Undercurrent Lord (Please add to your favorites, recommend, and click!)

Jiang Tengqing clutched the letter in his hand, his face alight with wild joy. He read it three times over, then burst into booming laughter, stepping out with long strides.

He hadn’t yet left the house when he nearly collided with Lady Jiang. She scolded him, “What are you doing, so careless?”

Waving the letter, Jiang Tengqing laughed heartily, “Good news! Marvelous news! The best news imaginable!”

Unable to contain himself, he hurried outside, calling out, “Someone, prepare the carriage!”

The Jiang family’s estate sprawled across a vast tract at the foot of Mount Taiwu. Not far away lay a town called Luming, situated on the banks of the Longchuan River. Thanks to the river’s shipping capacity, the town was quite prosperous.

Jiang Tengqing’s carriage rumbled to a stop at a cluster of courtyards facing the river, their surroundings elegant and refined. It was his first time here. As they neared, he gestured for the driver to slow down and be quiet, so as not to disturb anyone.

The driver, thinking the clan leader overly cautious, smiled and said, “Sir, there’s no need for all this care. Around Luming, who could possibly outmatch our family?”

Jiang Tengqing’s face darkened. “Quiet! Do you know where you are? This is the Sea Within Residence—the Chong family’s Sea Within Residence!”

The driver, having misjudged the situation, felt a bit aggrieved. “Isn’t it just an inn?”

Jiang Tengqing reprimanded him sharply, “If you don’t understand, keep your mouth shut. Don’t embarrass the Jiang family! Even if it is an inn, it’s the Chong family’s inn!”

Shooting a fierce glare at the driver, Jiang Tengqing alighted, straightened his clothes, and strode to the door of one of the courtyards.

As he approached, a shadow silently appeared, blocking his way.

Though the Jiang family had fallen on hard times, Jiang Tengqing was nonetheless a martial artist of the Yangming level, possessing a measure of strength. Yet he hadn’t noticed this figure’s presence until he was right in front of him!

He hastily put on a flattering smile. “Are you from Lord Flowing Under? I came because I received a letter.”

He handed over the letter. The shadow cast a glance at the envelope, then at him, and finally stepped aside.

Jiang Tengqing was not allowed to enter the courtyard. At the gate, a graceful young woman emerged, her steps light, her smile enchanting. “Lord Thornwood says the Jiang clan leader need only await Lord Flowing Under’s summons at home.”

Jiang Tengqing said eagerly, “So Lord Thornwood came in person! Our Jiang family is a local power—if it would not be an imposition, may we extend the hospitality of a host?”

The young woman listened as if to some distant sound, then covered her mouth with a silvery laugh. “Lord Thornwood says it would indeed be an imposition.”

The refusal was so direct that Jiang Tengqing could only answer awkwardly, “In that case, I’ll take my leave…”

As the carriage rolled away, inside the courtyard a man stood by the window, gazing at the mighty river. Behind him stood another in black, his face concealed by a strip of white cloth on which a thorny briar was drawn, its barbs sharp enough to pierce the eye.

Hands hidden in his sleeves, the man in black glanced outside. “That sort of family, and yet they produced such a girl.”

The man by the window smiled faintly. His wide sleeves bore black water patterns that undulated like real flowing water as he moved.

He lifted a cup, savoring the fragrance of tea. “It’s my good fortune, I suppose.”

The man in black let out a soft laugh; the thorns on his white mask seemed almost to writhe. He bowed his head. “Heaven has decreed, my lord, that you are destined to ascend as a Martial Lord—how else would such a girl be sent before you?”

Lord Flowing Under sighed. “To drug a girl like that—it does feel a pity. But there’s no other way. She was born into that family, and with that bloodline… The atavistic blood of the Medicine People’s descendants—ha!”

He spoke coolly. “Go. Bring her to the capital. Treat her well.”

The man in black bowed and withdrew. Lord Flowing Under set his teacup down with a soft chime, and in the next instant, his figure had vanished.

——

Jiang Feng squatted alone in a nameless valley, a blank sheet of paper spread across a stone slab beside him.

With a sharp stone, he scribbled and sketched on another slab, covering it with lines, words, and numbers.

Ever since he proposed his idea, he’d been trying to make it reality. Only when he began did he realize how complex the task truly was. There were simply too many aspects to consider; it was nearly impossible to account for them all.

With his current abilities, designing an entirely new martial technique was out of the question.

Then he thought of a compromise.

On the day he first met Miss, she’d demonstrated the Falling Thunder Palm before him. Her version was entirely different from what he’d glimpsed in Beijiang.

The master’s display of Falling Thunder Palm had been fierce—unyielding and hard as steel. Yet Miss’s technique was ethereal and graceful, its edge hidden within.

Could ready-made martial techniques be adapted to suit an individual’s unique qualities?

Jiang Feng was experimenting.

He made the final stroke, then reviewed his work from beginning to end, grinning with satisfaction.

