Chapter 5: Among the Beauties, Yin and Yang Locked in Struggle

Chapter 5: Among the Beauties, Yin and Yang Locked in Struggle

A man leaped forward from his seat, yanked the banner up, and sneered, “Red Lotus Sect, flaunting might here…” With both hands, he exerted force. With a sharp crack, the banner pole snapped.

Zhuge Xianyun suddenly shouted, “Hold on a moment…” But he was too late. The pole broke instantly. A flash of fire lit up, followed by a deafening explosion. How could the man have expected a fire thunderbolt to be hidden within the pole? Unable to dodge in time, his chest and abdomen were blasted open by the explosion. Without a sound, he died on the spot.

The hall erupted into chaos. People cursed vehemently at the malicious cunning of the Red Lotus Sect.

Zhuge and the others exchanged glances, feeling thoroughly deflated. Nangong Yue asked, “Esteemed elders, did any of you recognize the man inside the carriage earlier?” Zhuge Xianyun shook his head. “Never seen him before.” Wan Chongshan added, “It seems the Shaolin Sect is acquainted with him. But judging by his age, even if he is Shaolin, he couldn’t be more than a second or third-generation disciple. How could Xue Wuhen have captured him? Why did Xue Wuhen capture him?”

Long Xielan suddenly spoke. “Regardless of why, I dare say that man won’t live much longer. The enmity between the Shaolin Sect and the Red Lotus Sect is settled for sure.”

The incident happened so suddenly. Exactly how Gu Fengchen ended up captured by Xue Wuhen was a question only he himself knew the answer to.

That night, hauled down the cliff by the white-robed elder, he plunged into a river below. His acupoints were sealed; he should have drowned. Unexpectedly, the icy river water triggered a fierce battle between the two potent toxins inside his body. Raging surges of genuine Qi surged wildly, forcefully breaking through all his sealed acupoints. Though free once more, the torment from the two powerful poisons had left Gu Fengchen utterly drained. Without a shred of strength, he drifted along with the current, carried ever downstream.

He drifted like this all through the night. Awakening at dawn, a rattling, rumbling noise filled his ears. As he opened his eyes, he found himself inside a carriage. His acupoints were sealed again. He could neither cry out nor move.

The journey continued. All he heard was the creak of the carriage and the neighing of horses. The driver never came in to speak. As Gu Fengchen puzzled over this internally, voices suddenly reached his ears. Then, the carriage seemed to enter a large estate compound. It was exactly when Xue Wuhen arrived at Jianxian Manor (Hall of Meeting the Virtuous).

After hearing the ensuing exchange between the two sides, Gu Fengchen realized this was indeed Zhuge Xianyun’s manor. He was still confused when a fragrant breeze, as if from a woman, wafted near the carriage. Gu Fengchen ignored it. To his shock, three pitch-black needles suddenly pierced through the curtain, embedding themselves squarely in his chest.

The steel needles were extremely thin and light, not inherently lethal. What was truly deadly was the potent poison smeared upon them.

After being struck, Gu Fengchen felt no pain. An instant later, he felt the supporting boards beneath him give way. The entire carriage collapsed. Then, light flooded in as the whole carriage compartment exploded into splinters. A monk, wrapped like a crimson cloud, descended like a divine dragon. Gu Fangchen had just made out the identity – Guangdu of the Shaolin Sect – when his body was seized and hurled through the air as if flying on clouds and mist.

Gu Fengchen, now cradled in Xue Wuhen’s arms, felt his entire body scorched by fire, the pain unbearable. A low groan escaped his throat, and he lost consciousness. As soon as the three poisoned needles pierced Gu Fengchen, the two existing poisons inside him immediately joined forces to combat and expel this new toxin. However, this new poison was extraordinarily vicious. The three toxins engaged in relentless combat within his body.

Ultimately, the Twin Immortals’ poison (one Yin, one Yang) proved mightier. Within less than an hour, it had completely expelled the poison from the three needles. Gu Fengchen slowly regained consciousness. Upon opening his eyes, he found himself sitting on a soft bed. Opposite him sat a man cross-legged, eyes tightly shut. A pair of white eyebrows stood out starkly upon his face.

The man extended his two index fingers, their tips connected to Gu Fengchen’s own index fingers. Blood stains were visible where their fingers met.

