In the courtyard, the stench of blood from the recent fight had not yet dissipated.

    The atmosphere between Wang Anfeng and the other person grew silent.

    Previously, Wang Anfeng had spent an unknown amount of effort in finding Meng Yuexue and Chuan Lian. But at this moment, he unexpectedly didn''t know what to say.

    The grandfather of the girl in front of him had once wanted to kill him to silence him, and her blood-related sect had perished because of him.

    Strictly speaking, the two of them were supposed to be sworn enemies deeply entwined in a vendetta.

    Meng Yuexue''s gaze fell to the side, and she sheathed her longsword back into the sword scabbard. She pursed her lips and said softly,

    "I''m going to see my senior brother. Do you want to come, Brother Wang?"

    Wang Anfeng nodded. Now, carrying the Mo Blade and dressed as a Jianghu martial artist, he once again spoke in that calm, young voice,

    "That is natural."

    Meng Yuexue nodded, took a step forward and started walking. Wang Anfeng, with the Mo Blade on his back, followed her. They walked for about several hundred meters in silence, solitary as though walking alone. Because the atmosphere was extremely awkward and oppressive, Wang Anfeng felt quite uncomfortable. He tried to relax and said softly with a laugh,

    "It''s been two years. I wonder how Brother Chuan is doing…"

    "I suppose there must be great changes."

    Meng Yuexue paused slightly in her steps, not turning back, just said softly,

    "No…"

    Wang Anfeng was slightly startled.

    "Senior brother has not changed much."

    ............

    Dressed in green clothes, tall and slender, his face somewhat naive, yet his eyes exceptionally clear. If talking about martial arts, he is hesitant, but if discussing medical theory and pharmacology, his eyes sparkle with focus and concentration, often producing remarkable insights.

    That was the image of Chuan Lian in Wang Anfeng''s memory.

    But the person he saw now had a withered face, dry, yellow hair, and eyes closed tight, lying on the bed with barely a breath, hardly alive. This image was entirely different from the spirited young man of Jianghu from two years ago.

    How could this be described as having "not changed much"?

    Shaken, Wang Anfeng quickly took two steps forward and placed his hand on Chuan Lian''s right wrist. As expected, his pulse was extremely obtuse and weak, nothing like that of a martial artist of Jianghu with significant cultivation. His frailty was even worse than that of an ordinary elderly man on his deathbed.

    Wang Anfeng''s brow furrowed, apparently not convinced.

    He breathed deeply and cycled his inner strength using the technique of Mixed Yuan Skill. The power flowed from his fingers, following Chuan Lian''s meridians in an effort to uncover the cause of this pseudo-death state. If it was due to some potent poison, then his Mixed Yuan Skill, which naturally countered many virulent toxins, might be useful.

    Meng Yuexue stood beside him, her gaze on the unsuspecting Wang Anfeng. Her right hand subconsciously tightened around the longsword, her thumb pressing on the sword hilt just enough to expose an inch of the sword edge.

    That sword edge was bitterly cold.

    Multiple faces appeared before her eyes.

    Her grandfather, her father, and everything she had seen and heard from the past.

    Every plant and stone in Pharmacist Valley.

    The waning light and rosy clouds she had seen from the highest stone, the endless flowing clouds that stretched for miles, creating a magnificent sea of clouds.

    She tightened her grip.

    On the palm holding the sword, through the skin no longer fair and delicate, one could see slightly bulging veins.

    When Wang Anfeng had first visited Pharmacist Valley, it had only taken a day for the massive structure of Pharmacist Valley to collapse and be destroyed. She was resolute in her belief that there was a connection.

    She deeply hated her grandfather who had strayed into the path of evil, leading to the destruction of their sect.

    But for the person before her, the nearly complete destroyer of her life, Wang Anfeng, even though she could restrain herself rationally, even though she knew the fault was not his, how could she not feel any hatred?

    She was not a hero.

    Nor was she a saint.

    She couldn''t achieve a coldly detached clarity of good and evil, nor could she simply let bygones be bygones with a smile.

    All she wanted was to be a slightly pampered girl, hoping that after facing numerous troubles together, her grandfather would take her hand and place it in her senior brother''s, then help him travel the world as doctors, collect extraordinary medical prescriptions, write a book and pass it down to future generations, and when old, choose a place to retire quietly.

    That was all.

    Now, grandfather has fallen into evil ways, and his death is unremarkable.

    The senior brother was poisoned and turned into a living dead.

    The scene she saw in her dream was now left with her alone, her hands drenched in blood, not that of a doctor saving lives.

    With these thoughts, how could she be willing?

