Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 95 Mr. Fulong
On the covered bridge, Chu Ning stood under the eaves, gazing at the distant mountains.

The newly changed black robe fluttered in the wind, and the thunder patterns on the cuffs appeared and disappeared, like the blades waiting for the storm.

He slowly turned his head to look at Xie Mingli, who stood calmly beside him, and finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind for days:

"Mingli, recently... your Marquis Wu's mansion has been investigating my elder sister's whereabouts. Have you found anything?"

Xie Mingli, who had been standing quietly with a smile, suddenly became serious upon hearing this.

She shook her head gently, her voice filled with undisguised apology and exhaustion:

"The Marquis of Wu's mansion has mobilized all its intelligence networks, and even sent people deep into the town you described and the surrounding area within ten miles... but still cannot find any trace of Miss Chu Yun and Lei Wanjun."

She looked into Chu Ning's eyes and said earnestly:
"The town you mentioned is called 'Stone Bridge Town,' which is a transportation hub in the northern border with frequent comings and goings. But strangely, from the day you received the letter, all traces of 'Chu Yun' and 'Lei Wanjun' in the town seem to have been erased."

Chu Ning frowned, feeling as if her heart had been struck by a heavy hammer.

“Moreover…” Xie Mingli’s voice lowered, “we’re not the only ones investigating.”

She looked at him and said, word by word:

"According to reports from our spies, there are two other unidentified groups that are also secretly searching for your sister's whereabouts."

Chu Ning's heart trembled violently.

"Not just us?" he repeated in a low voice, a hint of coldness in his tone. "Who else?"

Xie Mingli slowly shook her head:
“One side appears to be a chamber of commerce, but they are ruthless and quick to investigate people, as if they are using a shell company to carry out their business; the other side has an even more secretive identity... We only intercepted one secret report, and the signature mark is very similar to some 'evil spirit' seal that has been lost for many years.”

A sudden storm raged in Chu Ning's heart.

"...The remnants of the Wang family?"

He recalled Wang Chongshan's terrifying secret technique of controlling the "Ice Blood Puppet" and the soul puppets made from living souls in the Qingyang Blood Sacrifice Array, and suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

"Do they still dare to take action?"

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist slowly, his palm trembling slightly.

He thought of the letter Lei Wanjun had given him the day before he set off for the prefectural city.

The envelope was antique and slightly yellowed, sealed with wax and bearing a dragon pattern. Lei Wanjun solemnly instructed him:
"If you encounter any insurmountable obstacles in the prefectural city, go to 'Fulong Residence' and find a man named 'Song Cang' and give him this letter."

At the time, he thought it was just a backup plan left by Lei Wanjun, but now it seems that it may be the key to dealing with the current hidden game.

He suddenly looked up at Xie Mingli: "Have you heard of 'Song Cang'?"

Xie Mingli hesitated for a moment, her eyes showing some doubt, but she quickly nodded.

“Of course I’ve heard of him.” Her voice was low and slow, as if recounting the past. “More than ten years ago, he was a very well-known name in the entire prefecture.”

"He was once the chief executioner of the Zhenwu Division, who used thunder and fire to intimidate all directions. At that time, there was a saying in the martial arts world: 'I would rather tread on a river of blood than provoke Song Cang.'"

"Later, he violated military regulations, was dismissed from his post and demoted to a commoner, and no one knows where he went."

"Rumors circulate that he's gone mad, while others say he actually possessed some ancient, incomplete art, which the court feared and thus 'tamed' him..."

Before she could finish speaking, Chu Ning had already taken the letter out of her sleeve, held it in her palm, and gently stroked the dragon-patterned seal.

“Whether he’s a madman or a commoner, it doesn’t matter.” Chu Ning’s eyes darkened. “As long as he can tell me where my sister is… even if he’s a madman, I’ll believe him.”

Xie Mingli stared at him, her eyes deep and unfathomable: "Are you really determined to go find him?"

Chu Ning nodded, and the lightning at his fingertips flashed and then disappeared.