Gu Fengchen tried to move but found his acupoints still sealed. They had been forced open by the poison earlier; now, undoubtedly, this person had re-sealed them. He glanced around the room with the corner of his eye. It was unmistakably a woman’s boudoir.

The pristine white walls were adorned with embroidery and knitting. On a central long table rested a jade Qin. Potted, unknown flowers bloomed on the windowsill beside it. The grand Dragon-and-Phoenix bed he sat upon seemed scented with incense, filling the room with a subtle, pervasive fragrance that was utterly delightful.

But the scene before him was far from delightful.

Xue Wuhen was using his uniquely powerful skill to transfer and cleanse the poison from Gu Fengchen’s blood. The method involved piercing both hands of the poisoned individual, as well as his own two index fingers, and connecting them directly. He would then channel his internal energy, directing the poisoned blood from one of Gu Fengchen’s hands into his own body. He would use his skill to force out the toxins and then guide the cleansed blood back into Gu Fengchen’s body through the other connected hand. This treatment was extremely perilous, risking Xue Wuhen himself succumbing to the poison without remedy.

Xue Wuhen, a seasoned hand in the Jianghu (Martial World), judged the poison’s potency by its effect and believed he could handle it. So, he barged into a brothel in Datong, subdued the two patrons who had been carousing inside, stuffed them under the bed, and proceeded to treat Gu Fengchen.

Had Gu Fengchen been suffering only from this single poison, it might have been cleansed in under half an hour. Xue Wuhen could never have foreseen that Gu Fengchen harbored two of the deadliest poisons in the world within him. As Xue Wuhen channeled his skill to neutralize the toxin, all seemed normal at first. But before the time it takes to drink a cup of tea had passed, as more of Gu Fengchen’s poisoned blood flowed into him, Xue Wuhen felt the world spin violently. Fiery coals and bone-chilling ice seemed packed into his head. One side of his body burned fiercely, the other side pierced by icy cold.

Xue Wuhen was shocked; he knew something had gone terribly wrong. Renowned for his lightness skill, his internal strength wasn’t exceptionally powerful. Continuing like this, he could lose all his cultivation at best, or become paralyzed at worst. Frantically, he tried to retract his energy and stop. But the two types of poison, fueled by his own internal energy, rampaged uncontrollably within him. Xue Wuhen cursed inwardly; the four linked fingers felt welded together; he couldn’t pull them apart. With no alternative, he could only summon all his remaining strength to shield his heart meridian, leaving no energy left to resist the invading toxins. Only Xue Wuhen could have managed even this; someone with slightly weaker cultivation would have lost all their strength immediately, like Gu Fengchen.

As time stretched on, Xue Wuhen felt his energy waning. More and more poisoned blood accumulated inside him. Sooner or later, it would breach his heart meridian. Even this man, accustomed to brushes with death, felt cold sweat break out on his forehead.

Just at that moment, there was a commotion outside the door. A woman’s voice cried out, “Oh dear… don’t be rough! Fanghua is… she’s still with a client…” Then came a man’s angry shout, “I don’t care, damn it! Keeping our boss waiting this long? If you don’t call her out right now, I’ll tear your bones apart!”

Gu Fengchen’s mind jolted. He thought: That voice… it seemed familiar.

Before he could place it, the sound of heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs rang out. Then, with a loud bang, the door was kicked open. Five or six men barged in.

Gu Fengchen and Xue Wuhen’s heads were shielded by the bed curtains, hiding their faces from the intruders. Likewise, the intruders couldn’t see their faces either, only their clothes.

The intruders gasped in unison, “Aiya!” With flashes of cold steel, they all drew their sabers.

Five men. Six blades.

The sight of those sabers instantly brought the scene from several nights before crashing back into Gu Fengchen’s memory. It was the Five Wei Tigers.

Ever since the night Gu Fengchen plunged to the cliff base, the Five Wei Tigers had seen it too. They detoured to the bottom of the cliff and searched along the river, but found no trace of him, eventually succumbing to despair. Returning empty-handed not only bruised their pride but cost their sixth brother, Wei Renjie, half his teeth. They grew more furious the more they thought about it. Taking the main road, they proceeded to Datong, partly to tend to Wei Renjie’s injuries and partly to vent their frustration. When they entered the brothel, their boss demanded the most sought-after courtesan. Waiting nearly an hour only to see no sign of her, their tempers flared. He shoved the madam aside and stormed straight in.

