Chapter 287: The Female National Player's Finger Twist Slashes Longevity

The vibrating strings generated an elusive energy, each strand deadly.

The blind female zitherist, who ranked third on the assassin's list alongside Ms. Hehe, gave Xu Fengnian no chance to recover. With her right hand, she broadly plucked then delicately picked the strings. Xu Fengnian, using the Spring Thunder blade embedded in the alley's bluestone slab, cut off one strand. Looking up, two silver threads sliced through countless raindrops and shot towards him. This was remarkably similar to how Li Chungang had once flicked water beads on a muddy road, stringing them together into a line of sword energy. Xu Fengnian dared not be careless. He extended his arms, locked his fingers, and tapped dozens of times, retreating lightly as if to gauge the true power of the zitherist's Profound Finger silver threads. The silver threads continuously pierced through water droplets, like fine needles boring through thin snow, without any hindrance. This left Xu Fengnian feeling somewhat helpless. While he might have a chance if merely resisting the sheer density of energy with half of the Great Yellow Court gifted by Wang Chonglou, turning it to his own use and competing in the subtleties of unraveling complex techniques was still far beyond his reach. He could only retract his fingers, clench his hands into fists, and strike the sharp ends of the silver threads. Still unwilling to be overconfident, he employed the "four ounces deflect a thousand pounds" technique learned from Wudang Mountain, subtly deflecting the two white lines so they diverged and disappeared into the rain behind him.

Xu Fengnian once again hunched forward and dashed, treading on the rainwater. Without touching the bluestone slabs of the alley, he glided across the water's surface. With a push of his right hand from his waist, Spring Thunder detached from a bluestone slab and floated before him. His sword energy, like a rolling dragon wall, brutally crushed the vibrating zither threads spanning twenty paces. He had just retreated ten paces, but now he was only forty paces from the zitherist.

Aside from the "Yin Rou" technique that repelled the golden threads of Spring Thunder, the zitherist's playing style returned to its previous clear, graceful, and gentle tone. Xu Fengnian had studied ancient musical scores and instruments with his second sister, Xu Weixiong, since childhood. Although his comprehension was ordinary, he was no stranger to music, and he finally began to grasp some meaning. This zitherist played with both hands, her style divided in two: her right hand's plucking belonged to the Southern Tang Yushan School, emphasizing the tranquil and flowing "high mountains and flowing water" style, embodying the grace of a national scholar. Her left hand, however, exhibited the typical Eastern Yue Guangling School style, with an urgent, restless tone, like surging tides, crashing waves, and thunder, resembling a heroic knight singing with sword in hand. This combination resulted in a complex and blended sound, but its strength lay in its sudden transitions, catching listeners off guard, much like a treacherous river where a small boat could capsize in an instant. Killing with music was an unconventional martial art. This woman's Profound Finger technique, capable of striking down Jin Gang masters, not only utilized sharp silver threads that damaged vital points and bones, making wounds extremely difficult to heal, but also possessed even more intricate subtleties. If Xu Fengnian hadn't been accustomed to multi-tasking with his mind divided, he would have been utterly restricted, unable to advance. He should have recognized the difficulty and retreated, fleeing the alley obediently.

Xu Fengnian used the "Opening Shu Style" to hack apart the endless silver threads, moving forward step by step, gaining another ten paces. The boundless silver threads enveloped him like a semicircle, but Xu Fengnian's vital energy rolled them away, compressing them towards the zitherist.

The blind woman was expressionless. Whether she was catching her breath or lost in thought, her right hand briefly paused, and her left hand remained suspended without pressing the strings. The zither music abruptly stopped. A tiny crack appeared in her seemingly impenetrable defense. Spring Thunder tore through the arc-shaped semicircle, and Xu Fengnian pressed forward relentlessly, determined to break through, even if it were a trap.

