章 19: Cultivator, Spiritual Pressure (Seeking Collection)
The rain fell softly.
The rain curtain covered the sky, creating a hazy atmosphere.
Inside the narrow alley, rainwater splashed and created high water sprays on the green bricks.
Yue held an umbrella, her foxy face filled with astonishment.
Ni Yu also widened his eyes slightly, his mouth forming a round shape, as he looked at the handsome man in the straw raincoat and bamboo hat ahead.
This man...
How dare he say such things?
The young master has such a small-mindedness, this guy... is in big trouble!
Lu Fan narrowed his eyes, and the rainwater dripped along the umbrella's edge like a curtain of beads. In Lu Fan's eyes, Han Lianxiao's smiling face was filled with a sense of haziness.
Lu Fan burst into laughter.
He lightly clapped his hands.
"Well, I'm just a scholar with a leg disability. I only know how to write poems and admire flowers and ask about willows."
"It's extravagant for you to give me face."
These words made Han Lianxiao raise an eyebrow slightly.
They say that Lu Changkong's son has a bad temper because of his leg disability, but now it seems... the rumors are not entirely true.
Look at his temperament... it's quite good.
"Since Young Master Lu is so self-aware, then please step back."
Han Lianxiao gently swayed the wooden flute and smiled gently.
His voice was gentle, but as his words came to an end, they gradually became chilling.
Nie Changqing trembled as he stood up unsteadily.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his face was somewhat pale from being washed by the rain.
"Young Master Lu... thank you for coming to save us."
"However, this matter is my own grudge. It's not beneficial for Young Master Lu to get involved."
"But... I beg Young Master Lu to take my son away. He is just a child, he is innocent."
Nie Changqing's voice trembled.
Lu Fan leaned against the wheelchair, one hand supporting his chin and the other lightly tapping on the damp woolen blanket.
The alley was narrow and cramped, just like the gloomy sky.
"Junior Brother Nie, you are really making it difficult for Young Master Lu. The command from above is for me to bring you and Shuang'er back, especially Shuang'er. Our superior is very concerned about him."
Han Lianxiao plucked off the raindrops on the wooden flute and said with a smile.
His tone was obscure, but it was filled with an irresistible dominance.
Nie Changqing's face immediately turned red, glaring angrily at Han Lianxiao.
No wonder Han Lianxiao appeared now, it turns out it's for Nie Shuang.
"Crack!"
Suddenly...
Lu Fan, sitting in the wheelchair, slapped his palm onto the wheelchair armrest.
In the rainy alley, it sounded like a thunderclap.
Ni Yu was startled.
Yue's heart tightened, while Ning Zhao, who was in front, gently raised the Cicada Wing Sword. Qi and spiritual energy began to surge as her silk dress fluttered and her black hair danced.
Lu Fan lifted his hand and rubbed his eye corner.
"A father's love is profound and earth-shattering. It reminds me of my kind-hearted father waiting for me to come home for dinner," Lu Fan said.
"The tree desires tranquility, but the wind does not cease. Parents desire to raise their children, but relatives do not wait."
Lu Fan lowered his head, his eyes filled with a sense of melancholy.
Then...
Lu Fan raised his head and looked at Han Lianxiao.
"I almost forgot to ask which faction you are from. In Beiluo City, it's quite audacious of you not to give this young master face."
Lu Fan said.
His voice echoed in the narrow and cramped alley.
Han Lianxiao frowned, staring at Lu Fan. For some reason, he suddenly felt the atmosphere in the alley becoming somewhat chilling.
Being stared at by Lu Fan, Han Lianxiao inexplicably felt a chill in his heart.
He clenched the wooden flute, and the chill in his heart seemed to evaporate like steam from a furnace.
"A song called 'Tide Ballad,' Han Lianxiao, the ninth disciple of the Daoist Sect."
"I come from the various schools of thoughts... the Daoist Sect."
Han Lianxiao said.
Snap!
However...
