Chapter 104 Day 26 of Transmigrating into a Wuxia Novel

Chapter 104: The Twenty-Sixth Day of Transmigrating into a Martial Arts Novel

Meanwhile, An Yi and Ling Fengyao had long since blended into the crowd of onlookers on the distant hillside—a vast throng of wandering martial artists and small-to-medium sect disciples who had gathered upon hearing the news.

The place was packed with people buzzing with chatter, perfect for staying hidden.

Ling Fengyao watched with amusement, nudging An Yi with his elbow and lowering his voice to chuckle. "Hey, this insult exchange is more entertaining than any storyteller at the teahouse! Ayi, your old man's no slouch with words either."

An Yi smiled but before he could respond, Ling Fengyao’s voice rang out again.

Ling Fengyao’s gaze fixed on the front row of young disciples from the Righteous Alliance. He gestured for An Yi to look. "Hey, look who it is?"

At the head of the Skyward Sect formation, Yan Yu stood in tight-fitting combat gear, his posture tall and straight, hand gripping his sword hilt—his expression more complicated than ever before.

His lips were pressed tight, eyes locked on the direction of the Fuyi Sect, as if desperately searching for something. Clearly, he hadn’t spotted the figure among the front rank of disciples, which brought him both relief and greater unease.

Ling Fengyao curled his lip, a tinge of sourness in his tone. "Hmph, that fool boy actually came to the front line. Look at him, straining his eyes like he's looking for something."

An Yi let his gaze rest on Yan Yu for a moment before looking away. "He went back specifically to fight."

The tension of the standoff was like a drawn bowstring—both sides hurled sharp words and venomous insults, yet neither made a move.

In the midst of this exchange of insults, a particularly caustic voice rang out from the ranks of the Righteous Alliance. It came from a tall, gaunt middle-aged man with a goatee—known throughout the jianghu for his venomous tongue and well-informed nature, the "All-Knowing" Bao Zhidao.

Bao Zhidao stroked his beard, deliberately raising his voice, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the Fuyi Sect formation. In a sarcastic tone, he said:

"Well, well! How strange! Lord An Da, I heard that your precious Young Master An Yi had long since recovered from his qi deviation and greatly improved his martial arts. So why, on this day of life and death for the Fuyi Sect, isn’t he here to share his father’s burden and serve his sect?"

"Could it be... he’s had another training mishap and is lying paralyzed in some pleasure den, unable to move? Hahaha!"

His laugh was grating as he continued, "Or perhaps, hearing of our mighty force, he knew he couldn’t win and took off tail between his legs long ago? If that’s the case, Lord An, it seems you have... no worthy heir. A pity, a real pity!"

The venomous words instantly sparked laughter and whispers among the Righteous Alliance ranks.

Yan Yu, standing at the front of the Skyward Sect, frowned deeply at the comment, his hand unconsciously tightening on his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white.

A surge of discomfort and fury welled up inside him. How dare they slander a man like Young Master An!

Instinctively, he looked toward the Fuyi Sect, his gaze growing even more urgent as he scanned for An Yi—hoping both that An Yi wouldn't appear and risk danger, yet unable to bear such baseless insults against him.

Even Ling Fengyao, who had been watching with a merry grin, saw his playful smile fade. A cold glint flashed through his peach-blossom eyes as he shot a sharp, blade-like look at the loud-mouthed Bao Zhidao.

On the high platform, An Luyuan heard the name "An Yi." The fury that had been building ever since he failed to obtain the middle scroll and his own secret manual went missing now flared up instantly. Yet, as the sect leader, he couldn’t afford to lose his composure now.

Forcing down his surging rage, he let out a thunderous, intimidating snort that made ears ring.

"Hmph! You ignorant vermin dare to speak of my son?! Yi’er has long since emerged from seclusion and is currently consolidating his realm in the sect’s secret grounds, ready for whatever comes! How could a clown like you comprehend his abilities?! When he makes his move, you won't even have the chance to kneel and beg for mercy!"

His words were firm and laced with killing intent, momentarily silencing the jeers.

But, as always, things took an unexpected turn.

Just as An Luyuan’s words faded, a low-ranking Fuyi Sect leader standing at the edge of the formation—who had been nervously watching the crowd of onlookers for any sign of an ambush—swept his gaze across the distant hillside and abruptly locked onto two figures.

Though the two were dressed like ordinary wanderers, one stood tall and aloof, exuding an ethereal coldness, while the other, despite his devil-may-care smile, exuded a dashing charm—both stood out among the crowd like cranes among chickens!

This leader had seen the Young Master a few times from afar at the main altar, and he remembered that strikingly beautiful face well.

Now, with a closer look, the more he stared, the more certain he became!

Overcome with excitement—or perhaps eager to curry favor with the sect leader—he forgot the circumstances entirely, suddenly pointed a finger at the distant hillside, and blurted out:

"Young Master?! It’s the Young Master! He’s over there! He’s not in the sect—he’s in that crowd!"

The shout drew everyone’s attention!

All eyes—whether from the Righteous Alliance, the Fuyi Sect, or the curious onlookers—snapped to the location the leader indicated, focusing directly on An Yi and Ling Fengyao!

The wandering martial artists who had been casually watching from around An Yi and Ling Fengyao suddenly recoiled as if scalded, scattering in all directions, isolating the two in an instant.

More those quick to react or with a strong sense of justice drew their weapons with a chorus of metallic rings, closing in on the pair warily, forming a loose encirclement.

An Yi: ...

Ling Fengyao: ...

The scene instantly became incredibly strange.

An Luyuan’s face darkened dramatically. His earlier statement—"currently consolidating his realm in the sect’s secret grounds"—now felt like a resounding slap across his own face.

What an idiot!!

He stared fixedly at the white-robed figure in the distance, fury and disbelief nearly bursting from his eyes. That rebellious son not only snuck out but also ran straight into enemy territory to watch his own father make a fool of himself?!

The leader immediately shut his mouth, realizing he had caused trouble; his face turned ashen.

Yan Yu’s heart jumped into his throat!

He saw An Yi there, calm and composed, as if the hostility around him had nothing to do with him.

Anxiety, urgency, and a feeling he couldn’t name flooded over him. Without thinking, he stepped forward, breaking from the Skyward Sect’s formation, and said aloud, "Seniors, wait! Brother An is not—"

He wanted to defend An Yi, to say that An Yi wasn’t the evil monster the rumors made him out to be—perhaps that he wasn’t even truly loyal to the Fuyi Sect—but the words died on his lips. How could he make anyone believe him when An Yi’s identity was so damning?

"You unfilial disciple! Get back here!" Skyward Sect leader Wu Yuanzhong, seeing his own disciple speak up for the demon sect’s young master at such a critical moment, was livid. Without waiting for Yan Yu to finish, he flung his sleeve, sending a surge of internal energy toward him.

Yan Yu was caught off guard. The force struck his chest, and he let out a muffled groan, staggering back several steps before being steadied by his fellow disciples.

Wu Yuanzhong shot him a glare of anger and disappointment, his eyes sharp, forbidding him from speaking further.

An Yi: ...

He had told him not to speak for him.