The memories of all humanity are awakening, except for mine.

"However, this matter has far-reaching implications, and we hope that the general will come inside the hall for a detailed discussion."

He glanced at Zhou as he spoke.

The Crown Princess understood and forced herself to stand up, though her legs were still trembling slightly.

Today, she wore a simple bun hairstyle, and a few strands of her hair had fallen loose, which, against her pale face, gave her a breathtakingly fragile beauty.

Gu Cheng's gaze lingered on Zhou Shi for a moment, then he suddenly clapped his hands.

Two guards immediately brought over a disheveled female musician.

The woman's hair was disheveled, and her silk robe was half-undone, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin.

"This general is thirsty."

Gu Cheng pulled the Qin player into his arms, his fingers lightly stroking her chin.

"There must be wine."

Liang Maoye's eyes twitched, but he could only bow and lead the way.

"General, this way please."

As Zhou turned around, she caught a glimpse of Gu Cheng shamelessly kneading the woman's waist.

Her earlobes suddenly turned bright red, and she quickened her pace to walk to Liang Maoye's side to help him up.

This subtle reaction did not escape Gu Cheng's eyes. He curled his lips into a cold smile and deliberately made the Qin woman let out an ambiguous moan.

The clouds and mist on the beautiful landscape fan suddenly surged violently.

In the world within the fan, Jiang Chuan was tightly covering Wu Shuang's ears.

The two had been trapped in this tiny space for a day, yet they could clearly see and hear everything happening outside.

"Shameless! Dirty!"

Wu Shuang blushed and cursed, but dared not raise her voice too much.

She was wearing an apricot-colored outfit today, and even her neck was flushed.

Jiang Chuan suddenly turned around, his ears turning bright red.

The ambiguous sounds coming from outside left the twenty-year-old at a loss. He stared intently at the cloud patterns carved on the pavilion pillars, as if they were some kind of peerless martial arts technique.

"Senior sister, look at the direction of the cloud patterns on this fan."

Jiang Chuan's voice was hoarse, and he forcibly changed the subject.

"Gu Cheng just mentioned the Imperial Preceptor Cheng Zizai, this matter is probably not simple."

Wu Shuang was vigorously wiping her ears with her sleeve when she heard this and paused for a moment.

Her almond-shaped eyes widened as she looked at Jiang Chuan's profile, which was feigning composure. Suddenly, she understood his intention, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

"You certainly know how to pick a time to talk about serious matters."

Wu Shuang gave a light hum, but went along with his topic.

"What did that madman say? I didn't hear him clearly."

Jiang Chuan secretly breathed a sigh of relief, his fingers unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist.

"Gu Cheng said he was sent by the Imperial Preceptor to investigate the case, but as soon as he arrived in the county town, he heard that the Prince of Liang's mansion had issued a warrant for his arrest."

His killing of Zhao Zhen and arrest of Zeng Xianming may seem like madness, but in reality…

"Is it actually to clear your name?"

Wu Shuang raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't actually believe his nonsense, did you?"

Outside the pavilion, a cloud of mist suddenly churned violently, vaguely revealing the scene outside—Gu Cheng was leading the zither player into the main hall, with Liang Maoye following behind, his face ashen.

Jiang Chuan stared at the cloud, his eyes growing cold.

"Of course he has ill intentions. But given the current situation, the people behind the scenes want to use the death of the Yan prince to incite war between the Great Zhou and the Yan Kingdom, and then frame me. If they succeed, I will surely die; if Gucheng succeeds..."

"You can live, but you'll probably pay a price."

Wu Shuang continued, as if suddenly remembering something.

"Wait, you're the eldest son of the Cloud Sea Immortal Sect. Those old fogies on Sitting in Oblivion Peak are the most protective of their own. They..."

"Senior sister!"

Jiang Chuan suddenly interrupted her, his expression changing slightly.

"Don't mention Sitting in Oblivion Peak."

Wu Shuang was stunned.

