Chapter 3: Case of Tengyun Pavilion

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As Fang Duobing strode through the bustling streets of Jiazhou City, his mind seethed with fury and determination. The memory of Li Lianhua's betrayal burned like a raging inferno within him, driving him forward with an unrelenting resolve.

"Li Lianhua," he seethed inwardly, his voice a silent vow of vengeance. "I must catch you to vent my anger, even if I have to go to the end of the world."

With each step he took, his determination hardened, his senses sharpened by the singular focus of his mission. He would not rest until he had tracked down Li Lianhua and brought him to justice for his treachery.

But for Fang Duobing, the pursuit of Li Lianhua was not merely a matter of duty—it was a personal vendetta, a quest for redemption in the face of betrayal.

[Tengyun Pavilion]

Inside the grand halls of the Tengyun Pavilion, Fang Duobing found himself amidst a gathering of esteemed seniors, their faces etched with solemnity and reverence. As he listened intently to their discussions, the weight of the mysteries surrounding the recent events hung heavy in the air.

"So, tell me," Duobing began, his voice tinged with curiosity, "what exactly transpired here at the Lingshan Sect?"

The eldest among them, a venerable figure with a crown of silver hair, spoke with a measured tone, his words carrying the weight of age-old wisdom. "The head of the Lingshan Sect ascended in public," he explained, his gaze distant as he recounted the events of that fateful day. "He proclaimed to all his followers that he had been guided by the deity, cultivating three flowers gathering at the top and five energy circulating within."

Duobing listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he processed the information. "And then?" he prompted, eager to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden within the sect's hallowed halls.

The senior nodded solemnly, his eyes dark with somber recollection. "And then," he continued, "he spoke of leaving his mortal body behind to protect his disciples. He declared that when they beheld a golden body in the future, it would be as if they were seeing him in the flesh."

Duobing's mind raced with questions, his thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a whirlwind. "But how could such a thing happen?" he wondered aloud, his voice filled with disbelief. "And what of the note that accompanied his passing?"

The seniors exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions mirroring Duobing's own sense of bewilderment. "The note," one of them began, his voice barely above a whisper, "it spoke of destiny predetermined—a prophecy of sorts. It foretold the return of an heir, reborn as a 16-year-old immortal boy with a lotus mole on his right foot, born in the southwest of the city in early April."

Duobing's eyes widened in astonishment, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place before him. "So," he mused, his voice barely audible, "the head of the Lingshan Sect simply... died, and became a golden body."

As Fang Duobing and his two assistants began their examination of Changsheng Palace, the air hummed with tension and anticipation. Wei Bai, one of the disciples, stepped forward with a troubled expression, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"I think something is wrong, that's why we have called you," Wei Bai said, his head bowed in deference.

Fang Duobing nodded gravely, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a keen gaze. "Do not worry," he reassured them, his voice steady and resolute. "We will get to the bottom of this mystery."

As they reached the spot where the incident had occurred, Fang Duobing paused, his senses alert for any clues that might shed light on the truth. He surveyed the area carefully, his mind racing with possibilities.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the entrance of the palace, the sound of raised voices echoing through the air. Fang Duobing hurried towards the disturbance, his instincts telling him that something was amiss.

As he approached, he saw the guards shouting angrily at a figure slumped against the wall. With a sense of urgency, Fang Duobing pushed his way through the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest.

As Fang Duobing stood face to face with Li Lianhua, a smirk played at the corners of his lips, a mix of amusement and frustration dancing in his eyes.

"What a coincidence, Doctor Li," Duobing chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought it would take a long time to find you. I didn't expect that karma's a bitch. We meet again so soon. What a coincidence."

With a swift motion, Duobing moved to push Li with his martial skill, but he stopped short, a look of disdain crossing his features as he observed Li's weak stance and feeble defense.

"You're empty inside," Duobing observed, his voice laced with scorn. "Your dantian is weak. You really don't know martial arts? Your body is weak too and can't stand torture."

A sense of frustration simmered beneath Duobing's calm facade as he recalled the embarrassment he had suffered at Li's hands in front of the esteemed Hall of Wind and Flame.

"But despite your weaknesses," Duobing continued, his tone hardening with resolve, "you still managed to embarrass me, a representative of Baichuan Academy, in front of the entire martial world."

Li Lianhua's lips curved into a sly smile as he heard Duobing's refusal. "I can help you solve the case," he offered, his voice calm and composed. "I have insights that may prove valuable in uncovering the truth behind Head Wang's death."

But Duobing's pride refused to accept Li's offer of assistance. With a scoff, he retorted, "I'll get into it myself. I don't need you, a talkative fake miracle-working doctor, to help me."

Before Li Lianhua could protest further, he felt a strange sensation around his wrist. To his surprise, Duobing had cast a spell, weaving an invisible magical thread that bound Li Lianhua's hand to his own. 

"Consider this thread your leash," Duobing remarked with a smirk, his voice laced with a hint of warning. "It will keep me updated with your location, so don't even think of running."

Li Lianhua's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he felt the invisible thread tighten around his wrist, binding him to Fang Duobing. "You are so silly, wasting your lover's thread on me," he remarked, his tone teasing. "Make sure you don't fall for me."

With a playful flick of his wrist, Li Lianhua raised his hand, the light catching the thread as it shimmered in the air. His flirtatious remark caused a flicker of surprise to dance across Duobing's features, but he quickly masked his reaction with a stern expression.

"Shut up," Duobing retorted sharply, his voice betraying none of the turmoil that churned within him at Li Lianhua's playful taunt.

Though Li Lianhua's words had stirred something unexpected within him, Duobing refused to let it show, determined to maintain his composure in the face of the doctor's playful banter.

To be continued..

[In the Fang family, an invisible magical thread is kept for their beloveds. Passed down through generations, this thread binds hearts and tracks the location of their other halves. If danger looms, its subtle tug alerts them, ensuring protection. Mastering this elusive magic is a rare and cherished skill, known only to the Fangs, safeguarding their cherished bonds from afar.]

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