As soon as the group entered, their eyes immediately fell on the clothes worn by Gu Fengchen. To them, it was like seeing a ghost—the impression it left was far too deep.

Wei Renlong, having suffered a loss once before, knew this man was incredibly difficult to deal with. Seeing him seated opposite another man, hands extended toward each other, he had no idea what trick they were playing and didn’t recklessly rush forward. He gave a meaningful look to his four brothers behind him. The five moved into a formation and slowly closed in.

Inside Xue Wuhen’s body, a great turmoil surged, but his mind remained remarkably clear. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted their drawn blades, realizing they were enemies, not friends. This minor distraction was enough for the two potent toxins to viciously assault his vital meridians. Xue Wuhen cursed inwardly, forced to focus his entire concentration inward, leaving no spare moment to monitor his surroundings. Having roamed the Jianghu for twenty years, he had weathered countless storms. His face remained impassive now, utterly indifferent to the men encircling him.

Wei Renlong himself was a veteran of the Jianghu. Though he couldn’t see the expressions of the two men, the situation instantly made sense. He let out a loud laugh. “Brothers! A lucky strike today! These two are healing wounds! Second Brother, come forward! At my signal, strike together, chop off their arms first!”

Wei Renda responded promptly, stepped forward with blade ready. The two brothers simultaneously raised their knives, intending to sever the arms of Xue Wuhen and Gu Fengchen.

Xue Wuhen gritted his teeth inwardly, preparing to risk the leap. Suddenly, Gu Fengchen opposite him cried out, “Hold!” Wei Renlong and the others started at the sound. Wei Renda used his knife to lift the curtain aside to look and called out, “Big Brother, this guy isn’t the man we want…” Wei Renlong stated, “Even if he’s not the main target, he’s surely connected. Cripple him first, then question him.”

Cold light flashed as two steel knives swung down simultaneously.

Gu Fengchen strained with all his might and actually managed to wrench his hand free from Xue Wuhen’s fingers. He threw both hands up, catching the two attackers’ wrists. Wei Renlong’s blade, unable to descend, immediately snapped out a kick that struck Gu Fengchen squarely in the chest. Gu Fengchen was flung against the wall behind him, a torrent of blood spurting from his mouth.

Wei Renlong and the other man leapt back, dodging the blood spray. The kick that forced blood from Gu Fengchen’s mouth surprisingly eased some tightness in his chest. During Xue Wuhen’s earlier attempt to transfuse and heal the poison, the toxin’s energy, stirred by the internal force, had actually forced open his acupoints—he just hadn’t noticed it. Only in the midst of this crisis did the effect show itself.

As Gu Fengchen’s fingers broke contact, Xue Wuhen immediately felt the toxic blood reverse direction. It dripped from the puncture wound on his fingertip. With each dripping drop, the toxicity weakened slightly. Though he couldn’t recover immediately, the potent poison lost its influx—no new poisoned blood was entering—expelling it was now only a matter of time.

But the immediate situation was critically urgent!

Gu Fengchen jumped down from the bed. His steps faltered, and he almost collapsed. Ever since being struck by the potent poison, he had completely lost his Internal Energy. A punch from him now would feel as weak as a child’s.

Besides, the enemies before him were anything but ordinary.

Even if Gu Fengchen hadn’t been poisoned, he could never withstand all five of them together. Fortunately, the room was narrow, and the space by the bed was especially cramped, preventing the Wei Brothers from storming forward en masse.

Wei Renlong brandished his gold-washed blade, chopping straight down with immense force. Mid-way through the stroke, his wrist trembled—one slash transformed into seven! This was the exquisite move “Seven Stars Fall from the Vault of Heaven” from the Seven Stars Saber Art. Its deadliness lay in this: wherever the opponent dodged, follow-up attacks would trail inexorably.

Though Gu Fengchen’s martial skills were good, he had roamed the Jianghu little and was therefore inexperienced. Unfamiliar with this saber art, how could he know how to counter? He could only grab a bedside chair and raise it overhead to block. Crack-crack-crack! The chair splintered into four or five pieces. Wei Renlong’s stroke hadn’t finished; it still had two variations left, slicing directly toward Gu Fengchen’s shoulders.

At this critical moment, Gu Fengchen heard a soft voice behind him: “Forward! Thrust his belly!”

Without time to think, Gu Fengchen lowered his head and charged headlong forward. This thrust happened to target the sole weakness of “Seven Stars Fall from the Vault of Heaven.”