Just as Han Lianxiao's words fell, Lu Fan slapped the armrest of the wheelchair again.
"D*mn it!"
"Why didn't you say that earlier!"
"Looking at your appearance, I thought you were one of the Golden and Silver Confucian Guards sent by the Imperial Teacher of the Imperial Capital to attack Old Nie. Scared the sh*t out of me," Lu Fan said.
"The Daoist Sect? What kind of thing is that... In Beiluo City, you are not worthy of not giving face to this young master."
Lu Fan leaned back on the wheelchair, sneering at Han Lianxiao.
The atmosphere suddenly became quiet.
Nie Changqing looked at Lu Fan in astonishment.
Although I don't know if Lu Fan really doesn't know that Han Lianxiao comes from Daozong, or if he's pretending not to know.
But no matter what...
This person... his performance of bullying the weak and fearing the strong is too real.
There was a hint of a smile on Yi Yue's foxy face, while Ni Yu rolled her eyes. As expected, he's still the same arrogant person...
Ning Zhao gently raised her sword, and water droplets fell from the tip of the sword, pointing directly at Han Lianxiao.
The gentle smile on Han Lianxiao's face gradually disappeared.
He stared at Lu Fan, seemingly not understanding why Lu Fan was so arrogant and arrogant.
What qualifies him?
Just because of this newly appointed servant girl?
"Master Lu, what do you mean?"
Han Lianxiao's tone was cold and annoyed.
"Noisy."
Lu Fan waved his hand.
"Ning Jie, deal with him."
Hmm...
As Lu Fan's words fell, the sound of the sword immediately resounded. Ning Zhao moved, and the two strands of spiritual energy within her Qi Dan suddenly surged, like a furnace burning.
The rain curtain seemed to be cut open.
The sword light was like lightning cutting through the dark night, directly aiming at Han Lianxiao.
Rainwater continued to fall from Han Lianxiao's hat, but he ignored Ning Zhao and just stared straight at Lu Fan.
"It seems that being a master to a servant is quite an extraordinary feat for Master Lu Changkong."
"This servant girl does have some skills to press down four masters under Beiluo City..."
The gloominess on Han Lianxiao's face disappeared, replaced by a smile as refreshing as a spring breeze.
He slowly lifted up the wooden flute in his hand.
"Master Lu... you are not a master yourself, so you might misunderstand the power of masters. You are even more clueless about the mysteries and strength of the various masters of the Hundred Schools of Thought."
"As for you, this servant girl, although your Qi and blood are strange, it cannot be the capital for your arrogance and recklessness."
Snap.
Han Lianxiao's wooden flute was suddenly thrown out.
And it collided with Ning Zhao's sword tip.
In the next moment, Ning Zhao's heart trembled and her pupils contracted.
The wooden flute suddenly split into multiple pieces.
At the point of collision, dense wooden splinters entangled around the sword tip, wrapping around every joint of Ning Zhao's body and completely immobilizing her.
Ning Zhao's umbrella fell, and the rain soaked her body.
"Compared to battle experience, you are just a servant girl who is only a single sound master... still far from enough."
Han Lianxiao said indifferently.
He carried himself with his hands on his back, ignoring the completely restrained Ning Zhao.
A single sound master like Ning Zhao couldn't break free from the specially crafted mechanism wooden flute lock in a short time.
As he took a step, the rainwater splashed up two feet.
His gaze locked onto Lu Fan, and step by step, he walked towards him. He was arrogant, indifferent, and seemed to be high above, like a divine judge determining Lu Fan's life and death.
Nie Changqing raised his pig-killing knife.
However, Han Lianxiao's blood and qi trembled, and with a casual palm strike, he sent Nie Changqing's pig-killing knife flying high into the air.
Han Lianxiao ignored Nie Changqing, who had become useless.
His tendons were picked and his blood stagnated.
The once great master swordsman had fallen to a level lower than a first-class warrior.
He wasn't even worth Han Lianxiao's attention.
