Chapter 23: Golden Blossoms of Twin Lotuses Reveal a Jade Hibiscus
Chapter 23: Golden Blossoms of Twin Lotuses Reveal a Jade Hibiscus
At that moment, a clear, resonant laugh suddenly rang out from amongst the crowd on the western side of the Sacred Altar, piercing straight through to the highest heavens.
This laugh caused the assembled heroes to turn their heads, their gazes sweeping towards the source. The person laughing heartily was none other than the City Lord of Broken Heart City, Gu Fengchen.
Naturally, Gongshu Mo understood Gu Fengchen’s background. Frowning slightly, he said, “Why does City Lord Gu laugh? Are you perhaps laughing at this very ceremony?” Gu Fengchen ceased his laughter. “Correct. That is precisely my meaning.”
As soon as these words left his mouth, expressions of displeasure appeared on the faces of the Red Lotus Sect members. Even the leaders of the Four Great Clans exchanged puzzled glances.
Shen Rou asked, “If I may ask, according to City Lord Gu, what is so laughable about our humble sect’s succession ceremony? Please enlighten us.” Gu Fengchen stood up, walked slowly to the edge of the red carpet, faced the heroes of the realm, and then spoke. “I merely laugh because this ceremony has a reputation without substance. It’s not worth a glance.”
Hearing this, even with her considerable poise, Shen Rou’s face showed displeasure. She replied coldly, “What do you mean by ‘a reputation without substance’?”
Gu Fengchen said, “To speak relatively small, a succession is like an official taking up their seal. To speak larger, it is like becoming an emperor. In either case, there ought to be a token of proof—an official seal or, say, the Imperial Seal. Let me ask: where then is the great seal or imperial jade seal of the Red Lotus Sect?”
As these words fell, the assembled heroes looked at one another in confusion. However, Shen Rou and the other prominent figures of the Red Lotus Sect felt a violent shock in their hearts. They understood Gu Fengchen’s implication. Every Cult Leader inherited a token of proof from the previous Cult Leader. And this very token… had been lost.
To speak only of recent times, during Ling Yufeng’s succession, the ceremonial object had already been missing for decades. As for who possessed it now, no one in the Red Lotus Sect knew. Thus, over the past several decades, this had become a secret closely guarded by the Red Lotus Sect, naturally unknown to outsiders.
And now, at today’s Succession Ceremony, Gu Fengchen suddenly made such a statement in public, utterly unexpected and abrupt. For a moment, no one could guess his true intentions. Yet, Shen Rou and the others faintly sensed that Gu Fengchen’s words surely concealed a devastating follow-up move, one not yet revealed.
Shen Rou gave a faint smile. “City Lord Gu is mistaken. How could those of us who belong to the Jianghu be like the imperial court? Let alone speak of emperors! Grand seals and imperial jade seals—I’ve never heard such things mentioned.”
Gu Fengchen turned to ask Gongshu Mo, “What say you, Gate Master Gongshu?”
The matter of the missing token had always been kept extremely confidential within the Red Lotus Sect. Apart from successive generations of Cult Leaders, only the Three Kings might know of it. Those below this rank had never even heard of such a token. Gongshu Mo, positioned beneath the Eight Steeds, naturally knew even less. Therefore, he could only prevaricate. “This… is a matter internal to our Red Lotus Sect. Outsiders need not interfere.”
Gu Fengchen laughed heartily. “The truth is, the Red Lotus Sect does possess a ceremonial token. To my knowledge, in the past when the Red Lotus Sect underwent succession, the incoming Cult Leader would bathe and burn incense in purification, receive the ceremonial token, and wear it upon their person. Only then did they become the true Cult Leader of the Red Lotus Sect. At the start of the Succession Ceremony, the token was to be presented for veneration. However, for the succession of the last few Cult Leaders, this ritual has been absent. The reason? The ceremonial token is no longer within the Red Lotus Sect.”
As soon as these words were uttered, it instantly caused a stir of discussion. Expressions of shock and suspicion spread among the assembled heroes. They all thought: how did this City Lord of Broken Heart City come to know such a closely guarded secret of the Red Lotus Sect?
Shen Rou remained impassive. “Even if it were lost, it wouldn’t matter. As City Lord Gu says, an emperor can still rule without the imperial seal. Moreover, this is purely an internal affair of the Red Lotus Sect. Broken Heart City has no business meddling.”
Gu Fengchen countered, “But I have heard that within the rules of the Red Lotus Sect, there is a specific clause: anyone who obtains the ceremonial token gains the qualification to participate in the election for Cult Leader. Is that not so?” Shen Rou replied, “Correct. There is indeed such a rule.” Gu Fengchen smiled. “Excellent.” So saying, he gave a slight wave behind him. Hua Yuehen then presented a box, walking slowly to stand before Gu Fengchen and offering it with both hands.
The eyes of everyone present fell upon the box. They all wondered: could this perhaps contain the very token?
Shen Rou’s heart also raced. As she was closest to Ling Ling, she was deeply familiar with the matter of the token. However, the object had been lost for over fifty or sixty years. Could it have truly fallen into Gu Fengchen’s hands? If so, then this truly meant troubles never came singly. Just dealing with Gongshu Mo was difficult enough; adding Gu Fengchen to the mix…
As this thought crossed her mind, a sudden flash of inspiration struck Shen Rou, and a clever scheme instantly formed.
Within the Red Lotus Sect, Shen Rou was renowned as its most resourceful strategist. This was precisely why she was the ideal person to preside over the ceremony—she could handle any situation that arose. She always devised the best solutions, a skill beyond mere martial prowess. This was especially crucial when facing the assembled heroes of the realm; she could neither show weakness nor appear overbearingly arrogant—a delicate balance exceptionally hard to maintain.
Shen Rou gave another faint smile and said, “What City Lord Gu holds in his hands… could it be our sect’s long-lost ceremonial token?” Gu Fengchen replied, “Whether it really is the object or not, I myself am not entirely certain. Hence, I would like to invite members of your esteemed sect to examine it.”
With that, he slowly opened the box and retrieved the golden wrist talisman within.
The sunlight at that moment was brilliant. The wrist talisman glistened dazzlingly under its glare. Many among the assembled heroes were connoisseurs. Just one glance at the craftsmanship and material confirmed its extraordinary nature, causing them to draw in sharp breaths, eyes wide open as if trying to absorb the object through their view.
It was evident. This wrist talisman was indeed a priceless treasure wrought with heavenly skill, a masterpiece of uncanny workmanship.
At the sight of it, Shen Rou was enormously startled. Silently, to herself, she murmured its name: “Twin Lotuses!” She, along with Gui Qulai and Xue Wuhen, approached. Gu Fengchen made no protest and handed the talisman over to them. The three examined it for a long while, expressions of joy spreading across their faces. Though none had seen the talisman before, they had heard the Cult Leader describe it. Indeed, such an object existed. Now, examining it carefully, they saw characters engraved upon its surface: “Receiving Heaven’s blessings above, respecting the will of the people below.”