Miss had just merged with the Heartseed and could now use Heartforce. He intended to present her with this improved martial technique as a congratulatory gift!

He copied it neatly onto paper, checked it over once more, and, certain there were no mistakes, left the valley and hurried to the little courtyard.

Pushing open the gate, he immediately saw Miss standing as she always did beneath the tree, her slender form wreathed in a faint white glow that made her seem holy and beautiful.

But Jiang Feng instantly sensed something was wrong. Opposite Miss stood a tall, thin man in black, his head crowned with a pointed hat—he looked every bit a messenger of death from legend.

The man in black said coolly, “So you understand the situation. Come with me.”

Miss’s eyes were fixed on him, her face suffused with fury and despair—Jiang Feng had never seen her so agitated. Through gritted teeth, she spat, “Dream on. I’ll never go!”

The man in black sighed in disappointment. “My lord instructed me to treat you well.”

He waved his hand, and only then did Jiang Feng notice the shadowy attendants beside him. At the signal, they stepped forward, reaching for Miss.

“Miss!” Jiang Feng cried, his body springing into action. He lunged forward, flipping his hand to shove one of the men aside.

The man’s attention had been wholly on Miss; Jiang Feng’s sudden intervention caught him off guard. With a deft push, Jiang Feng nearly unbalanced him.

Jiang Feng squared off, shouting, “This is Miss’s home—get out!”

The masked man in black sneered, “To be shamed by a commoner—what an accomplishment.”

The attendants stiffened, then reached for Jiang Feng without hesitation. Jiang Feng dropped his shoulder, ducking under the man’s grasp, hurling himself into his opponent’s arms. With a forward thrust of his elbow, he struck the man square in the chest.

A muffled sound as flesh met flesh—the man was hit, but he didn’t budge. He grunted, squeezing with his arms, but before he could close them, Jiang Feng grabbed his forearm, spun outward, and slipped free.

“Hmph.” The masked man sneered again. The attendant, now flustered, barked, “Gale Finger!”

A ripple of energy shimmered over him, converging at his fingertips. His movements quickened severalfold. Before Jiang Feng could land, the man’s fingers jabbed into his shoulder, puncturing two bloody holes.

Though a Heartforce martial artist, the attendant had needed three exchanges to injure a mere commoner—he was both angry and fearful. He lashed out with Gale Finger again and again, blood blossoming from Jiang Feng’s shoulders and chest until, in the blink of an eye, he was gravely wounded.

During this time, Jiang Feng, accustomed now to analyzing data, was actually studying the man’s movements, speed, and the force of each strike through his pain.

So strong! So this is a Heartforce martial artist!

The faint pride he’d retained after injuring Jiang Huaixiao was utterly extinguished. For the first time, he truly grasped the power of a real martial artist. His skills and reactions, refined as they were, were utterly useless before such overwhelming force—he could only take the blows, helpless to resist.

“Jiang Feng!” Miss’s voice was filled with terror. She rushed to his side, bent over him, and pressed her palm to his chest. White light seeped into his skin, and the bleeding stopped at once.

“How interesting… truly interesting…” The cold, amused voice came from the shadows as the man who had wounded Jiang Feng melted back beneath the trees. The man who had spoken to Miss approached, stooping over Jiang Feng.

Clad in black, hands hidden in his sleeves, his pointed hat draped with white cloth, a twisting thorn pattern on the mask—Jiang Feng could not see his eyes, but felt the chill of his gaze, assessing him as though he were nothing more than a slab of pork.

“To face three moves from Blackwood Three as a mere commoner—though he is somewhat inept, this is still remarkable.”

Jiang Feng suddenly felt a cold breath sweep down from his head to his feet—a sense of foreboding.

The man then examined Jiang Feng’s wounds. Thanks to his own healing and Miss’s powers, the bleeding had stopped, and the wounds even began to knit together.

“No wonder—the atavistic blood of the Medicine People’s descendants…”

Turning to Miss, the man’s voice carried a note of satisfaction. “Don’t waste your strength resisting. Your fate—you’ve long known it, haven’t you? To be chosen by Lord Flowing Under—that’s your fortune.”

Then his tone turned icy. “If there’s something you care about, don’t destroy it with your own hands!”

Miss clenched her fists, jaw tight, trembling all over. She was always so calm and composed—Jiang Feng had never seen her like this.

Something she cares about? Me? Is he threatening her with my life?

Straightening his back, Jiang Feng tried to rise, but Miss seemed prepared; she pressed him down firmly.

She lowered her gaze, her chest heaving. After a struggle, she managed to steady herself. Rising, she bowed low. “Yes, I understand. I will go with you to meet Lord Flowing Under.”

What? Jiang Feng cried out, “Miss, don’t!”

The white cloth fluttered; the man in black sounded pleased. “Excellent. Lord Flowing Under has not taken a disciple in many years. With you, he will spare no effort in teaching. The Jiang family is nothing—follow him, and you ascend in one leap!”

——

Thanks to fatfox911 for your continual support! Please support the new book!