Chapter 98: Into a Martial Arts Novel, Day 20

Chapter 98: The Twentieth Day of Traveling Through the Wuxia World

Hearing An Yi's words, Yan Yu's heart felt as if something had tightly twisted it, aching and tight.

He understood that An Yi was protecting him, and precisely because he understood, it only made it hurt more.

He looked at An Yi's face, a surge of impulse rushing through him, almost making him want to blurt out, "I don't care about those empty reputations," but in the end, his sect's teachings and responsibilities won out.

He lowered his head, hiding his inner conflict and sadness, his voice choked up: "...I understand. Brother An, take care."

He paused, then turned to look at Ling Fengyao, raised his clasped hands in a salute: "Brother Ling, take care."

With that, he hesitated no more. He turned and swung onto his horse in one fluid motion, shot one last lingering look at An Yi, and flicked the reins. The steed neighed and galloped back the way they came.

Not until Yan Yu disappeared from sight did Ling Fengyao let out a long sigh of relief, his whole demeanor relaxing.

He sidled over to An Yi, his eyes crinkling with a teasing glint that hid a hint of seriousness: "Finally gone. That kid's got ulterior motives, putting on that torn act before he left—annoying to watch."

An Yi shot him a brief glance but didn't respond.

Ling Fengyao laughed to himself: "But Ayi, what you said earlier was spot on! We're free and unfettered—who cares about righteous reputations or slander? Living life by our own rules, avenging wrongs with pleasure, that's the real deal! Who has the patience to get tangled up with those people..."

An Yi recalled something and suddenly curled his lips: "Is that so? Didn't you say before that I should hide my identity and travel the jianghu with you?"

Ling Fengyao: ...

He gave a wry laugh: "Ayi, good Ayi, spare me!"

He raised his finger, putting on a solemn expression: "I swear! I was just joking along back then, I never actually meant it!"

He paused: "Wanna hit me...?"

Before he could finish, his brows slightly furrowed, and his gaze sharpened as he swept toward the dense forest on the opposite bank of the stream.

Almost simultaneously, a faint whistle sounded!

A tiny bamboo tube, as deadly as a snake, flew silently toward them, aiming straight for An Yi!

Its speed was swift, its angle tricky—a clear mark of a skilled hand.

Ling Fengyao's expression changed, and he reached out to intercept, but saw An Yi casually lift his right hand without even turning his head. His index and middle fingers caught it cleanly in midair!

The bamboo tube, which had been shooting like a bullet, seemed frozen in place, stopping steadily between his two fingers, its tail still quivering.

The tube, sealed at both ends, clearly contained a message.

Ling Fengyao breathed a little easier, but then frowned, his expression turning cold: "Fuyi Sect's signal. They've got good noses, finding us here so quickly."

He clearly had no love for the Fuyi Sect.

An Yi's face didn't change. He crushed the tube with his fingertips, pulled out the scroll, and unrolled it.

There were only a few words on the paper, in a sharp, familiar handwriting—the handwriting he recognized as An Luyuan's:

"Urgent matter, return immediately."

No signature, no explanation, just those four commanding characters.

Ling Fengyao also saw those four characters. The ease in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a look of displeasure:

"Urgent? What could be so urgent? Probably tired of you being away so long, and those troublemakers in the sect can't keep it together, so they want to trick you into coming back to clean up their mess—or even spring a trap on you!"

"Or maybe they found out those sects are planning to unite and attack them, and they're calling you back for that?"

He clearly knew the internal strife of the Fuyi Sect well, his tone dripping with sarcasm and caution.

He looked at An Yi, his expression unusually serious: "Ayi, what do you think? Are you really going back?"

He didn't want An Yi to go back. It wasn't just about his own selfish feelings or love—the Fuyi Sect was truly a terrible place.

And An Yi now wasn't the same as that former Young Master who had committed countless evils. If he went back and really encountered a siege by the major sects, even with An Yi's martial prowess, he'd be dragged down unfairly by association!

An Yi's gaze fell on the paper. A wisp of extreme coldness passed through his fingertips, and the paper scroll instantly turned into fine white ice crystals, rustling down from between his fingers and dissipating in the wind.

He rubbed his pale fingertips together, his tone utterly flat, just saying: "What does that have to do with me?"

He was completely ignoring this urgent message from his sect.

Ling Fengyao was stunned for a moment, then a flash of delight burst in his eyes, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably rising: "Well said! Who cares about his damned sect's urgent business? That's nowhere near as important as our sightseeing!"

A heavy weight lifted from his heart, and he immediately regained his spirited demeanor: "So where to next? I've heard the crab roe soup dumplings in Gusu City are to die for, and the Biluochun tea from Dongting East Mountain..."

An Yi: ...

This guy had forgotten that their purpose was to find the *Youhuan Shu*, not to go sightseeing?

But it was fine like this. Stopping and going, enjoying the jianghu scenery, was also a great pleasure.

Ling Fengyao enthusiastically planned ahead, but then saw An Yi suddenly turn his gaze to him and ask, "You seem to know a lot about the internal affairs of the Fuyi Sect?"

Ling Fengyao raised an eyebrow, his smile somewhat meaningful: "When you wander the jianghu, you have to know more news, or you might die without even knowing how."

"Isn't that exactly how I met you?" he said with implication.

An Yi seemed not to catch the hidden meaning, and continued asking, "If I were to go back, what would you do?"

Ling Fengyao didn't hesitate for a second, answering decisively: "What's there to say? I'm going back with you!"

He leaned in, his voice low with a lazy rogue's grin, but his eyes were dead serious: "Whether it's a dragon's den or a tiger's lair, a mountain of blades or a sea of fire, someone has to have your back, right? What if those clueless jerks try to mess with you? Then who would I drink with?"

An Yi watched him quietly, then let out the faintest smile—so subtle it was like a ripple vanishing in water. But it made Ling Fengyao's heart skip a beat.

"Oh?" An Yi's tone was flat, with a barely perceptible hint of teasing: "Young Hero Ling is planning to abandon the righteous path and defect to my Fuyi Sect?"

Ling Fengyao sputtered at that, then burst out laughing, waving his hand nonchalantly: "Righteous path, demonic path—I've always done my own thing. I only follow the person, not some empty, fancy titles!"

He looked at An Yi, drawing out his words with a grin: "As for defecting... that's not impossible!"

He crossed his arms, stroking his chin as if in thought: "That depends on what position Ayi is willing to give me? Protector? Elder? Or..."

He deliberately paused, his eyes blinking, a suggestive smile playing on his lips: "...the Young Master's wife?"

The last four words came out almost like a whisper, but they burned through the air.

An Yi: ...

A bit cheesy.