Originally, the Red Lotus Sect was called the White Lotus Sect. During a tumultuous era fraught with unrest and warfare across the lands, the White Lotus Cult Leader of that time held ambitious plans to vie for control of the empire. When creating this wrist talisman, he intended it to be passed down perpetually through future generations. He therefore inscribed his aspirations upon it. “Receiving Heaven’s blessings above” signified obeying the Mandate of Heaven, also echoing the characteristics of the White Lotus. “Respecting the will of the people below” meant winning the hearts of the populace to contend for the realm. Though their uprising ultimately failed and they retreated into the Jianghu, this Twin Lotus talisman remained as the Cult Leader’s ceremonial token, passed down through each generation.
Upon seeing these eight characters, Shen Rou and the other two exchanged a glance and silently nodded their confirmation. According to conventional Jianghu perceptions, the inscriptions on the ceremonial tokens of martial sects typically bore words like “Unify the Jianghu”, “Command Awe in the Jianghu”, or “Bestow Blessings upon the Martial World”. They would never bear these particular eight characters. Therefore, even if it were a forgery, the forger would absolutely never think to inscribe these words.
Seeing the wrist talisman was undoubtedly genuine, Shen Rou gave a faint smile and returned it to Gu Fengchen. “It is indeed the true ceremonial token. May we inquire, City Lord Gu, from where did you obtain this?” Gu Fengchen replied, “I didn’t seek it out deliberately. It was, rather, a chance acquisition by skillful means. Its origin isn’t what matters. What matters is this: holding the token, do I now possess the qualification to participate in the election for Cult Leader?”
Shen Rou nodded with a smile. “Rules cannot be broken, especially traditions upheld for centuries. City Lord Gu, in retrieving the ceremonial token, you have become a benefactor to our sect. Naturally, you are qualified to participate in the selection. However, according to our sect’s regulations, merely possessing the token doesn’t guarantee the position of Cult Leader. You must still pass through a contest of martial skills.”
Gu Fengchen agreed readily. “That is perfectly natural and well-considered. Indeed, imagine if an ordinary man happened upon it by chance. Would the entire Red Lotus Sect then be obliged to follow his command? A contest of martial arts is the fairest approach possible.”
After saying that, he came before Gongshu Mo and clasped his hands. “Gate Master Gongshu, I too hold the qualification to contend for the Cult Leader position. I now humbly seek your instruction in the upcoming contest.”
Gongshu Mo frowned slightly, thinking privately that this was bad. He well knew Gu Fengchen’s Internal Energy and lacked full confidence in defeating him. Moreover, even if he won, he would likely end up half-dead; dealing with Ping’er afterward would become unpredictable. Thinking this, he rolled his eyes, gave two sudden cold laughs, and addressed Shen Rou. “I suspected you all harbored a sinister scheme, and indeed, it unfolded exactly as I predicted.”
Shen Rou raised her brows. “Oh? What do you mean, Gate Master Gongshu?”
Gongshu Mo sneered coldly. “Realizing you couldn’t defeat me, you invited an external expert to assist. Fearing he would lack justification to participate, you concocted a talisman to deceive everyone! All so Gu Fengchen could step forth openly! Isn’t it so? I’ve been in the Red Lotus Sect for years and never heard of any such talisman!”
Shen Rou’s true intention had indeed been for Gu Fengchen to defeat Gongshu Mo, because she faintly guessed that Gongshu Mo must be a spy embedded in the Red Lotus Sect by the Four Great Clans, evident from Gongshu Mo’s Internal Energy techniques. However, that talisman was genuine; the matter was too grave to clarify briefly. Even if explained, the assembled heroes might not trust it, especially since the Four Great Clans would deny involvement and incite refutations, making her position vulnerable. Seeming that only through this ploy could she sway the crowd, she resolved to act.
After thinking it over, she smiled and said to Gongshu Mo, “You believe this affair is unfounded, correct?” Gongshu Mo insisted firmly, “Exactly, it’s only your trick.” Shen Rou queried, “Then what would make you believe?” Gongshu Mo stated, “Unless you produce irrefutable proof that such an item exists.” Shen Rou replied, “Fair enough—we must provide concrete evidence to back mere words.”
Saying this, she respectfully bowed to Ping’er. “Cult Leader, I have no alternative—I must retrieve the Holy Scripture.” Ping’er waved dismissively. “Approved.”
Gu Fengchen watched Ping’er pretend to be mature and nearly chuckled, secretly musing that this lass had likely rehearsed extensively; now she genuinely exuded the authority of a Cult Leader.
Shen Rou addressed Gongshu Mo. “Since Gate Master Gongshu demands evidence, I shall present it.” She then instructed those behind her. “Follow me to bring out the Holy Scripture.”
Several burly men roared in unison and followed Shen Rou into the Main Hall.
Gongshu Mo remained composed, sneering icily. “I shall see what you produce!”
After only a brief pause, Shen Rou emerged first from the Main Hall, trailed by four sturdy men jointly carrying a heavy-looking rosewood chest.
Reaching the venue, the four men carefully set the chest onto a red carpet. Shen Rou stood humbly before Ping’er to report. Ping’er unhooked a golden key from her waist and passed it to Shen Rou.
Shen Rou approached, lifted the chest lid, and a flash of golden light burst forth. Everyone saw clearly that inside lay a radiant, resplendent, and exquisitely valuable golden book.
Was this the Holy Scripture of the Red Lotus Sect? Everyone stared in astonishment.
Shen Rou lifted out the golden book, signaled the men to secure the chest, then placed the book atop it. The book was protected by a gold lock, inaccessible without a key. Shen Rou used the golden key to unlock it and opened the Holy Scripture.
Inside, every page was crafted from gold—making the book alone a priceless treasure. Shen Rou leafed through several pages, raised the book to her chest, and gestured for the heroes to examine.
Everyone viewed distinctly that etched words matched Shen Rou’s earlier claims: The bearer of the Wrist Talisman could engage in the Cult Leader selection. Below the inscription was a carved likeness of the Wrist Talisman, identical to the one Gu Fengchen possessed.
Gongshu Mo undoubtedly saw it too, and couldn’t stifle his own frown of concern.
Shen Rou shut the book, returned it to the chest for locking, handed the key back to Ping’er, then signaled Xue Wuhen to command the men in carrying the chest to the Main Hall.
Finishing these acts, Shen Rou smiled at Gongshu Mo. “What have you left to say, Gate Master Gongshu? You don’t suspect this golden book was pre-arranged, do you?”
The audience burst into laughter. All present discerned that such a book would take years to forge, demanding immense labor. The techniques—casting, polishing, and engraving—required extreme skill, beyond countless artisans’ devoted efforts to complete.
Gongshu Mo fell silent.
