He Lan Tianxia

There was no other choice. After a moment of blankness, Murong Junlan made a resolute decision.

"Hold on tight." After giving this instruction, he flicked his right hand to the left, sending the two people below flying into the air like weights. The two Snow Swords clattered twice and pierced the rocks of the cliff. Then, with lightning speed, Murong Junlan stepped on the hilts of the two swords and did another 360-degree turn, turning the two people below onto the other side of the cliff, leaving the two Snow Swords gleaming eerily against the rock face.

Murong Junlan was just about to catch his breath when the woman below pressed him relentlessly. With a sinister laugh, she kicked off with both feet, and the hanging man spun back around.

"Kick her out."

Murong Junlan loudly reminded Yan'er that as long as she kicked off that burden, saving Yan'er wouldn't be difficult. Yan'er, who was dizzy from being spun around, had her feet held by the woman and couldn't kick them off no matter how hard she tried, while the woman was still restlessly trying to roll back to her previous position.

Due to gravity, the thin rope in Murong Junlan's hand became uncontrollable, swinging back to its original position like a pendulum. To make matters worse, due to inertia, the rope swung back at twice the speed it had before. With the restless woman below constantly thrashing about, Murong Junlan had completely lost control of the rope's direction.

"Snap." Murong Junlan let go. Rather than let the Twin Snow Swords split them apart, Murong Junlan would rather die with Yan'er on the cliff. Having a woman below would also reduce the impact.

Murong Junlan's sudden release startled the woman below, causing her to break out in a cold sweat. Although she had prepared for a final retreat, this sudden drop had truly terrified her. Did you think she wasn't afraid of death? It was just that the heat of the moment had affected her mind, and now that she had been hanging for so long, her limbs were starting to tremble.

Murong Junlan's loosening of his grip startled Yan'er in the middle. Her dazed mind was jolted back to normal by the sudden emptiness, and she exclaimed excitedly to Murong Junlan above:

"My husband, save Yan'er."

Just as Prince Murong was resigning himself to fate and preparing to commit suicide for love, he heard a long-lost celestial sound. His soul seemed to awaken as if in the depths of hell, and he was overjoyed, feeling as if he had grasped a lifeline. To prove he wasn't imagining things, he shouted loudly to Yan'er:

"My beloved concubine, have you remembered me?"

"Your Highness, save Yan'er! My husband, save Yan'er!" Yan'er repeated loudly.

"Ha...ha..." Murong Junlan suddenly burst into laughter, laughing so hard that the prince forgot all his composure and dignity. Just then, the thin rope carrying the three people moved to the sharp blade of the Double Snow Sword, and Murong Junlan regretted it.

Why do they always try to commit suicide together whenever they remember each other? At this moment, the only thing he can do is try to fall first so that his beloved concubine can fall on him, which might save her life.

Huh, why isn't it moving? Murong Junlan carefully and slowly raised his head to look up. The thin rope was stopped by a protruding convex surface at the edge of the sword blade.

Suffocation. Murong Junlan carefully exhaled, his eyes like a cheetah in the night. How he wished those eyes could also develop a sword-destroying technique to kick those two swords away. He remembered, weren't his feet free? Suddenly, he did a backflip, lifting his left hand and kicking his feet towards the two Snow Swords.

Clang. The twin snow swords were sent flying.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Murong Junlan exerted force with his left hand, and the three of them moved up two feet. Just as Murong Junlan exerted force for the second time, the Twin Snow Swords, which had fallen off the cliff, suddenly spun back up with an eerie force, their momentum much sharper and more ferocious than before.

To dodge the Twin Snow Swords, Murong Junlan had no choice but to release the thin rope again and descend to his original position. The Twin Snow Swords missed their mark, circled around, and thrust at him again. One moment it was his left hand, the next his right, constantly changing, which terrified Yan'er once more.

Hearing Murong Junlan's constant words of comfort, the two snow swords were wielded even faster and more erratically. Murong Junlan sensed the woman's madness. Only the rocks beside the cliff could see the woman's almost insane eyes and the ferocious expression hidden beneath her fake face.

