Blood-stained love and lust

In the ninth year of Xiande, in the tenth month of autumn

, on the Jiuye Mountain Plain, at the border of the Central Plains and the Eastern Martial World, a Honglian Temple that should have been deserted and uninhabited suddenly began to echo with faint footsteps on the path leading down the mountain to

the back courtyard. The path consisted of 666 stone steps, layer upon layer. The approaching figure moved swiftly, each step of five or six steps followed by a light tap, yet the sound was clearly audible due to the utter silence of the deserted mountain path.

The person was using the superior Confucian "Dengping Talang" lightness skill; despite the rapid pace, there was no sign of disordered breathing, demonstrating a high level of internal strength.

Just past dusk, taking advantage of the early winter night, a young, handsome, and refined swordsman hurried up the mountain, braving the wind and frost. He was none other than Fang Zhiming, the Lushan Gentleman Sword, whose name was prominently displayed on the Martial Arts Compendium and who was jointly recognized by Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism in the Central Plains.

Tonight, he faced a life-or-death battle, a formidable enemy he had to fight, and a beloved woman he had to save.

"You've come, lad!" In less than a quarter of an hour, in the blinding darkness, he swiftly traversed the 666 stone steps of the treacherous mountain path. Despite the arduous and steep terrain, Fang Zhiming remained calm and composed, not shedding a single drop of sweat.

But the forthright and bold words of a man waiting for him caused Fang Zhiming's brow to furrow and a few beads of cold sweat to appear on his forehead.

"Yes, yes, Father... It's been a long time! I've neglected to inquire about you all these years; it's my fault!" Fang Zhiming stopped and arrived at the guest hall outside the back courtyard of Honglian Temple, at the end of the 666 stone steps of this winding mountain path.

Amidst the rustling fallen leaves before him, he saw a majestic figure with an air of otherworldly grace, like a celestial being descended from heaven amidst the desolate landscape.

The old man's hair was a mix of black and white, and illuminated by the four nearby bonfires, his complexion was ruddy, his eyes piercing, exuding the imposing presence of a naturally powerful master.

Who was he? The old man was none other than the Heavenly Sword Elder, the first two generations of the Divine Sword Sect of the Northern Martial World. Besides possessing the Thirteen Forms of the Heavenly Sword Sect, his self-created martial arts, the Twenty-Four Chapters of the Sword Inquiry Manual, were unparalleled sword techniques in the martial world. This allowed him to defeat countless renowned swordsmen before the age of 31, and after the battle at Liangshan Sword Lodge in the Northern Region at the age of 32, he earned the title of "Sword Saint," becoming an unparalleled swordsman. Now, he is undoubtedly the strongest among the legendary "One Saint, Two Gods, Twelve Strongest" of the martial world.

And he was Fang Zhiming's mentor in swordsmanship, and also the formidable opponent he had to face tonight.

※※※

Sixth year of Xiande, winter, first month – Jianghua City, Fuliang County, Jiangnan Circuit.

Second only to Nanjing Yingtian Prefecture and Hangzhou, Zhejiang, as the third largest city in Jiangnan Circuit, Jianghua City was naturally bustling and prosperous.

Fang Zhiming carefully placed a whole packet of local famous tea in his hand… Examining the two jugs of Baishan hairy needle tea and the local famous wine, Zuixianniang, Fang Zhiming wondered if this was intended as a gift for a close friend. It was one of the gifts given to the Second Prince of Qin, who held a high position in the court. However, sitting at a table outside on the second floor of the restaurant, Fang Zhiming, facing a table laden with fine wine and food to welcome him, preferred to admire the moonlight. Unfortunately, Prefect Shen, who was secretly ordered by the Prince of Qin to treat

Fang Zhiming well, turned out to be a man who loved women more than elegance. With winter snow falling, it was the perfect time to warm himself with a pot of hot wine. His drinking companion was Prefect Shen, who was surrounded by beautiful prostitutes, but he wasn't someone Fang Zhiming enjoyed talking to. However, he was still investigating the theft of the Three Religions' secret treasure—the Reversal Divine Jade—in Jianghua City. The local government's access to this prime location forced Fang Zhiming to put on a brave face and discuss the unclear case with him.

"Master Fang, it's late tonight, so I... won't bother you any longer! How about we meet again tomorrow morning in the side hall of the yamen?" After three-quarters past 7 PM, seeing Fang Zhiming's cold and uninterested attitude towards his company, Prefect Shen had already prepared a way to save face. After all, the other party was a close friend of the Second Prince of Qin, and a prominent figure in the martial arts world, representing the highest levels of the three religions.

"Ha! What a self-important江湖人 (jianghu person)! Disdainful of dealing with officials, is that it?" At the dinner table that day, Prefect Shen left not only the silver to pay for the food and drinks, but also this veiled remark, and the key to a premium room in a restaurant.

But after Prefect Shen left with two beautiful prostitutes, Fang Zhiming still drank more than ten cups of warm, fine yellow wine.

Xue Li Gan, meanwhile, coldly observed a middle-aged man standing on a street corner, holding an umbrella to shield himself from the snow. The man looked around, seemingly impatient, but subtly watching the tables outside the second floor of the restaurant—or rather, monitoring them.

Such a feeble surveillance was hardly the work of a martial arts expert. Could it be a member of the Imperial Guard sent by the Third Prince, Prince Xiao? If so, what about the Three Religions' secret treasure? The theft of the Reversal Divine Jade might also involve the struggle for succession between Prince Qin and Prince Xiao.

