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CDCN Chapter 3.1

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Chapter 3.1

Despite hearing the horses’ hooves approaching and seeing the goshawk swooping down from above, Zong Luo remained unusually calm.

When misfortune depends on blessing, and blessing lies in the misfortune. What’s going to happen must be a blessing and not a disaster, however, the upcoming casualty would really be inevitable to escape from.

(t/n misfortune depends on the blessing, and the blessing lies in the misfortune-Fortune and misfortune are not absolute, they are interdependent and can be transformed into each other. A metaphor that bad things can lead to good results, and good things can lead to bad results.)

—As long as Yu Beizhou comes, it will be no good. 

Who made him the favorite protagonist of the book “Can Drink a Cup of Nothing”? 

That is, everything revolved around him, everyone adored him, and he’s the center of the world within the novel.

Even if he were to run into him on an ordinary day, Zong Luo would not dismiss it as a casual coincidence.

If it hadn’t been for the little change in plans, he would have begun to suspect that there may have been an error with his fake death plot a year earlier, causing Yu Beizhou to receive the news ahead of his arrival. He’d then rush back to the capital and see him with an unpleasant expression.

After hating each other for years, Zong Luo believed that he could really do it. 

Zong Luo simply gave out a breath of relief because he knew no one had caught on about his whimsical scheme that year. There was just truly such a coincidence in the world. He who wishes to avoid him will not be able to do so indefinitely. There’s nothing he can do if they happen to meet each other.

While contemplating, the sound of horses’ hooves also stopped.

The handsome young man in red leaned forward against the black iron horse bit with one hand, tilted his head, and stared down. His gaze sweeping over the inch of white fabric that covered the other man’s eyes. His phoenix eyes squinted indistinctly, looking both attractive and arrogant.

Before the commander could say which one of the Confucian scholars was the owner of Qixing Long Yuan, Yu Beizhou spoke lazily first.

“Oh? Are you the Third Prince who came back from the dead from the commander’s mouth?”

Duan Junhao silently closed his mouth.

(t/n Duan Junhao=Lord Duan)

Zong Luo adjusted his expression, neither modest nor conceited, and made a salute when the inquisitive gaze turned to him. “The King had seen this lowly person. What the King said, this lowly person must not accept.”

Yu Beizhou, this fellow, surely must have already recognized him. 

The person that knows the other most in the world was always the adversary.

Zong Luo and Yu Beizhou had been hostile with each other for many years, and they have long known each other’s bottom line. It was no exaggeration to say that even if Yu Beizhou turned to ashes, Zong Luo would still recognize him, and vice versa.

Furthermore, when returning to the Great Yuan after a year, Zong Luo had no intention of hiding his identity. He did not even make the slightest disguise on his face. As for pretending to be amnesiac and pretending to be blind, those were all foreshadowing he laid for himself. He merely hoped that Duan Junhao would go back to report that the Third Prince, who had been believed to be dead, had reappeared amnesiac and blind.

He had just simply covered his eyes with a piece of cloth, yet it’s strange how Yu Beizhou kept on pretending not to know it was him.

Duan Junhao’s palm was cold with sweat as he hurriedly introduced the blind gentleman after the King of Beining remained silent. “This Young Master is the master of Qixing Long Yuan, a respected Confucianist guest, who was gravely injured a few years ago and became not only blind, but also amnesic. Your Royal Highness, you see……?”

Yu Beizhou suddenly raised the corner of his mouth and laughed loudly, startling the black crows perched above the city wall.

After a while, he finally stopped laughing and sat upright, with a look of subtle excitement. “Looks a bit the same.” 

Duan Junhao breathed a sigh of relief.

Along with that sigh, those doubts resurfaced again.

If he’s really the Third Prince, then why…?

Duan Junhao’s breath had not been fully released when the King of Beining suddenly leaped upward from the corner of his eyes. He flew off his horse like a dragon, and crimson afterimages quickly flashed. A tremendous gust of wind was rushing directly at the blind young gentleman.

The incoming palm strike was violent and cold, and an undisguised killing intent was undoubtedly present.

It was clearly a lethal move.

At the same time, the goshawk in the sky also screamed and swooped down.

“Brother Luo!”

In addition to being shocked, before the words were finished, Gu Ziyuan was pushed away by Zong Luo.

Zong Luo abruptly pivoted sideways, his boots stepping on the ray of light cast by the sinking sunset on the maple leaves, and expertly avoided the cold palm strike. He swiftly returned to parry, meeting him palm to palm, and reacted as quickly as thunder.

Even though he couldn’t even see, Zong Luo could identify where Yu Beizhou was merely by listening to the sounds he’s making. Furthermore, there was no lack of training in jumping away from thorns and spikes while blindfolded, which was considered an advanced drill when mastering martial arts in the Ghost Valley.

