moonlight were two distinct forces that clashed together. At their intersection point, two bright red spots of blood silently ruptured. Under the illuminated setting, the color was bright and creepy.

Both people were sent flying in opposite directions due to the clash.

On one side, blood spattered from Mist's chest. Meng Fuyao's strike was so violent that it managed to injure his heart channels.

On the other side, Meng Fuyao stuck the dagger on the ground and used it to support her weight. She was panting very heavily like a dead dog, and for every exhalation, she would puke out a few drops of blood.

'Sh*t, an ultimate strike from the old pervert was not fun at all. My bones are all going to collapse,' she thought.

As she squatted on the ground, bystanders started to crowd around her, trying to discern who was this teenage martial arts expert who was able to fight on the same level as a top ten wielder.

Meanwhile, two people walked up quickly. One of them did not speak a word. He wielded his sword, which had a chilly effect on anyone who stood within a ten-feet radius, causing people to step back in fear. The other had his hands to his back, and he seemed to walk slowly in peace. However, anyone who stood within three feet of him would feel strangely uncomfortable, and that also caused the bystanders to retreat.

Chapter end