Yan Ran Laugh

Song Qingshu was a man of audacity and unwavering determination, paying little heed to societal norms. Sensing Yun Zhonghe's skepticism, he met it head-on, his voice dripping with conviction. "I'm willing to take a cursed oath, but you gotta do the same. Swear to me that you'll never harm a virtuous woman..."

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Yun Zhonghe reluctantly gave in, realizing he had no better options. As Song Qingshu uttered his cursed oath, a flicker of doubt danced in Yun Zhonghe's eyes. Nevertheless, he mirrored the gesture, his voice tinged with derision. "If the day comes when I dare to harm an innocent woman, let the heavens strike me down." Deep down, he sneered, doubting the heavens' ability to deliver such retribution. Could they truly punish him?

Unperturbed by the trickery embedded in Yun Zhonghe's oath, Song Qingshu shrugged it off. He knew, from the tales of legendary outlaws and gunslingers, that breaking an oath had severe consequences. He firmly believed that the curse would hold its power. With their vows sealed, Yun Zhonghe hesitated before cautiously revealing the formula for Tasha Wuhen, his words laced with caution. "...the dispersing technique, a sacred art of celestial envoys. To wield its power, one must remain in constant motion..."

Song Qingshu's eyes sparkled with newfound understanding as he absorbed the instructions. A profound lightness seemed to envelop his being. Fixing his gaze on a distant mountain wall, teetering on the edge of a treacherous cliff, an unwavering determination surged through him. With resolute resolve, he stepped forward, his body gliding through the air like a swift and lethal bullet. In the blink of an eye, he reached the opposing mountain wall. With a nimble flip and a gentle tap of his boots, he darted back with unmatched agility.

Yun Zhonghe, his eyes widened in disbelief, stared at Song Qingshu in sheer horror. Never could he have imagined that his protégé would grasp the art of lightness so swiftly, surpassing even his own abilities by a wide margin.

"Well, this time I'll show mercy. I'll spare your life," Song Qingshu declared, his elation palpable as he released Yun Zhonghe from his captive state. Waving his hand dismissively, he delivered a solemn warning, "Keep in mind, the gods are watching, and they won't forget your oath."

The Crane in the Clouds, picking up the discarded silver crane claws from the ground, cast a complex gaze upon Song Qingshu. "Your talent is truly extraordinary. In due time, you'll become the reigning ruler of these lands," he mumbled, descending the mountain alone, leaving Song Qingshu to contemplate his newfound gift.

Song Qingshu could hardly believe the natural aptitude he possessed for lightness. The "Treading on the Sand Wuhen" technique resonated with him deeply, and he knew that, with dedication and time, he would achieve unmatched mastery.

As he pondered his lack of talent in other martial arts, yet his innate affinity for Qinggong and the Soul-Shifting Technique, a peculiar thought crossed Song Qingshu's mind. Was he destined to be an outlaw?

With a sharp cry, Mu Wanqing jolted awake, her eyes darting around the surroundings. Song Qingshu's face transformed into that familiar silly expression as he squatted beside her, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

As Mu Wanqing regained consciousness, a wave of dread washed over her. She remembered being pierced by Yun Zhonghe's acupuncture needles before succumbing to unconsciousness, and her heart sank. If her purity had been violated, she would pay the ultimate price, just as Duan Lang had.

Blinking her eyes open, she was met with the sight of Song Qingshu's beaming face looming close. Startled, she let out a piercing scream, causing Song Qingshu to jerk back and retreat a few steps, his face etched with confusion.

Shaking off her initial fear, Mu Wanqing recognized his familiar attire and mustered the courage to speak, though uncertainty tinged her voice, "Are you Dog Egg?"

"Yeah, yeah, pretty lady, you remember me?" Song Qingshu's excitement was palpable as he inched closer.

"No! Stay away!" Mu Wanqing shrieked, her mind suddenly flooded with thoughts of Yun Zhonghe. She quickly assessed her body, relieved to find herself fully clothed and seemingly untouched. Confusion etched her features as she questioned, "What happened to that scrawny fellow earlier?" Describing Crane in the Cloud's appearance, she assumed Song Qingshu was an ignorant country bumpkin, unaware of the renowned martial artist.

"Oh, you mean that guy? I took care of him," Song Qingshu replied with an earnest smile.

"You?" Mu Wanqing scrutinized him skeptically, his disheveled appearance and foolish demeanor fueling her doubt.