But the dozen or so cups of Xue Li Gan were more than just a soothing drink; once the effects kicked in, Fang Zhiming, whose alcohol tolerance couldn't keep up with his martial arts skills, would become a staggering drunkard. But upon opening the door to his room in the restaurant, he saw a woman—a blonde, blue-eyed woman of mixed race—barely clothed, having accepted silver from Prefect Shen, waiting on the bed for some "warming" sexual activity.

"Young lady, please put on your clothes! Let me take you out of the room!" The practice of offering women to "warm the bed" is an ugly aspect of officialdom. I am not an official and dare not accept this offering of human flesh from Prefect Shen. I also have to abide by the rules of propriety within the three religions! I apologize…" Fang Zhiming said, lighting a candle for illumination. In the flickering candlelight, the beauty before him captivated him for a moment.

The woman ignored Fang Zhiming, got up, and closed the wooden window. The snow falling outside gradually intensified, and a chill seeped in from the window.

"This maid's name is Pais. I collected twenty taels of silver from Lord Shen on behalf of Longfeng Tower as payment for my work. If I don't work, I won't be able to deliver and will suffer a lot of beatings. Sir... are you heartless? But if you don't need someone to warm your bed, why not let me accompany you for a few more cups of Xue Li Gan (a type of sweet drink) and chat about the customs and culture of Jianghua City... what do you say?" The woman from Semu spoke Chinese surprisingly fluently, and it even carried a subtle magic, dispelling Fang Zhiming's usual coldness that kept people at arm's length.

This woman who accepted money, put on a smile, and sold her body, Pais, was the beloved woman that Fang Zhiming later had to save.

As for... that night in the first month of winter in the sixth year of Xiande, it was their first meeting.

※※※

In the tenth month of autumn in the ninth year of Xiande, Fang Zhiming, who was searching for and wanted to bring Pais back, was facing off against the Sword Saint? The Heavenly Sword Elder.

"Father, please grant me and Pais's wish! Release her, and I will immediately go into seclusion with her in the mountains, living a life of seclusion. I will repay this great kindness in my next life with the loyalty of a dog or a horse!" Knowing the strength of his opponent, he spoke humbly and politely, but his thoughts were on the century-old dry well in the backyard of Honglian Temple. The evil demoness imprisoned and locked in the dry well was none other than Pais, whom he had been thinking about all along.

"Ha, what nonsense are you spouting? The highest arbitrator of the three religions in the Central Plains, you actually abandoned your position and status for a wicked demoness, choosing instead to live a life of seclusion in the mountains? Boy, have you gone mad? You've squandered the fame and fortune you've built over the past thirty or forty years, and you even killed the War Demon? For the sake of your nemesis, you've offended the entire Ghost Prison Gate of Fengdu. Is it... worth it?" Dressed in a pure white robe, the old man exuded an aura of a primordial clan, his hands, behind his back, secretly forming a sword with his fingers, poised to strike amidst the flickering firelight of the campfire.

"Ha, in the past thirty or forty years, for the sake of the three religions, I've already offended all the demonic sects in the Central Plains. Now, the War Demon? So what if he died for my nemesis? What difference does it make if I offend the Ghost Prison Gate of Fengdu?" Fang Zhiming spoke dismissively, but in his heart, he was searching for traces of the "Breath-Binding Thread Technique," finding that Pais was still alive. A heavy weight was lifted from his heart.

If he could overcome this hurdle, he could be with his beloved forever; but his opponent was an insurmountable obstacle.

"Father!" "Boy!" Even though they had known each other for many years and were indeed master and disciple, they had never addressed each other as such. Their short, soft calls to each other sounded like a final sigh, a reminder that their relationship had changed.

"Boy, to prevent you from ruining your future and to avoid a repeat of the bloodthirsty clan disaster of seventy or eighty years ago, whether it's your Pais or the only daywalker among the bloodthirsty clans of the Central Plains?" Galifia said, "Fine, in the sacrifice on the night of the full moon tomorrow, she must die!" Must die? These hurtful words, heard by Fang Zhiming, sealed the fate of their relationship.

"Father, you once said that my sword must have someone worthy of protection to reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship! Tonight, I will not protect the world, nor will I protect fairness and justice; I will only fight to protect one person!" With a light grip on the bamboo scabbard at his waist, Fang Zhiming, a peerless swordsman over seventy years old whose internal energy cultivation had reached a state of perfection, now possessed a youthful, strikingly handsome face, yet a chilling killing intent lingered.

She was Pais, she was "Gariffia," who could potentially unleash another calamity from the bloodthirsty race. But these two different identities were shared by the same person he swore to protect with his life… And the ritual of killing on the night of the full moon, which originated in Western countries and spread eastward to the Central Plains, was used to eternally seal the bloodthirsty race? The secret method of the daywalker—pouring oil and burning, piercing the heart with a silver sword, then sealing it forever in a mercury jar, accompanied by sacred incantations…

However, Fang Zhiming could not allow, nor did he wish to witness the sacrificial killing on the night of the full moon…※※※

The sixth year of Xiande, the first month of winter—Jianghua City, Fuliang County, Jiangnan Circuit.

Outside the side gate of the backyard of the Longfeng Tower, Fang Zhiming dismounted and pushed open the half-open, shabby wooden door. The scene behind it contrasted sharply with the carved and painted buildings behind several low walls and railings. In this small backyard in the narrow alley, Fang Zhiming saw a blonde, blue-eyed woman of mixed race, her winter clothes thin and tattered, her face covered in snowflakes, her hands frozen as she washed basins of clothes and socks, like a lowly official slave or private slave. This made her seem like the difference between heaven and hell, especially compared to the bustling brothel behind her.

