Wandering Swordsman |

Instantly, a murderous aura filled the air. Jian Yihan's eyes were like torches as he gripped his longsword tightly, his cold gaze showing no hesitation or fear.

With a deep roar, Jian Yihan charged forward. His movements were lightning fast, each sword strike precise and deadly. His figure was elusive, the tip of his sword slicing through the air, leaving trails of silver. Though the opponent's attacks were fierce, they were like child's play before Jian Yihan, each exchange ending with a scream of agony from the enemy.

The sounds of clashing blades, grinding metal, and splattering blood on the snow mingled together, creating a brutal battle symphony. Soon, those who tried to stop Jian Yihan fell one after another, their bodies leaving deep marks on the snow, turning the once pristine white surface a glaring red.

When the last person fell, only Jian Yihan remained standing on the mountain path. Looking at Li Fanglin, who had vanished from sight, a sense of powerlessness welled up within him. The cold wind howled, causing his clothes to flutter. Jian Yihan took a deep breath, then turned and headed back towards Jingtian Pavilion.

Before long, Jian Yihan returned to the central square of Jingtian Pavilion. However, the scene before him made his heart sink: everyone in the square was still poisoned, lying or sitting, groaning in pain. A suffocating atmosphere permeated the air, as if the whole world was shrouded in an invisible haze. On the training platform, Situ Dengfeng barely supported himself, his eyes filled with despair and helplessness.

Seeing Jian Yihan return, a glimmer of hope flashed in Situ Dengfeng's eyes, but it quickly faded. He understood that if Jian Yihan hadn't returned with Situ Meng, things might be worse than he imagined. Jian Yihan quickly went to Situ Dengfeng, reached out and helped him up, his movements gentle yet firm.

"Thank you for your help, Young Hero Jian." Situ Dengfeng's voice was low and hoarse, filled with gratitude, but even more so with self-blame and regret.

Jian Yihan replied in a calm but firm voice, "Senior Situ, there's no need for thanks. I am also unable to save Miss Situ, and I am very sorry."

Upon hearing this, a flicker of pain crossed Situ Dengfeng's eyes, but he quickly suppressed his grief and nodded slowly: "Young Master Jian, there's no need to blame yourself. You've done very well." He knew that Jian Yihan had done his best, and if it weren't for his timely appearance, the consequences would have been far more unimaginable.

Situ Dengfeng frowned slightly, his gaze sweeping around as if he were considering a strategy. After a moment, he spoke, "Li Fanglin and the others have clearly come prepared; they must have powerful backing. What we need to do now is to produce the antidote as soon as possible. At the same time, we must strengthen our vigilance to prevent them from attacking again."

At this moment, a voice suddenly rang out from below the training platform, breaking the silence: "Jian Yihan, everyone else is poisoned, why are you the only one who isn't?"

These words immediately drew everyone's attention, and all eyes turned warily towards Jian Yihan. The atmosphere instantly fell silent, filled with an eerie tension.

Jian Yihan remained expressionless and coldly said, "Because the people of Ghost Valley only eat one meal a day: dinner. They don't eat breakfast or lunch, so this poison must have been mixed into today's breakfast."

After Jian Yihan's words, everyone in the central square fell silent. They began to recall their breakfast that morning and realized that, as Jian Yihan had said, those who had been poisoned had all eaten breakfast that day. Those who hadn't been poisoned either hadn't eaten breakfast or, like Jian Yihan, had unusual eating habits.

Upon hearing this, Situ Dengfeng instantly understood why he had been poisoned while Situ Meng hadn't—because he had eaten breakfast that morning, while Situ Meng and Xiao Die hadn't. He felt secretly relieved, but also guilty; if he had been more careful, he might have been able to avoid this disaster.

After everyone realized what had happened, they weren't enlightened by the cause of the poisoning; instead, they were shocked by Jian Yihan's identity. He was actually from the legendary Ghost Valley, a mysterious place in the martial arts world where people only knew the name but never saw the person.

For a moment, the people in the square fell silent, their eyes filled with complex emotions—both awe and doubt.

At this moment, the questioning voice rang out again: "Jian Yihan, how can you prove you come from Guigu?"

"Hahaha, why do I need to prove it!" Before Jian Yihan could respond, suddenly, this voice resounded throughout the central square, echoing in everyone's ears.

The voice was deep and powerful, seemingly able to penetrate all obstacles and reach the depths of people's hearts. However, everyone looked around and exchanged glances, but they could not see the person who had spoken. Instantly, a suffocating sense of mystery filled the air.

As the sound echoed, a white figure, like a shooting star streaking across the night sky, gracefully leaped down from the roof of the main hall, landing steadily on the training platform in just a few bounds.

He was a seventeen or eighteen-year-old man in white. His movements were as fluid as flowing water, and every step he took seemed so unhurried, as if the whole world was making way for him.

After the man in white stepped onto the arena, he first walked to Jian Yihan's side, bowed, and said in a low voice, "Brother, I'm very sorry. I'm still a step too late." His tone was tinged with apology, but his eyes showed more trust and respect for Jian Yihan.

Jian Yihan nodded slightly, still expressionless: "Second brother, let's not talk about these meaningless things for now. Quickly use your sound skills to help everyone expel the toxins from their bodies." Jian Yihan's voice remained calm, but the power contained within it was not to be underestimated.

The man in white nodded upon hearing this, and then immediately turned around to face everyone below the training platform.

His voice was clear and powerful, as if it could penetrate everything: "Everyone here, if you don't want to die from the poison, do as I say: those who know martial arts should meditate and enter a state of deep concentration, and those who don't should wait."

These words immediately created a tense atmosphere in the central square. The poisoned martial artists exchanged glances, but quickly realized the gravity of the situation. They swiftly adjusted their breathing, sat cross-legged, closed their eyes, and began to meditate. For these martial artists, meditation was second nature, and they could do it quickly even in such a critical situation.

Seeing this, Situ Dengfeng, who was on the training platform, slowly sat down. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. He knew that at this moment, any distracting thought could affect the flow of his internal energy, thus affecting the detoxification effect.

Some people who didn't know martial arts followed the instructions, silently supporting themselves and waiting patiently. Although they were uneasy, they could only wait patiently. Their eyes were filled with expectation and trust, hoping that this mysterious man could bring a miracle.