She was originally a disciple of Huoshenshan and was not familiar with the internal factions of Yunhai Immortal Sect. She had only heard her master mention the rumor that "the Seven Masters of Zuowang were fiercely protective of their own."

Jiang Chuan's reaction at this moment clearly indicates that there is another hidden reason.

"Did something happen to you in the Qilian Mountains?"

Wu Shuang asked tentatively.

Jiang Chuan's fingers suddenly clenched the jade pendant, his knuckles turning white.

Qilian Mountains—the place where Xu Peng, the Little Fire God, died three months ago, which was also the beginning of his forced departure from the Cloud Sea Immortal Sect.

Zhou An, the leader of Huoshenshan Sect, is still hunting him down, if he knew that he was with Wu Shuang.
"Did you ever hear of me when you were at Huoshenshan Hospital, Senior Sister?"

Jiang Chuan didn't answer but asked a question in his low voice.

Wu Shuang blinked.
"Of course! The Cloud Sea Jade Sword has astonished the entire land. Who hasn't heard of a genius who entered the fourth realm at the age of twenty?"

She suddenly lowered her voice.

"Actually, I wanted to see you last year, but unfortunately, it was during the Qilian Mountain Sword Tournament."

"Senior sister!"

Jiang Chuan interrupted again, this time his tone almost pleading.

The pavilion fell silent for a moment.

Looking at Jiang Chuan's tense profile, Wu Shuang suddenly realized that she had touched a taboo.

The giggles of the zither player coming from outside sounded particularly jarring.

"Who did you offend?"

Wu Shuang changed the subject.

"Or rather, who would see you as a threat and want to nip you in the bud?"

Jiang Chuan relaxed his shoulders slightly and pondered for a moment.

"They might be from the Cloud Sea Immortal Sect, but..."

He shook his head.

"The ability to command the military command to issue a city-wide warrant for my arrest, and to get the Liang Prince's Mansion to cooperate in the charade, is not something that an ordinary sect could do."

"Deng Yinhe and Zhao Zhen are both Supreme Beings of the Fourth Realm, and Zhao Weiyuan is even more so."

Wu Shuang suddenly gasped.

"They have someone backing them!"

Jiang Chuan nodded, his eyes sharp as swords.
"And he's no ordinary person. To be able to mobilize both the imperial court and the martial arts world, he must be at least..."

"National Division?"

Wu Shuang blurted out, then immediately covered her mouth, looking at the lonely city in the outside world with horror.

Jiang Chuan did not answer.

He recalled the incident in Qilian Mountain three months ago, the eerie smile of Little Fire God Xu Peng before his death, and the complicated look in his master's eyes when he was forced to leave the immortal sect. Was all of this really just a sect feud?

"Jiangchuan."

Wu Shuang suddenly called his name softly, her voice so gentle it was almost unbelievable.

What exactly have you been through all these years?

Jiang Chuan was taken aback, then turned to meet Wu Shuang's eyes—there was no trace of her usual willfulness and capriciousness, only pure heartache.

He then realized that the two of them were standing very close to each other to avoid outside noise, close enough to smell the faint fragrance of fire spirit flowers in her hair.

"My advisor often said that I was a flower in a greenhouse."

Wu Shuang laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Now it seems that you are the one who has weathered the storm."

She suddenly reached out and patted Jiang Chuan's shoulder, the movement a little clumsy, but it warmed Jiang Chuan's heart.

The Huoshenshan disciple who drew his sword against him upon their first meeting had now become his closest confidant.

"No matter who's behind it all, we'll face it together."

Wu Shuang raised her chin, reverting to her usual spoiled demeanor.

"Once this broken fan comes out, the first thing I'll do is burn Gucheng's robe!"

Jiang Chuan couldn't help but laugh.

Just then, the clouds and mist within the magnificent landscape suddenly trembled violently, and a loud "bang" resounded from the outside world—Liang Maoye's wine cup fell to the ground, and the news of the prince's assassination attempt exploded like a thunderclap.

"The world is about to change."

Jiang Chuan murmured, his eyes gradually hardening. West of Longhai County, Su Wen leaped swiftly between rooftops, his black outfit almost blending into the night.