He patiently waited until they were thirty paces apart. Finally, she brought both hands down simultaneously, though it seemed utterly chaotic, like a child playfully slapping the strings. She simply struck them again and again, as inspiration struck, for eighteen consecutive beats—a true, grand "Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute." One by one, puddles around Xu Fengnian exploded from the ground. Fortunately, relying on the "Swimming Fish Style" from his blade manual, he deftly maneuvered between life and death. The splashes from the eighteen exploding puddles were like eighteen rolling blades. While he completely evaded ten of them, five water blades were blocked by his mirage technique. Three water blades, however, still shattered his Great Yellow Court, causing water droplets to draw blood from his feet.

Xu Fengnian gritted his teeth, gripped Spring Thunder, and hurled it like a short spear. As the zitherist was already blind, there was no question of "turning a blind eye." She merely curved her lips slightly, her left hand returning to the strings, and her right finger forming a circle.

The wind and rain in the alley suddenly changed. The torrential downpour overhead seemed as if a cloth had been forcefully pulled downwards, instantly creating a vast, snow-covered path like a blizzard. Xu Fengnian was instantly ambushed from all sides and surrounded. Spring Thunder hovered an inch from her head, trembling, unable to advance further. The zitherist's left hand swept across seven strings in one fluid motion, building momentum layer upon layer. Her right hand seemingly lifted slowly, then gently flicked a finger, striking the sheath of Spring Thunder and embedding it diagonally into the wall.

Inside the courtyard, the old master, who had been tilting his head and listening intently to the zither music, praised sincerely, "There truly exists a 'Seven-Fold Hand' in this world, possessing the spirit of 'snow holding back the horses at the frontier.' No wonder 'west of Yang Pass, no old friends are found.' The zither's three sounds—the pressed notes like humans, the open notes and harmonics merging with heaven and earth—these are called the Three Lays. This zitherist is undoubtedly a grand master."

The higher banana leaves of the cluster by the wall were all utterly shredded.

The burly blacksmith stood blocking the doorway, eyes closed, concentrating his energy, his brows tightly furrowed.

The old master exclaimed in surprise, "Tsk, tsk. Isn't this our West Shu's long-lost 'Rope-Pulling Technique'?"

Outside the courtyard, killing intent permeated the air. Xu Fengnian surmised that this zitherist assassin was not skilled in close-quarters combat. She would risk injury to close the distance, as a single blade strike within ten paces would be lethal. However, this game of dice, this wager, was so immense that he didn't even get a chance to open the cup and see the roll. At twenty paces, he was brutally forced back by the overwhelming killing intent unleashed by the zitherist's left hand plucking the strings. Viewing this heavy rain with the unique insight of someone who had entered the Jin Gang realm, it seemed like scattered curtains of rain suspended between the two. If no one had manipulated them, there would be no mystery. Previously, when the zitherist played with her right hand, she merely produced silver threads that pierced through the rain curtains to kill. But with her left hand, individual raindrops were controlled by the music, forming curtains of rain that could be manipulated at will. This level of precise control made Xu Fengnian, trapped within, suffer immensely. Overwhelming rain-swords shot towards him, forcing him to unleash his full vital energy and retreat repeatedly.

His body, covered in blood, was thoroughly washed by the rain, only for new trickles to seep out.

The old master inside the courtyard, unable to see the gruesome, bloody scene, simply chuckled, "They say martial artists often draw swords at the slightest disagreement. But according to you, these two started fighting without even exchanging a word?"

The taciturn blacksmith solemnly replied, "Both of them are straightforward people."

The old master nodded.

The rain-soaked blacksmith asked, "Whom should we help?"

The old master shook his head. "We should ideally help the newcomer. But if he dies at the hands of the zitherist Xue Songguan, our help would be futile. Let's consider ourselves the 'fisherman profiting from the struggle between the snipe and the clam.' Having been 'stray dogs' for over twenty years, we have no right to discuss what is honorable or not. A sage brings peace to the world not by moving mountains or filling seas, but simply by giving back an inch for an inch gained, and a fraction for a fraction lost."

