Chapter 63: The White-Haired Stranger and the Shadow of the Serpent Part 1

Another day of bitter fighting passed. The exhaustion on the spectators’ faces was plain to see, yet their eyes shone with a feverish intensity that surpassed the previous days.

The combatants now taking the stage were of a different caliber entirely. Compared to the early rounds, the gap was as vast as the distance between heaven and earth; these were all figures whose names carried weight in the martial world.

While those capable of actually answering a challenge were now few and far between, the crowd remained gathered around the Sword Trial Stage, showing no intention of dispersing. Even if they lacked the strength to fight, witnessing such duels was a rare privilege. Amidst the flash of blades and the hum of power, one might just find a moment of sudden enlightenment.

As the martial arts displayed on stage grew more exquisite, it signaled that the victor was drawing closer to the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower. No one knew whose hand would finally pluck the blossom from the Golden-Stone Heavy Sword.

Feng Yun’ai watched, lost in thought. She wondered how Feng Rong, trapped within the heavy sword, was faring. Seeing the flower bloom with increasingly brilliant colors, she knew in her heart that Feng Rong’s flesh and blood were likely being drained to their limit.

Sang Chencao grew weary of the spectacle. “The hour is late,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s about time Zhou Gui took the stage to cast her net.”

Feng Yun’ai nodded.

Looking across the gathered heroes, nearly all the top-tier experts had already fought. It was indeed time for Zhou Gui to make her move. Whether their suspicions were correct would be proven in this very moment.

Zhou Gui, however, sat as still as a mountain. she sipped her tea leisurely, showing no sign of haste, the image of absolute confidence.

Suddenly, Feng Yun’ai caught a whiff of a strange fragrance. It was different from the scent that had lingered on Feng Rong, yet it felt hauntingly familiar.

Where had she smelled this before?

Before she could place it, the person beside her spun around in a panic, looking utterly incredulous.

In that instant, Feng Yun’ai remembered. She had smelled this scent on Sang Chencao, and… beneath the Yellow Sand Cliff!

The thick medicinal aroma was enough to make one’s head swim. Its pungent, spicy undertone was far more concentrated than what she had smelled before, as if it could invade the nose and throat to pierce straight through the lungs.

Feng Yun’ai turned her head sharply, only to find herself staring into a face framed by silver hair.

The stranger wore a veiled hat, the front of which was slightly lifted.

Previously, Feng Yun’ai hadn’t been able to see clearly, but now she realized that although this person’s hair was white as snow, her face was remarkably beautiful and vibrant, showing not a single trace of age.

Feng Yun’ai had never seen Wen Lanxin before, but at this moment, she was almost certain—this had to be her.

Sang Chencao was also wearing a veiled hat, hiding her expression, but her absolute stillness and silence betrayed her shock.

It seemed the girl hadn’t lied; she truly hadn’t known that Wen Lanxin would come to Cloud City with a head full of white hair.

But how had Wen Lanxin’s hair turned white so suddenly?

A roar of cheers erupted in the distance, followed by a wave of hushed whispers. Everyone was struck with amazement.

After a resounding clash of blades, a figure stood firm with sword in hand, surveying the crowd below. “Is there anyone else willing to fight?”

It was Zhou Gui’s voice.

Feng Yun’ai’s pupils contracted. She wanted to signal to Sang Chencao, but her gaze was entirely occupied by the white-haired woman before her. For a moment, she couldn’t force a single word out.

Solitary Gall was still tucked in her arms. Should she give it to her or not?

The people around them were gasping in surprise. “I didn’t know Elder Zhou possessed such profound martial arts. We only knew Feng Rong’s swordsmanship was extraordinary… it seems we underestimated her.”

“Lower your voice,” another cautioned. “There is no Hantian Alliance anymore. Don’t mention Feng Rong. And Zhou Gui is no longer an Elder; she is the Acting Alliance Leader of the Dieshan Alliance!”

“Even the Snow-Strangle Sword was no match for her. Who else here can win?”

“It looks like the Golden-Wanderer Eternal Flower will fall into Zhou Gui’s hands. It’s only fitting for the Acting Alliance Leader.”

As the discussions ebbed and flowed around her, Feng Yun’ai continued to watch Wen Lanxin. Her stagnant heart suddenly gave a violent throb. Clenching her teeth, she pushed Solitary Gall forward.

Since Wen Lanxin was the owner of Solitary Gall, surely the sword’s master would recognize it at a glance, even wrapped tightly in cloth.

Wen Lanxin’s gaze was desolate, as vast and empty as a boundless sea. Her heart seemed to be drifting in those waters, with nowhere to anchor.

She didn’t take the sword immediately. Instead, she stared fixedly at Feng Yun’ai, as if looking through the white veil to meet Feng Yun’ai’s gray eyes.

That silent gaze possessed a soul-snatching power. It took a long time before Feng Yun’ai managed to squeeze out a single word: “Sword.”

Wen Lanxin showed neither anger nor a smile. She took Solitary Gall with a firm grip, but instead of stepping onto the stage, she thrust it directly into Sang Chencao’s arms.

Sang Chencao whipped off her veiled hat, her eyes wide with shock. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked coldly.

Wen Lanxin said nothing. Her tightly pressed lips didn’t move an inch. The veins on the hand holding the sword bulged; it was clear she was using every ounce of her will to force herself to hand the blade over.

Feng Yun’ai couldn’t help but wonder: Did Wen Lanxin’s hair turn white overnight because Feng Rong is gone?

Sang Chencao let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her eyes narrowing. “Why give it to me? And why have you ended up in such a pathetic state?”

Wen Lanxin’s lips finally moved. Her voice was raspy, sounding like the ancient, weathered stones of Listening Moon Town. “I taught you the sword. I always intended to pass Solitary Gall to you.”

The smirk on Sang Chencao’s face shattered like glass hitting the floor. The way she looked at Wen Lanxin became utterly cold and alien. “Are you really so desperate for an heir that you can’t find anyone else? Speaking of which, you still haven’t confessed why you taught me martial arts in the first place.”

“Feng Rong,” Wen Lanxin whispered, her voice trembling as if weeping blood.

It was because Feng Rong had raised a child. Wen Lanxin had wanted to raise one too; she wanted to feel everything Feng Rong had felt.

“Why are you here now? To seek revenge for Feng Rong?” Sang Chencao asked with a mocking smile.

Wen Lanxin finally showed her exhaustion. “It is not convenient for me to reveal myself,” she rasped. “Whatever you want to do, go do it.”

Sang Chencao’s tone was playful yet biting. “Feng Rong dies, and you turn into this? Did you scream yourself hoarse before realizing everything was beyond saving? I truly look down on you. Years ago, you abandoned the sword for Feng Rong. Now, because of her, you look like neither human nor ghost. Is there anyone more foolish than you in this world?”

Wen Lanxin’s pupils shifted. Out of the corner of her eye, her gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on the Sword Trial Stage.