“Although the Wang family has collapsed, its roots have not been completely eradicated.” He said in a low voice, “If I wait for news here, what I will get is... my sister’s corpse.”

He said nothing more, turned and strode out, his steps steady. The wind swept through the corridor, making his robes billow like thunder and his battle flags flutter.

……

Fulong Residence.

In the deepest part of the dark alley, where snow falls and no one is around, in a corner where even the lights dare not shine, a mottled teahouse stands quietly amidst the dust and smoke.

Chu Ning raised his hand and gently pushed, and the old wooden door opened silently without raising a speck of dust.

Inside, the stove fire was still burning, and the aroma of tea wafted through the air. Three candles of different lengths burned on the table, a method of counting hours.

Under the dim lamplight, an old man sat across the table, his plain robe neat and his hair slightly disheveled. The bamboo slips on the table were piled up like a small mountain.

A wolf-hair brush hangs in mid-air, as if it has just made its last stroke.

He didn't even raise his head, as if he already knew who the newcomer was, his tone as calm as aged wine:

"Who are you looking for?"

"Sir, are you Mr. Song Cang?"

“You arrived three days earlier than he expected.”

Amidst the deep aroma of tea, the figure bent over the desk slowly raised his head.

Under the lamplight, a face that was ordinary yet exuded an ancient charm was revealed. Three charred knife marks remained at the corners of his eyes, as if they were still unhealed burns from lightning, yet he felt no pain.

Inside Fulong Residence, the fire in the stove flickered faintly, and bamboo slips were piled up like a mountain.

"Lei Wanjun, the master of Benlei Martial Arts School in Qingyang County, asked me to come to Fulong Residence to find a gentleman named Song Cang. This is Master Lei's letter." Chu Ningjing stood calmly in front of the table, presenting the letter sealed with dragon patterns and wax with both hands, her expression composed.

Song Cang lightly touched the sealing wax with his fingertips, a strange light flashing in his eyes. Then he frowned slightly and muttered to himself, "Lei Wanjun... how come the person you found has such shallow cultivation?"

As he finished speaking, Song Cang slightly turned his palm, and an invisible force suddenly condensed, resembling neither wind nor thunder.

“Old sir…” Chu Ning’s pupils contracted slightly, his internal energy surged, and his muscles tensed, but he did not make the first move. He simply stood still and waited for the other party’s attack.

In a flash, Song Cang reached out with the speed of an eagle's claw, aiming straight for Chu Ning's throat. His moves were ruthless and skillful, his aura locked down, like a hawk swooping down on a rabbit, showing no mercy.

Chu Ning remained calm, slightly spun around to avoid the attack on his throat, and then reached out with his hand, his five fingers swirling like thunderbolts, casually patting Song Cang's wrist bone.

"Snapped!"

With a soft sound, Song Cang's wrist trembled slightly, as Chu Ning forcefully deflected his strength. A hint of surprise finally flashed in Song Cang's eyes. He snorted coldly, and lightning suddenly surged from his right palm, the energy transforming into a thunder-horned beast that roared and pounced.

"You can dodge one attack, let's see how many you can withstand!"

He struck out with his palm, and thunder roared like a tidal wave.

Chu Ning's eyes suddenly turned cold. His right arm trembled, and lightning patterns appeared under his sleeve. His muscles tensed like iron. He shifted his steps slightly and instantly met the attack with his palm.

"boom!"

The two bolts of lightning collided violently in mid-air, and the shockwaves swept out, causing the lights in the room to flicker and nearly go out.

Song Cang paused, his eyes narrowing slightly.

In this exchange of blows, he clearly sensed:
Chu Ning's body was filled with pure and powerful lightning energy, no less than that of a ninth-rank expert. Moreover, his physical body was strong, and lightning was generated in his bone marrow, so he had already begun to take the shape of a "lightning body".

"Good boy..."

Song Cang muttered to himself, the suspicion in his eyes gradually fading and turning into solemnity.

With a slight shift of his feet, his figure blurred and instantly transformed into several afterimages, intertwined with lightning, sealing off Chu Ning from all sides in an instant.

"Let's see how you break this formation!"