Two figures, one white and one red, had traded countless blows with their bare hands in front of the city gate in that short amount of time. Ordinary people couldn’t perceive their movements clearly, and the garrison guarding the entrance also didn’t dare to step forward to stop them.

The first to leave its owner’s waist was Qixing Long Yuan.

In the end, his vision was still limited. The opponent was also pressing him step by step with strong moves with no intentions of holding back. Zong Luo had no choice but to take half a step back, and the silver scabbard shone with cold light as it swept through the opponent, like a fragrant peach blossom being broken off at the end of a sharp sword.

Before the actual unsheathed sword came in contact, its intent was felt first. The goshawk let out a loud cry and was swept back into the air. 

Tai’ A, the sword of the person in red, approached silently, about to deflect Zong Luo’s own sword. 

Tai’ A was different from Qixing Long Yuan, whose body was silver and white. This sword’s body was a dark crimson, as if it reflected an eerie blood tint. According to legend, when Tai’ A was forged, sacrificed human individuals were required and tossed into the furnace. It was the Great Wilderness’ most infamous evil weapon. As it drew near, intense cold could be felt that was barely manageable.

Closing on each other, the dark red and the silver white swords were pressed together, and their owners’ breaths were also intertwined.

Yu Beizhou leaned closer and in a voice that only the two of them could hear, chuckled, like a sigh sinking into his lips and teeth, whispered,

“…You’re finally back, Senior Martial Brother.”

Really this mad dog that doesn’t play according to common sense!

Zong Luo’s face sank like water.

Qixing Long Yuan slid to the side at a tricky angle, the long hair that was tied up was lifted up by the sharp action, stabbed diagonally in front of Yu Beizhou, and touched the white fur on his left shoulder.

Yet when the hilt of the scabbard didn’t push forward, Zong Lou realized something and he sighed in his heart.

The scabbards of both swords rested on each other’s left shoulders. 

This time, it can only be regarded as a draw.

Before the people around them could react, this sudden competition was over.

That alone was enough to shock everyone.

Who doesn’t know that the King of Beining was a student of the Ghost Valley? The vigorous sweeping wind palm strike was enough to finish off someone yet it was parried by the other and even won a draw with the fiercely famous King of Beining who had experienced a hundred battles, while being blind. This “Gu Lou” Confucian disciple undeniably possessed an equally extraordinary swordsmanship skills.

The tip of the scabbard resting on Zong Luo’s left shoulder began to move dangerously downward.

From the young man’s thin shoulder line, Beizhou slid it to the position of his heart, pressed it ambiguously, and then slowly moved to the beautifully curved jaw before the other party got angry. 

To this, Zong Luo’s reaction was to press the scabbard directly to Yu Beizhou’s throat, without hesitation.

Although neither of them drew their swords, they both pointed their scabbards at each other’s lifeline. A slight change would result in one thousand injuries to the enemy and eight hundred to themselves.

(t/n killing a thousand enemies and losing eight hundred- It means that if you fight head-to-head with others, it is not only the enemy who suffers heavy losses, but in actuality, both parties will suffer losses.)

Feeling Qixing Long Yuan’s killing intent, the pair of black jade-like irises immediately lit up, like a child who just recovered his favorite toy, as if there wasn’t a sword pointing at his throat.

Even if he can’t see it, Zong Luo can feel the gaze of the other person. Like a cold-blooded animal waiting for an opportunity to crawl in the dark. The heat in his body was rising steadily, and it still felt creepy and exceedingly uncomfortable even with the layers of fabric covering his eyes.

Zong Luo: “…”

After transmigrating inside the book for too long, he forgot that Yu Beizhou was actually a masochist pervert.

He gets thrilled when he sees blood. Pain and murderous aura were both pleasurable sensations for him.

After hesitating for a moment, he took the lead in withdrawing his hand, hung the sword back on his waist, and said lightly. “This lowly individual doesn’t know why the King suddenly struck. He had no choice but to defend. Please take no offense.” 

The smile on Yu Beizhou’s lips widened, and hypocritically replied, “Where, I haven’t seen this Qixing Long Yuan for a long time. I got excited when I saw it, I gave it a try. Gentleman, don’t take it to heart.” 

He was born good-looking, with a face like a bright moon, and crimson lips. The flamboyant red clothes made his eyebrows and eyes more beautiful, and the ends of his eyes were faint red due to Zong Luo’s killing intent. He looked  like a ghost crawling out of a coffin to seduce people’s souls.

Now, if this gossip was said, Yu Beizhou’s long and narrow phoenix would only curve slightly and he would smile lazily. There was no sense of formality at all, and it only made people feel like a rambunctious teenager who didn’t grow up. 

Precisely like an enchanting and sinful demon’s face.

Zong Luo took back his sword, but he didn’t. The words coming out of his lips were only said on a whim. Instead, the Tai’A under the opponent’s chin gently moved, forcing Zong Luo to lift his head towards him.

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