Gu Fengchen declared, “Since Gate Master Gongshu judges the book authentic, the talisman must be genuine too. I can now request your instruction.”
Gongshu Mo rolled his eyes and countered, “Hold on—I must speak.”
Gu Fengchen answered, “If you have words, Gate Master, share them freely.” Gongshu Mo explained, “I’ve fought two bouts already, depleting great Internal Energy, whereas you are fresh. Such a contest is highly unfair.” Gu Fengchen nodded agreeably. “Reason says true—how long must you recuperate to reenter combat?”
Gongshu Mo asserted, “Internal Energy loss is unlike any other; full recovery demands one or two days.” Gu Fengchen sneered. “So you propose waiting days? Even if I tolerate it, these gallants here will grow impatient.” Gongshu Mo agreed, “Exactly—thus I devised a method for an impartial verdict.”
Gu Fengchen chuckled inquisitively. “I wish to hear of this impartial verdict.”
Gongshu Mo detailed, “My Internal Energy is diminished—yours brims fully. The imbalance lies there. To impose fairness, let us fight without employing Internal Energy, relying solely on moves. How say you?”
This ploy was utterly treacherous. Gongshu Mo knew Gu Fengchen’s martial prowess rested on profound Internal Energy; his fist-and-foot combat lacked distinction, lacking sophistication even compared to a second-tier fighter. Gongshu Mo’s aim was to neutralize Gu Fengchen’s strongest asset, forcing him to battle with frailties. It masqueraded as fair, yet granted Gongshu Mo overwhelming advantage.
Initially, Gongshu Mo believed that presenting this idea would cause Gu Fengchen, unless lunatic or foolish, to refuse outright—a refusal letting him sidestep dueling Gu Fengchen and confront Ping’er instead. His claims of heavy Internal Energy drain were false: Engagements with Zhou Cuo were brief; against Tie Furong, he conserved strength through inaction. Though unconfident against Gu Fengchen, he felt perfectly sure against Ping’er.
At the proposal’s airing, all observed Gu Fengchen. Many heroes unfamiliar with him privately approved the condition, presuming it fair—without Internal Energy, mastery of moves alone would decide victory or defeat. Thus numerous heads nodded. Others who knew Gu Fengchen well felt he would never accept.
Gu Fengchen did not hesitate at all and nodded, saying, “These are excellent terms. Let us decide the outcome with moves. Whoever loses a single move shall withdraw from the Cult Leader selection.”
Gongshu Mo’s heart surged with joy. He dared to agree? I’m as good as victorious, he thought to himself.
Little did he know, Gu Fengchen had just recently mastered the Hundred Flowers Divine Palm and was eager to test it out.
Having settled the terms, the two men retreated several paces. They agreed to only contest moves; coming into physical contact would inevitably involve using Internal Energy. Staying apart ensured fairness.
Gongshu Mo clasped his fists at Gu Fengchen. “Pardon my offense.” With that, he raised his hand and slapped a palm strike forward. Everyone saw clearly that he used the Drifting Body Palm of the Bagua School. This palm technique was renowned for its ingenious, seemingly casual strikes that landed on the most unexpected targets.
After launching this palm, before the old move was even complete, his body suddenly twisted, stepping left. His position changed, yet the palm attack itself remained continuous. In an instant, its target shifted from Gu Fengchen’s chest to his right flank.
This shifting of positions captured the very essence of the Drifting Body Palm. The core principle of the Bagua Drifting Body Palm was embodied in the word “drifting” – the body constantly flowed and moved like water, formless and infinitely adaptable, truly masterful.
In the past, Gu Fengchen would have countered with the forceful and straightforward Shaolin Palms. While powerful, they would have been useless against this elusive technique. Had Internal Energy been permitted, he could have ignored the incoming strike and attacked outright to force his opponent to defend, thus escaping danger. But now, confined to moves only, the Shaolin Palms were ineffective.
Fortunately, Gu Fengchen knew more than just Shaolin Palms.
Seeing the peculiar angle of the attack, Gu Fengchen sneered inwardly. No matter how bizarre your moves are, can they rival my Hundred Flowers Divine Palm?
With this thought, he employed the most basic set, the Plum Blossom Palm. With a casual wave of his hand, he conjured five palm shadows, resembling the five petals of a plum blossom, meeting Gongshu Mo’s strike.
Gongshu Mo’s eyes blurred. Seeing the strange palm technique, involuntarily startled, he knew this move was already blocked and ineffective. He quickly changed stance, stepping half a pace right, his right palm pressing down while his left palm shot diagonally upward, aiming for the back of Gu Fengchen’s head.
Though the men were still a distance apart, the exchange felt like close-quarters combat. This strike towards the nape, despite the separation, made everyone watching understand its threat and they couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat.
Naturally, Gu Fengchen dared not be careless. This was his first time using the Plum Blossom Palm set, and he was unproficient. Fearful that a single misstep meant defeat, he focused entirely. Seeing the strike come, he used the move “Sparse Shadows Cast Aslant” from the Plum Blossom set. His left palm swept diagonally, targeting the bend of his opponent’s elbow, while his right palm conjured five shadows again, striking toward Gongshu Mo’s chest.
This move blended offense and defense, truly skillful.
After just a few exchanges, Gongshu Mo frowned secretly. When did this kid learn such an eccentric palm technique? I have traveled the realm and encountered nine-tenths of the world’s martial arts, though I wouldn’t claim to know them all. Yet this palm art Gu Fengchen uses… I’ve never seen it! Is it his own creation, or learned from whom? The moves seemed bizarre, yet carried an air of elegant loneliness, like a lone winter plum blooming defiantly against ice and snow.
After a few more exchanges, Gongshu Mo grew even more alarmed. Gu Fengchen’s moves seemed simple, but endlessly varied. His own techniques were gradually stalled; he felt suffocated by Gu Fengchen’s pressure. Had this been a fight with Internal Energy and physical contact, Gongshu Mo feared he would have long been knocked down and utterly defeated.
Thinking this, Gongshu Mo hurriedly switched techniques. He suddenly stood straight and motionless, like an evergreen pine. Clasping his palms together momentarily, he then violently separated them: his left palm went right, his right palm went left. Each hand moved fluidly like flowing water, constantly arcing, the arm seeming to sprout countless new joints as they struck towards Gu Fengchen.
Someone among the gathered elite exclaimed: “Multi-Armed Centipede Palm!”
This palm technique was the exclusive martial art of a mysterious faction from the deserts of the Western Regions – the Tianhu Sect. Rumor had it the sect consisted predominantly of Hu people, among whom were many masters. This palm art, invented by their founder, Beigong Hu, differed markedly from Central Plains martial arts and was exceptionally strange. Gongshu Mo’s execution of it left the crowd stunned. How is this man even proficient in foreign Hu martial arts?
As for Gu Fengchen, foreign Hu palm techniques were far beyond his experience; even mainstream Central Plains styles he hadn’t seen extensively. So his only thought was: Whatever style it is, I’ll just counter move for move.
