Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

End of Chapter 131

In the darkness, he saw a light. Not the lights of the arena, but the light of a sword. That sword light emanated from his hand, illuminating the entire arena, illuminating Shen Wuxiu's face, illuminating two thousand pairs of shocked eyes. Then the sword light dissipated, leaving only himself in place.

He stood there, a gun embedded in his left shoulder, blood gushing out, but he did not fall. He stood straight, like a pine tree, rooted to the ring, unyielding to the wind and unbending under the weight of the snow.

He suddenly remembered something.

Yan Shisan once said, "A swordsman's sword is not something he holds in his hand, but something that resides in his heart."

His sword had already grown into his heart, stained with that blood.

When Sun Fan woke up, he found himself lying on a bed in the infirmary. There was a fluorescent light on the ceiling, and the light from the incandescent bulb was a bit dazzling. He squinted and tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes, but a sharp pain from his left shoulder made him gasp.

"Don't move." Feng Congyun's voice came from the side. "The gun has been removed, and the wound needs seventeen stitches. Fortunately, no bone was broken, but the muscle is severely torn and will take at least a month to heal."

Sun Fan turned his head and saw Feng Congyun sitting on a chair by the bed, holding a wine pot in his hand, but not drinking. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a mess like a bird's nest, and there was blood on his clothes—Sun Fan's blood.

"Teacher Feng, have you been here all this time?"

"Hmm." Feng Congyun took a swig of wine. "I'm afraid you'll die. If you die, no one will invite me for a drink."

Sun Fan smiled, which aggravated his wound, causing him to wince in pain.

Where is Shen Wulai?

'

"He's in this building too, in the next ward." Feng Congyun put down his wine jug. "Your sword strike didn't kill him, but it'll keep him in bed for a while. The chest wound isn't fatal, but it's deep. The doctor said he'll need at least two months to recover. He won't be able to participate in the year-end competition either."

Sun Fan remained silent for a while.

"Teacher Feng, my sword strike—"

"I know," Feng Congyun interrupted him. "You used your full strength. The backlash from that sword strike was much worse than the previous two."

He looked into Sun Fan's eyes: "The bloodshot in your eyes has intensified again. I've helped you circulate your internal energy, and the power of the Divine Illumination Scripture is slowly recovering, but I can't help you with the inner demons. You'll have to rely on yourself."

Sun Fan nodded.

There was a knock at the door, and Dong Dahai pushed it open, carrying a bowl of porridge. When he saw that Sun Fan was awake, his eyes immediately reddened, but he didn't say anything. He just placed the porridge on the bedside table and stood there like a gun.

"The sea," Sun Fan called to him.

"Um.

""

"Hmm." Dong Dahai's voice was a little hoarse. He placed the bowl of porridge on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Shen Wuxiu's gun—he had it delivered."

He pulled a spear from behind him. The shaft was jet black, the spearhead silver—it was Shen Wuxiu's Dragon Roar Spear. The dried bloodstains on the shaft were Sun Fan's blood. The spearhead gleamed coldly under the lamplight; the sharp edge that had once pierced Sun Fan's left shoulder now stood as still as an antique displayed in a museum.

"Who did he have deliver it to?" Sun Fan asked.

"His deputy," Dong Dahai said, looking down at the gun barrel in his hand, "said—'It's been returned to its rightful owner.'"

Sun Fan remained silent for a moment. "Return it to its rightful owner." These four words, spoken by Shen Wuxiu, carried considerable weight.

The Dragon Roar Spear was passed down from the Dong family ancestors. It was taken away by the Shen family decades ago. Now, Shen Wuxiu is returning it. It's not an admission of defeat, but a final settlement.

To end the decades-long feud between the Shen and Dong families, and to remove the thorn in his own heart. "You accepted it?" Sun Fan asked.

Dong Dahai nodded, leaned the gun against the edge of the bed, and rubbed his hands on his knees. His fingers were rough, with large knuckles, marks left by years of holding a gun. "Squad leader, I—" He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat seemed to be blocked by something, and he couldn't utter a word for a long time.

Sun Fan didn't urge him, but simply leaned against the pillow and waited quietly.

After a long silence, Dong Dahai finally spoke, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself. "I was only twelve when my father died. His junior apprentice brought me out and told me—'From now on, your surname is Dong. The Shen family is looking for you; you can't let them find you.' He changed my name to Dahai, saying it was an ordinary name, and no one would care."

He lowered his head, looking at his hands. "I've been hiding because I know the Dong family is no match for the Shen family now."

"Even if I come to the Dark Martial Arts Academy, it's still the same. Actually, it's ridiculous. I think the most dangerous place is actually the safest. If I'm right under Shen Wuxiu's nose, they might have a harder time finding me."

"I thought I would hide for a very long time."

He looked up at Sun Fan. "Until you came."

Sun Fan remained silent.

"I noticed you the first day you entered the Dark Martial Arts Academy." Dong Dahai's voice became somewhat hoarse. "It's not because you have talent, it's because you're different from the people here. Everyone here is desperately climbing up, stepping on others to get ahead, for resources, for fame, for survival."

"But you're different; you seem to still possess some purity."

Sun Fan remained silent.

He paused. "At that time, I thought, this person might be worth befriending."

A slight smile curved Sun Fan's lips. "So you gave me a Lesser Rejuvenation Pill."

"That wasn't really anything valuable I had," Dong Dahai said. "I thought at the time, if he came out of the secret realm alive, I would follow him. If he didn't, then so be it."

"And I made it out alive."

"So you made it out alive." Dong Dahai repeated, then suddenly smiled. Smiles were rare on that scarred face, and when he did smile, it was even uglier than when he didn't, but Sun Fan thought the smile was beautiful, as sincere as a child's.

"So you came with me."

"So I followed you." Dong Dahai nodded. "Not because you're good at fighting, but because you're a good person. In the Dark Martial Arts School, good people are rarer than geniuses."

The ward fell silent. The fluorescent lights hummed, and the wind outside rustled the tree branches. Sun Fan leaned against the pillows, staring at the light tubes on the ceiling, remaining silent for a long time.

"The sea," he finally spoke, "Shen Wuxiu returned the Dragon Roar Spear to you. What are your thoughts on this?"

Dong Dahai was silent for a moment, then reached out and touched the gun barrel leaning against the edge of the bed, running his hand from the tip to the tassel, and from the tassel to the barrel, inch by inch, as if confirming something. "I want to get back the second half of the Cloud Piercing Spear," he said, "to combine the Dragon Roar Spear and the Cloud Piercing Spear into the complete Dragon Roar Cloud Piercing Spear. Not for the Shen family, but for my father."

"Your dad?"

"When my father was alive, his greatest wish was to bring back the Dragon Roar Spear." Dong Dahai's voice was a little tight. "He said that the things belonging to the master should not fall into the hands of others. He said that once he brought back the Dragon Roar Spear, he would pass on the complete Dragon Roar Piercing Cloud Spear to me. He said that I would be the nineteenth generation successor."

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