Wandering Swordsman |

Shen Mo put on his outer robe and stepped out of the room. The night wind rushed towards him, carrying the damp, cold mist of the mountains, as if foreshadowing an approaching storm.

He walked along the cobblestone path, his steps unhurried, yet each step felt like a gentle touch on his heart.

Two guards stood solemnly at the entrance to the conference hall.

Shen Mo took a deep breath and resolutely walked in.

The flickering candlelight in the hall illuminated Situ Dengfeng's back as he stood with his hands behind his back. He stood before the landscape painting, like a solitary peak, silent and majestic.

"Could it be... that Situ Meng said something?" Shen Mo stared at Situ Dengfeng's figure, his heart pounding like a drum, his breath almost caught in his throat.

"Shen Mo, you're here." He didn't turn around, but his voice was like a deep, cold pool, calm yet containing immense power.

Shen Mo clasped his hands in a fist salute and bowed, saying, "Shen Mo of the Qingfeng Team greets the Alliance Leader."

When Situ Dengfeng slowly turned around, his gaze sharp but without anger, and said, "I have something that I need you to do," Shen Mo's tense nerves suddenly relaxed, as if he had been pulled back to reality from a bottomless cliff.

But it wasn't that at all...

He let out a silent sigh of relief, the heavy weight in his chest settling down. Then he gave a self-deprecating laugh: Could it be that I, too, have such a guilty conscience?

But as soon as the thought arose, Situ Meng's clear, spring-like eyes reappeared in his mind, causing Shen Mo's calm mind to tremble again.

He lowered his eyes, concealing the complex emotions within them, then raised his head, his expression returning to normal, calm and respectful.

"If the Alliance Leader has any orders, Shen Mo will do his utmost." He clasped his hands and bowed, his voice clear and melodious, like a mountain stream striking a rock.

Situ Dengfeng stared at him, his gaze as deep as an ancient well, seemingly trying to pierce through his skin and reach his soul. After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice low but undeniably authoritative:

"The evil cultivators from overseas have sent envoys to infiltrate the Central Plains, secretly contacting the eight great families, the nine sects and the gang, and even the four great academies... Their movements are secretive and their methods are insidious. Wherever they go, there may be unusual activity."

Shen Mo looked shocked and said in a low voice, "If this is allowed to continue, the martial arts world of the Central Plains may fall into internal strife."

"That's right." Situ Dengfeng turned around, his gaze as sharp as a knife. "After bringing the Qingfeng Team back from their mission, I want you to lead the team to secretly investigate who is colluding with them."

Shen Mo's heart stirred slightly, but he remained outwardly calm, simply cupping his hands and saying, "Alliance Leader's kindness is too much for me to refuse. However... this matter involves many things, and if we act rashly, we might alert the enemy."

"Therefore, this matter must be kept secret," Situ Dengfeng said in a deep voice. "No one else, except the curator and I, will know about this mission."

"Rest assured, Alliance Leader." He looked up, his gaze blazing like sparks. "I will definitely investigate thoroughly."

Situ Dengfeng nodded, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes, but then he suddenly lowered his voice: "There's one more thing... Meng'er has already told me about what happened to you at Qingcheng Mountain."

Situ Dengfeng's voice was deep, yet it struck Shen Mo like a thunderbolt.

Shen Mo's pupils suddenly contracted, and his back instantly straightened, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat. He abruptly looked up—in the candlelight, Situ Dengfeng's expression was complex, like ripples spreading across an ancient well after a stone had been thrown in: the barely perceptible wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were a father's pity for his daughter; while the sharp glint in his brows was the martial arts alliance leader's scrutiny of a potential threat.

Shen Mo's heart churned like a stormy sea. That night in the dense forest of Qingcheng Mountain, he used his inner energy as a guide to transfer it into Situ Meng's body; their skin touched, their breaths mingled... Though it was to save her life, it had already transgressed the bounds of propriety. He had originally thought that if Situ Dengfeng knew about this, Situ Dengfeng would surely see him as a madman who had defiled her purity and draw his sword against him. But now, the other party was so calm, even... with some deeper meaning?

"I know you are no ordinary person," Situ Dengfeng said slowly. "I only have this one daughter. You must treat her sincerely and not betray this affection. If you have other plans..."

He slightly moved his palm, and an invisible force surged from it. The candle flame on the table "poof" shrank, almost going out, leaving only a wisp of smoke rising, like a wandering soul. "Then, the martial arts world of the Central Plains will not tolerate you."

Shen Mo's expression remained unchanged, a slight smile playing on his lips, yet his smile was as thin as ice: "Alliance Leader, you are overthinking it. I, Shen Mo, have always had a clear conscience."

Upon hearing this, a hint of approval flashed in Situ Dengfeng's eyes, and he surprisingly smiled broadly, like the first rays of the winter sun breaking through the clouds: "Alright." He paused, his voice suddenly softening, "Go and prepare for this mission. After this matter is settled, I will personally officiate at your wedding with Meng'er."

"Marriage?" Shen Mo was struck dumb, his fingertips suddenly freezing. His mind went blank, as if the world had turned upside down.

He thought Situ Dengfeng would treat him coldly, but he never expected that this leader of the martial arts alliance who was in charge of the righteous path in the Central Plains would not only forgive him for causing Situ Meng to lose her innocence, but would also betroth his daughter to him.

His throat bobbed, and for a moment he forgot to speak, only feeling his fingertips were icy cold, while his palms were sweating.

Seeing him lost in thought, Situ Dengfeng's eyes flashed with understanding. He said gently, "I know about your affair with Murong Qing. Don't worry about the Murong family." He walked to the window, pushed it open halfway, and the night breeze rushed in, blowing the silver strands at his temples. "I will communicate with the Murong family about your marriage to Meng'er."

Shen Mo suddenly looked up, his eyes still filled with surprise and doubt.

"Don't worry." Situ Dengfeng waved his hand, his gaze as calm as a deep pool. "Murong Liang and I have been friends for many years. Since he has entrusted his granddaughter to you, he won't object to adding the daughter of the martial arts alliance leader as well." He paused, his voice low, "Meng'er's heart is with you. Since there is already a bond between you, how can I, as her father, refuse her wish?"

Outside the hall, the night wind rustled through the copper bells on the eaves, making them tinkle like celestial music. Shen Mo slowly loosened his clenched fist, the stinging pain in his fingertips reminding him that this was not a dream. His throat tightened slightly, and he finally bowed deeply, his voice somewhat hoarse: "Alliance Leader's kindness, Shen Mo...is deeply grateful."

"Go ahead," Situ Dengfeng waved his hand, his gaze gentle. "We'll discuss the marriage after your triumphant return."

Shen Mo turned around, his steps lighter than when he came. As he stepped out of the palace, he looked up at the night sky, where countless stars, like scattered diamonds, illuminated his eyes with a faint light.

Regarding the matter of Qingcheng Mountain, he originally thought he had to proceed cautiously step by step, but little did he know that Situ Dengfeng had already cleared away the fog for him.

......

Three days later, on the shores of the East China Sea, the twilight was as red as blood.

Where the sea meets the sky, a setting sun sinks into the waves, turning the entire sea into a furnace of dark gold and deep red. The sea breeze, carrying the salty and sulfurous scent, howls over the rugged reefs, emitting a low, mournful wail.

In the distance, a strange black mist suddenly surged up on the sea, thick as ink, rolling and refusing to dissipate, as if a giant beast had awakened from the abyss.