But this Multi-Armed Centipede Palm was indeed exceptional. In its creation, it incorporated many movements from Hu dances, making the user’s entire body, limbs and all, writhe like a centipede – perpetually moving, seemingly disjointed, yet somehow always connected.
Each hand strike seemed disconnected from the one before; each footstep seemed to contradict the previous one’s intent. The crowd watched Gongshu Mo use this set; the crackling of his joints formed an eerie rhythm, so vivid it was as if they could hear the beat of Hu Qiang drums in their ears.
For a few paces, Gu Fengchen nearly found his tempo disturbed by this strange rhythm. He urgently steadied his spirit. The Plum Blossom Palm set was now failing. He frowned and changed techniques, shifting to the Pear Blossom Palm set.
Using this palm set truly animated the poem: “Suddenly, like a night of spring wind arriving, a thousand trees, ten thousand trees, pear blossoms bloom.” Though the poem praised snow, it also captured the essence of pear blossoms. As Gu Fengchen unleashed this palm set, his dancing palms resembled a blizzard of snowflakes, nowhere untouched by flying petals.
Although they fought at a distance, each move was perilous; the finest margin meant victory or defeat.
After more fighting, Gongshu Mo still gained no advantage. Every move he made was intercepted by Gu Fengchen’s unending palm shadows. He realized he was nearing the end of the Centipede Palm sequence, while Gu Fengchen’s techniques remained relentless. Gongshu Mo knew this was the most profound and cunning palm set he possessed. Switching to another would be less potent. Gu Fengchen’s skill had far exceeded his expectations. At this rate, he feared he’d lose within twenty moves.
Frowning inwardly, Gongshu Mo thought: The way things are, I can’t beat him in a fair contest of moves. I’ll have to use a hidden weapon to get rid of him.
He resolved secretly to ambush Gu Fengchen. But this was the grand Succession Ceremony, packed with discerning eyes from all factions. Carrying out an assassination attempt in broad daylight would surely be detected! Yet Gongshu Mo was confident – his title as Master of the Mechanism Gate was no empty boast.
Much earlier, Gongshu Mo had installed a minuscule mechanism on his forearm, carefully hidden beneath his sleeve, undetectable. Firing the hidden weapon required only flicking open the Mechanism Spring.
His choice of the Centipede Palm set served this purpose too; its bizarre movements and shifting stances captivated the audience’s attention, providing the perfect chaos for stealth.
Suddenly, Gongshu Mo executed the “Falling Centipede” move. His body seemed to somersault mid-air. Amid his arms recoiling towards his abdomen, he used one finger to silently lever open the tiny Mechanism Spring on his arm, unnoticed by anyone present.
Gu Fengchen had noticed nothing, much less those watching below. Gongshu Mo’s move was far too covert; besides himself, no one realized a sinister mechanism lay waiting to strike.
Within Gongshu Mo’s arm mechanism, twelve Mosquito Whisker Needles lay concealed. True to their name, they were as fine as a mosquito’s whiskers. Secretly forged by his own hand, these needles were coated in a deadly toxin. Being extremely lightweight, they would penetrate the body upon impact, slip into blood vessels, and follow the bloodstream directly to the heart or brain. A victim, once struck, was beyond saving—a truly vicious weapon.
Since crafting them, Gongshu Mo had never used these needles, biding his time for a grand occasion where they might prove decisive. And now, this was the grand occasion.
His mechanism was exquisitely concealed beneath his wrist. It required no overt movement to launch; a mere surge of Internal Energy propelled the needles from their aperture. Exceedingly thin, almost weightless, and nearly transparent, even in broad daylight and amid a crowd, they remained utterly undetectable.
At that moment, Gu Fengchen struck out with his palm. Gongshu Mo raised an elbow, parrying the blow in a feint, then swept his right palm toward Gu Fengchen’s abdomen.
The two were separated by nearly seven or eight feet without closing in, so this palm strike seemed unremarkable. The true menace came instead from the poisoned needles darting out from Gongshu Mo’s wrist.
Having exchanged dozens of blows with him, Gu Fengchen never fathomed such a treacherous Hidden Weapon. Seeing the palm strike coming, he reflexively pulled back his hand as if to deflect Gongshu Mo’s wrist.
Yet in that instant, a chill suddenly pierced Gu Fengchen’s palm—a sensation like a raindrop landing there, vanishing instantly.
His heart seized with alarm as an icy coldness surged upward from his palm, accompanied by a sharp stab of pain.
Not good! Gu Fengchen swiftly countered with his left palm while jerking back his right hand. On his palm was a tiny puncture mark, no larger than a needle’s point, from which a filament of black blood, fine as a hair, slowly seeped.
Poisoned!
Thoughts flashed through Gu Fengchen’s mind. Could someone be aiding Gongshu Mo from the shadows? Yet he dismissed it almost immediately. Since he—Gu Fengchen—was striking at Gongshu Mo, any assisting assailant firing from the direction of the needle should have been positioned behind him. But behind Gongshu Mo stood the Sacred Altar: vacant and unoccupied. The Hidden Weapon had to be Gongshu Mo’s work.
Such foul tactics.
With a roar, Gu Fengchen shouted, “How dare you stoop to poison! Shameful scum…” He prepared to expel the toxin. Gongshu Mo, knowing Gu Fengchen’s formidable Internal Energy, feared the needle might be forced out, ruining his scheme. He lunged forward, pressing forth with all his reserves in a frenzied assault, seeking to overwhelm Gu Fengchen and leave him no chance to purge the poison.
Bai Jingjing, watching from the sidelines, flushed crimson with outrage. “Big Brother,” she cried, “Let me help you…” Knowing heroes from every corner now gathered and that this was the territory of Gu Fengchen’s sweetheart, she swallowed the word husband, settling instead on ‘Big Brother.’
Gu Fengchen shifted to a new palm technique—Peach Blossom Palm—and calmly parried Gongshu Mo’s furious onslaught, his movements smooth and unhurried. “Unnecessary,” he said with serene confidence. “What is a mere poisoned needle to me? Watch your Big Brother’s skill.”
He unleashed a single-handed strike: “Spring Brings Peach Blossom Waters Abound.” The air filled with shimmering palms, mirroring a surging spring stream, petals drifting elegantly amidst the flow. Beautiful to behold, the technique remained lethally sharp, targeting exclusively the lower body vital points. Gu Fengchen kept his left palm lowered near his abdomen, every strike directed so low it bordered on unanswerable.
Gongshu Mo’s flurry of blows was fully blocked by Gu Fengchen’s right arm. Before he could recover, Gu Fengchen’s left palm was already upon him. Desperate, Gongshu Mo frantically crossed his arms down in defense. Thump, thump, thump! More than a dozen palm strikes collided in rapid succession, forcing Gongshu Mo just barely to fend off this one move.
