Chapter 27 Section ten
It was noon when Yu Runsheng hit the arrow.
However, few people know that this bloody day has already begun as early as the morning.
It hadn't rained this morning. But Pang Wenying smelled the approaching rain clouds, and he smiled.Experience, the elderly have this advantage. He watched Zhuo Xiaoyang lead the horse out.The youngest disciple is also forty-two years old.Among the five senior brothers, he is the one who can bear hardships the most. He has no special talent, but he is very diligent.For so many years, Pang Wenying's daily life has been taken care of by him. It's time to arrange a retreat for him, Pang Wenying thought.A few years later, when Yu Runsheng took over the power, Zhuo Xiaoyang could not have any role in the new team.Just give him a lot of money and let him go home. At least one of the "five great students" can die well... Shen Bingchen pulled the horse's head and put Pang Wenying on the saddle.Oh, this feeling.Pang Wenying felt that strength again on horseback, so even though it was about to rain, he still did not give up riding outside the city early this morning.It was one of the few pleasures his sixty-six-year-old body could enjoy.Alcohol can no longer be drunk.Women are far away... The two disciples also mounted the saddle.Pang Wenying looked at Shen Bingchen in front of him.The crossed swords on his back hadn't been used for a long time.But Pang Wenying knew that the second disciple had not neglected to practice.He would still be useful by Runsheng's side. The question is whether Shen Bingchen can accept this reality.Pang Wenying knew that Shen Bingchen had no ambitions since childhood.But over the years, Jiang Wu's shortcomings in talent are obvious, and Shen Bingchen must have made plans to inherit Pang Wenying's power.What would he think about Runsheng now? Can't think otherwise.If Shen Bingchen became an obstacle for Yu Runsheng to take over power, Pang Wenying would get rid of him without hesitation.It's not about favoritism, it's a reality of power. ——He knew that Shen Bingchen also understood this. Sanqi walked slowly past the intersection of Zhengzhong Road and Pingxi Street, and walked along the street to the North City Gate.Pang Wenying tried to slow down the horse step as much as possible.He didn't want to wake up the sleeping residents on both sides of the street when the day was still unclear.Although he knew that no one in Piaocheng dared to complain about the sound of his horse's steps.Pang Wenying understood many years ago: the key to building power is not to abuse it. There was a louder intermittent sound in the distance.Pang Wenying couldn't hold back anymore.He just wants to run against the wind in the wilderness in winter morning.Let the cold wind numb your face while sweating profusely.Let Zhuo Xiaoyang wash his still muscular body... A man picking manure in front blocked the way.He was wearing a tattered padded jacket with a cloth covering his mouth and nose. Pang Wenying didn't cover her nose.He respects everyone who works hard to eat.What's more, he was used to this stench a long time ago - in his hometown, he started to water the fields when he was six years old. He thought of his hometown.Not much memory left.I have been away from my hometown for almost 50 years, and I only went back once.He didn't have the slightest liking for the extremely poor countryside - otherwise he wouldn't have gone to Kyoto back then. But suddenly, some ignorant sensory memories came back: the warm sunshine in the field; the quiet fish pond; the sweet smell of pomegranates just picked from the trees... Maybe I should go back, Pang Wenying thought.Just after finishing everything... Then he realized: These are the thoughts of a dying man. "It" is telling me again. "It" is that intuition.The intuition that has saved his life many times in the past few decades. Just when the three of them rode past the dung picker, the man was bowing his head in apology, hiding by the side of the street with the two big dung buckets on his shoulders. At that moment Pang Wenying still held her breath.After all, the smell is not pleasant. When he breathed again, he found that the stench was many times stronger, rushing straight from his nose to his forehead.He was slightly dizzy. Then a puddle of thick, icy liquid poured over him.Pang Wenying instinctively closed her eyes and lowered her head. His body was covered with feces and urine collected from thirty-nine households on Pingxi Street. Pang Wenying then heard a heavy clash of steel and a muffled cry. Pang Wenying felt pain like nails in many parts of her body.There were other things in the spilled dung water. When he opened his eyes, he suddenly saw that Shen Bingchen was dead. The middle part of Shen Bingchen's twin swords collapsed and twisted, cutting across his own head and face.The face was bloody. The dung picker had unusually long arms, and in his right hand was holding a thick and short hexagonal iron rod, the handle was wrapped with a leather rope, and the attacking end was covered with round nails.The iron rod was also covered with feces, obviously it was still hidden in the dung bucket just now. Shen Bingchen was able to pull out his two swords to parry at that moment, which was close to 40 years of hard training every day.However, no matter how experienced an expert is, it is impossible for a bucket of feces and urine to be thrown head-on without changing his face, and it is impossible to react without a slight delay. Shen Bingchen burst violently due to the heavy blow to his skull, and his left eye fell out of its socket.When his body fell from the saddle, he still maintained the posture of crossing his swords, and his hands