    How could she let go?

    Meng Yuexue looked at Wang Anfeng, who had his back to her, dark thoughts swirling in her mind, her thumb lightly raised the cold sword edge—just a lift of her hand could stab the unsuspecting youth in front, could express the hatred suppressed in her heart for so long, yet after struggling for a moment, she ended up letting out a deep breath.

    Nearly stumbling, she took a half step back, her eyes regaining their calm, and gently placed the sword in her hand on the table beside her, a simple movement that seemed to take all her strength. Meng Yuexue weakly sat down in a nearby chair, tightened her grip on the medicine in her arms, and looked at Chuan Lian, who had his eyes tightly closed.

    A slight smile tugged at her lips, though her expression was full of self-mockery.

    Yes...

    Two years had passed, the only constant was the senior brother, who hadn''t changed much.

    Wang Anfeng, with his back to Meng Yuexue, opened his eyes, his gaze as serene as a lake, looking at Chuan Lian in front of him, he pursed his lips, withdrew his hand, and gently placed the latter''s emaciated hand back under the blanket, slowly standing up.

    Perhaps, Brother Chuan...

    Among us, perhaps truly only you have not changed at all.

    .........

    Meanwhile, in a small courtyard in this town. Experience new tales on My Virtual Library Empire Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    An elderly man dressed in blue sat leisurely on a bamboo chair, his expression indifferent, calculating the time needed to pursue the remnants of Pharmacist Valley. Suddenly, he heard the faint sound of rustling garments and his eyes brightened, assuming that the Martial Artists from Immortal Pavilion had returned.

    Turning his head, he saw several figures jumping over from the green wall, landing on the ground as if to finally relax, their faces all pale, gasping for air non-stop, and even a few seemed to have run too hastily, supporting themselves with their hands on either side, sitting on the ground, breathing heavily in an unseemly manner.

    This lack of respect for hierarchies caused the elder to pause slightly, his expression instantly turning stern, as if a cold wind had begun howling, coating the Martial Artists, already drenched in sweat from fear and running, with a layer of frost, leaving them in a rather sorry state.

    The woman felt a jolt in her heart, suddenly recalling a piece of news from the sect.

    It was said that in his youth, this elder had failed a mission and was demoted to being a ''pharmaceutical slave'' in the sect, enduring the torment of a thousand snakes biting his body for three years, during which he witnessed much disdain and scorn from his fellow sect members. Hence, although he was from a sect of Jianghu, he highly valued the rituals of respect and hierarchy.

    The actions of her and her peers had clearly touched this elder''s forbidden zone.

    Filled with a cold dread, almost instinctively, she knelt to the ground, bowed deeply, and said,

    "Subordinate has been disrespectful, please forgive me, Elder."

    Her reaction was quick, and before the elder could fully erupt, she had already bowed down, and as she was also a Seventh Rank steward disciple of the Immortal Pavilion, and there were elders behind her no less respected than this elder, he found it difficult to continue his outburst, so he merely snorted coldly, sitting back in his bamboo chair, yet still feeling unresolved, his brows furrowed, and he said,

    "What a mess you''ve made in capturing the remnants of Pharmacist Valley! "

    "Where is Zhu Xiao?"

    "Tell him to explain to me, is this what he calls ''Heavenly Nets Earthly Traps'', is this his assurance?!"

    The people from Immortal Pavilion had been frightened out of their wits by Wang Anfeng, fleeing for their lives, where could they have cared to recover Zhu Xiao''s body? Hearing this question, the woman''s heart sank, and, bowing again, she then raised her head, her face already pale, and said,

    "Just now, disciples indeed found the traces of that Pharmacist Valley remnant, his poison had already been completely consumed by the people of Jianghu, he was truly a fish in a barrel, easily captured..."

    The elder frowned and said coldly,

    "Good, where is he?"

    The woman''s face paled slightly, she lowered her head and said,

    "He, he has been rescued by someone."

    "Even senior brother Zhu Xiao died at that person''s hands."

    The elder''s expression changed drastically, he suddenly sat up, no longer indifferent.

    Zhu Xiao was highly regarded in the Immortal Pavilion, even though he was young, he had been sent on missions alone, and now, having died violently here, complications were bound to arise when he returned to the sect. Thoughts rapidly circling his mind, his brow furrowed deeply, he turned to the woman and asked harshly,

    "Who was that person?"

    The woman shook her head and said, "Disciple does not know."

    "All I know is that he wielded an unsheathed Mo Blade, appearing to be in his early twenties."

    "His actions and manners were all domineeringly fierce."

    PS: The third update…