By then, Gu Fengchen had marshaled his supreme skill, channeling the Mosquito Whisker Needle towards the surface of his palm. His body already harbored two other potent toxins—the needle’s poison proved utterly ineffective, flushed harmlessly outward by his poisoned blood. Only its physical removal now posed a challenge.
Gongshu Mo also realized his weapon’s venom showed no sign of working. His understanding of the poison was clear: upon piercing the target, it should induce immediate effect—minimal weakness, maximal vertigo. Yet before him, Gu Fengchen moved as vigorously as ever post-injury. It was baffling.
Though shocked, Gongshu Mo knew the paramount need: prevent Gu Fengchen from ejecting the needle at all costs. Driving an unrelenting offense to deprive him of focus seemed the sole recourse.
But thought was infinitely easier than practice. Mounting even a counterattack amidst the Hundred Flowers Divine Palm seemed harder than scaling the heavens to Gongshu Mo. The Peach Blossom Palm technique unfurled like spring itself: Apricot Blossom Palm, Chrysanthemum Palm, Osmanthus Blossom Palm… Each move blossomed uniquely, each pose lethal. This exquisite sequence was beyond Gongshu Mo’s reckoning; mounting an offensive was hopeless—merely blocking them became desperate labor.
As Gu Fengchen unleashed the move “Picking Chrysanthemums by the Fence,” a soft pop sounded from his right palm. A thin jet of black blood burst forth, ejecting the Mosquito Whisker Needle onto the crimson carpet.
Bystanders gasped, stupefied—not one had known Gu Fengchen was poisoned.
Bai Jingjing could hold back no longer. Seizing the moment, she shouted, “Gongshu Mo, you coward—ambushed him like a snake! Utterly shameless…” Gongshu Mo instantly retorted, “Nonsense, you wretched girl! What hidden weapon? He conjures tricks to win sympathy!”
Furious at the bald-faced lie, Bai Jingjing yelled, “Big Brother! Show no mercy now!”
Anger already surged within Gu Fengchen, and hearing her words, he gleaned both her meaning—use underhanded means—and its necessity. Initially, he had resisted: he would fight honorably. But Gongshu Mo was vile; dealing with wickedness sometimes defied virtue itself.
Deliberately, Gu Fengchen slackened his attacks to allow Gongshu Mo a breath. Unaware it was staged mercy, Gongshu Mo rejoiced inwardly at the easing pressure, believing the venom was finally at work. He sneered mentally: For all your skill forcing out the needle, traces linger inside you still…
Just as he prepared to redouble his assault, Gu Fengchen suddenly roared, “Hear this, Gongshu Mo! Was infiltrating the Red Lotus Sect meant solely for today’s battle for Cult Leader?”
Panic flashed in Gongshu Mo’s eyes. A trap to draw out my secrets! He sealed his lips in silence. Gu Fengchen smirked. “No denial? The admission holds. Tell me: who sent you?” Defiantly, Gongshu Mo sneered: “What arrant—”
He meant to scoff, “—arrant nonsense!” thus refuting all allegations. Yet before finishing the phrase, Gu Fengchen pulsed his palm with sudden, terrifying force. Gale and thunder whispered within his sleeves, enveloping Gongshu Mo completely… and gagging his voice, as if stuffing his unspoken words down his throat.
Instantly, Gongshu Mo choked, gasping for air.
Gu Fengchen laughed heartily and said, “I know some faction sent you to do this, but which one exactly?” He immediately withdrew his internal energy, causing the immense pressure on Gongshu Mo’s entire body to vanish suddenly. He gasped for breath, still wanting to argue, “You—” He had intended to say, “You’re slandering me with vicious lies!” but before he could utter those words, Gu Fengchen summoned his internal energy again and launched a vicious attack, smothering Gongshu Mo’s retort for the second time.
Gongshu Mo’s fury surged violently like fire, yet under the crushing pressure of Gu Fengchen’s profound internal energy, he could do nothing. His internal energy was inferior to Gu Fengchen’s. Combined with his guilt over failing to assassinate Gu Fengchen sneakily, he was completely suppressed, both in strength and morale.
Gu Fengchen then added, “My question is too dangerous, isn’t it! Since you can’t say it openly, tell me quietly, for my ears alone.”
As he spoke, he accelerated his internal energy, unleashing the Hundred Flowers Divine Palm. Gongshu Mo was forced into a desperate scramble just to evade. He had no energy left to argue; he didn’t even dare pass gas, fearing that doing so might loosen his breath control and leave him vulnerable to a fatal barrage of palm strikes. Unable to speak, Gongshu Mo could only watch as Gu Fengchen carried his act to the extreme. Gu Fengchen feigned intense concentration while listening, nodding as he went. “Mm…” he murmured. “Really? Unbelievable… such a thing! Did they threaten you? Or buy you off? Ah… both?… Alright, I understand. You’re burdened by what you cannot say. I get it, I get it…”
Hearing this soliloquy, Gongshu Mo nearly choked with rage. But he couldn’t shift his hands to fight back, nor could he speak. Finally, having no alternatives, he hurled his body backward explosively, hoping to break out of the range of Gu Fengchen’s palms. Unfortunately, the moment he leapt into the air, Gu Fengchen appeared directly behind him, sealing his escape route completely. Trapped, Gongshu Mo had no choice but to engage. Thus, he remained entirely within Gu Fengchen’s grasp: unable to win this confrontation, and unable to flee from it either.
Gongshu Mo was near the brink of madness.
Gu Fengchen mumbled a few more words to himself before declaring loudly, “Rest assured. I will personally shoulder this responsibility and see that the truth is revealed to the world!” After finishing, he pressed his fierce assault, though his palm rhythm gradually slowed as he switched to the Orchid Palm Style.
This Orchid Palm Style surpassed the previous palm techniques, rivaled only by the strongest Lotus Palm Style. True to its name, every strike emerged with matchless grace—utterly refined, calm, and devoid of the slightest agitation. Its demands on internal energy, however, were exceptionally steep. Only due to his mastery of the Heaven-Defying Divine Art could Gu Fengchen wield it with such ease. An ordinary person would find it impossible to balance both; striving for elegance in form might scatter their internal energy, lessening its power, while striving to consolidate energy for greater force inevitably resulted in rigid, clumsy movements—turning their art from the Orchid Palm into something that could only be called the Withered Flowers Palm.
Shifting to this palm style brought silent dismay solely to Gongshu Mo. Everyone else saw the slowdown and assumed Gongshu Mo had finally confessed his collusion. Privately, the crowd speculated: Who possessed the cunning to infiltrate the Red Lotus Sect with spies so effectively?
On the central stage, Gu Fengchen intensified his palm strikes while keeping up his verbal barrage. Raising his voice, he announced, “Just now, Gate Master Gongshu already told me! His bid to seize the Cult Leadership indeed stems from unspeakable distress! Someone is holding his family hostage, threatening him!” He paused dramatically, sweeping his gaze across the crowd and noting every hero hanging on his words. Then, he pointed abruptly with a single hand: “And this towering villain manipulating everything from the shadows is none other than… the Four Great Clans!”
