Jianghu Love Story

Author: Bu Feixian
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: A man faces thousands of soldiers without retreating; this is the "world of martial arts." A man faces two women and cannot choose; this is also the "world of martial arts." Recommended by the gaming giant Kingsoft, the martial arts magazine "Jin Gu Qichuan," and the literary portal "Huanshan Shumeng." A classic martial arts masterpiece that shook the throne of Jin Yuchun in 2006. Four sects long at odds with each other finally join hands; nine practitioners of the blood demon soul-searching technique can only end up with one; all for maintaining the Great Five Elements Seal Demon Formation created by the ancient Flame Emperor, for the life and death of one person. Solitary Sword leaves Wudang Mountain but finds himself already "infamous"; Wu Qingbi, Xianglong, Longba, Gong Jiuyin—misunderstandings follow one after another; in the world of martial arts, for righteousness, for passion, what is abandoned is like hair, but what is gained can be so little? When the two stand side by side outside Ying City, shouldering the fate of a city's people to face a hundred thousand Jin troops, they realize that the "world of martial arts" is truly heavier than imagined. Chen Suiyun meticulously arranges the formation, for the person whose life and death is at stake for the entire nation. Yet in his heart, he only holds a hope for a girl reborn in this world, and a deep promise made to the corpse by the wall. Unknowingly, the missed chance is the most common cycle—how about that woman who "flown red with a smile," leaving the answer to fate in the most tragic moment—Emperor Gaozong of Song in the third year of Shaoxing. Early spring in March, a flock of southbound northern geese sweep across the desolate sky, leaving behind a series of mournful cries. The vast river and mountains are in turmoil. Within the Great Wall, flames rise, urgent messages fly, the banks of the Yellow River are filled with the thunder of drums and fluttering war flags, the vast land devoid of a hint of spring, only the thick aura of killing filling the sky. The blood-red sunset hangs low over the vast plains, distant green mountains dyed in an eerie purple. A hundred families remain of the thousand. Nearby villages have long been burned to the ground, the broken bricks and tiles still glowing with a glaring red light. The wind blows, and the grass bends—only then do they realize that the red light on the broken bricks is not the reflection of the setting sun but the blood of humans soaked in. The blood is shocking, and the blood-stained earth emits a heavy, sickening sweetness, making one almost vomit. Closer still, there are no broken bricks at all, only corpses scattered everywhere. Life here becomes the most humble floating grass, like reeds swaying in the wind—just as one falls, the next is crushed upon it, silently rotting in the sunset, unnoticed. This is the battlefield. The sound of horns echoes for thousands of miles in a tragic manner. Ren Changfeng grits his teeth, tearing off the rag tied to his shoulder, revealing a nearly gangrenous wound. He grits his teeth in pain but still holds back from crying out. Before his disciples, he is like an iron man, charging into the Jin army ten times, killing a thousand-man commander and eight hundred-man commanders—all fierce and fearless. But now, hiding in his sleeping quarters, treating this excessively severe wound, he wants to roar in pain and cry in sorrow. But he cannot. Because the troops he commands are down to only 131, and if even the slightest hint of retreat or cowardice is seen, their morale will surely collapse, and they will never be able to break out of this jungle. Outside the jungle are tens of thousands of Jin and pseudo-Qi troops, trapped for three days and nights. Ren Changfeng grits his teeth, pouring medicinal spring water over his wound. The moment the medicine touches the flesh, it pains him so much that he grits his teeth again. He punches his own face, deeply ashamed that he couldn't even endure this little pain. He can't help but think of his master—if only he were here, he would definitely lead them out, just as he once led himself out of hundreds of attackers. There is nothing in this world he cannot do, not even taking the head of a general in the chaos of battle. But this time, the enemy is too numerous, and Ren Changfeng has no certainty of survival. Suddenly, the curtain is lifted, and his disciple Xun He slips in. Seeing Ren Changfeng washing his wound, Xun He quickly rushes over, takes the ladle from his hand. Together, they finally clean the wound and bandage it with new cloth. Xun He doesn't leave, looking at Ren Changfeng, hesitating to speak. Ren Changfeng frowns and says, "If you have something to say, just say it. If not, go back to sleep and rest for tomorrow's battle!" Xun He still hesitates, but finally, as if he can no longer hold back, he stutters, "Master—"