"It's you! Master Fang, what brings you here? If you want to patronize Longfeng Tower, you should go through the other vermilion gate, right?" Upon seeing Fang Zhiming, the woman of Asian descent named "Payes" immediately stopped her washing work, looking at the newcomer with slight surprise. He was refined yet possessed a restrained martial spirit.

"I've come to thank you, nothing else!" Fang Zhiming said, but noticing that she was alone in this small courtyard, doing a job that ten people couldn't handle, he felt as if Longfeng Tower couldn't tolerate this woman of Asian descent.

"Thank you for what?" Payes, suppressing her surprise, realized the endless washing work ahead, and the smile on her face disappeared.

This was a helpless situation. The open-mindedness of the past, where Han and non-Han peoples lived as one family and coexisted

, was gone. The current Han Chinese dynasty in the Central Plains was conservative and closed. The few non-Han women who remained in the Central Plains not only struggled to make ends meet, but many also ended up as prostitutes or slaves. "Well, thank you for your candor that night. It allowed me to find the key clues and finally capture one of the three great thieves of the world, Dong Chou? Tian Buji, in one fell swoop. Now that we can retrieve the stolen goods? The Reversal Divine Jade, I can finally give an explanation to the Three Religions Court!" With the man and the stolen goods caught, the rest could be left to the Three Religions Court. Fang Zhiming thought this, but his heart was still on the non-Han woman he hadn't seen for several days.

"Ha, what's there to thank? Is a thank you worth anything? Let's be more practical! Sir, why not buy this maid? It won't cost you much..." Pais's sudden suggestion stunned Fang Zhiming, who was used to seeing all sorts of things.

Fang Zhiming, who always upheld the principles of propriety and social norms and scorned the sale of human flesh, surprisingly had the desire to possess this woman, and thus responded to Pais's suggestion in this way.

"I...I'm penniless, I can't afford you, miss! I only have two taels of silver and 124 copper coins..."

Looking at this woman of mixed ethnicities, Fang Zhiming felt an inexplicable itch in his heart, an unbearable desire to be close to her and to possess her.

Unfortunately, Fang Zhiming had just donated seven hundred taels of silver to the Huai River flood relief efforts the day before, and his purse was unspeakably empty.

However, at the same time, there were also the royal relatives, Princess Lu and Princess Yuanyang, or perhaps the Right Protector of the Ghost Prison Gate in Fengdu?

Yanmo Qinji—Fang Zhiming had been involved with countless celestial beauties in his life, but those who truly moved him were extremely rare.

"My lord, your kindness is enough! The rest… I'll handle it myself!" Hearing Fang Zhiming's reply, Pais, who had just smiled, brushed a layer of snowflakes from her face, her smile as radiant as the winter sun breaking through the clouds.

Two days later, Fang Zhiming killed three Jinyiwei who had defected from the court. Besides recovering the stolen Reversal Divine Jade from their hands, all the evidence he gathered pointed to the faction of the Third Prince Xiao Wang, the mastermind behind it all.

But more than fulfilling his duty as the highest arbitrator of the three religions, what concerned Fang Zhiming even more was the visit of Yu Po, the madam of the Dragon and Phoenix Pavilion.

After some polite words, Fang Zhiming handed Granny Yu 200 copper coins—less than a tael of silver, but enough for Granny Yu to keep a woman of Central Asian descent and a government slave certificate that bound her personal freedom.

How was this 200-coin price negotiated? That remained a secret Pais had never revealed to Fang Zhiming.

"My lord…do you want me? From now on, this servant? Pais, is yours alone…" As soon as Granny Yu left, the ink on the newly written contract was still wet when Pais pulled off her red fur coat, revealing her naked body. Even Fang Zhiming, known as the "Gentleman Sword," felt his mouth dry and his body heat up.

That night, their first night of passion planted the seeds for the "Gentleman Sword's" downfall.

The newly written indenture and official slave certificate were burned to ashes by a candle flame the following day, under the sunlight.

＊＊＊＊＊＊

"...At the age of sixteen, he realized he had achieved some success in swordsmanship, and thus went north to Luoyang in the Central Plains to compete for the title of the most outstanding young martial artist in the land; however, he was caught in the calamity of the Bloodthirsty Clan, and his mother, Lady Du, was also killed, turning into a corpse and disappearing without a trace; his father's personality also changed drastically because of this..." This is from the first year of Xiande? *The Biographies of Famous Figures* by the Martial Arts Commissioner? Volume 12 of the Three Religions Chapter - by Lanling Fengxuesheng.

The ninth year of Xiande, the tenth month of autumn.

Outside the backyard of Honglian Temple, an inevitable battle for the pinnacle of swordsmanship finally began as the bright moon hung high.

"Father, watch out!" Knowing his opponent's strength, Fang Zhiming drew his bamboo sword, its blade gleaming, unleashing seventeen consecutive sword techniques in rapid succession, like a dense net of swords, a deadly aura descending from the heavens.

"Boy, not bad. The Confucian Five Elements Six Harmonies Sword, the Taoist Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams Sword, the Buddhist Weituo Demon-Subduing Sword... you are proficient in them all..." Although his words were words of praise, the Heavenly Sword Elder, with his unhurried "Flowing Clouds and Flowing Water" movement, effortlessly countered Fang Zhiming, who also used the same technique, using only "Qi Sword Finger."

When was the last time the Heavenly Sword Elder had drawn his sword in battle? No one remembered, only his title of "Sword Saint" and his invincible nature.

"Ha, old man is indeed very strong! Take this! Bamboo Sword Technique Eighteen Forms - Bamboo Edge Thousand Streams!" If he couldn't defeat the old man in front of him, he and Pais would have no future. With his mind made up, Fang Zhiming ended his test of skill and unleashed the move that would make him famous for thousands of years, "Bamboo Edge Thousand Streams".

