Ch 377: Yun Kongzi’s Past
Liu Ke’s eyes, though still vacant and lifeless, allowed Kong Yunzi to detect a faint trace of ruthlessness in their seemingly lifeless depths.
However, at that moment, Liu Ke suddenly spoke without warning, calling out a name: “Yang Erwa!”
These three words were like a bolt from the blue, exploding in Kong Yunzi’s ears. His body trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible force, involuntarily breaking free from Liu Ke’s grip and retreating repeatedly.
Not only that, the three Kong Yunzis, originally together, now all wore expressions of astonishment, clearly extremely shocked by the name Liu Ke had called out.
“You… what did you call me?” Kong Yunzi’s voice trembled slightly. He looked at Liu Ke in disbelief, as if seeing a completely stranger.
Liu Ke did not respond to Kong Yunzi’s questioning; his silence made the atmosphere unusually heavy. Meanwhile, the three faces shifted from shock to anger—the anger and shame of having one’s wounds ripped open.
“Damn it, I’ve clearly forgotten that name!” Kong Yunzi roared uncontrollably, his voice echoing in the air, carrying unrestrained hatred.
Immediately afterward, Kong Yunzi, like an enraged beast, lunged at Liu Ke. His fly whisk, like a flash of lightning, struck directly at Liu Ke.
Seeing this, Xu Liang quickly summoned all nine of his swords, surrounding Liu Ke to form an impenetrable wall of swords, attempting to protect Liu Ke from Kong Yunzi’s attack.
However, Kong Yunzi, at this point, had been driven mad by anger. He completely disregarded Xu Liang’s obstruction, his fly whisk, adorned with prayer beads, crashing down on Liu Ke like a gale.
At this critical moment, Liu Ke’s originally vacant and lifeless eyes suddenly regained their luster. His gaze became sharp and bright.
Liu Ke quickly drew his long sword, accurately blocking the descending fly whisk. The clang of metal resounded through the air, deafeningly loud.
Liu Ke’s lips curled into a faint, inscrutable smile. He slowly said, “Yang Erwa, do you remember Jiang Fengmian?”
“Shut up, shut your mouth!” Kong Yunzi’s face instantly contorted. His eyes widened in fury as he roared at Liu Ke, “Is it your place to mention his name? And how do you even know that name?”
Liu Ke’s voice was soft, like a gentle breeze, yet carried a chill, “Thanks to you, you forcibly took the prayer beads I used to suppress my illusions, causing me to fall into deep illusions.”
“What?” Kong Yunzi looked astonished. He clearly hadn’t expected Liu Ke to say such a thing.
Liu Ke’s lips curled into a sneer. He continued, “Do you think I know nothing? Shall I tell you about your past? At four, you fought dogs for scraps of food; at six, you embraced Buddhism, joining Baiqing Temple, but by nine, you dared to peep at women bathing, and were expelled from the temple. At eleven, you joined Taiqing Temple, but you used underhanded tactics to kill your senior brother. At sixteen, you followed Master Jiang Fengmian, who showered you with care, even doing unscrupulous things for you. But you? You, to learn his ‘Night Lament’ and ‘Three Lives Transformation,’ poisoned him to death! As he lay dying, he still worried about you, urging you to run, but you? You laughed!”
Kong Yunzi’s face turned extremely ugly. His body trembled slightly. These events, buried deep in his heart, now revealed so bluntly by Liu Ke, left him feeling utterly ashamed.
He recalled his past actions.
In Kong Yunzi’s mind, his sealed memories surged forth like a flood.
In the harsh winter of his fourth year, he huddled in a dilapidated temple corner, clutching a half-moldy bun. A wild dog’s sharp teeth had torn his hand, the smell of blood mingling with the stench of the bun. He clutched it tightly, as if guarding his last hope of survival, his eyes filled with bestial ferocity.
When he entered Baiqing Temple at six, he thought that wearing a gray monk’s robe would free him from hunger and cold, but his Buddhist name, “Jingchi,” could not suppress his wild nature.
On a summer night at nine, he hid behind the firewood shed window, watching the water droplets that fell accidentally when a guest was bathing. His heart pounded like a drum. When his master discovered him, the ruler fell on his back, causing him to roll on the ground in pain. Yet he gritted his teeth and refused to admit wrongdoing, only feeling that those people were making a fuss over nothing.
In his first three years at Taiqing Temple, he ingratiated himself with the headmaster through cunning and deceit, but his senior brother always kept an eye on him, unable to tolerate him trading the junior brothers’ allowances for alcohol. That night, he secretly moved his senior brother’s alchemy furnace to the edge of a cliff, watching as his senior brother fell to his death while retrieving fallen pills. Standing on the cliff, listening to the wind, he felt no fear, only satisfaction—finally, no one would be in his way.
Soon, the matter was exposed, and he fled overnight.
When he encountered Jiang Fengmian, he was being hunted relentlessly by his enemies. The man in white clothes repelled the pursuers with a flick of his finger, and took him back to his cave dwelling, teaching him breathing techniques and cultivation methods, raising him like his own son.
Jiang Fengmian would often pat his head and say, “Erwa, change your temperament; you’ll achieve great things in the future.”
He would comply verbally, but his heart only yearned for his master’s techniques, “Night Lament” and “Three Lives Transformation,” that could manipulate heaven and earth.
He brewed the poison himself, mixing it into Jiang Fengmian’s favorite osmanthus tea. When his master drank it, he smiled and asked, “Why did you decide to make tea for me today?”
He stood aside, watching black blood flow from his master’s lips, watching the gentle eyes gradually lose their light, listening to his master’s last, weak gasp, “Run… don’t look back, someone poisoned us!”
Yet, the moment he turned, he laughed.
Those scenes he had deliberately buried were now dissected word by word by Liu Ke, laid bare and bloody before his eyes. Kong Yunzi’s three faces twisted simultaneously. The prayer beads on the fly whisk rattled; half of them cracked open, revealing dark wooden cores.
Kong Yunzi’s anger reached its peak. He roared, and his fly whisk transformed into a giant black serpent, lunging fiercely at Liu Ke.
Liu Ke remained calm, sweeping his long sword, and a sharp blade light slashed toward the serpent.
The two collided, producing a blinding flash of light. Simultaneously, Xu Liang manipulated the nine swords, stabbing at Kong Yunzi from different directions.
Kong Yunzi’s clone flickered, dodging the attack. His six hands simultaneously formed seals, chanting incantations. The surrounding air instantly turned frigid, and countless ice spikes appeared out of thin air, shooting toward Liu Ke and Xu Liang.
Liu Ke and Xu Liang stood back-to-back. Liu Ke blocked with his sword, Xu Liang parried with his swords; for a time, ice spikes fell to the ground. Seeing his attack blocked, Kong Yunzi grew even angrier, preparing to use more powerful miraculous techniques.
At that moment, Liu Ke suddenly said, “Do you think I only know about your past?”