As soon as the words left his lips, Wan Chongshan and Du Qianlong leaped to their feet almost simultaneously, roaring furiously: “Nonsense!”
Instantly, an uproar erupted across the gathering. Everyone had seen how Long Xielan’s earlier words genuinely sought reconciliation and peace with the Red Lotus Sect. Yet now, according to Gu Fengchen’s implication, the Four Great Clans were secretly orchestrating a plot to overthrow the sect!
Du Qianlong raged, “We of the Four Great Clans have never even met this man, let alone threatened his family! As for commanding him to seize power? Utter nonsense!”
Gu Fengchen smiled. “Is it nonsense? That’s easily settled.” He turned his head toward Gongshu Mo. “Gate Master Gongshu,” he asked loudly, “Surely your earlier confession isn’t merely slander fabricated out of thin air to frame the Four Great Clans and sow discord against the Red Lotus Sect?”
As he posed this question, Gu Fengchen channeled even more strength into his arms. His Orchid Palm Style seemed to grow more languid, yet the internal energy surging from him was stronger than ever. Unaware onlookers might have assumed he was winding down. In reality, Gu Fengchen’s internal energy pressed down upon Gongshu Mo in ceaseless, tidal waves. If Gongshu Mo so much as opened his mouth to speak, releasing even a shred of his energy barrier, his defenses would collapse instantly, causing his organs to shatter and die.
Trapped inside this energy maelstrom, Gongshu Mo understood his peril perfectly. Dared he open his mouth? Nor could he spare the concentration to nod or shake his head. Moreover, Gu Fengchen’s question was treacherously clever: Whether Gongshu Mo nodded (“Yes, it’s not fabricated!”) or shook his head (“No, it is fabricated!”) could be twisted by Gu Fengchen to imply “yes, he is colluding!” Observing this, Bai Jingjing nodded repeatedly. Exchanging a meaningful look with Hua Yuehen, she lowered her voice to whisper: “Whoever dared call my husband a simple, honest man? When he schemes… honestly, he may well match that Long Xielan.”
This tactic of crushing Gongshu Mo with internal energy to silence him and seize the initiative had originally been Bai Jingjing’s wicked idea. She had suggested it to Gu Fengchen, who initially hesitated, deeming it too vicious and unjust to the victim. Now, seeing him execute it and even escalate the strategy so masterfully came as a delightful surprise to his wife.
The crowd saw Gongshu Mo sullen-faced, silent, failing to refute Gu Fengchen, and their belief surged to over fifty percent. Even if he had denied it, few would have doubted the villainy of the Four Great Clans. The enmity ran too deep. Long Xielan’s sudden talk of an alliance felt jarringly abrupt, striking most as implausible—likely just a Four Great Clans stalling tactic. Gu Fengchen’s linking of Gongshu Mo’s coup attempt with the Four Great Clans simply fueled the crowd’s existing suspicions.
Gu Fengchen chuckled inwardly, though outwardly maintained icy composure. “I know you dare not speak clearly,” he stated coldly. “Afraid of the Four Great Clans’ retaliation! Very well, I won’t force you. Merely admit defeat, and I’ll let you leave the mountain.”
He spoke these words lightly, yet internally, Gu Fengchen held onto an ironclad resolve: He must never relax even a fraction. Should Gongshu Mo escape his suppression, that earlier performance would be torn apart instantly, and he would be the one branded a scheming traitor.
And so, while his mouth spoke assurances, his hands never ceased. He intensified the Orchid Palm Style to its zenith, pressing Gongshu Mo strike by strike. But this Orchid Palm Style held a profound and deceptive principle: a strategy of retreating to advance. Gu Fengchen seemed to step back again and again, yet his internal energy acted like a powerful magnet, inexorably pulling his foe towards him—a piece of helpless iron drawn closer and closer. He stepped back; Gongshu Mo, trapped by the energy, was compelled to step forward. To the watching crowd, it looked entirely as if Gongshu Mo was pressing the fierce advance, giving Gu Fengchen no respite at all.
Mutterings began rippling through the audience: “What’s that fellow Gongshu doing? His plot’s exposed! Still aiming for the Cult Leadership?” someone whispered.
“Because it’s exposed, that’s precisely why he must seize the title now!” another reasoned.
“Why so?”
“Think! If he fails… will the Four Great Clans spare him? Only as Cult Leader, wielding the full power of the Red Lotus Sect, could he hope to stand against them! If not… the Four Great Clans will never release their grip!”
“I see! Brother, you’re spot on…”
Amidst such whispered debates, Gongshu Mo felt the blood rushing to his head. Gu Fengchen, relying on his superior energy, suppressed him mercilessly, forcing his silence while putting on this elaborate charade before everyone! Any man would boil with fury. But he was helpless—his internal energy insufficient, and Gu Fengchen’s palm technique executed with such consummate skill that it deceived every witness. Each step forward Gongshu Mo took tightened the grip on his body—more pressure, closer proximity to inevitable doom.
A few more moments like this, he knew, and he would be nose-to-nose with Gu Fengchen. For Gongshu Mo understood: That closest point would be the instant Gu Fengchen’s palm struck his vital spot, ending his life. He had to counterattack.
One method remained: his Hidden Weapon. Though the previous poisoned needle had failed—and its venom seemed utterly ineffective, likely having missed a fatal spot—Gongshu Mo retained conviction. If his next shot landed true… victory could still be snatched from the jaws of defeat.
Lost in these thoughts, he suddenly realized he stood fewer than three feet from Gu Fengchen. One foot closer, and that devastating palm would be within striking range. Then it truly would all be over.
Gongshu Mo gritted his teeth and forcefully pushed both palms out to meet Gu Fengchen’s palm force. At the same time, he exerted all his strength, channeling his internal energy to activate the mechanism beneath his wrist in utter silence, shooting out eight mosquito-whisker needles together.
The mechanism installed beneath his wrist was exquisitely clever. Since any cunning device would never be too large, this one was small as a pigeon egg. Even with such tiny hidden weapons as mosquito-whisker needles, it could only fit nine at most. Minus one fired earlier, Gongshu Mo risked everything this time, shooting out all the hidden weapons.
Gongshu Mo knew deep down that his life depended on this move.
After being hit by a needle once before, Gu Fengchen had added twelvefold caution. He seemed to speculate that the opponent’s poisoned needles were launched from under the sleeve. Therefore, every time Gongshu Mo struck with a palm, Gu Fengchen watched carefully. Now as Gongshu Mo fired needles again, Gu Fengchen only sensed a faint dark glint beneath his wrist. Although mosquito-whisker needles were extremely thin, eight flying out together still left some trace.
