"Hah…" Ye Xiu gasped, a breath drawn deep despite the fury churning over Chen Feng’s past actions. At this moment, however, he truly lacked the capacity to address anything further; his only thought was how to extricate himself. Perhaps, he mused, he needed the protection of an expert like Chen Feng right now.

“What? You’re not convinced?” Chen Feng strode closer, glaring at Ye Xiu. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I just want to know what kind of swordsmanship that old bastard taught you. That day, it was faster than my Shan Jue Swordplay. I trust you won't disappoint me.”

Ye Xiu understood Chen Feng’s meaning instantly. This fellow considered himself the foremost swordsman under heaven and was naturally irritated by his previous defeat. This arrogant man, it seemed, was obsessed with obtaining the true essence of the Ghost Valley Stabbing Sword technique. Ye Xiu concluded he was temporarily safe.

Chen Feng turned his head to look at Ye Xiu, darting his tongue out to lick his lips, and asked in a strange voice, “What’s wrong, our Hero Wei? Too much pain to speak? Shall I give you another taste?” With that, Chen Feng drove a forceful kick into Ye Xiu’s already broken lower leg.

“Ah!” Ye Xiu had thought the pain receptors were numb, but this impact brought a piercing, agonizing jolt.

“Well? Ready to have a chat with me?” Chen Feng grinned, looking as if he intended to devour Ye Xiu whole.

“Cough… cough…” Ye Xiu truly had no strength left, his vision still blurry. “I’ll tell you, but…” Before he could finish the sentence, he passed out again.

The sky had grown overcast, and the entire Lü Residence had sunk from yesterday’s festivity into gloom. Lü Zhi spent all day by her sister, Xu’er’s side, though she certainly didn't use the usual tones of comfort or sympathy.

She knew the depth of her sister’s feelings for Ye Xiu. She understood that while Lü Xu was mournful, what occupied her mind was no longer the pain of separation, but the hope of reunion in the future.

Fan Kuai staggered back to Liu Bang’s quarters, quietly reporting the day’s events. Apparently, at the critical moment, some unknown poisonous mist had rendered all the axe-wielding guards unconscious, himself included. By the time everyone awoke, Ye Xiu had vanished without a trace.

Liu Bang listened, offered a faint smile, and waved Fan Kuai away. Turning around, he noticed Lü Gong watching him from a distance. Liu Bang slowly raised his finger and pointed toward the sky. Lü Gong followed his gaze; twilight was about to descend. Indeed, man’s plans were often overthrown by fate.

Ye Xiu saw Xu’er once more. He watched her weeping by the window ledge, so fragile in that moment. Suddenly, Sister Ji Jiang appeared beside Xu’er, smiling, reaching out her hand, beckoning him to rise.

“Sister!” Ye Xiu woke with a start. Another dream, a dream filled with the person he loved.

Ye Xiu pressed both hands to his head. Pain radiated through his body, yet it felt noticeably eased compared to before. He blinked open his eyes and looked around. He was lying on a clean bed, attended by several servants, which left Ye Xiu utterly bewildered.

“Is this another dream?” Ye Xiu genuinely couldn’t grasp the situation, only to hear a faint sound of footsteps—the kind made only by someone with extremely high martial attainment, steps a common person could never discern, the very footwork used in assassination.

“How are you feeling? Much better, I trust.” Chen Feng had materialized before him as silently as a ghost. “Young Hero Ye—no, Junior Brother, I should say.”

Ye Xiu coldly assessed Chen Feng’s current appearance. Judging by his attire and accessories, this man seemed to have gained the patronage of some high-ranking official.

“Junior Brother, what is it? Do you disapprove of my current wardrobe?” Chen Feng spread his arms proudly and turned a slow circle before Ye Xiu.

“Senior Brother Chen has indeed integrated into these tumultuous times, achieving rapid success,” Ye Xiu admitted, knowing he must swallow his dissatisfaction while under Chen Feng’s control. “You even saved my life; I should offer my profound thanks.”

“Heh heh, why do you speak like that, Junior Brother?” Chen Feng shook his head and tapped Ye Xiu’s nose with a finger. “I am no longer Chen Feng. Chen Feng died the moment I left Ghost Valley. Listen to what they call me now.”

“Lord Ying Bu!” The assembled maidservants instantly dropped to their knees, none daring to raise their heads.

“Begone,” Chen Feng commanded, flicking his head dismissively and casting a cold look at Ye Xiu.

“Lord Ying Bu!” Ye Xiu responded instinctively. He knew that this Ying Bu was one of the leaders of the peasant uprisings, who later defected to Xiang Liang, then to Xiang Yu, becoming a renowned general of Western Chu, only to later submit to Liu Bang and be enfeoffed as the King of Jiujiang—ultimately executed for treason. He was one of the three great generals of the early Han Dynasty. But why, now, had Chen Feng inexplicably become Ying Bu?

“What, has Junior Brother become so ignorant as not to have heard the name Ying Bu?” Chen Feng sat down beside Ye Xiu’s bed. “Or perhaps you feel our reunion after so long is a matter of great fate?”