As the invisible sword energy surged forth like a raging torrent, it stirred up fallen leaves, sending them swirling and dancing in a flurry. In an instant, the two clashed. Was this a pinnacle of swordsmanship? The Qi Sword Finger had already exchanged blows with the Bamboo Clear Sword more than a dozen times, each filled with awe.

"Ha! Again! Double Style Flow - Bamboo Trembles, Tells of Eight Sufferings; Bamboo Sounds, Cries of Sorrow!" With one sword strike, he employed two styles, adding the clear sound of Fang Zhiming's fingertips lightly flicking the sword's blade, all to disturb the senses and senses. Following the mournful tone of the sword's sound, the sword moves and sword energy pressed directly towards his opponent.

The sword energy tore several corners of his pristine white robe, finally forcing the Heavenly Sword Elder to acknowledge the opponent's martial prowess. Turning around, he lightly patted his name-seeking sword box, revealing a rusty, broken piece of metal, proudly displayed in the Heavenly Sword Elder's right hand.

"A rusty sword? A worthless sword, is it? My father's sword, the Thousand Victories Sword, which he used before he turned 45, I finally get to see it today! I... am very happy!" Seeing his opponent's seriousness, Fang Zhiming's competitive spirit also flared. He attacked again, using another of his signature moves, the Bamboo Sword Technique.

"Ten steps, one kill, leaving no trace; a thousand years, one mark, leaving no trace!" he roared, unleashing his sword without holding back.

Three days ago, in the "One Man Crossing the Storm" battle in the Eastern Martial World, Fang Zhiming used this very move to kill Zhan Mo, one of the twelve strongest warriors, his nemesis.

But his current opponent was far stronger than Zhan Mo, his nemesis. In the exchange of blows, he encountered the ultimate sword technique—the Twenty-Four Chapters of the Sword Inquiry.

"Sword Ten!" The power of a sword saint amplified the might of the worthless sword. Upon exchanging blows, Fang Zhiming was shocked to find his sword technique broken!

※※※

Sixth year of Xiande, summer, June—Shuque Street, Shuntian Prefecture, Beijing? One mile away from the Prince of Qin's residence.

"Woo-wah~", Prince Qin, the Second Prince, who had fought many battles, suddenly felt an unbearable pain in his chest and abdomen as he rode his famous horse "Jueying". Then he spat out a mouthful of black poisonous blood.

"Hmph! It seems... the Crown Prince and his brothers, Prince Xiao and Prince Jing, really can't tolerate Your Highness Qin... Your life will have to stay in this world!" The person who was also riding his horse and galloping along the streets of Shuntian Prefecture in Beijing at night was Fang Zhiming, who had accompanied Prince Qin to the Crown Prince's banquet at the Eastern Palace.

"Damn, that hurts! Ugh... Ugh..." The King of Qin coughed up another mouthful of black, poisonous blood. Even though he had bravely led his army to defeat the rebel armies of King Dou Jianwei of Xia and King Wang Shilin of Zheng at the Battle of Hulao Pass, assisting the Emperor in re-establishing the Central Plains, the King of Qin could escape the swords and spears of the battlefield, but he couldn't escape the vicious schemes within the palace.

"King of Qin, aren't you, the Crown Prince, King Xiao, and King Jing all born of the same mother? Damn it... isn't that the same Empress Dugu who's fucking your mother..." Suddenly, Fang Zhiming blurted out a thoughtless remark, further exacerbating the poison afflicting the King of Qin's heart.

"Damn it! Brother Fang, is it appropriate for you to tell a lame joke at a time like this? Quickly escort me back to the palace... I... I can't hold on much longer! Hurry up!" Suddenly, the King of Qin's vision went black, and a sharp pain in his chest robbed him of his consciousness. To help the King of Qin, who was about to fall from his horse, Fang Zhiming quickly turned to the side, holding onto the saddle, trying to catch the King of

Qin's strong body, which was trembling and sweating profusely. The two of them rode on two horses, followed by more than ten deadly riders from the Crown Prince's faction. Suddenly, several crossbow bolts whistled through the air, vying to strike Fang Zhiming or the King of Qin in the back and head.

"My lord, be careful!" In an instant, a beautiful figure wearing a red fur coat leaped onto the horse, displaying incredibly graceful lightness of movement and an audacity that showed no fear of death.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!" Several arrows struck the back of the beautiful woman in red. In a moment of shock, Fang Zhiming saw Pais, who should have been waiting in the Qin King's palace.

"Hah... Bamboo soul vanishes into the Yellow Springs!" Suddenly, consumed by rage, Fang Zhiming abruptly stopped his horse, raised his saddle, and swung his sword in mid-air with a fluid motion. A move from the Eighteen Forms of the Bamboo Sword Technique instantly beheaded two crossbowmen.

"Pais... Pais..." At that moment, Fang Zhiming wondered for the first time what life would be like without a woman by his side. He instinctively embraced Pais, pulling out the arrow but her body covered in blood.

"My lord... are you alright? Ugh... Ugh..." The arrow was poisoned. Seeing Pais, like the Qin King, cough up a mouthful of black, poisonous blood, he, Fang Zhiming, was enraged!

It was a memory so familiar! The calamity of the vampire clan in his youth, his mother's last moments as a ghoul—these were all hazy memories for Fang Zhiming. But now, with Pais's life hanging by a thread, he couldn't help but recall those horrific memories.

More than losing his own life, losing someone he cared about filled

Fang Zhiming with fear and rage. So, with a roar, Fang Zhiming wielded his Bamboo Sword, and in a series of swift moves, he took the lives of eighteen riders who had been pursuing them.