The move implied “stars” falling from the sky, naturally descending from above, leaving the practitioner’s lower defenses exposed. Originally, this stance in the Seven Stars Saber included a knee strike—one purpose to protect the lower body, the other to strike an incoming enemy. Used this way, it combined offense and defense into its excellence. But Wei Renlong, in a momentary lapse, seeing the monk barely able to stand, neglected to guard his lower body.

Gu Fengchen naturally couldn’t spot this flaw. But Xue Wuhen, behind him, possessed vast combat experience and saw it instantly, speaking the counter.

With blade light already before his eyes, Gu Fengchen clenching his teeth shut his eyes and plunged upward. Every monk from Shaolin Temple practiced iron head kung fu. Though Gu Fengchen had lost his martial arts, his skull was still intensely hardened. Without channeling energy, he could smash through three blue bricks. Wei Renlong’s blade swept through empty air as his opponent pressed into close quarters. Sensing danger, Wei Renlong had no time to dodge. He took a solid impact squarely in his lower belly.

With a stifled groan, Wei Renlong flew back several feet, his knife clattered to the floor. Clutching his lower belly with both hands, he doubled over in agony. Gu Fengchen’s head thrust had angled slightly low, striking something far too vital. Wei Renjie bellowed, “Bastard! You want to turn my big brother into a eunuch?!” He charged forward, knives flashing. Hands separated left and right, executing the blade move “Wild Horse Parts Its Mane,” hacking at Gu Fengchen’s waist and belly.

This was a deadly saber technique from the “Chaotic Gale” sword art. If successful, Gu Fengchen would be hacked into at least three pieces. But few saber techniques in the world could fool Xue Wuhen’s discerning eye. Casually, he handed Gu Fengchen the white waxwood horsetail whip beside the bed. “Poke his eyes!” Gu Fengchen immediately thrust the whip forward. Just as Wei Renjie had separated his knives, the whip point stabbed towards his face. He shrieked in terror, flipped back over ten feet, crashed through the window with a bang, and landed on the street below, provoking cries of alarm from pedestrians.

The other three Wei brothers advanced in turn. Xue Wuhen offered casual instructions, and Gu Fengchen’s white waxwood rod poked out at three wrists in succession, preventing any of the Five Wei Tigers from getting close.

Wei Renlong struggled upright. Witnessing this, he knew the man on the bed was extraordinary. If they couldn’t finish off these two men, each holding on to half a life, the Wei family’s prestige would be forever swept away. He’d have no face left to roam the Jianghu ever again. Hardening his resolve, he roared, “No more holding back! Go for the kill!” Picking up his steel blade, he retreated several steps. Wei Renjie also scrambled back into the room. The five moved in unison; they all raised their blades overhead. At Wei Renlong’s shout, a whooshing sound filled the air—six knives flew through the air like javelins.

Cornered in the narrow space by the bed, unable to dodge, it seemed certain Gu Fengchen and Xue Wuhen would be impaled. Suddenly, Crash! Crash! Crash-crash! Several latticed windows shattered. Two figures, wraith-like, materialized before them. Eight palms simultaneously reached out, gently plucking the six knives from the air.

One man was extremely fat, the other extremely thin. The Twin Shades of the Netherworld had arrived.

After finding Qin Tangguan by the Yi River, they had been locked in an earth-shaking battle that stretched over several days without resolution. Driven to riskier tactics, Qin Tangguan deliberately spread news of his whereabouts along his route, attracting experts from both respectable and unorthodox factions. The Twin Shades, unwilling to let others gain the lead, had disposed of several skilled rivals who got too close. But pursuing crowds kept gathering. Engrossed in their own fight, they eventually lost Qin Tangguan’s trail completely. Following the route pursued by the others, they arrived in Datong.

The Five Wei Tigers, suddenly without weapons, prepared to advance. They were met by a cacophony of metal—Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang! The six knives shattered into twelve pieces littering the ground. Before the Five Tigers could react, the Twin Shades darted among them. The Wei brothers’ skills resided entirely in their blades; their fists and kicks were unremarkable. Guan Buyi and Cao Buren employed techniques known as “Biting the Chicken Rib” and “Borrowing Jingzhou.” All Five brothers were struck consecutively, sent flying crashing out the windows.

