Chapter 35: Forming Enmity

Liu Feng’s expression remained cold and indifferent; even when facing a beauty like Nuo Lan, he showed not the slightest trace of pity or compassion. Before such domineering indifference, Nuo Lan’s cheeks flushed crimson, more from anger than embarrassment.

“And why should we give it to you?” Qing Luo stepped forward to support Nuo Lan, her voice sharp with indignation.

“Because I am stronger than you. You’d best not force me to act myself,” Liu Feng replied with a chilling snort, waving his hand as his followers began to close in. Yet uncertainty flickered across many of their faces. Not everyone, after all, could remain as unmoved as Liu Feng before such breathtaking beauty.

“Attack!” At the command, several figures lunged straight for Nuo Lan and Qing Luo. They were all outer sect disciples—not particularly powerful, but Nuo Lan and Qing Luo were women, and only two against many. Even though this was the residence of female disciples, it seemed none were willing to intervene.

Shadows darted across the courtyard as Nuo Lan and Qing Luo, beset on all sides, began to falter under the onslaught. Yet their assailants seemed less interested in subduing the two women quickly than in taking advantage of the situation. Still, they could not capture Nuo Lan, nor lay hands on the little bird perched on her shoulder. Fearing the bird would escape again, Liu Feng let out a cold snort, stomped his foot hard on the ground, and swept forward like the wind, closing in on Nuo Lan in a heartbeat and striking out with a fierce palm.

The violent force of the blow startled Nuo Lan; before she could react, Liu Feng was upon her. Her face paled, a flicker of panic in her eyes, as his palm descended.

But in that instant, a figure sliced through the air, swift as lightning, arriving at Nuo Lan’s side at the very last moment. With one arm encircling her waist, he met Liu Feng’s attack with his own palm.

Bang!

A dull crash echoed through the courtyard. Gale-force energy surged outward. Liu Feng’s face twisted in shock as he was hurled backward, blood spraying from his lips.

The courtyard fell deathly still. All eyes were wide with disbelief as they stared at the newcomer—this man who had appeared out of nowhere and now held Nuo Lan protectively by the waist. The shock in their gazes was unmistakable.

Nuo Lan’s lips parted in surprise, her head tilting up to look at the man beside her. For a moment she was dazed; then, realizing his hand was still at her waist, a blush crept across her cheeks and her delicate earlobes reddened.

Before Nuo Lan could speak, the man’s hand withdrew.

The newcomer was, of course, Yin Tianfang. Casting a faint glance at Liu Feng, he then turned to Nuo Lan. “Are you alright?” he asked, extending his hand toward her.

Nuo Lan’s heart fluttered involuntarily at the gesture. She stared, momentarily lost, at Yin Tianfang’s outstretched hands, unsure how to respond.

But before she could react, the little bird that had been perched on her shoulder chirped gleefully, hopped onto Yin Tianfang’s hand, and settled there. Smiling, Yin Tianfang drew back his hand and stroked the bird. “Let’s see if you dare run off again next time.”

Such a scene left Nuo Lan momentarily stunned, then a surge of anger erupted within her like a volcano. She had believed Yin Tianfang was concerned for her, only to discover that his real worry was for the bird on her shoulder. In his heart, she mattered less than a bird—how could she accept that?

“You scoundrel!”

Slap!

Her fair palm landed squarely across Yin Tianfang’s cheek, leaving five distinct finger marks blooming on his face. The blow dazed him, his expression blank with surprise.

Before he could recover, Nuo Lan huffed and strode away.

“You deserved that!” Qing Luo shot Yin Tianfang an angry glare before retreating into the courtyard and slamming the gate behind her.

Rubbing his burning cheek, Yin Tianfang felt wronged; he had saved her, only to be slapped in return.

“Who are you, boy?” a furious snarl rang out. Liu Feng, his face dark as thunder and eyes icy cold, glared murderously at Yin Tianfang. Never before had he suffered such humiliation. To be wounded in front of so many—how could he live this down?

Hearing Liu Feng’s outraged roar, Yin Tianfang turned, his expression calm. He knew all about Liu Feng: arrogant and lawless, his arrogance bolstered by a brother who was an inner disciple of the Xuan Dao Sect. With such protection, no one dared challenge him within the sect. Yin Tianfang was likely the first to actually strike back, let alone injure him.

“I advise you not to provoke me,” Yin Tianfang said coolly, placing the little bird on his shoulder and preparing to leave without sparing Liu Feng another glance.

Proud and arrogant as he was, how could Liu Feng let Yin Tianfang walk away so easily?

“Seize him!” he barked. At once, several figures surged toward Yin Tianfang. He halted, turned, and his gaze grew cold as a glimmer of killing intent flickered within.

With a flick of his hand, a flying sword shot out from his storage pouch, transforming into a streak of cold, deadly light that darted through the courtyard. Screams rang out in quick succession as those who rushed him were wounded—arms pierced through by the sword, blood streaming down.

“Take one more step, and I’ll show no mercy!” Yin Tianfang’s voice rang out, icy and sharp with murderous intent. Everyone drew a sharp breath; shock and terror flashed in their eyes. Whether Liu Feng’s group or the onlooking female disciples, all stared at Yin Tianfang in stunned silence. The courtyard became deathly quiet.

Those words, brimming with cold killing intent, sent chills through the hearts of all present.

“What are you brats doing here, brawling like this? Is this what you call ambition?” A stern shout shattered the silence. An elder and a young man approached—Elder Xuan Yin and Ge Bin. Ge Bin, having sensed trouble, had gone to fetch the elder.

“Greetings, Elder Xuan Yin!” the disciples chorused as they bowed. Elder Xuan Yin nodded, his gaze settling on Yin Tianfang, then shifting to the little bird on his shoulder, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“You, boy—come with me!” Elder Xuan Yin ordered, his face grim.

“Elder, this man—”

“Silence! This has nothing to do with you. Get back to your cultivation!” Elder Xuan Yin’s rebuke cut Liu Feng off mid-sentence. Though Liu Feng’s brother was an inner disciple, he was nothing compared to Elder Xuan Yin. Chastened, Liu Feng could only accept the reprimand silently.

“Hmph. This isn’t over,” Liu Feng muttered hatefully, shooting Yin Tianfang a venomous glare before leaving with his followers.

“Come with me!” Elder Xuan Yin called again, turning toward the peaks of the northern mountains. Yin Tianfang followed, his expression calm.

As he passed Ge Bin, the latter leaned in and whispered, “Junior Brother Yin, when the elder questions you, whatever you do, don’t talk back.”

Yin Tianfang nodded and set off after Elder Xuan Yin.