In the same year, in the seventh month of summer, after recovering from his illness, Prince Qin, in order to help Yes seek justice, intervened in the power struggle within the imperial palace—the Shenwu Gate Incident. Prince Qin launched a preemptive coup, eliminating the Crown Prince and his brothers, including Prince Xiao and Prince Jing. The imperial palace was a scene of bloodshed. After successfully defeating the Eastern Palace Guards, Fang Zhiming, carrying the heads of the deceased Crown Prince and Prince Xiao, led the other generals to the Linhu Palace, where the current Emperor was temporarily staying.

Two days later, the victor of the Shenwu Gate Incident, the Second Prince Qin, was promoted to the new Crown Prince. Fang Zhiming was also granted the honorary title of First-Class Pillar of State Grand Master of the Palace and concurrently Minister of the Imperial Household, and was granted the rank of First-Class Marquis. He also received a decree of marriage.

Married to the current princess of Lu and princess of Yuanyang, and granted the title of Commandant of Heyang, Fang Zhiming was showered with the new crown prince's favor. However, he took the imperial edict of marriage with him and, along with Pais, returned to Baichaolu City, the seat of the Three Religions Alliance.

※※※

The ninth year of Xiande, the tenth month of autumn.

The life-or-death sword duel outside the backyard of Honglian Temple was still in full swing.

Amidst the flickering flames of the burning bonfires, two figures, each wielding a cold sword light, clashed.

"Sword Eleven, Sword Twelve, Sword Thirteen..." The Heavenly Sword Elder, having mastered the ultimate technique of the Sword Inquiry, wielded his sword with the freedom of the wind, leaving Fang Zhiming struggling to defend himself.

"Watch out! Father! Bamboo Shadow Thousand Instant Kill!" Knowing that if he were to lose tonight, he would never see Pais again, Fang Zhiming switched between offense and defense, quickening his pace and employing even more advanced light-foot techniques of teleportation and shadow clones. Even the mighty Heavenly Sword Elder could vaguely see several afterimages that disturbed his mind, accompanied by a surprise sword attack that mixed with illusions.

"In martial arts, speed is the only way to break through," Fang Zhiming thought, but he was quickly met with a resounding blow!

"Sword Fifteen!" Using slowness to overcome speed and clumsiness to overcome skill, a rusty piece of scrap metal was swung in the Heavenly Sword Elder's hand, and it actually sliced through the thick stone pillar that two people could barely hug under the abandoned stone lantern. The sword's power reached so far that the gray bricks and stones on the ground of the guest hall were shattered into a pile of gravel and sand, leaving a deep trench-like mark.

But Fang Zhiming, a seasoned swordsman who had lived a life of bloodshed, changed his swordsmanship again before his moves were completely broken.

"Bamboo Sharp Thousand Turbulent Waters!" "Sword Seventeen!" In another exchange of fast and slow swordplay, Fang Zhiming, who had lost by half a move, paid the price of a bloody defeat with three wounds on his left shoulder, left leg, and right waist!

"Want to fight again, boy?" The old man of the Heavenly Sword, mindful of old friendship, moved and stopped in the blink of an eye.

"Heh, old man, I'm not quite dead yet! I can bleed, but winning or losing... I can't give up so easily..." Leaning on his sword, Fang Zhiming immediately sealed several major acupoints on his body, forcibly stopping the bleeding from his wounds.

"Alright! Then... Sword Eighteen!" "Bamboo Sword Technique - Bamboo Frost Clears and Pine Smoke Gathers!" The difference in swordsmanship skill was finally obvious—the Bamboo Sword, knocked out of his hand, almost brought this life-or-death duel to a close.

Yes, almost brought it to a close! Because the next moment was a time of uncertainty, a reversal of fortune!

"Double Palm of Returning Heaven!" The Bamboo Sword, deliberately knocked out of his hand, momentarily drew the attention of the Heavenly Sword Elder—in an instant, he received a heavy palm strike, followed by the "Three Absolute Palms of Returning Heaven," a move that made him famous in martial arts.

"Sword... Nineteen!" "Thirty-Six Strikes of Returning Heaven!" Fists, palms, fingers, and legs clashed with the unparalleled swordsmanship, the attack and defense evenly matched, each adding more bloody wounds to their bodies.

"Clang!" Fang Zhiming, who had been knocked back by the Unsuccessful Sword, took the opportunity to retreat several steps and caught the Bamboo Clear Sword that fell from the sky. The blade rang out again with a clear sound, and the sword energy swept across the ground, leaving the broken bricks and stones on the ground of the guest hall scarred and battered.

"Hmph! Brat! I didn't expect that your swordsmanship... your fist and foot skills are also superb! Apart from the Beggar Clan leader Huangfu Yizhi's Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, your Returning Heaven Fist and Palm Skill is the second fist and palm master that I remember vividly!" Wiping away the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth, the Heavenly Sword Elder, who was circulating his energy to regulate his breathing and stop the bleeding, also pushed his power to the limit.

"Boy! Show me your skills and take this move from me! Sword Twenty!" "Am I afraid of you?

Father! Watch out!" Fang Zhiming's ability to stand at the pinnacle of martial arts among the various sects and schools of the three religions in the Central Plains is not solely due to this set of eighteen bamboo sword techniques.

"Double moves combined - Bamboo wind whistles and pine moon, bamboo rain whispers and pine snow!" However, apart from the Heaven-Returning Fist and Palm Technique, if Fang Zhiming wants to defeat the Heavenly Sword Elder, he ultimately has to return to the eighteen bamboo sword techniques.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!" Several clanging sounds rang out as the Unyielding Sword and the Bamboo Clear Sword, two extraordinary swords standing side by side at the pinnacle of swordsmanship in the world, were simultaneously stained with the crimson blood from the opponent's numerous cuts across their blades.

