Chapter 23: To Parry and Subdue the Fealty Jade Sword

Lao Mei scratched irritably at his head, his face filled with awkwardness.

His young master who had barely seen the passing of nineteen summers had just called him, an aged man, naive! It was preposterous and laughable.

Nonetheless, Lao Mei could clearly feel it; if he were to compare himself to his young master, he did seem to lack wisdom and knowledge of the world's workings. He had not noticed it in his earlier years. He was aware that his young master was mysterious at times and worked hard at keeping his martial arts skills concealed. Whenever they were together, Yun Yang somehow always managed to look idle and indolent. His master would frequently vanish as well, his disappearances lasting for months on end.

However, since he had returned home a year ago, he had never left again.

Lao Mei's instincts as a martial artist were sufficiently sensitive to inform him that his young master had borne serious injuries, and had lost his cultivation base as well. Those wounds were grievous enough to threaten his life, yet his young master didn't seem to mind them at all.

Even now, he still appeared to be listless and lethargic. It was only during the late hours of the night that Lao Mei could see his young master sitting alone from afar, and catch sight of the despair and loneliness he carried within him, reflected in the desolate glow of his eyes. He knew then that the young master carried the burden of secrecy in his heart. Lao Mei did not dare to ask about it; even if he did, he was certain that he would glean nothing from his young master.

Despite all appearances, a mighty force seemed to swirl around Yun Yang, and it had been gathering force. It was a raging, murderous aura that would set the world ablaze, and of late, it had only gotten stronger.

In a sudden flash of comprehension, Lao Mei saw that his young master's prescience had been accurate beyond his wildest imaginations. It seemed that there was nothing that he did not foresee, and no dilemma he could not solve, just like a game of chess.

A chess player who was able to predict the next three or four turns would be considered a formidable opponent, but his young master was able to see an additional dozen steps ahead, and that too wasn't sufficient for him. In the year that had passed since his master had returned, there were many underlying motives behind his actions, but Lao Mei was unable to decipher any of them.

Young master says that I'm naïve... Perhaps, I really am?

I wonder what sort of ploy would my young master use to compel this man, now lying injured in the east side room?

...

"These five cats..." Lao Mei looked at the five snowy kittens trailing behind Yu Yang and coughed as his hand reached for his beard.

He had taken only a day off and the residence had turned into a zoo overnight.

"Just consider them as... Lightning Cats." Yun Yang said, "They're rather adorable."

"Adorable..." The word seemed odd coming from the young master whom he had deemed 'scheming' in his heart; Lao Mei suddenly felt that his perspective and views on life, values, and the world had turned upside down. The Thousand Illusion Monkey was sitting on Yun Yang's shoulder. The little simian had been practically glued to him for the past few days but had grown a little less lively as well.

Furthermore, as long as the four kittens were below him, the Thousand Illusion Monkey refused to get down from its perch. Its eyes were alert; if it were not for the monkey's reluctance to leave Yun Yang, it would have run away ages ago.

The friction arising from the level difference. Even though it was only a single level, it had made the Thousand Illusion Monkey feel threatened, a fact that escaped the attention of everyone present.

Yun Yang had examined the four Eclipse Panthers, one of them was already in the fourth level while another two were in the third level; the weakest one had also managed to achieve the second level.

These little felines were clearly Blood Masked. It was the greatest act of love a high-level mystical beast could perform for its offspring - using its blood to obscure their true nature, making them appear to be weak, insignificant mystical beasts in the eyes of others. It was a mechanism that would guarantee their safety, and ensure that no harm came to them before they had achieved maturity.

However, Blood Mask could only be cast by ninth level mystical beasts - Yun Yang was certain of this. In this aspect, he was of a similar mindset with the parents of the brood, both reluctant to remove the Blood Mask. Once the Blood Mask had dissipated, it would be obvious to anyone with eyes that there were four ninth level mystical beast infants railing behind Yun Yang like lost ducklings. With his abilities still pathetically absent, he wasn't sure if he could even survive out there for two hours.

"For your own longevity, you fellows can continue to be cats." Yun Yang stroked the four Eclipse Panthers' heads, four tiny pink tongues flicking out to chase after his palm.

The real Lightning Cat mewled anxiously as it had not fully recovered and could only curl up on its side, unable to catch Yun Yang's attention.

Yun Yang chuckled, "Right, there's still one more here." He stroked the Lightning Cat's head as well, the kitten purring in contentment as it showed its snow-white belly. As usual, flows of the air of vitality permeated the air; the ground was soon filled with snow-white balls rolling around in joy. The Thousand Illusion Monkey made impatient noises on his shoulder; Yun Yang could only direct another flow over to it, stopping quickly when he realized the pitiful amount left of his Endless Divine spiritual Qi. Despite the minute amount, the Thousand Illusion Monkey was content. It hopped off his shoulder and fled towards Ji Ling's room.

Yun Yang suddenly felt a sharp gaze train on him. As he turned, he saw a head popping up at the window of the east side room; a pair of eyes staring daggers in his direction.

Yun Yang laughed and turned to begin his walk to the injured man.

...

The man had already sat up and was leaning against the bed. He forced a smile when he saw Yun yang entering the room.

Yun Yang observed that the man's hair was not as messy as it was yesterday when he was still unconscious. He had obviously tidied it up. Even though it was just a simple smoothing down of stray strands, it was apparent that this man took care of his appearance. Yun Yang also realized that his hands were impeccably clean. For someone who had just woken up from such serious injuries, there was not even a speck of dirt between his nails.