The blacksmith had probably waited all these years for the ripe fruit to finally fall, for the three people in the courtyard to finally reach a conclusion, whether in life or death, instead of dangling in limbo. He rarely offered an evaluative remark, but now he said, "Scholar Zhao, just like the Crown Prince, I don't really enjoy listening to your lectures. They mostly make my teeth ache, like chewing on sour cabbage."

The old master Zhao Dingxiu, far from being angry, laughed and poked this "elm knot" with his finger. "You two, one is useless white wood, and the other is a stone in an outhouse."

After saying this, the old man softly added, "I've long accepted my fate. Actually, this is quite good."

The blacksmith carefully sensed the chaotic vital energy clashing outside the courtyard and said, "This zitherist probably skipped the Jin Gang realm to enter the Profound Finger realm, and seems to be close to the Heavenly Phenomenon realm as well. However, a mere 'sheet of paper' apart can still be a world of difference, it's hard to say."

The old master, exasperated, blurted out, "Then what are they fighting for, for crying out loud?"

The blacksmith seemed amused by the old master's uncharacteristic profanity and chuckled, "For us martial artists, if a realm isn't achieved step by step, there will be many flaws."

In the alley, Xu Fengnian wiped the rain and blood from his face with his sleeve.

He had almost returned to his initial position, once again a hundred paces away from the zitherist assassin.

Within a hundred paces and beyond twenty paces, the zitherist's ability to kill by pressing the strings with her right hand was already terrifying. He hadn't expected that within twenty paces, her Profound Finger technique with her left hand would be even more domineering and unparalleled.

None of her silver threads were fatal to a Jin Gang master, but they were like pricking a large leather bag with a needle—a sinister method of "slicing meat with a soft knife." Once a stalemate occurred, the Jin Gang master unable to get close would surely be worn down to death.

The blind zitherist was not in a hurry to press her advantage. She stopped her hands, resting them on the strings, and her lips curved slightly as she softly said, "Come kill me."

Xu Fengnian almost vomited blood in anger. He forced a smile and tentatively asked, "I won't ask who wants to kill me, I just want to know how much my life is worth?"

Unfortunately, she said nothing more.

Xu Fengnian exhaled a long breath.

At that very moment, she suddenly bent her finger and plucked a string, snapping it instantly!

Xu Fengnian's Qi Sea was like a large pot of boiling water, though it had been heated slowly by adding firewood, not obviously so. Only at this moment did it completely lose control; a mouthful of fresh blood, impossible to suppress, surged from his throat.

This was the blind zitherist's true killing move. Hundreds of zither strokes that harmed skin and vital energy were merely a diversion. Since zither music had always been considered the supreme joy for dispelling evil and calming the mind, it could naturally, in the hands of a Profound Finger realm master, restrain ghosts and spirits and shatter Jin Gang defenses. Previously, whether categorized by northern or southern style, or by speed, the zither music had been a silent pull, like ink spilled by late spring rain, but also like the subtle nourishment of spring wind. This snapping string, plucking the heartstrings, caused most of Xu Fengnian's vital energy to violently surge in an instant, directly aiming for his heart's core! If she succeeded, his heart would not remain intact.

Profound Finger. Finger on the string.

The mystic bow as a string. This blind zitherist's Profound Finger was not about seeking immortality, but about severing others' path to it.

Xu Fengnian punched his chest, forcefully suppressing the wildly surging vital energy. He, who had always kept his vital energy locked in his lower dantian, relaxed the final third of its restriction, grinning ferociously as he dashed forward. This woman had set up a series of traps, quietly waiting for this precise moment. But he, too, had been patiently biding his time, waiting for an opportunity. Wasn't he the oriole, waiting in the background?

Spring Thunder, stuck in the wall, hummed in its sheath, but the sound was masked by the rain.

The zitherist, who could be called a grand master among women, subtly furrowed her delicate brows.

She seemed to feel a pang of regret or sympathy, then snapped another string.

The torrential rain directly above their heads instantly froze in place, while the rain beneath the alley's eaves continued to fall rapidly. This created an utterly bizarre scene.

Heaven and Earth separated.

The alley was without rain!