The massive loss of blood meant that their strength was about to be exhausted. In the chilling atmosphere of the reception hall, Fang Zhiming and the Heavenly Sword Elder struggled to steady their breathing, knowing that all that remained was a final, decisive blow. Seemingly

sensing the impending outcome, in the century-old dry well in the backyard of Honglian Temple—the Demon-Subduing Well—Payes, the Blood Saintess of the Bloodthirsty Clan—also known as Galifia, who had been quietly imprisoned, began to stir restlessly.

The moon was full, the autumn wind was cool, and dozens of miles away, the ten strongest warriors of both the righteous and evil paths were rushing tirelessly towards Honglian Temple on the Jiuye Mountain Plain…※※※

The seventh year of Xiande, the third month of spring—Wuhan County, Jianghan Road—the first room of the Fengyu Jiangshan Tower.

“Excuse me, these gifts can stay here!” Under Fang Zhiming's direction, the innkeeper was busy as bees.

"Wait for me a little longer, okay?" Fang Zhiming glanced subconsciously at the Western-made clock, noticing the time.

"It's alright, whatever you say, my husband, I'll do as you wish. Please don't mind!" Wearing a red silk veil, the delicate and sweet Pais responded to Fang Zhiming in a soft voice. He was her new husband, tonight, to be married to her.

"Heh!" For some reason, Fang Zhiming chuckled to himself, looking utterly adorable and clueless.

However, this marriage and the silly, grinning groom did not receive widespread blessings or approval.

The highest arbitrator, holding a high position in the three religions, had actually married a foreign prostitute of unknown origin! The marriage alarmed the newly appointed Crown Prince, who ordered its annulment. The "Three Jade Seats"—Jade Confucian Sage, Jade Daoist Venerable, and Jade Buddha—who held the highest positions in the three religious organizations, also unanimously demanded that Fang Zhiming repent and repent.

Repent? What? Repent? Determined to defend his freedom of marriage with all his might, Fang Zhiming spent his entire year's salary of 3,600 taels of silver, generously booking the top floor of the Fengyu Jiangshan Tower to hold the wedding.

Fengyu Jiangshan Tower was the largest neutral organization in the martial arts world. Back then, before he was the Crown Prince, Prince Qin received support and intelligence from Fengyu Jiangshan Tower, enabling him to win the Battle of Hulao Pass and decisively defeat the rebel forces of Prince Xia, Dou Jianwei, and Prince Zheng, Wang Shilin, thus restoring stability to the imperial court's territory in the northern Central Plains.

After several days of undisturbed peace and the comfortable, quiet view from the private room, Fang Zhiming realized for the first time that spending three thousand six hundred taels of silver in one go was actually so enjoyable… so exhilarating.

At three-quarters past dusk, after dealing with the gifts he had received, Fang Zhiming, carrying a pair of wine cups and a small cup of Snowdrop wine, found Pais waiting on the newlyweds' bed. Pais, veiled in red silk, her face radiant with shy beauty, exuded an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, leaving Fang Zhiming stunned and then grinning foolishly.

Sitting on the newlyweds' bed, the couple leaned close, Pais's hair fragrance wafting like incense.

Lifting the red silk veil, Pais held a cup filled with Snowdrop wine, and the two drank the nuptial wine, a drink that made their faces flush, their hearts race, and their mouths dry.

"Husband… how many little children do you want me to bear for you?" Pais asked, her eyes filled with alluring charm.

Then, Pais tentatively stretched out her leg, rubbing it against Fang Zhiming's thigh, seeking warmth through the subtle friction.

He responded by stroking her calf; it was elastic, yet possessed the softness of a young woman's skin.

Unable to resist such teasing, Fang Zhiming's crotch swelled with increasing intensity as the legs became more alluring. She gave a slight, charming smile.

Fang Zhiming, a scholar of poetry and history, and skilled in martial arts, couldn't cultivate the restraint of his innate lust, which began to surface.

Their tongues began to intertwine in each other's mouths; Pais, a former prostitute, was skilled in sexual techniques, her sucking force strong yet conveying intense passion. As he lightly bit her lips, she returned an even deeper, more intense kiss—more of a test of his lust than intimacy.

He removed her bridal gown, leaving her in a clean white shirt and a bright red bodice underneath. Then, he began to caress her face, moving down to her neck and collarbone. He deliberately pulled one of her shirts aside and untied the bodice, greedily sucking on Pais's two delicate red nipples, enticing her body to sway with his sucking. She softly called out her new husband's name. Pais arched her back, completely untied her bodice, and casually tossed it to the floor beside the bed. She began to rub her man's hair with both hands.

Fang Zhiming continued to suck and lick downwards, starting to circle her navel, his tongue playfully licking it. The woman, aroused, showed no restraint; Pais pressed his head down harder, her hands, imbued with a pent-up desire, trying to force Fang Zhiming's tongue towards her private parts.

Driven by the effects of the snowdrops, the couple felt their bodies burning hot. The moment their limbs touched, the lingering pleasure made them crave more of each other's embrace.

"I don't know how, but the first time I saw you, I fell in love with you! Really, that familiar sense of security, only my mother has ever given me..." the groom, Fang Zhiming, said to Pais, cupping his bride's face in his hands.