"Could you... help me wipe my face?" It was the first words the man had uttered after he smiled at Yun Yang upon their first meeting. "Cold water will suffice."

Yun Yang nodded, "Certainly."

He went out to bring in a basin of cold water and soaked a towel before wringing it and placing it on the man's face. When the moisture had almost evaporated, he took it off and dipped the towel in the water once more before placing it on his face again. After five cycles of this did Yun Yang use a corner of the towel to wipe his face. The man remained calm throughout the entire process.

"You are very young." He said quietly, "Yet, you know how to administer to people. I hear the man calling you young master, which means you are not one accustomed to taking care of others, and still you appear to be extremely comfortable with it."

"This is Tiantang City. This is a large residence but there aren't many people, I don't see any maids or guards around. I heard a female voice addressing you as Yun Yang."

This man continued, "Would you be the young master of Tiantang City's Marquis Yun? Yun Yang? As a young master of a marquis, how would you know how to take care of somebody?" the man asked.

Yun Yang continued to wipe his face for him as he spoke lightly, "You, on the other hand, are not young. Although you've been badly injured and lay near death, you only look to be about forty years old but I place your real age at eighty or higher. In the mortal realm, an eighty-year-old man would be considered aged. By looking at your cultivation base, however, you are definitely in your prime. It is not often that an ordinary mortal exhibits such curiosity."

"Moreover, you emphasize cleanliness and put stock in your appearance. Even if you die, you'd want to depart in a clean state. People like you are few and far in between."

"You took the greatest care of your hands," Yun Yang wrung the towel and continued, "Even though you've been comatose for a long time and your nails have grown their natural course, they are still very neat. It seems that you've paid them the most attention, seeing as to how you trim them regularly..."

"The inner side of your right thumb and the inner side of your left index finger are both softer than the other parts of your hands. Under normal circumstances, this is where force will usually be exerted. If you were a martial artist, regardless of whether you were practicing with a sword or saber, it will be callused; but yours is not. It isn't even because it has never been callused but due to the overall cleansing of spirit and meridians upon reaching a certain level of cultivation. The blood and bones of the weakest parts were healed first, that's why it is much softer."

"Your left index finger and middle finger show no traces of using force, it's obvious that your left hand is used to make sword incantation gestures; you've never practiced any other form of martial arts or else there would definitely be signs of them."

"You are an individual of power, used to dealing with people of a higher position. Your words are sharp as you speak them."

"You are, therefore, a swordsman."

"Your left shoulder has the look of being perpetually raised, and the back of it has the impression of being pressed on for years, so your sword is not worn on the hip but always carried on your left shoulder. This position must be the optimal position for you to unsheathe your sword."

"You have turned half of the cultivated mystical Qi in your body into sword Qi." Yun Yang continued, "So you are nothing else other than your sword."

"Your gaze is sharp, a habit picked up from constantly staring at the point of a sword - staring at the point of your sword when you practice, to be exact. Thus, even if you're not using a sword or holding one in your hands, you still exude an intimidating aura, grievously critical injuries notwithstanding. Your eyes are clear and impartial, it goes to show that you are not a despicable man who would do anything to get what he wants."

"You do not have your sword on your person, and the part between your right thumb and index finger is badly torn with broken bones. I would hazard a guess that your sword has been broken as well. No sword and you refuse to reveal your identity, of which I am unable to accurately derive."

"You use a sword and have never practiced other forms of martial arts; you carry a sword yet how you unsheathe and apply it is unusual. You are impartial, you don't rob or steal. You pay attention to cleanliness and appearance; you live within your means. You are a proponent in the martial arts world, yet you don't belong to any nation; you don't appear to be an assassin, but your abilities are simply astounding." Yun Yang thought and said, "From the little knowledge I possess, there are three people who are like you."

The man appeared to be pleasantly astonished he asked, "Which three?"

"One of them is already deceased." Yun Yang replied, "If you were he, I would have recognized you even if you had turned into ashes; the other is a legend, a peak expert. Experts like that would not even have gotten himself injured as you did."

"You, on the other hand, hobnob with mystical beasts."

"That leaves only one identity that fits you." Yun Yang smiled, "Do I have the pleasure of addressing the renowned mystical beast hunter, Fealty Jade Sword Fang Mofei, otherwise known as Old Sir Fang?"

The man on bed stared wildly in disbelief, looking at Yun Yang as if he had seen a ghost. He had always thought himself a nondescript man. Being a solitary individual, he had always come and gone on his own terms, had few acquaintances, and always felt that not many people would be able to recognize him.

Yet somehow this youth who sat in front of him and whom he had never met, had easily determined his identity purely through observation. Even though he had been unable to reshape his visage as a result of his severe injuries, he was certain that the youth had not examined him prior to this, and had made a spontaneous decision to observe and analyze even as he spoke. Although the contents of his speech were unorganized and repetitive at some points, he was ultimately correct in his assessment.

This was simply incredible. Fang Mofei never knew that he carried upon himself so many telling signs! He did know, however, that the youth had only spoken at length because Fang Mofei had deduced his identity first; it was a deliberate parry to an initial sword thrust.

Fang Mofei had intended to browbeat this seemingly inexperienced young man with his over and complex deductive prowess in unmasking his identity. He had hoped to build a position of superiority through his craftiness, and ensure that he could continue to stay here and heal his wounds.

Not only had he failed miserably in his efforts, the latter had retaliated and completely subdued him!