Chapter 87: The Middle-aged Man in the Azure Robe of the Plum Grove

At this moment, seeing Bi Fang surging towards him in a blaze of fire, Bai Mu was struck with terror. He hastily lowered his body, nearly pressing his face to the ground as he sped into the plum grove ahead, hoping to use the dense trees to engage Bi Fang in a guerrilla battle. Once he was fully flattened against the earth and had entered the grove, he anxiously looked back, only to be stunned by the scene before him.

Bi Fang, whom he’d expected to attack him, had instead come to a halt at the spot where Bai Mu had just been standing. The bird made no move to pursue or press its advantage; even the fierce flames cloaking its body had quietly faded, leaving no trace of murderous intent in the air.

Turning back, Bai Mu found Bi Fang had also turned to face him. Man and bird regarded each other for a moment, and in the absence of hostility in the other's gaze, both gradually relaxed.

A melodious and lingering flute melody suddenly drifted through the layers of plum trees, reaching Bai Mu's ears. The music carried a hint of liveliness, yet beneath it lay a subtle touch of melancholy. Its bright notes were as pleasing as mountain springs striking stone, while its swifter passages sliced through the air like a knife, chilling the soul.

As the flute’s tune reached its peak, the fierce Bi Fang standing before the wooden cottage began to dance gracefully. Bi Fang was a renowned creature, its movements not as nimble as the blue birds of Kunlun Glacier nor as imposing as the legendary Vermilion Bird, yet its fiery form possessed a unique charm.

The harmony of flute and bird was so captivating that Bai Mu found himself entranced. Most astonishing of all, the music seemed to carry healing properties; as the piece neared its end, the old wound Bai Mu had aggravated during his escape gradually ceased to ache, replaced by a gentle warmth that felt like spring sunlight.

When the music faded, Bi Fang had already spread its wings and vanished deep into the plum grove.

Who, then, was the mysterious musician? The sound, alternately lively and plaintive, left behind an undertone of loneliness. Bai Mu could not help but wonder what manner of soul could be so sensitive and sorrowful.

But what truly puzzled him was the flute’s power to command Bi Fang. For Bi Fang was no ordinary bird—it was one of the four great beasts of the Wilds. How could it suddenly dance to a flute?

The mystery seemed unfathomable.

With these questions swirling in his mind, Bai Mu hurried into the depths of the plum grove, determined to uncover the secret of the mysterious musician.

After advancing about two hundred paces, the scenery opened up before him. The plum trees grew sparse, and at the heart of the grove, a clearing appeared.

In its center stood a small pavilion adorned with carved beams and painted columns, modest in size but exuding an ancient elegance unique to its design.

Within the grove stood a figure clad in a dark blue, floor-length robe, his back turned to Bai Mu, hands clasped behind him. Between the index and middle fingers of his right hand was a flute, pure white from end to end. Its material was indiscernible at a glance, but the swirling aura of immortality surrounding it declared to all that this was a rare and holy artifact.

The man was imposing, about six and a half feet tall—not broad-shouldered, but solidly built from his silhouette. His jet-black hair was casually gathered with a jade hairpin behind him, topped by a simple knot.

His posture, hands behind his back, radiated effortless ease and elegance. Though Bai Mu had yet to see his face, he could already surmise that this man was no ordinary beauty.

“You’ve finally awakened?”

As Bai Mu studied him, the man in blue spoke without turning, his voice not loud but imbued with the weight unique to middle age.

“Yes, I’m awake,” Bai Mu replied hurriedly, then asked with curiosity, “Why do you say ‘finally’? Have I been asleep for a long time?”

“Three days,” the man answered succinctly, twisting at the waist to turn and face Bai Mu.

His face bore no beard nor any marks of age—so clean it was almost startling. The square face wore a confident yet serene smile. Though he appeared to be past forty, his brow was unlined, untouched by the years. His eyes shone with a brilliance that spoke of profound wisdom, his features and bearing embodying the saying: ‘A gentleman as flawless as jade.’

“What is your name?” the man asked in a friendly tone, his shrewd gaze assessing the handsome youth before him.

“My surname is Bai, given name Mu. I am seventeen,” Bai Mu answered truthfully, his nerves making him glance at the man out of the corner of his eye.

When their eyes met, Bai Mu felt a faint aura of nobility and refinement emanate from the man, akin to the lofty chill of a royal court—so imposing that it made him feel as if the heights were unattainable.

“Oh…” The man paused, then asked in a deep voice, “Are you just an ordinary human youth?”

“Yes,” Bai Mu replied obediently, intimidated by the man’s aura. At the moment of questioning, only one instinct remained in his heart: to answer honestly and not utter a single lie.

This was remarkable for Bai Mu, who had always been proud and fearless—even before ancient demons like the Gray Crane Ancestor, he had never flinched. Yet the ethereal presence of this man unsettled him deeply.

While Bai Mu’s thoughts were in disarray, the man in blue spoke again.

“If you are a true human, why do you possess such extraordinary cultivation at so young an age?”

“And how did you come by the Holy Sword Azure Dragon?”

“Azure Dragon?”

Hearing those words, Bai Mu’s heart skipped a beat. He recalled that when he awoke in the wooden hut by the plum grove, his Azure Dragon Sword had already disappeared.

His heart trembled as he quickly asked, “Senior, whose hands now hold the Azure Dragon Sword?”

The man in blue let out a hearty laugh, shaking the plum blossoms from the trees and startling Bi Fang outside the pavilion so much that the fiery bird nearly took flight.

After laughing, the man extended a strong, graceful arm and pointed to the left side of the grove. “Look—there is your Azure Dragon Sword.”

Following his gesture, Bai Mu saw, twenty meters outside the pavilion, his cherished Holy Sword Azure Dragon lying among the plum trees, just as it had always been.