"Ugh...so bad...you don't treat your wife like a wife...you treat her like...a mother doing bad...bad things...mmm...ah~so bad...my husband is bullying me...I finally understand my fate...ah...husband..." Ha, the most terrifying thing is a man who has lost all his refinement. His thieving hands, roaming unabashedly over his woman's breasts and buttocks, were skilled in flirting. He had been a prostitute for years, but now, Pais could only lie weak and powerless on the newlyweds' bed, letting her man conquer her.

In the end, even the clean white underwear Pais wore became a toy in the hands of the grinning groom.

Princess Lu and Princess Yuanyang from the inner palace, along with Yanmo Qinji, the most beautiful ice queen of the Demonic Sect… and other beauties served as sparring partners for dual cultivation. Fang Zhiming, over seventy years old, possessed not only knowledge and martial arts skills, but also a wealth of experience in bed

. Pais quickly became dazed from being played with, yet her body remained sensitive. She moaned as he fondled her breasts and genitals. Weak and without the will to resist, she could only lie on the newlyweds' bed, manipulated like a puppet. Then, Fang Zhiming's tongue, curved like a snake, licked Pais's vulva.

Her moans seemed to encourage him, and he intensified his licking.

"Ugh… I can't take it… Husband, you're so bad… Mmm… Ahh…" Unable to bear it any longer, Pais began to moan loudly.

Perhaps sensing the contractions emanating from her vulva, he, skilled in manipulating a woman's desire, slowed his licking. Under her heightened arousal, her cleanly shaved vulva, white as frost, trembled, glistening with a trickle of lustful fluid. Gradually, beneath the slightly raised mound, the fluid gathered into a wet ditch. Fang Zhiming lowered his head, licking the source of the erotic, moist scent with his tongue. The slightly salty taste of human flesh was sensual. He then parted the labia with his tongue, thrusting directly into the heart of her flower, the source of the flowing fluid. The saltiness had faded, replaced by a pungent, musky aroma.

In response, she reached out and removed his cumbersome clothes, greedily grasping his precious penis, stroking it up and down, her fingers occasionally stimulating the large, bright red glans at its tip.

Afterwards, Payes began to lightly taste the essence of his penis, as if sipping hot tea, savoring the warm, throbbing, bright red glans.

Then, watching the entire penis disappear into her mouth, Payes, with the tender love she shared with her husband, greedily absorbed every drop of clear, watery desire dripping from his shaft.

Seeing his wife's efforts to please him, the man's penis grew even more vigorous and powerful, ready for the next step of their marital intimacy.

"Give it to me! Husband... I want it... Your little flesh slave Pais... I want your... your big meat stick... Ah... Please use the way you fuck me to death... Use your big meat stick... fuck your little flesh slave well... Ah..." With lewd moans, Pais got up and lay prone on the edge of the bed, her firm buttocks raised, enticingly reaching her hand towards Fang Zhiming behind her back, grabbing his precious penis and shoving it into her vagina.

"So big... so thick... so hard... It's such a wonderful treasure... Ah... Husband..." Pais whispered, her voice low and breathy, as if she could moan uncontrollably at any moment.

Although she was now a wife, the lewd nature of a prostitute still flowed in her bones.

The angle at which the jade stem entered her perfectly scraped against the walls of her vaginal cavity. With each thrust, she gripped the embroidered pillow tighter, her golden hair cascading down her back like a tree of vibrant yellow blossoms falling in the wind.

Soon, the sticky sounds of water mingled with the slapping of flesh against flesh, filling the entire room. In the lewd atmosphere, Pais, her body tense, clung desperately to the man's body, writhing in arousal.

The wife, her body acutely sensitive, could only urge her husband on with screams.

Then, the next moment of their passionate night was priceless. Pais, in her arousal state, was no less than a newlywed wife, but a perfect, submissive bitch for breeding and reproduction.

And her new husband, the man who was her master, was none other than the renowned Lushan Gentleman Sword?

Fang Zhiming.

*****

The ninth year of Xiande, the tenth month of autumn.

The life-or-death sword duel outside the backyard of Honglian Temple had reached its final moment, the decisive moment for victory or defeat.

He was her husband, her lover, and the only man who could protect her; therefore, he had no reason to accept defeat and bitterness!

He was her master, a close elder, and the only strong person who could suppress him; therefore, he had no reason to back down and admit defeat!

After confirming their determination to fight to this point, they simultaneously mustered all their inner energy, their sudden surge of power sweeping across the surroundings. Even a centuries-old tree that would take several people to encircle was easily broken in half, not to mention the scattered brick and stone debris on the ground, which creaked and groaned under the sword energy, as if resonating with the flames of the surrounding campfires;

howling, raging, and weeping, as if fully expressing the surging emotions of the master and disciple before their final exchange.

"Come on! Boy! Victory or defeat, all will be decided in one move! Ah~ The Sword Inquiry? Sword No. 22 - The Sword Asks the World?

Who Can Rival It..." With a leap, the Heavenly Sword Elder soared into the air, his entire body erupting with sword energy, like a bright moon shining high in the sky, the sword energy pouring down like moonlight, an unparalleled and domineering move, yet also a move that combined strength and gentleness, dense with killing intent.

Back then, in the Battle of Liangshan Sword Lodge in the Northern Region, the Heavenly Sword Elder used this move, "Sword No. 22? Who Can Rival It," to kill the two evil swordsmen of the Northern Region, the Human Evil and the Sword Evil, in one fell swoop, thus achieving his current reputation as the Sword Saint of the Central Plains.

"So powerful... such a powerful move... and a flawless move... but... I can't lose here!

Father! I'm sorry! Hah..." Upon witnessing such an astonishing sword technique, Fang Zhiming suppressed his brief admiration. He exerted all his strength, reversing the flow of energy through his meridians. Instantly, his power broke through the limits of his cultivation, becoming no less than that of the Heavenly Sword Elder. His rebellious sword energy, flowing in all directions, shattered the surrounding bricks and rubble like a raging torrent.