As Han Lianxiao walked and smiled.
"Heavy rain, narrow alley, pitch-dark night."
"Perfect timing, favorable location, with people."
"With such perfect conditions, if I were to kill you, neither the gods nor the ghosts would know."
"If I don't kill you, it would be an insult to heaven."
Han Lianxiao's tone became increasingly chilling, and in the end, it was filled with a murderous intent that filled the heavens.
"Let me introduce myself again, Han Lianxiao, the ninth in the Daozong, a five-sound master."
Bang!
Han Lianxiao suddenly stomped his foot.
The accumulated water surged seven feet high, like pouring rain.
Yi Yue's expression changed drastically. She grabbed the long whip at her waist and stood in front of Lu Fan.
However...
Han Lianxiao struck out with a palm, hitting the raindrops, and countless drops of rain hit Yi Yue, causing her to spit blood and fly backwards.
Since he had made up his mind to kill Lu Fan.
Han Lianxiao didn't hesitate anymore.
He was a person of the martial world, while Lu Fan was the son of the city lord of Beiluo City, a person of the court.
Once he made his move, there would be no turning back for him.
He couldn't leave behind any traces or evidence.
Although the current Da Zhou was in chaos, the Confucian national teacher was still there, and the deterrence of Da Zhou against the hundred schools of thought still remained!
"Die!"
Han Lianxiao stared directly at Lu Fan, who sat on the wheelchair with red lips and white teeth.
In his eyes, Lu Fan was truly pitiful. With his crippled legs, he couldn't even escape in the face of death.
A low roar came from Han Lianxiao's throat.
He struck out with a palm, shattering the falling raindrops. His fingertips were like knives, aiming to swipe across Lu Fan's neck.
On the wheelchair.
Lu Fan frowned as he felt the wind and rain slashing at him. The rain soaked his clothes, and Ni Yu tightly held onto the oil-paper umbrella, trembling.
But in the end, she didn't retreat.
She looked at the terrifying and ferocious Han Lianxiao.
Lu Fan exhaled and slowly closed his eyes.
Ning Zhao's defeat was unexpected to him, but he still had some cards up his sleeve.
He could continue to supply spiritual energy to Ning Zhao, but...
This time, Lu Fan chose not to do so.
With a thought.
He exchanged 5 points for the Soul Strength of Panel No. 65.
One point of Soul Strength could refine 10 strands of Qi.
In an instant.
Lu Fan's spiritual energy surged from 0 strands to 50 strands.
After the exchange was completed.
Lu Fan suddenly opened his eyes.
He stared directly at Han Lianxiao, his gaze indifferent, cold, and merciless.
His Qi Dan was like a furnace.
And his mind was like a flowing stream. Lu Fan used the "Ten Thousand Laws Furnace" technique modified by Nie Changqing to practice the Daozong's Spirit Cultivation Technique.
In the next moment.
Lu Fan felt the boiling of the furnace-like Qi Dan within him, as if the 50 strands of spiritual energy were surging.
On the wheelchair.
Lu Fan sat quietly.
Around his body, the 50 strands of faint blue spiritual energy flowed and intertwined, constantly crisscrossing.
Boom!
A majestic and towering pressure suddenly pressed down.
Han Lianxiao, who charged forward, immediately knelt down in the flooded alley with a "thump" under the pressure.
The immense pressure made it difficult for him to raise his head.
His face was pressed tightly against the cold ground, with water splashes jumping in the air.
He was completely immobilized, unable to move!
His heart... was trembling.
"What... what is this?!"
Han Lianxiao's pupils contracted, as if he had seen a ghost.
Lu Fan, surrounded by spiritual energy around his wheelchair, reached out and wiped away the water vapor splashed on the woolen blanket, then glanced at the wretched Han Lianxiao on the ground.
Leaning lazily on the wheelchair, he chuckled:
"Cultivator, spiritual pressure."
"Just a trivial skill."
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