Guan Buyi clapped his hands with a giggle. “Ah, quiet at last for the ears.” Cao Buren turned to Gu Fengchen. “Boy, where’s that old fellow Qin hiding?” Gu Fengchen widened his eyes. “Old Qin? What old Qin? Who are you people?” Cao Buren snapped, “Enough nonsense! Where did you get these clothes?” Gu Fengchen sneered coldly, “Get them? I don’t even know where they came from myself.”

Guan Buyi tilted his head to peer at the bed and said with a playful grin, “And this gentleman on the bed? What exalted figure might you be? Come out and show yourself.” Before he finished speaking, his smile froze solid on his face. Cao Buren, noticing his changed expression, also leaned in for a look. A single glance sent him staggering back several steps. “The Eight Steeds of the Crimson Lotus… Marquis of Phantom Shadow – Xue Wuhen!”

Gu Fengchen’s heart stirred. Back at Shaolin Temple, he vaguely remembered his master telling him stories—over a decade ago, the Eight Steeds of the Crimson Lotus had once shaken the world.

“The eight legendary steeds that the king mastered: first was Juedi, whose hooves never touched the ground; second was Fanyu, who outran flying birds; third was Benxiao, who traveled ten thousand miles in a night; fourth was Chaoying, who raced beside the sun; fifth was Yuhui, whose coat shone brilliantly; sixth was Chaoguang, one form perceived as ten; seventh was Tengwu, who galloped upon the clouds; eighth was Fuyi, who bore wings of flesh.”

Each of the Crimson Lotus Eight Steeds possessed extraordinary abilities. Gu Fengchen hadn’t memorized their names, but now it seemed Xue Wuhen before him was one of them.

Naturally, Gu Fengchen did not know that both Xue Wuhen and Qin Tangguan were renowned figures within the Three Talents and Eight Steeds, and that the Three Talents ranked higher than the Eight Steeds. Yet why did the Twin Shades of the Netherworld fear Xue Wuhen but not Qin Tangguan? In truth, the Twin Shades were considered first-class masters in the Jianghu. Based purely on martial arts cultivation, their combined strength wasn’t inferior to the Eight Steeds. But the principles of mutual counteraction in this world were truly unfathomable. While Cao Buren and Guan Buyi’s lightness skills “Cao Arrives as Spoken” and “Solitary Charge for a Thousand Miles” were exceptional, and their strange techniques “Chicken Rib Technique” and “Borrowing Jingzhou Strategy” were highly unorthodox, Xue Wuhen happened to be their natural nemesis. This was because, besides possessing superior lightness skills, Xue Wuhen had cultivated the “Divine Void Valley Art”.

The so-called Divine Void Valley Art was fundamentally based on emptiness, its foundation being void. The practitioner became like an empty vessel, capable of absorbing any external force. For example, the method of “blood transfer to cure poison” transformed one’s body into a massive blood vessel for such a purpose. When Xue Wuhen engaged an enemy, if you struck him with a palm, you would often feel as if your force met no resistance, as if striking empty air. This principle applied similarly when the Divine Void Valley Art was used offensively. If he hit you with a Void Valley Fist, the struck area would instantly become “empty”—blocking blood flow and paralyzing tendons and meridians. It would take at least the time needed to drink a cup of tea to force the blockage open with internal energy. If this fist struck the heart or internal organs, death could be instantaneous. Only if the victim’s skill exceeded Xue Wuhen’s would they be relatively unscathed, and even then, they had to prevent their heart channels from being hit.

The Twin Shades of the Netherworld were most skilled in techniques that borrowed and redirected force. But when facing Xue Wuhen, they found they could not “borrow” any force from him, making “redirecting force” impossible. Thus, their profound martial skills became utterly useless, rendering them less effective than a third-rate fighter.

Xue Wuhen had clashed with the Twin Shades several times over a dozen years prior. Without deep enmity between them, and Xue Wuhen not being bloodthirsty, he had never resorted to lethal force. Yet, every time the Twin Shades recalled Xue Wuhen, it felt like thorns pricking their backs—they both hated and feared him.

After Xue Wuhen disappeared from the Jianghu, the Twin Shades assumed they need fear no other master. So, encountering their nemesis again today in Datong City naturally filled them with shock.