“You killed the real Ying Bu?”

“How could that fellow compare to us from Ghost Valley?” Chen Feng suddenly became arrogant. “I slew Ying Bu and all his trusted confidants and defected to Lord Xiang Liang under Ying Bu’s banner. Therefore, I am now Ying Bu.”

“Sigh…” Ye Xiu let out a breath. History was truly a comical thing; one only remembered certain names, while appearances and details passed down through generations were likely a mix of truth and fabrication.

Resigned to his predicament, Ye Xiu feigned a smile. “Then, how does Lord Ying Bu intend to deal with me?”

Ying Bu sneered back, “As long as Junior Brother willingly hands over the manual containing the Ghost Valley sword techniques, I shall restore your freedom.”

Ye Xiu lowered his head, formulating a plan. Given the current temperament of this Ying Bu, he certainly wouldn't release anyone just because he acquired a manual. Furthermore, Ye Xiu himself barely understood the Ghost Valley Swordplay; all he possessed was the Muzi Sword, a fleeting inspiration from deflecting falling leaves off a cliff, and absolutely nothing else.

“Well, Junior Brother, have you considered it? Or shall we make the decision together?” Ying Bu seemed absolutely certain of success, needing no concern about Ye Xiu harboring escape plans.

Ye Xiu knew that even if he told the truth, Ying Bu wouldn't believe him, yet he was at a loss for recourse. “My Lord Ying Bu is now a great General; why concern yourself with the trivial sword techniques of Ghost Valley?”

Ying Bu vehemently disagreed. He shook his head. “Junior Brother and I are both swordsmen. A swordsman, naturally, must pursue the ultimate in swordsmanship. I believe you are an intelligent man. For me to trouble you now would be as easy as crushing an ant.”

“Indeed.” Ye Xiu understood that those dedicated to the extreme pursuit of the blade carried an inexplicable pride and a respectful regard for worthy opponents—and he knew Ying Bu possessed this. “It’s just that I fear if I speak, Lord Ying Bu might not believe me.”

“Please…” Ying Bu extended his left hand and sat upright facing Ye Xiu.

“Believe it or not, the only manual is that Muzi Sword; there is nothing else,” Ye Xiu stated only what he knew. “The essence of Ghost Valley Swordplay lies in a certain feeling, which, regrettably, I have yet to fully internalize due to my own dullness.”

“Nonsense! What secret technique could a broken wooden sword possess?” Ying Bu slapped the table in anger. “I inspected that wooden sword long ago; it has no special qualities whatsoever. As for that damned ‘feeling,’ do you expect me to believe that rubbish?”

Ye Xiu spread his hands in exasperation. “Lord Ying Bu, if I had truly mastered the Ghost Valley sword techniques, do you think dozens of mere soldiers could have injured me to this extent?”

“Hmph.” Ying Bu clenched his jaw; it seemed logical enough. However, his pursuit of superior martial cultivation would not cease here. He waved his hand and turned to leave. “Guard him well! He must not be allowed to escape.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the men outside responded in unison.

Ye Xiu finally relaxed slightly, but he knew waiting wasn't a solution. If Ying Bu lost patience one day, he might simply order Ye Xiu killed. Ying Bu was content being second now; if he could eliminate Ye Xiu, the first whose performance was unreliable, wouldn't he become the world’s greatest swordsman?

Imprisoned and interrogated daily by Ying Bu, Ye Xiu’s injuries largely healed. One day, Ying Bu found him again, coldly tossing the Muzi Sword before him and stating, “I’ll wait for you in the rear garden.”

Ye Xiu picked up the Muzi Sword. He knew Ying Bu’s objective; today would likely be another fierce battle. He only wondered if he could invoke that spectral strike at the crucial moment, and why that cursed Zifeng Chain failed to deploy during the perilous attack on Yao Mountain Ancient Path last time.

This was the first time Ye Xiu had stepped outside his confinement. He was surprised by the unique beauty of Ying Bu’s estate courtyard. He slowly walked along the corridor and saw Ying Bu already standing ready, grasping the Qishuo Sword.

“Come then, Junior Brother,” Ying Bu said, drawing his sword, the tip pointed directly at Ye Xiu. “Today, neither of us needs to hold back. In these chaotic times, the unskilled die violently all the time; it merits no pity.”

Ye Xiu understood the significance of this battle for life and death. Ying Bu intended to push him to his absolute limit to force out his ultimate sword skill. The deadly irony was that Ye Xiu possessed no such ultimate skill.

The whistling sound of the wind echoed throughout the courtyard. Ying Bu stomped the ground and rushed toward Ye Xiu with swift, powerful strides. Ye Xiu hadn’t used a sword in a long time and suddenly didn't know how to block; he could only dodge the attack with a quick sideward roll. Ying Bu was intimately familiar with Ye Xiu’s scattering movements.

It was merely predictive anticipation built from countless battles that granted him such agility. He simply pivoted 180 degrees on one foot where his blade had just passed, keeping his point locked onto Ye Xiu, then used his other foot to spring off the ground and launch his killing strike at the target.