The Hidden Immortal

Chapter 82 Long Time No See

Looking at the four characters for "water" on the Xuan paper, Tang Shijun raised his eyebrows slightly.

Someone has been here.

But I didn't see it.

He's an elderly man in his sixties, and he's only practiced a few fancy exercises for fitness a few times; he can't be considered a master.

However, the guards around him were genuine second-rank military officers.

If even a second-rank martial artist couldn't detect him, what kind of formidable figure must he be?

But it seems they have no ill intentions towards me; they seem more like they've come to help.

Tang Shijun searched his mind for possible people, wondering who would help someone who was destined to die at a time like this.

"Jing Heng?" Tang Shijun thought for a moment and sighed slightly.

"I hope you didn't invite them, otherwise it could be troublesome."

Outside the mansion, Chu Xun stood on a willow branch, lifeless, like a withered branch devoid of vitality.

Although it wasn't raining inside, one could sense Tang Shijun's emotions through the pervasive moisture.

There was no panic, no fear, only a slight doubt.

Ok?

Where does this displeasure come from?

Time passed slowly, and due to the continuous rain, there were far fewer people on the streets.

Occasionally, a few passersby would hold up oil-paper umbrellas, carefully rolling up their trouser legs to avoid the mud and water.

But the water splashed up by his heel splashed all over half of his leg.

He glanced at it with his legs bent, cursed the heavens under his breath, and continued walking dejectedly.

It gets even quieter here after nightfall.

The rain has stopped.

One after another, figures emerged from all directions, heading towards the residence of the Minister of Revenue.

Through the willow leaves, Chu Xun saw those warriors who were no less skilled than Song Jingmin.

The most skilled martial artist in Zhangnan County is just another face in the crowd here, completely inconspicuous.

Chu Xun's eyes were calm, yet concealed a hint of doubt.

In a place like Kyoto, where the murderous aura is so palpable, how dare they?

This is tantamount to openly and legitimately assassinating a high-ranking official of the second rank. Aren't they afraid of being executed along with their entire family?

Soon, these people arrived outside the residence of the Minister of Revenue.

The guards and warriors had already noticed and were on high alert.

The two sides have already fought once, and when they meet again, they will be at odds.

Perhaps knowing that today's battle was likely to end badly, two first-rank martial artists with graying temples also emerged from the side room.

The bald, burly man on the wall boomed in a muffled, thunderous voice: "Finally, you've stopped being a coward."

The others followed him, jumping off the wall and walking forward.

Without any unnecessary words, they struck first and killed.

Although the two first-rank martial artists who were leading the charge were formidable, they were no match for the combined strength of the four opponents and quickly found themselves at a disadvantage.

Standing on the willow tree, Chu Xun silently assessed the strength of this martial artist through the mist.

He is far superior to Song Jingmin.

But they can also be killed.

The man, who resembled a long-armed ape, wielded two curved swords, each about a meter long, which he turned like wheels in his hands.

He combined his twin swords, repelling his opponent, and sneered, "That's all you've got."

The martial artist who was forced back had blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Although he had no external injuries, at this level, he relied on his internal energy to penetrate the body and strike from a distance.

He had already suffered serious internal injuries, and said in a muffled voice, "Aren't you afraid of dying if you try to assassinate the Minister?"

The long-armed man did not answer the question; the ferocity on his face grew even more distorted. He only wanted to kill.

Kill those who are just as powerful as yourself!

But the one in front of me is not as good as myself.

waste!

Just then, the long-armed man's knife-wielding arm stopped.

Looking over in astonishment, they saw that several water ropes had somehow entangled them.

Before he could speak, another water rope tightened around his neck, and dozens of water spikes viciously stabbed towards his eyes, mouth, nose, heart, and groin.

"What is this!" The ape-like man looked horrified, twirling his curved blade in his palm before slashing at the water rope.

The seemingly fragile water rope possesses extraordinary resilience.

Even after being cut open, it still firmly bound the body.

You can't cut water with a knife; the water just keeps flowing. A mundane knife can't sever this resilience.

The water rope tightened continuously, making it impossible for him to breathe.

Although the vitality of a first-rank martial artist is strong, as the saying goes, they will also die.

The water cones pierced my body, making a clanging sound that sent shivers down my spine.

It seemed like it couldn't hurt anyone, but in reality, it was so shocked it almost vomited blood.

The long-armed man instinctively wanted to call for help, but a glance out of the corner of his eye revealed that others were doing the same.

They were all bound by water ropes, and countless water spikes pierced them.

The less likely I am to die, the more painful it is.

The soil beneath my feet suddenly became incredibly soft.

Like sinking into quicksand, constantly sinking.

If water can't kill them, then just bury them alive.

Such a miraculous method terrified the guards and warriors of the Minister's mansion, who involuntarily looked around but could see nothing.

The attacker was already half-buried.

Tang Shijun frowned as he watched from inside the house, as if having someone's help was not necessarily a good thing.

They saw that all the attacking assassins were bound and unable to break free.

He shook his head, walked out of the house, cupped his hands and said, "I don't know who this master is, please stop."

Chu Xun, perched on the willow tree, paused, "Stop?"

The guards and two first-rank martial artists who followed were puzzled. Wouldn't it be a sign of womanly compassion to stop now?

When Lord Tang was measuring land and cleaning up household registers, he killed many officials and local tyrants who refused to cooperate.

At that time, Tang Shijun didn't even blink.

Now that life and death are at stake, why are you backing down?

Chu Xun didn't know what Tang Shijun was going to do, but since he said it that way, there must be a reason.

After a moment's thought, he jumped down from the willow tree and took a few steps to the back of the house.

His skills in controlling the earth and sky became increasingly proficient, and he merged into the wall, passing through it with ease.

Before Tang Shijun could lower his clasped hands, the water stains on the ground quickly receded, leaving behind two muddy characters: "Enter the house."

Tang Shijun couldn't help but sigh, "He truly is a hermit."

I've never even heard of this method of dispelling water invisibly.

Seeing the mud characters disappear, Tang Shijun turned to the guards and said, "You all wait here. Do not enter without my order."

The guards also saw the mud characters on the ground and knew that a master was here, so they quickly agreed.

Turning around and looking at the group of experts who were bound by water ropes and trapped in the mud, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved.

"A remarkable person intervened; it seems Lord Tang's life was not meant to end!"

If they weren't afraid of offending the master by taking action without permission, they would have liked to take the opportunity to kill these assassins directly.

The previous night, our side suffered heavy casualties, all of which were the work of these thieves!

Tang Shijun entered the room and closed the door. He then saw an elderly man with white hair standing by the desk, admiring his calligraphy and paintings by candlelight.

Tang Shijun walked over, cupped his hands in greeting, and asked, "May I ask your name, esteemed sir, and where you come from?"

Chu Xun's gaze shifted from the calligraphy and painting to Tang Shijun.

After being transferred from Fenggu City to Mingxiu Prefecture, the two never saw each other again, only occasionally exchanging letters.

Most of the time, Huan'er would relay the message.

Today, when we meet again, you have a full head of white hair and are in your twilight years.

Strangely, there was no sense of unfamiliarity.

Chu Xun smiled faintly and cupped his hands in greeting: "Lord Tang, how have you been?"

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