Chapter 525 The Sword God Returns
Shen Mo returned to his courtyard as quickly as possible. Pushing open the door, he found the house unlit, with only a bright moon shining through the window, casting a cool glow that spread a thin layer of silver frost on the ground.
However, under the hazy moonlight, he could clearly see two familiar figures sitting side by side on the bed.
Murong Qing and Situ Meng did not go to bed, but waited quietly.
Their figures appeared exceptionally soft in the moonlight, like two gentle jade statues.
This scene is so similar to that moonlit night two years ago!
At that time, he was dressed in a bright red wedding robe. When he pushed open the door, he saw two figures filled with expectation and shyness.
Time seemed to overlap at this moment; the two years of separation and the hardships of traveling thousands of miles seemed to have turned into a wisp of smoke outside the window and vanished without a trace.
Shen Mo's gaze slowly swept across the room.
The rosewood dressing table still held Murong Qing's usual celadon rouge box; the antique shelf in the corner displayed several scrolls of landscape paintings hand-painted by Situ Meng; even the brocade quilt embroidered with twin lotus flowers on the bed was exactly the same as in his memory.
Everything remained unchanged, as if time had stood still here for two whole years, just to await his return.
This painstaking waiting stirred up an indescribable mix of sorrow and warmth in Shen Mo's heart.
They didn't complain about his departure with any words, but silently expressed their longing and steadfastness with this unchanging house.
Hearing the door open, the two women turned around at the same time.
When they saw that it was Shen Mo, there was no resentment on their faces from waiting for so long. Instead, their faces instantly blossomed into beautiful smiles, filled with pure joy and peace of mind.
They got up almost simultaneously and quickly came to greet them.
Murong Qing moved even faster. She walked up to Shen Mo, looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tenderness, and spoke softly as if afraid of disturbing the beautiful night: "You're back? Have you eaten anything to fill your stomach? There's soup simmering in the room."
Situ Meng silently took the outer robe he had taken off. It was slightly cool to the touch, indicating that he had been walking outside for a long time.
She carefully hung up his robe, then turned to pour him a cup of warm tea, handed it to him, and said softly, "Have some tea to warm yourself up; it's chilly at night."
Their movements were fluid and perfectly in sync, with no competition, only tender care.
They flanked him gently, one on each side, and led him into the inner room.
That familiar, sweet fragrance, a blend of orchid and warm jade, enveloped him once again, dispelling the last trace of chill and weariness from the outside world.
Looking at the two beautiful faces before him, and feeling the warmth from their palms, all of Shen Mo's defenses and hardness melted away at that moment.
He reached out and put his arm around one of them, pulling them back into his embrace.
This time, it was no longer the restrained, comforting embrace of the daytime, but a deeper, more passionate outpouring of emotion.
The candlelight inside the room was blown out quietly by someone at some point, and the moonlight became the only source of light.
The world seemed to consist only of the three of them and their intertwined heartbeats.
No superfluous words were needed; everything was understood without being said.
Shen Mo lowered his head, gently pressing his forehead against Murong Qing's, then turned to Situ Meng, offering the same intimacy.
His kiss first landed on Murong Qing's smooth forehead, carrying a cherished promise; then it was imprinted on Situ Meng's trembling eyelashes, filled with silent comfort.
The two women nestled obediently against him, their cheeks flushed with a faint blush, like newly blossoming peach blossoms.
Their hands, either gently stroking his back or wrapping around his arms, conveyed a silent sense of trust and acceptance.
The air was filled with a sweet and warm scent that was intoxicating—the scent of home, the tranquility of a wanderer finally returning to port.
Shen Mo led them slowly toward the bed that held so many beautiful memories.
The brocade quilt is soft, like a cloud.
He carefully settled them in, then lay down himself. The three of them embraced tightly, their skin touching, their body heat mingling.
Outside the window, the moonlight flowed quietly, gilding this small space with a layer of holy silver glow.
In this ultimate tranquility and intimacy, all the clamor surrounding the martial arts world fades away completely.
At this moment, he was no longer the "Sword God" who saved the martial arts world of the Central Plains, nor the Heavenly Demon God who shouldered heavy responsibilities; he was simply a husband who had finally returned to his beloved's side.
His fingers ran through Murong Qing's flowing black hair, then gently grasped Situ Meng's cool hand, their fingers intertwined.
In this silent tenderness, a communication deeper than words is taking place.
It was a resonance of souls, a fusion of bloodlines, a confirmation of each other's existence and a filling of the void in our hearts in the most primal and sacred way after two years of separation.
Every breath we shared, every heartbeat we resonated with, spoke of the relief of parting and the vow to never be apart.
The night is still long.
But for them, this long night was the most precious time of their lives.
In this room, exactly as they remembered it, they gently filled in the blanks of the past two years, stroke by stroke.
......
As dawn breaks, the first rays of golden light pierce through the thick clouds and fall upon the ancient bluestone slabs of Nanjing.
However, what awakened this important town of martial arts even before the rising sun was a message that spread like wildfire—the "Sword God" has returned!
The news seemed to have grown wings, flying out from the towering walls of the Martial Alliance, skimming over the swaying pleasure boats on the Qinhuai River, and penetrating every alley and tavern.
In an instant, the entire city was in an uproar.
In the streets and alleys, in teahouses and restaurants, people were talking about only one thing: the legendary figure who single-handedly forced Emperor Jianzhen to retreat from Nanjing had finally returned!
Countless young swordsmen who admired the "Sword God" flocked to Nanjing from all directions, like bees drawn by the scent of honey.
They either galloped on horseback, kicking up clouds of dust, or walked together, covered in dust but with burning eyes.
Their faces were filled with longing and fervor, as if they were on a pilgrimage. Some talked loudly about how the "Sword God" had defeated his enemy with a single sword strike, while others repeatedly depicted his solitary figure in black robes carrying a sword.
Nanjing has never been so bustling.
The streets were bustling with people, inns and taverns were packed, and even the pleasure boats on the Qinhuai River seemed rather deserted due to the sharp decrease in guests.
All eyes and all expectations were focused on the majestic headquarters of the Martial Arts Alliance.
The center of the martial arts world was redefined because of the title "Sword God".
His name has long transcended its status as a mere symbol of martial prowess, becoming a spiritual totem representing the unyielding backbone and hope of the righteous martial arts world.
His very existence is the most powerful deterrent to all petty people.