Seeing Xue Wuhen, Cao Buren immediately wanted to smash through the window and flee. But Guan Buyi had a different idea and scrutinized the situation for a few more moments. Gu Fengchen sensed danger and reflexively moved to shield the head of the bed. This action only made Guan Buyi more suspicious. He chuckled coldly, “Senior Brother, today’s ‘Marquis of Phantom Shadow’ isn’t what he used to be.”

Seeing no movement from the bed, Cao Buren was also puzzled. “How so?”

Guan Buyi said, “He’s poisoned.”

A cold glint suddenly flashed in Cao Buren’s eyes. Without another word, the two exchanged a look and immediately launched a flurry of palm strikes towards Gu Fengchen.

Xue Wuhen had been desperately circulating his energy to expel the poison. Alas, the toxicity of the Yin-Yang Stew was exceptionally rare in the world. Though he had expelled most of it, he remained incapable of rising and dared not relax even slightly. Therefore, he was utterly defenseless against the Twin Shades’ attack. The moment he saw them strike at Gu Fengchen, he understood they were using their signature technique: if Gu Fengchen merely blocked, parried, or retaliated with a single move, the force channeled through him would multiply several times over before rebounding onto Xue Wuhen himself.

Unaware of the danger, Gu Fengchen readied to defend himself. “Don’t touch his palms!” Xue Wuhen cried out. Gu Fengchen, thinking their palms were poisoned, recoiled in shock. Xue Wuhen then commanded, “Get away from me. The farther the better.” Bewildered but lacking time to think, Gu Fengchen lurched forward, stumbling through the space between the two assassins to land in the center of the room.

Just then, two dull thuds sounded behind him. The Twin Shades had been unable to withdraw their palms, and both strikes landed squarely on Xue Wuhen’s chest. Gu Fengchen’s heart sank—this couldn’t be good. With Xue Wuhen concentrating all his energy on expelling poison and unable to muster a defensive force, such a blow from these formidable fighters should surely shatter his internal organs!

To everyone’s surprise, Xue Wuhen made no sound upon being struck. Instead, two pained groans rose from beneath the bed—clearly others had been hurt.

The Twin Shades had intended these strikes for Gu Fengchen to rebound on Xue Wuhen. Missing Gu Fengchen, they’d landed directly on Xue Wuhen, but the immense force had transferred entirely beneath the bed. Two men were crammed under there, who had just been deeply engaged in worshipping the Blissful Buddha. Now, they had quite literally met their deities face to face.

Xue Wuhen drew a sharp breath, forcing the poisoned blood into the left half of his body, freeing his right hand to counterattack the Twin Shades. The three fighters clashed with five palms in a dizzying blur, exchanging seven or eight techniques in the blink of an eye.

Because Xue Wuhen’s Divine Void Valley Art was the natural counter to the Twin Shades’ techniques, even using only one palm, he forced them mostly onto the defensive. When their palms did connect occasionally, the Twin Shades found no force to borrow. All the while, Xue Wuhen parried their attacks casually while concentrating his energy into the left side of his body, striving to expel the poison.

The Twin Shades watched Xue Wuhen’s complexion gradually normalize and grew increasingly fearful, yet being unable to borrow force, they were at a loss. They exchanged another glance and suddenly struck out at each other simultaneously. Their plan was to draw force from each other to counterattack Xue Wuhen. This tactic was, in fact, the very reason the Twin Shades always stayed together – when no other source of force was available, they would resort to each other.

There was no way for Xue Wuhen to counter this. He could tell Gu Fengchen to stay far away, but he couldn’t dismiss these two fiends. The moment their palms made contact, the doubled force, combined with the poison, would rebound onto Xue Wuhen. Even if it didn’t kill him instantly, he would find it absolutely impossible to withstand.

But just then, a figure flashed between the Twin Shades. It was Gu Fengchen. Having jumped clear earlier, he had thought Xue Wuhen meant for him to escape for his life. But as a man of honor, how could he abandon his savior? In Gu Fengchen’s mind, his survival from drowning and the poisoned needles was solely due to this stranger’s efforts. They were unacquainted, yet Xue Wuhen had undertaken such a task—truly a great man of immense goodness. Seeing the Twin Shades strike out again, he didn’t discern their target clearly. With a shout, he leaped towards them. Bereft of all his previous strength, he had already resolved that even if he couldn’t save his benefactor, he would take a blow meant for him. To die before his savior would still be a form of repayment.

But fate is ever unpredictable; those seeking death can be the most difficult to kill. Gu Fenghen leaped precisely into the space between the two assassins. Both of the Twin Shades’ palms landed squarely on him.