The city's protective array has been activated, and a pale golden light shield, like an inverted bowl, covers the entire city, preventing even a fly from escaping.

"Damn it!"

Su Wen landed on a roof ridge, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

He had originally intended to leave the city to seek out Master Kongchan—the Buddhist divine eye could dispel illusions, and it would be the fastest way to prove Jiang Chuan's innocence. But now…
Three muffled thuds came from the distant clock tower; it was midnight.

Su Wen took out the Heavenly Sword Token from his pocket; the patterns on the jade tablet were dull and lifeless.

This means that Senior Brother He Jie of the Sword-Wielding Hall is either not in the county town or is trapped somewhere.

"I can only rely on myself now."

Su Wen gritted his teeth, when suddenly his ears twitched slightly—there were very light footsteps coming from the alley behind him.

He calmly put away the Heavenly Sword Token, then pretended to rub his shoulders wearily.

Then he deliberately slid off the eaves and fell into a dark alley.

As he landed, he quietly formed a sword incantation with his left hand, a gentle breeze swirling around his ears.

Listening to the Wind's Whisper—this is a basic technique of the Sword-Holding Hall, yet it allows him to hear the breathing sounds within thirty feet.

"Two. No, three."

Su Wen silently counted in his mind, but pretended to stagger, looking exactly like he had exhausted his spiritual power.

He knew he was being followed; someone had been watching him ever since he left the inn.

The alley was filled with clutter, and the moonlight was fragmented by the high walls.

Su Wen suddenly stopped and began to retch against the corner of the wall, secretly holding a sword talisman between his fingers.

"Aren't you tired after following me all this way?"

He asked without turning his head, his voice exceptionally clear in the empty alley.

silence.

Su Wen sneered, his face now showing a drunken expression as he turned around.
"Did Liu Qing send you? Or are you Zhao Weiyuan's remaining followers?"

A sneer finally came from the shadows.
"Young Master Su is very perceptive, but it's a pity that clever people usually don't live long."

The shadowy figures approached from different directions. The leader wore a bronze mask, and the short knife in his hand gleamed with a blue light—a sign that it had been poisoned.

Su Wen narrowed his eyes; this attire wasn't that of an ordinary assassin, but rather...
"The secret guards of the Military Command?"

Su Wen feigned surprise.

"Zeng Xianming has been arrested, and you still dare to go out and operate?"

The masked man paused, clearly not expecting his identity to be exposed.

In that instant of hesitation, Su Wen suddenly launched an attack!
"Here comes the sword!"

The sword talisman between his fingers exploded, and a blue light, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, went straight for the enemy's throat.

At the same time, a soft sword slid out from Su Wen's sleeve, its blade trembling like a silver snake spitting its tongue.

"Ding Ding Ding!"

The clanging of metal was particularly jarring in the narrow alley.

Su Wen's soft sword was extremely cunning, with each strike aimed at the enemy's vital joints.

However, the three assassins worked together seamlessly and quickly formed an encirclement.

The air in the dark alley seemed to freeze.

Su Wen's back was pressed against the damp brick wall, his knuckles white from excessive force.

Four dark figures approached in a fan shape, each wielding a weapon that glowed with an eerie blue light—a sign that it was coated with a potent poison.

"Wind Technique: Kamaitachi!"

He suddenly clasped his hands together in a mudra, and a violent current of energy surged around him.

The azure wind swirled and coiled like a living thing, forming a perfectly round wind shield three feet away from Su Wen.

The first two short knives that rushed at us clanged against the wind wall, producing a metallic clang.

"Can't it be broken?"

The masked leader had a hoarse voice.

"Formation!"

The four instantly changed positions, and amidst the clash of swords, a kind of array pattern was faintly formed.

Su Wen's pupils contracted slightly—this was not the method of an ordinary assassin, but a combined attack technique that had undergone rigorous training!
The pressure outside the wind shield suddenly increased, and the four streams of spiritual energy were connected through the array, impacting the wind wall wave after wave.