It was this barely perceptible micro-trace that made Gu Fengchen alert. The mosquito-whisker needles came extremely fast, coupled with the suction force from Gu Fengchen’s recoiling palm energy. Thus, the moment the dark gleam appeared, the hidden weapon struck Gu Fengchen’s chest.
Fortunately, Gu Fengchen reacted swiftly. With one hand, he grabbed at his own chest, and at the critical moment, clenched all eight poisoned needles in his palm. Several needles pierced his palm, yet the poison effect on Gu Fengchen was like a spring breeze brushing the body—no hindrance at all.
With the hidden weapon in hand, Gu Fengchen didn’t know how many others the opponent possessed. So, his eyes rolled, and a plan came to mind. He feigned a muffled grunt, swayed his body, and staggered as if about to fall.
Seeing this, Gongshu Mo was overjoyed inside, believing he had succeeded. At that moment, Gu Fengchen relaxed part of his internal energy to trick him. Gongshu Mo, nearly in despair, encountered this lifeline and felt supreme joy. His head fogged by emotion, he cast caution to the wind.
He chose a fierce assault.
The two were already close. Gongshu Mo took just one step to stand before Gu Fengchen and raised a palm to strike between Gu Fengchen’s eyebrows.
He was ready to take the other’s life, so this palm directly hit a vital spot without mercy.
Gu Fengchen covered his chest, showing an expression of agony, while his eyes scanned the attack. Seeing Gongshu Mo’s palm strike, he didn’t counter immediately. Instead, he waited until the strike was fully committed and impossible to change course, then finally met it with his own palm.
Gongshu Mo assumed the opponent had taken eight poisoned needles and must have depleted internal energy, so he attacked boldly. Once he saw Gu Fengchen meeting the strike, he didn’t retreat, only adding a fraction of internal energy to heavily wound Gu Fengchen with this palm.
But as their palms connected, Gongshu Mo abruptly felt a sharp pain in his palm, as if sharp objects pierced through. A chill hit his heart, and he sensed misfortune. Upon pulling his hand back to examine it, there were eight bloody holes in his palm leaking black blood. The flow was very fine, precisely wounds caused by his own mosquito-whisker needles.
At this, Gongshu Mo was greatly astonished. He looked up at Gu Fengchen again, but Gu Fengchen now wore a faint smile, with not a trace of pain.
Before Gongshu Mo could expel the poison with internal energy, Gu Fengchen channeled his divine strength and unleashed three palm strikes consecutively. Unable to dodge, Gongshu Mo had no choice but to meet them head-on. He lacked Gu Fengchen’s toxic blood inside. Though carrying the antidote, he needed time to take it. Gu Fengchen didn’t give him the chance to consume the medicine, so Gongshu Mo suffered heavily.
By the third palm strike from Gu Fengchen, Gongshu Mo’s internal energy had dispersed. Hit by this palm, he was flung out and fell heavily to the ground. He spat several mouthfuls of blood and could no longer struggle to stand up.
Seeing him defeated, Gu Fengchen didn’t press the kill but withdrew and stopped fighting. Gongshu Mo now strained to fetch the antidote, poured it into his mouth, swallowed it with his blood, collapsed to the side, and gasped for breath heavily, unable to utter another word.
Their victory and defeat had been settled. The watching heroes showed little surprise. It seemed everyone guessed that since Gu Fengchen dared reveal the token, he must have prepared thoroughly. His martial arts were so outstanding, completely overpowering Gongshu Mo, that his win was hardly strange.
Over there, Du Qianlong’s lingering rage remained. Upon seeing Gu Fengchen triumph, he roared angrily at him, “Kid Gu, what you said earlier slandered my Four Great Clans utterly! As long as Du draws breath, I will never let you rest!”
Gu Fengchen showed no weakness and retorted, “True. Now that Mr. Gongshu has lost and poses no more value to you, your turning face is understandable. But Mr. Du, don’t rush just yet. Wait a moment longer, let me finish my business, and then we’ll settle accounts. How about that?”
Du Qianlong sneered coldly, “Heaven’s will is like a blade; how could you possibly escape!”
With that, he resentfully sat down and glanced at Long Xielan. At this time, that female mastermind still wore a calm expression with no reaction, as if thoroughly confident. Du Qianlong suppressed his temper and observed the situation on stage quietly.
Now on stage, those who could become Cult Leader were reduced to Gu Fengchen and Ping’er.
Seeing Gongshu Mo fall, quite seriously injured, Shen Rou inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Smiling at Gu Fengchen, she said, “Mr. Gu, what superb skill! Besides that, your words seem sharper now too.”
Gu Fengchen smiled faintly and replied, “When traveling with superior people, one must learn something. This is called ‘associating with the pure makes one refined.'” Shen Rou said, “Well said. Now you have the chance to challenge our Cult Leader.”
With that, she stepped back several paces and stood shoulder to shoulder with Xue Wuhen, coldly observing.
Facing Ping’er, Gu Fengchen felt a bit awkward. During his last visit, Ping’er had cursed him for being a faithless man, and at the time, he had no words to defend himself. Now confronting her, he still couldn’t lift his head easily.
He turned his head and glanced at Bai Jingjing. He saw that both Bai Jingjing and Hua Yuehen gave him thumbs-ups to indicate their approval. Behind them, the others also showed joyous expressions as if Gu Fengchen had already won this contest for mastery.
Gu Fengchen also felt quite confident. If it were Ling Ling opposite him, he wouldn’t dare fight at all, and even if he did, he couldn’t win. For one, he felt guilty, owing her too much. For another, Ling Ling’s spear technique was truly elusive and unpredictable. But now, facing Ping’er, whose martial arts paled compared to Ling Ling’s.
In any case, he couldn’t return empty-handed. Luckily, the traitor had been eliminated, making it a contribution to the Red Lotus Sect. He just felt somewhat uneasy, not knowing when Ling Ling might appear.
But now, it seemed that as long as he defeated Ping’er, the Cult Leader position would be his. Even if Ling Ling showed up, nothing would change. She was no longer among the candidates. What puzzled Gu Fengchen was: Since Ling Ling wasn’t poisoned, why did she abandon the Cult Leader position? Could there be some hidden struggle in this?
Without overthinking, he approached Ping’er, clasped his hands toward her, and said, “I am Gu Fengchen, City Lord of Broken Heart City. I seek your guidance, miss.”
Ping’er’s eyes held no discernible expression, unusually calm. She replied softly, “Master Gu, for returning the token to us, our Sect is fortunate and you have rendered a great service. Therefore, stand on no ceremony. Simply come at me. Should you defeat me, Master Gu, you shall be the Cult Leader of the Red Lotus Sect.”
Gu Fengchen lowered his voice to a near whisper, asking, “How is… how is Miss Ling Ling?… I… I have thought of her constantly.”