The Three Religions' secret treasure? The Reversal Divine Jade. After the theft case was solved, a small piece of the Reversal Divine Jade was left as a reward. Now it has played a wondrous role. Combined with the secrets of the Taoist manual—the Meridian Cleansing Double Scroll—the outcome of the battle is still uncertain.

"The Eighteen Forms of Bamboo Sword Technique - Bamboo Peak's Pure Clarity Reflecting the Pine Waves!" The final move, a ruthless and unreserved strike—possessing both the exquisite understanding of the principles of nature and the life-or-death resolve of a contest of inner strength, a move capable of determining victory or defeat in a battle of wits.

The last time Fang Zhiming used this move, he completely defeated Dark Night Cold Duke Simon, inflicting a devastating blow.

Simon, the elder of the Central Plains Bloodthirsty Clan, was prevented by Fang Zhiming from fully awakening "Gariffia"—another version of Pais—and thus obtained the exotic script book,

the Blood Nerve, which offered a glimpse into the secrets of the Bloodthirsty Clan.

However, in this life-or-death struggle, victory or defeat hangs in the balance. The earth heard only a crisp, clear sound that abruptly ceased.

It was the resounding clang of the Unfinished Sword and the Bamboo Clear Sword, the two renowned swords, as they clashed for the last time.

"Hiss..." A burst of blood mist sprayed into the sky from the chest, the wound on the Heavenly Sword Elder's chest was deep and long.

But before he could feel sadness or sigh, a familiar figure flashed by and pounced on the dying Heavenly Sword Elder, and in front of Fang Zhiming, he inhaled the spray of blood that hit him.

"Pa...Payes...Payes..." Fang Zhiming's feeble cries were both a lament for killing the Heavenly Sword Elder, a figure like a master to him, and a silent self-mockery of his inability to stop his lover and wife from falling into depravity.

And so, under the full moon, the Heavenly Sword Elder, a legendary swordsman, passed away peacefully outside the dilapidated Honglian

Temple.

And the monstrous "Kariffia," a femme fatale who brought ruin to the world, seemed to have returned to the mortal realm.

It should have been a moment of satisfaction after defeating a powerful enemy, but the scene before him was chilling...※※※

The seventh year of Xiande, the third month of spring—Wuhan County, Jianghan Road? The first room of the Fengyu Jiangshan Tower.

On the first morning after their wedding, the newlyweds, still full of passion, were passionately making love on their bridal bed, their bodies drenched in sweat.

"I...I...I'm going to come again...ahhh..." After repeatedly bringing his newlywed wife to the brink of ecstasy, Fang Zhiming unleashed another powerful thrust, tightly gripping Pais's shapely buttocks and forcefully ejaculating his thick semen.

This ejaculation marked the seventh round of passionate intercourse since their wedding night.

Lying on the bed, Pais's legs were spread wide, letting the semen leak from her vulva, her cheeks still flushed and her expression dazed.

Looking at the woman before him, now his wife, Fang Zhiming smiled with a satisfied, radiant smile.

"With a wife like this, what more could a husband ask for?" With these thoughts in mind, Fang Zhiming's bamboo sword finally had someone to fight and protect for.

"Husband...you're making fun of me! How annoying! Humph!" Coming back to her senses, she saw Fang Zhiming's smiling face and shyly turned her head away, feeling a mix of shame, joy, and a little anger.

But neither of them spoke, because the desire that didn't need words to express led them to intertwine their tongues once more, followed by the harmonious union of yin and yang in their genitals, entering their eighth consecutive act of mating, regardless of the time of day.

"Let's find a day and go to Mount Lu's Immortal Peak to pay a proper visit to the Heavenly Sword Elder! Although he's an annoying and talkative old man, he's also my master, and another father to me..." Lying naked side by side on the bed, Fang Zhiming suggested this to his newlywed wife, Pais.

"Yes, whatever my husband says, I'll do. Isn't that what you Han Chinese from the Central Plains say too? 'A woman follows her husband wherever he goes,' um...um..." What a damned loving couple! The husband turned around and started having sex with his newlywed wife again. Their ninth time mating since last night—it was truly a glorious affair, requiring the man to have good stamina, haha!

The ninth year of Xiande, the tenth month of autumn.

The life-or-death sword duel outside the backyard of Honglian Temple was already a fait accompli. Now, only a shameful ending remained.

Watching his beloved wife, her face covered in blood, approach him, her sharp teeth slightly parted in a bloodthirsty ferocity, Fang Zhiming, who had just defeated a generation's sword saint and whose martial arts were arguably the best in the world, sat on the ground in utter despair, tears streaming down his face, his eyes glazed, only able to stare blankly at the full moon in the night sky.

A sword, a sword of utter depravity, was worthy of this blood-soaked love and lust!

In a way, wasn't this another kind of fulfillment that Fang Zhiming had been hoping for?

"Love is inherently unhindered, yet tonight, sharing joys and sorrows is difficult;

the flesh pot overflows with essence, but alas, mutual affection is no more!"

Just as Fang Zhiming sat blankly lost in thought, a single sentence awakened his consciousness.

"Husband... what's wrong?" But at the same time, two rows of slightly open sharp teeth pressed against the veins in Fang Zhiming's neck...

Was it Pais? Or Galifia? Fang Zhiming could no longer tell... Not far away on the Jiuye Mountain Plain, the ten masters of both righteous and evil paths continued their journey towards Honglian Temple...

[The End]

Word Count: 12062

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