"You don't believe me?" Song Qingshu seemed to anticipate her disbelief as he raised his fist. "I'm strong, you know. I grew up in the mountains, fighting bears and gorillas. I can knock out a buffalo with a single punch." His chin jutted out proudly, like a child eager to impress.

"Ha! Give me a break," Mu Wanqing scoffed, turning her head away, refusing to entertain him any longer.

"Alright then, I'll show you," Song Qingshu, feeling slighted, grew anxious. Rolling up his sleeves impatiently, he struck a powerful blow at the nearby towering tree.

A resounding crack filled the air as Mu Wanqing's eyes widened in disbelief. The massive tree snapped in half, its trunk broken at the waist. She stared at the fool before her, a mixture of shock and awe coursing through her veins.

Song Qingshu heaved a sigh deep within. His punch had embodied the mighty Fumo Fist from the Jiuyin Scriptures—a strike of immense power. Yet, when Zhang Wuji wielded the Guangming Seven-Sound Fist, he obliterated a tree of the same girth into mere powder. In contrast, Song Qingshu had only managed to fracture the tree, leaving a noticeable gap.

Regaining his composure, Song Qingshu turned to Mu Wanqing with a grin. "See? I told you I'm pretty darn good."

Still reeling from the spectacle, Mu Wanqing's gaze settled on his unmasked face. Despite the imperfections marring his features, she discerned a trace of handsomeness. Unable to contain her curiosity, she spoke softly, "How did you remove your mask? Did you take it off?"

"My mom always said only a woman who's gonna marry me oughta unveil it," Song Qingshu paused, watching Mu Wanqing's slight unease. "But then I remembered she also said that girls are all shy, and they... they get all flustered... Ah, what was that word again? It's on the tip of my tongue..." Song Qingshu feigned contemplation, wearing an exaggerated expression of deep thought.

"Bashful!" Mu Wanqing interjected, her voice tinged with frustration.

Song Qingshu's eyes gleamed in realization, his voice filled with newfound resolve. "Hold up, darlin', somethin' my ma said got me thinkin'. You, my beautiful lady, exude an air of elegance and restraint. Deep down, I reckon you might be too bashful to unveil my mask on your own. As a man, it's my duty to take the lead."

"Quit talkin' nonsense!" Mu Wanqing's anger trembled in her voice, her frustration evident. "Who in the world harbors any affection for you in their heart?"

"Ya reckon?" Song Qingshu's face twisted in confusion. "In them tales, when a fair maiden gets snatched by them low-down varmints out in the wild, a gallant young knight comes ridin' in to save the day. And guess what? That knight happens to be me! Them villains get their comeuppance, and the damsel's left standin'. Ain't she s'posed to feel obliged to surrender herself?"

"Whoever said a woman's gotta surrender just 'cause she's been rescued?" Mu Wanqing's cheeks flushed with a mix of indignation and embarrassment. Livin' most of her life secluded with her master, Duan Yu, she ain't never come across no other young fellas. Now, bamboozled by Song Qingshu, she found herself caught in a mess, strugglin' to find the right words to put him in his place. "And let's say, even if we entertain that idea, what kinda knight are you?"

Song Qingshu let out a dramatic wail, rollin' on the ground in an apparent agony. "Dang it all! Ma was right! You must think I'm downright repulsive, nothin' compared to them dashing knights from them tales."

Mu Wanqing turned her head, takin' in their surroundings, searchin' for any escape from this absurd situation. Witnessin' Song Qingshu's heartrendin' display, she felt a pang of sympathy, unable to bear his sufferin' any longer. Softenin' her voice, she offered a comfortin' reassurance, "It ain't like that, Song Qingshu."

Her words hit him like a gust of wind, promptin' Song Qingshu to shoot to his feet. "So, you're sayin' you'd be willin' to be my wife then?"

Mu Wanqing choked on her breath, his proposal catchin' her off guard. Yet, as the day faded into darkness and the wild surrounded 'em, she found herself in a perilous situation, held captive and unable to escape. A sense of forebodin' washed over her, promptin' her to respond cautiously, her voice carryin' a fragile smile, "Hold yer horses, pardner. First, release these restraints on me, and then we can talk about this matter further."

Mu Wanqing's countenance, once cold and resolute, transformed in the blink of an eye. Her sudden smile resembled the arrival of spring, a burst of color in the midst of winter's grip. Song Qingshu, struck by an invisible force, felt as though a heavy hammer had collided with his chest. Regret seeped into his thoughts, realizin' the foolishness of his actions. "Thought I was just pullin' her leg, but looks like I ended up ropin' myself, losin' more than I ever bargained for."