After saying this, he stared fixedly at the ground, not daring to look at Ping’er’s face. He heard Ping’er say, equally softly, “Her well-being bears no relation to you whatsoever. There is no need to inquire.” Gu Fengchen sighed deeply within, thinking to himself, it seems there is no way she would forgive me now.
Seeing conflict was now unavoidable, Ping’er flung off her outer cloak, removed the lotus blossom headpiece, and handed them to Shen Rou. Beneath, she wore cyan lightweight fighting attire. Standing upon the red carpet, she cut a valiant and decidedly uncommon heroism, apart from the common sort.
Gu Fengchen steadied himself and asked, “Will the miss confront me barehanded as well?”
Ping’er said impassively, “In comparing Internal Energy, a young woman like myself would certainly admit defeat. I therefore beg your indulgence to allow me the use of a weapon. Naturally, Master Gu, you too may employ a weapon against me.”
Gu Fengchen replied, “I am better off without a weapon, miss. Please proceed.”
Ping’er nodded, gesturing to Shen Rou. Shen Rou instructed her followers to present a brocade box about three feet long. Upon opening its lid, three segments of a spear shaft lay within.
The Lover’s Spear!
Seeing it, Gu Fengchen couldn’t help but freeze, a thought flashing through his mind: Could Ping’er, a mere maidservant, possibly wield this spear?! He recalled Ling Ling speaking of this: the Lover’s Spear was passed only to the Cult Leader. Ling Ling could wield it naturally because she was the successor designated by Ling Yufeng. Yet Ping’er held a lowly position within the Red Lotus Sect; how could she possibly use this spear?
This thought prompted him to blurt out, “Do you intend to use this spear against me, miss?” Ping’er replied slowly, “That is only natural. As the cult leader elected by this Sect, I naturally must use this spear to face Master Gu. Everyone knows this spear is the exclusive weapon of the Cult Leader of our sect.”
So saying, she stepped forward, assembled the three spear segments into one long spear, gave it a casual twirl—which surprisingly produced several spear blossom shapes—adopted a stance, and said evenly, “I await your move.”
A sense of bewilderment in his heart, Gu Fengchen slowly assumed his own starting posture. “Have a care, miss…” he uttered as his foot slid forward, closing the distance until he was beside Ping’er, his right hand striking out with the move “Man at Leisure, Cassia Falls,” aimed toward Ping’er’s left shoulder.
This maneuver belonged to the Cassia Blossom Palm Art, its essence embodied in the character for “Leisure.” Executed with a demeanor of utter relaxation, as if merely brushing something aside by chance, its danger lay precisely in that uncertainty. Even the striker himself did not know where he meant to hit, leaving his opponent utterly bewildered.
While Gu Gu’s palm seemed aimed at Ping’er’s left shoulder, it actually corresponded to the word “Fall” concealed within the move’s name. Mid-strike, it already covered the entire left side of Ping’er’s body. Whether her left ribs, left waist, or her left leg, all lay within the potential strike area of his palm. Now, he simply needed to watch Ping’er’s movement before deciding precisely where to strike.
The profound mastery inherent in the Hundred Flowers Divine Palm even surpassed that of the Lover’s Spear. Remarkable as that spear technique might be, the length of the spear shaft inevitably left gaps during transitions between moves. Palm techniques, however, were different. Arms connected to the body meant changes happened almost instantaneously, far faster than transitions in spearplay.
Not only Ping’er, but not even the most knowledgeable and formidable masters alive today had ever witnessed this palm art. Indeed, this art had not manifested within the Jianghu for nearly a century. Now wielded by Gu Fengchen, the onlookers beheld something extraordinary. Experts like Gui Qulai among the cult also perceived that this palm art bore distinct, albeit faint, similarities to the Lover’s Spear technique, as if they shared a common lineage. Yet even they could not conceive they both emanated from the White Lotus Sect.
However, observing the expressions of these Red Lotus Sect masters, they did not seem particularly weighed down by this knowledge, as if extremely confident in Ping’er’s martial prowess.
As the saying goes — but events moved with blinding speed. Gu Fengchen’s palm barely started its motion before it was about to touch Ping’er’s shoulder. He held back seventy percent of his force, keeping it in reserve. Firstly, the essence of the palm art demanded it; secondly, he had no desire to harm Ping’er. Hurting Ling Ling had already injured his heart deeply. Wounding her maid as well would only add further injury to that pain. Thus, the palm strike became even more elusive and gentle, truly resembling a drifting cassia blossom.
Yet at that very moment, Ping’er abruptly snapped her wrists—her left hand, forward, lifted while her right hand, behind, pressed down—the entire spear coiling like an overturned monstrous serpent! It described a bizarre arc, lunging at an inconceivable angle toward Gu Fengchen’s lower abdomen.
This single spear thrust shocked Gu Fengchen profoundly. He suddenly realized Ping’er was not unfamiliar with the Lover’s Spear. Far from it; it seemed she knew the spear more intimately than Ling Ling ever had. The Lover’s Spear in Ping’er’s hands moved as easily as a wrist commands a hand, as naturally as a finger wields a brush—completely unhindered.
Shocked, Gu Fengchen saw the spear tip arrive. He had no time for further thought; his feet slid backwards as though gliding on ice blades, putting three feet of space between them. This development shocked not only Gu Fengchen, but the members of the Four Great Clans even more profoundly. Before ascending the mountain, they had investigated the Red Lotus Sect inside out. They knew the martial prowess of each member clearly. Who could have guessed that a maidservant would appear out of thin air, wielding such consummate spearmanship? How could they not be stunned?
Ping’er had forced back Gu Fengchen, a top-tier master of the era, with a single move. Yet her face showed no hint of triumph. She did not pursue him. Simply bringing the Lover’s Spear back close to her body, cradling it in her arms. Viewed from afar, she truly appeared like a jade hibiscus rising from the waters—that sublime purity, that flawless isolation.
Dozens amongst the assembled heroes stood up, a collective cry escaping their lips. Among them were some who had encountered or witnessed Ling Ling’s skills at the Five Precepts Manor. They also knew that the Lover’s Spear was exclusive to the Cult Leader. Seeing Ping’er wield it with such proficiency now left them all utterly astounded.
When Long Xielan and the others saw this, they all furrowed their brows, exchanging glances that held visible surprise and apprehension. The others might be troubled, but Long Xielan was meticulous in her thoughts. A wave of inauspicious foreboding rose faintly within her heart. She felt today would spiral beyond control, for the unfolding events had far surpassed her expectations and predictions.
Setting aside the varied thoughts within the minds of the assembled heroes, let us focus solely on Gu Fengchen. He was the most internally shaken. He felt the instant Ping’er gripped the spear, she underwent a transformation, becoming precisely like Ling Ling, radiating the same formidable gravitas. Yet he could not afford to concede defeat. Taking a deep breath, he flickered both palms and unleashed the most potent form within the Hundred Flowers Divine Palm—the Lotus Palm Art—launching his attack.