Su Wen's forehead was covered in a fine sweat; he could feel the "Siamese Weasel's" defenses gradually crumbling.

"Click——"

A faint cracking sound sent chills down Su Wen's spine.

An almost invisible crack appeared on the wind wall, and just then, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood up—the fifth assassin!
A streak of dark light shot out from the shadows at the corner of the alley, moving so fast it was almost invisible to the naked eye.

The hidden weapon actually pierced through the weak point of the wind shield and went straight for Su Wen's back!
"Qilin Shield Armor!"

Su Wen hastily changed his move, drawing a mysterious trajectory in front of his chest with his left hand, his sword fingers pointing outwards.

A flash of blue light appeared, and a palm-sized phantom of scales barely blocked the dark light—it was a poison needle as thin as a cow's hair!

But this momentary lapse in concentration completely disrupted the wind shield. The four assassins seized the opportunity, unleashing their swords and blades, shattering the wind barrier.

"Shoot-"

As Su Wen retreated hastily, a bloody gash was still cut open on his left arm.

The burning pain instantly brought him to his senses—the poison had taken effect!

He gritted his teeth and sealed the acupoints on his left arm, while his right hand wielded a soft sword like a silver snake emerging from its hole, drawing seven streaks of sword light in the narrow alley.

"Seven Stars Pointing at the Moon!"

This is a secret close-quarters sword technique passed down by the Sword-Wielding Hall, specifically designed for confined spaces. Seven cold stars simultaneously pierced the vital points of the four men, forcing them to retreat and defend.

But Su Wen knew this was only a temporary measure—the poison was eroding his spiritual energy.

"Who sent you?"

Su Wen's sword strikes continued, but his voice carried suppressed anger.

"How much benefit did Liu Qing give you?"

The assassins' eyes were cold, and their attacks became even more ferocious.

Especially the one wielding the sword, each strike carried a chilling aura, causing a thin layer of frost to form on the surface of Su Wen's soft sword.

Su Wen felt a chill run down his spine.

These people showed no reaction when they heard Liu Qing's name. Could it be...?
Before the thought had even formed, the swordsman suddenly changed his move, thrusting his longsword straight at Su Wen's throat.

At the same time, the blades of the other three blocked all angles of evasion—a deadly situation!

"Damn it!"

Su Wen bit his tongue hard, and the intense pain temporarily suppressed the poison.

His body twisted, and he slid out of the encirclement from an unbelievable angle.

He pushed his Windwalking technique to its limit, leaving a trail of afterimages in the alleyways.

"Wind Technique: Flying Blade!"

The moment the folding fan unfolded, Su Wen took out a crimson pill from his pocket and swallowed it.

The pill burned like fire upon entering the body, and the previously stagnant spiritual energy surged instantly.

The blue light on the folding fan shone brightly, and actually condensed into a huge blue scythe phantom in mid-air!

"cut!"

The sickle swept across, cutting through the brick walls on both sides of the alley as easily as tofu.

The three assassins were cut in half at the waist before they could even scream, their blood splattering on the ruins.

The remaining swordsman managed to parry in time, but was still thrown several feet away by the aftershock. His mask shattered, revealing a scarred face.

"puff--"

Su Wen suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood.

Forcibly activating the secret technique exacerbated the spread of the poison, and the sword energy further invaded his meridians, causing his internal organs to feel like they were burning.

The swordsman wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, a ruthless glint in his eyes.

"At the end of its strength."

The longsword rose again, and this time Su Wen was powerless to dodge.

In the instant the sword was at his throat, an image of Jiang Chuan trapped in the magnificent landscape flashed through his mind—brother, this time I'm afraid I'm doomed.
"Wow, this is quite a show."

A flippant voice suddenly came from above.

The swordsman's swordplay came to an abrupt halt, as if imprisoned by an invisible force.

Su Wen struggled to lift his head and saw a ragged young man squatting on the ruins, resting his chin on his hand and looking at them with a cynical smile. (End of Chapter)