did not let go of the two swords that were still chopped on his face. Zhuo Xiaoyang screamed and rode his horse towards the assassin. The dung picker's legs seemed to be equipped with machine springs, and he jumped up abruptly, over the head of Zhuo Xiaoyang who was riding on the horse! Zhuo Xiaoyang couldn't believe that Senior Brother Shen, who was the most skilled among the "Four Great Disciples", was killed in one move; but the ape-like athletic ability of the assassin in front of him made him even more unbelievable. The dung picker's body rolled forward like a ball in the air, and he swung down with both hands, hitting Zhuo Xiaoyang's back hard. For the first time, Zhuo Xiaoyang knew how painful it was for a broken spine to pierce the spinal nerves. "Master Pang... let's go..." Zhuo Xiaoyang spit out blood every time he shouted a word.He still wanted to turn around and hug the assassin who fell behind him, but the body with the damaged spinal cord no longer listened to the commands of his consciousness. When the idea of "impossible" is imprinted in the mind, it gradually becomes a dead end of thinking.In the world Pang Wenying lives in, this is the most dangerous vice.He knew this truth a long time ago.But he forgot.he is old.His disciples are also old.The two corpses that fell under the horse in an instant are proof. Pang Wenying kept her eyes closed while urging her mount.He was not taking chances.He knew that he had made two of the most unforgivable mistakes in the underworld: underestimating the ambitions of others; overestimating his own abilities.He knew there was only one punishment for such a mistake. Sure enough, he couldn't run.The tingling pain in many places on the body became more intense.Something was strangling the skin of his neck and shoulders. What was sprinkled on him among the filth was a fishing net with dozens of sharp barbs hanging from one side. The dung picker was holding the end of the fishing net with his left hand, which prevented Pang Wenying's horse from running forward.That's the power only beasts have. The horse neighed in pain and stood up towards the superior.The dung picker took advantage of the momentum and pulled again, and Pang Wenying, who was caught in the net, was pulled from the saddle and fell hard to the ground.The horse also fell over. Pang Wenying still wanted to struggle to stand up, but slipped and fell on the ground covered with excrement. The dung picker pulled the fishing net upside down and ran into a dark narrow alley.Pang Wenying was wrapped in a fishing net, and she sat on the ground and let the other party drag her. He looked up at the still gray sky through his fishing net. Suddenly he knew who wanted his life. He forgot the humiliation of dying on a dunghill.he smiles.A satisfied, appreciative smile. The fishing net shrinks rapidly. The strongest warrior in the history of "Feng Yilong" was silently swallowed by that dark alley.
It hadn't rained this morning. But Pang Wenying smelled the approaching rain clouds, and he smiled.Experience, the elderly have this advantage. He watched Zhuo Xiaoyang lead the horse out.The youngest disciple is also forty-two years old.Among the five senior brothers, he is the one who can bear hardships the most. He has no special talent, but he is very diligent.For so many years, Pang Wenying's daily life has been taken care of by him. It's time to arrange a retreat for him, Pang Wenying thought.A few years later, when Yu Runsheng took over the power, Zhuo Xiaoyang could not have any role in the new team.Just give him a lot of money and let him go home. At least one of the "five great students" can die well... Shen Bingchen pulled the horse's head and put Pang Wenying on the saddle.Oh, this feeling.Pang Wenying felt that strength again on horseback, so even though it was about to rain, he still did not give up riding outside the city early this morning.It was one of the few pleasures his sixty-six-year-old body could enjoy.Alcohol can no longer be drunk.Women are far away... The two disciples also mounted the saddle.Pang Wenying looked at Shen Bingchen in front of him.The crossed swords on his back hadn't been used for a long time.But Pang Wenying knew that the second disciple had not neglected to practice.He would still be useful by Runsheng's side. The question is whether Shen Bingchen can accept this reality.Pang Wenying knew that Shen Bingchen had no ambitions since childhood.But over the years, Jiang Wu's shortcomings in talent are obvious, and Shen Bingchen must have made plans to inherit Pang Wenying's power.What would he think about Runsheng now? Can't think otherwise.If Shen Bingchen became an obstacle for Yu Runsheng to take over power, Pang Wenying would get rid of him without hesitation.It's not about favoritism, it's a reality of power. ——He knew that Shen Bingchen also understood this. Sanqi walked slowly past the intersection of Zhengzhong Road and Pingxi Street, and walked along the street to the North City Gate.Pang Wenying tried to slow down the horse step as much as possible.He didn't want to wake up the sleeping residents on both sides of the street when the day was still unclear.Although he knew that no one in Piaocheng dared to complain about the sound of his horse's steps.Pang Wenying understood many years ago: the key to building power is not to abuse it. There was a louder intermittent sound in the distance.Pang Wenying couldn't hold back anymore.He just wants to run against the wind in the wilderness in winter morning.Let the cold wind numb your face while sweating profusely.Let Zhuo Xiaoyang wash his still muscular body... A man picking manure in front blocked the way.He was wearing a tattered padded jacket