After the Twin Snow Swords had been used more than ten times, Murong Junlan was indeed about to give up. He was holding onto the thin rope with his left hand and the two women with his other hand. The two swords were still flying around wildly. If it weren't for his profound internal strength, he would have fallen off the cliff long ago.

Murong Junlan suddenly raised his voice and shouted down, "My beloved consort, I can't hold on any longer. Look at me, my beloved consort, I love you!" As soon as he finished speaking, the thin rope snapped, and the two people below plummeted like kites with broken strings…

what.

Yan'er opened her eyes again. Before her were still cliffs, but the woman below was gone. She slowly looked up and saw those tired but loving and tender eyes. They understood each other's deep affection without needing to say a word.

Murong Junlan smiled at Yan'er, a pure and innocent smile like that of a child, utterly endearing.

A gust of wind blew, waking the two lovers still hanging on the cliff. Murong Junlan awoke and quickly shortened the rope, pulling Yan'er's hand back up. After all the commotion, Murong Junlan had flipped and turned three or four times before finally getting himself and Yan'er to the top of the cliff. He figured the woman below wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon, so he collapsed on the ground, exhausted. Murong Junlan reached out and pulled the still-shaken Yan'er into his arms, stroking her pale face, filled with guilt. He kissed her forehead tenderly, then held her head tightly to his chest; only he knew the depth of fear within his strong heartbeat.

"Your Highness, how do you know that woman will let go on her own?"

"I like it when you call me husband." Murong Junlan stroked Yan'er's hair and said with lingering fear, "Actually, I have no confidence at all. I'm gambling."

"A bet?" Yan'er turned her head to look at the handsome face that was so close yet so far, and stroked it tenderly.

“Yes. We were gambling.” Murong Junlan’s voice was magnetic and pleasant, low, as if the thrilling moment just now was just a story. “I think that woman was after me. I can’t figure out what I did to offend her. When you called me husband just now, I could clearly feel her unhappiness. She kept controlling the Twin Snow Swords to stab at me, all with the aim of separating us. So, I deliberately said that I couldn’t hold on any longer so she would believe me. Sure enough, she let go.”

"She probably died after falling?" A woman gave up for her husband, and Yan'er felt a pang of sadness, but her kind heart still felt that the woman's death was rather tragic.

"probably not."

"Such a high cliff..."

“She shouldn’t die.” Murong Junlan patted the person in his arms. “At the cliff, I felt uncomfortable. She still had the strength to wield the Twin Snow Swords so skillfully that it proved that she was quite skilled. A skilled person should have been able to choose to escape at that time, but she didn’t. No one in the world would be willing to risk their life unless they are a fool. She is not. She is just a madwoman.”

Yan'er listened, seemingly understanding but not quite. Murong Junlan gently patted her back and said with a sigh of relief, "I should thank her. You finally remembered your husband. I'm a little tired and need to rest for a while." After saying that, Murong Junlan fell asleep.

The mountain breeze blew gently, allowing the weary warriors of this martial world to pause their fierce battles for a moment.

……

Murong Junlan returned to Anqiao Temple with Yan'er at sunset. The abbot had already been driven away by Hong Xiuying, and a few of the abbot's confidants had escaped. Most of the martial monks were loyal to the abbot, but they were forced to submit to the abbot's tyranny. The slaves and children trapped in the dry well were sent home by Jiang Heluo Xie and the others. When Murong Junlan and Yan'er returned, the abbot and the others were worried about who would become the sect leader. After all, the abbot and the old man were getting old and had been poisoned by the abbot. Xiao Yezi was originally a candidate to be trained as the abbot, but he was too young. Although he had good potential in martial arts, he was not suitable for the important task.

At Murong Junlan's suggestion, Hong Xiuying was temporarily appointed as the abbot of Anqiao Temple and also taught martial arts to the children of the county in order to enhance security and defense capabilities. Hong Xiuying's husband, Zhong Ziqi, taught culture at the temple. Anqiao Temple was placed under the direct management of the county magistrate. Upon hearing this, the county magistrate gave Murong Junlan a thumbs up and admired him immensely.

Everything was arranged, except for three people: Young Master Bai, his assistant shopkeeper, and Ling Yi. Where did they go?