nashuaworldcup Chapter 509
Chapter 509
Dusk bathed the mountains and forests in a thick, inky black. Li Yanran leaned against a gnarled ancient pine, panting, the copy of "Qing Nang Xu Lu" in her arms digging painfully into her ribs. Days of travel had left her palms blistered and her clothes, stained with medicine, were stiff and matted. But when her fingertips touched the title page of the ancient book, her back straightened again. A mountain breeze swept withered leaves past her feet, and suddenly, the crisp sound of a cold blade being drawn pierced the deathly silence.
Twelve dark figures emerged ghostly from the bushes, their eyes gleaming eerily beneath their black iron masks. The leader, dressed in black, touched the curved sword at his waist; the cold light reflecting off the blade made Li Yanran's pupils shrink sharply. "Hand over the medical book, and I'll leave you with a whole corpse." Before the words were finished, three poisoned short blades flew past her ears, severing several strands of her hair. She spun to avoid them, and silver needles shot out from between her fingers, striking the black-clad man's wrist. He groaned and released his weapon, the poison smoldering on the withered leaves.
A chaotic battle erupted instantly. Li Yanran dodged and weaved amidst the flashing blades, her silver needles darting like cold stars, only to see more dark figures leap down from the treetops. Her back slammed heavily against a rock, a gash appearing on her left shoulder, warm blood dripping down her arm. Suddenly, a curved blade shot straight for her face. In the nick of time, she grabbed a rotten leaf from the ground and threw it at her enemy. Taking advantage of the moment his eyes closed, she precisely pierced his throat with a silver needle.
"Well done!" The leader of the men in black grinned, tossing out three bone-piercing nails. Li Yanran rolled to the side, her clothes ripped in three places, only to find herself surrounded by more men in black. Her strength was rapidly draining away with blood loss; her movements grew slower, and she had few silver needles left. Just as a longsword was about to pierce her chest, a clear, resonant sword cry suddenly echoed through the air—
The white-haired old man stood on withered vines, his green sword flashing with countless sword flowers. Wherever his sword energy passed, the men in black staggered backward. The old man's silver hair flew in the wind, his sword moves seemingly casual, yet he neutralized every attack without a trace. Li Yanran looked at that familiar figure, her eyes suddenly burning—half a month ago in the dilapidated temple, it was this very old man who gave her the jade pendant that could cure all poisons.
"Young lady, can you still hold on?" The old man's sword tip lifted the last man in black, and as he turned, the gust of wind from his robes carried the stench of blood. Li Yanran struggled to her feet, but nearly fell due to exhaustion, only to be caught by the old man. In the moonlight, the old man took out a jade bottle from his robes, from which poured out a wound medicine with a strange, pleasant fragrance: "This is Nine-Flower Jade Dew Ointment; apply it and it will be fine."
On the return journey, the old man's carriage creaked softly as it rolled over the gravel road. Li Yanran, gazing at the fleeting shadows of trees outside the window, finally asked the question that had been nagging at her: "Senior, why..." Before she could finish, the old man chuckled knowingly: "Your father and I were once close friends. The debt of gratitude he owed me, risking his life to protect you, must be repaid." He then handed her a yellowed military treatise. "Dongfang Wan'er keeps hundreds of elite warriors; this book might be of some help to you."
The outline of the capital city loomed faintly in the morning mist. Li Yanran clutched the "Continuation of the Medical Records" tightly in her arms. The distant tolling of the bell and drum towers startled a flock of crows. She knew this was only the true beginning—but as her fingertips traced the miraculous remedies and secret techniques recorded in the medical book, as the old man's swordplay and her father's dying words overlapped in her mind, her gaze hardened. In this battle against Dongfang Wan'er, she was no longer alone.
The morning mist had not yet dissipated when Li Yanran's carriage had already rolled across the bluestone streets of the capital. Gazing at the familiar vermilion city walls, she subconsciously pressed the corner of the two books in her arms—the edge of "The Sequel to the Qingnang Records" was digging into her heart, while the other volume, a military treatise given to her by the old man, was wrapped in oilcloth, its cool touch penetrating. The plaque of the medical clinic was faintly visible in the morning light, and the verdigris on the door knocker seemed to still retain the warmth of her father's palm.
"Miss!" The shop assistant, Afu, burst out of the carved wooden door, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. "Dongfang Wan'er's people came this morning, saying that three days from now at dusk, you need to bring your medical books to her residence for a 'banquet'." The teacup made a harsh scraping sound on the table. Li Yanran looked at the swaying bamboo shadows outside the window. She had long heard of Dongfang Wan'er's methods—three years ago, her father died mysteriously, and the clinic inexplicably caught fire. All the signs pointed to this woman who controlled half of the shops in the capital.
Three days later, the setting sun was like blood. The gilded plaque of the Dongfang Mansion gleamed coldly in the twilight, and the black iron masks of the gatekeepers reflected Li Yanran's figure. Passing through the winding corridor, the tinkling of jade pendants came from behind the Xiangfei bamboo curtains embroidered with gold thread. Dongfang Wan'er leaned against a rosewood couch, her nail-painted fingers playing with jade prayer beads: "Miss Li is certainly punctual." Her gaze swept over Li Yanran's waist, and she suddenly sneered, "I heard you went to great lengths to obtain the *Qing Nang Xu Lu*?"
“This medical book is the culmination of generations of the Li family’s efforts.” Li Yanran hugged the package to her chest, her fingertips touching the rough cloth of the military book. “Your father framed my father back then, and now he wants to forcibly seize his heirloom. Aren’t you afraid of retribution?” Before she finished speaking, the sandalwood table exploded with a bang, and dozens of black-clad assassins poured out from behind the screen, their gleaming scimitars weaving a web of death in the twilight.
Li Yan then took a half step back, using the fallen tables and chairs as cover. The military treatise unfolded in her palm, the four characters "Divide the troops to break the formation" appearing on the yellowed pages. She took a deep breath and suddenly shouted, "Three to the left, five to the right, cross-attack!" The assassins hesitated slightly, and in that brief moment, silver needles shot like meteors towards the leader's Quchi acupoint. In the chaos, she caught a glimpse of surprise in Dongfang Wan'er's eyes—these assassins were meticulously trained killing machines; no one had ever been able to see through their formation.
A blade grazed past her ear, and Li Yanran spun to avoid it, only to see more assassins closing in. Sweat mixed with blood blurred her vision; her arm already bore several cuts. At the critical moment, the cold light of the Qingfeng sword cleaved through the night! The old man stood on the eaves, and wherever his sword energy passed, the men in black fell to the ground. "Retreat to the Xun position!" The old man's voice pierced through the sounds of battle, and Li Yanran immediately understood, her silver needles aimed straight for her opponent's vital points.
Dongfang Wan'er's face turned from white to ashen, and she suddenly turned and fled into the secret passage. Li Yanran, clutching the blood-stained military treatise, gave chase. The instant she passed through the moon gate, a silver needle pierced her back with pinpoint accuracy. Dongfang Wan'er staggered and grabbed the white marble railing, her jade prayer beads scattering across the ground, gleaming eerily in the moonlight.