Song Cang's sleeves fluttered as he formed the "Thunder Illusion Eight Kill Formation".

Faced with the blockade, Chu Ning took a deep breath, a flash of lightning passing through the depths of his pupils, and the lightning mark between his brows quietly emitted a faint light.

The next moment, he tapped his toes, and his figure flashed like lightning, breaking through the afterimage at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, the thunderous energy soaring straight into the sky like smoke.

"Crack!"

With a crisp sound, Song Cang's illusory image shattered completely, leaving only his real body staggering back two steps, his face showing shock.

"Eighth-rank, mid-level?"

Song Cang gasped in shock, his heart filled with horror.

At such a young age, with such profound cultivation...

He had thought Chu Ning was barely at the ninth rank, but he never expected that the other party had already firmly established himself at the eighth rank.

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and was about to make another move when he suddenly saw Chu Ning gently raise his right hand.

Beneath the black robe, an old, broken, and rusty longsword was quietly drawn from its sheath.

The blade was dull and lifeless, but when the blade was fully drawn...

"boom--"

An immense and overwhelming surge of lightning energy suddenly erupted from the Broken Snow Blade.

The void trembled slightly, and the roof tiles creaked softly.

The entire Fulong Residence seemed to be instantly enveloped by an invisible thunder dragon, its oppressive force like the collapse of the heavens, extinguishing the furnace fire instantly and nearly extinguishing the lamplight as it swayed violently.

Song Cang's body trembled, his face filled with disbelief, and he cried out in shock:
"This is... Broken Snow? The Broken Snow Divine Blade of the Thunder Ancestor?"

His voice was almost trembling with ecstasy.

His eyes were fixed on the knife at Chu Ning's waist. It was mottled and rusty, seemingly inconspicuous, but the sharpness hidden beneath the blood and rust, like a newly formed lightning bolt, was unmistakable.

"Broken Snow!"

The founder of the Thunder Blade Sect, "Lei Ming," used a single strike to shatter five domains and sweep away the demon race, earning him the title of "Lord Lei Ming," a legendary divine weapon.

Three hundred years ago, he died in battle with Lei Ming in the Lei Sea, and has been missing ever since.

Chu Ning slowly stroked the spine of the blade with his right hand. Where the rust had peeled away, a thin line of silver light flickered, like a galaxy piercing the sky, as if waiting for its new master to reawaken the glory of the Thunder Sea.

Song Cang's chest heaved violently. He rushed to Chu Ning in a few steps, but then stopped abruptly.

"May I ask, young friend, how did you obtain this Broken Snow Sword?" His voice was low and urgent.

Chu Ning calmly replied, "Under the circumstances, only it was the right thing for me."

Song Cang closed his eyes, as if suppressing the turbulent emotions within him. After a moment, he threw his head back and laughed three times.

"Good! Good! Good!"

He said "good" three times in a row, each time carrying the grief and excitement that had been suppressed for many years.

He suddenly knelt down, slamming his palms heavily onto the ground with a thunderous sound:
"May the heroic spirits of the Thunder Blade Sect throughout the ages rest before you!"

"Today, the flame of inheritance will not be extinguished!"

"By the revered Ancestor Lei Ming!"

"Disciple Song Cang will not fail in his duty to guard this place!"

Upon seeing this, Chu Ning quickly stepped forward to help the white-bearded old man up.

"You are...Song Cang?"

He asked in a low voice, the lightning pattern between his brows trembling slightly, his arms secretly on guard.

The old man smiled slightly, his beard and hair fluttering, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable heaviness.

"Just call me Mr. Fulong."

After speaking, he swayed his wide sleeves lightly, his steps slow yet concealing a storm. With each step, his aura trembled slightly, like thunder surging forth. When he was still, he was calm, but when he moved, it shook the heavens.

Song Cang returned to his desk and picked up the letter that Lei Wanjun had personally sealed.

As he gently brushed his fingertips across the dark gold dragon-patterned seal, a complex emotion flickered in the old man's eyes—a mixture of joy, sorrow, and nostalgia.

(End of this chapter)