with a cloth covering his mouth and nose. Pang Wenying didn't cover her nose.He respects everyone who works hard to eat.What's more, he was used to this stench a long time ago - in his hometown, he started to water the fields when he was six years old. He thought of his hometown.Not much memory left.I have been away from my hometown for almost 50 years, and I only went back once.He didn't have the slightest liking for the extremely poor countryside - otherwise he wouldn't have gone to Kyoto back then. But suddenly, some ignorant sensory memories came back: the warm sunshine in the field; the quiet fish pond; the sweet smell of pomegranates just picked from the trees... Maybe I should go back, Pang Wenying thought.Just after finishing everything... Then he realized: These are the thoughts of a dying man. "It" is telling me again. "It" is that intuition.The intuition that has saved his life many times in the past few decades. Just when the three of them rode past the dung picker, the man was bowing his head in apology, hiding by the side of the street with the two big dung buckets on his shoulders. At that moment Pang Wenying still held her breath.After all, the smell is not pleasant. When he breathed again, he found that the stench was many times stronger, rushing straight from his nose to his forehead.He was slightly dizzy. Then a puddle of thick, icy liquid poured over him.Pang Wenying instinctively closed her eyes and lowered her head. His body was covered with feces and urine collected from thirty-nine households on Pingxi Street. Pang Wenying then heard a heavy clash of steel and a muffled cry. Pang Wenying felt pain like nails in many parts of her body.There were other things in the spilled dung water. When he opened his eyes, he suddenly saw that Shen Bingchen was dead. The middle part of Shen Bingchen's twin swords collapsed and twisted, cutting across his own head and face.The face was bloody. The dung picker had unusually long arms, and in his right hand was holding a thick and short hexagonal iron rod, the handle was wrapped with a leather rope, and the attacking end was covered with round nails.The iron rod was also covered with feces, obviously it was still hidden in the dung bucket just now. Shen Bingchen was able to pull out his two swords to parry at that moment, which was close to 40 years of hard training every day.However, no matter how experienced an expert is, it is impossible for a bucket of feces and urine to be thrown head-on without changing his face, and it is impossible to react without a slight delay. Shen Bingchen burst violently due to the heavy blow to his skull, and his left eye fell out of its socket.When his body fell from the saddle, he still maintained the posture of crossing his swords, and his hands did not let go of the two swords that were still chopped on his face. Zhuo Xiaoyang screamed and rode his horse towards the assassin. The dung picker's legs seemed to be equipped with machine springs, and he jumped up abruptly, over the head of Zhuo Xiaoyang who was riding on the horse! Zhuo Xiaoyang couldn't believe that Senior Brother Shen, who was the most skilled among the "Four Great Disciples", was killed in one move; but the ape-like athletic ability of the assassin in front of him made him even more unbelievable. The dung picker's body rolled forward like a ball in the air, and he swung down with both hands, hitting Zhuo Xiaoyang's back hard. For the first time, Zhuo Xiaoyang knew how painful it was for a broken spine to pierce the spinal nerves. "Master Pang... let's go..." Zhuo Xiaoyang spit out blood every time he shouted a word.He still wanted to turn around and hug the assassin who fell behind him, but the body with the damaged spinal cord no longer listened to the commands of his consciousness. When the idea of "impossible" is imprinted in the mind, it gradually becomes a dead end of thinking.In the world Pang Wenying lives in, this is the most dangerous vice.He knew this truth a long time ago.But he forgot.he is old.His disciples are also old.The two corpses that fell under the horse in an instant are proof. Pang Wenying kept her eyes closed while urging her mount.He was not taking chances.He knew that he had made two of the most unforgivable mistakes in the underworld: underestimating the ambitions of others; overestimating his own abilities.He knew there was only one punishment for such a mistake. Sure enough, he couldn't run.The tingling pain in many places on the body became more intense.Something was strangling the skin of his neck and shoulders. What was sprinkled on him among the filth was a fishing net with dozens of sharp barbs hanging from one side. The dung picker was holding the end of the fishing net with his left hand, which prevented Pang Wenying's horse from running forward.That's the power only beasts have. The horse neighed in pain and stood up towards the superior.The dung picker took advantage of the momentum and pulled again, and Pang Wenying, who was caught in the net, was pulled from the saddle and fell hard to the ground.The horse also fell over. Pang Wenying still wanted to struggle to stand up, but slipped and fell on the ground covered with excrement. The dung picker pulled the fishing net upside down and ran into a dark narrow alley.Pang Wenying was wrapped in a fishing net, and she sat on the ground and let the other party drag her. He looked up at the still gray sky through his fishing net. Suddenly he knew who wanted his life. He forgot the humiliation of dying on a dunghill.he smiles.A satisfied, appreciative smile. The fishing net shrinks rapidly. The strongest warrior in the history of "Feng Yilong" was silently swallowed by that dark alley.