Originally meant to rebound onto Xue Wuhen, Gu Fengchen’s sudden, forceful insertion caught the Twin Shades unprepared. The force of their blows landing on Gu Fengchen, combined with their extreme proximity to each other, transferred the entire rebound force instantly onto their comrade.

Ironically, the Twin Shades had earlier tried to strike Gu Fengchen but missed. Now, striking when they hadn’t intended, they struck home.

Two muffled grunts echoed. The Twin Shades stumbled back several steps, clutching their chests, faces contorted in agony. Since their debut, they had likely never encountered a situation like today. Earlier, they had struck with nearly full power—nine-tenths of their strength—blows even they themselves couldn’t have fully withstood.

Feeling turbulent waves crashing in their chests, both spat out mouthfuls of blood, suffering significant internal injuries.

Gu Fengchen, after taking their blows and believing he was surely dead, was astonished to find himself uninjured upon exhaling; he even felt rather soothed. Watching the Twin Shades’ agony, he was utterly puzzled. Even with his original internal energy intact, he would never have been powerful enough to cause such an effect.

The Twin Shades, unaware that Gu Fengchen’s interference had accidentally injured them, assumed he was Xue Wuhen’s disciple and a master of the Divine Void Valley Art. Gritting their teeth, Guan Buyi demanded, “Kid, who are you? Dare you leave your name?”

Gu Fengchen declared loudly, “I am Gu Fengchen. If you seek repayment for this humiliation, come find me!”

The Twin Shades, sharing the same thought, didn’t reply. Together, they activated their lightness skills, seeming to skim over the ground as they departed. Xue Wuhen noted that despite their severe injuries, their movements were barely slower than usual – proof of their remarkable skill, which earned a silent nod of acknowledgment from him.

Watching them flee into the distance, Gu Fengchen quietly sighed in relief. He approached the bed and bowed deeply to Xue Wuhen. “Thank you, Senior, for saving my life.”

Xue Wuhen responded coldly, “No need for thanks. You just saved mine moments ago. Let’s just consider it even.”

Gu Fengchen waved his hands in protest, “Not at all. You saved me first. You are my benefactor.”

Xue Wuhen didn’t argue, just studied him sidelong. “You’re from the Shaolin Sect, aren’t you? Who was your master?”

Gu Fengchen said, “I’ve been expelled. I am no longer a Shaolin disciple.”

Xue Wuhen asked, “Then why dress like this?”

Gu Fengchen concealed nothing. He recounted escorting Lian’er to the Valley of Ten Thousand Flowers, leaving the valley after being poisoned, and encountering the old man in white robes.

Xue Wuhen listened silently. Finally, he said, “The person you seek… I might know him.”

Gu Fengchen’s face lit up with joy. “Ah! Yes, Senior, you possess vast experience. Perhaps you have seen this man!” He took the scroll from his back, unrolled it, and presented the portrait.

Xue Wuhen’s gaze fixed on the painting. A cold smile touched his lips. “Indeed, I do know him.”

Gu Fengchen pressed urgently, “Where is he? Is he in Gansu?”

Xue Wuhen frowned. “Gansu? Buried in Gansu, you mean?”

Gu Fengchen was stunned. “What? Buried…?”

Xue Wuhen stated flatly, “He’s a dead man. If he’s not buried in Gansu, where else would he be? Does he live in Gansu?”

Gu Fengchen was shocked. “He’s dead?”

Xue Wuhen said, “Indeed. He passed away over a decade ago.”

Gu Fengchen exclaimed urgently, “Impossible! If he’s dead, why would that little girl be looking for him?” Xue Wuhen asked, “How old is this girl?” Gu Fengchen replied, “Around eleven or twelve.” Xue Wuhen said, “Then it’s clear—this man died before she was born. How could she know otherwise?” Gu Fengchen demanded, “How do you know all this?” Xue Wuhen explained, “He belonged to Mount Tai Sect, a sworn enemy of ours. If not for him, our Leader Ling wouldn’t have taken her own life! Hmph, had he survived, this Xue would’ve been the first to hunt him down. But alas, he died… The Red Lotus Sect can never avenge her now. That remains our greatest regret.”

Gu Fengchen slumped onto the bed, brows furrowed. “If he’s dead… then that child’s life is…”

Xue Wuhen stared at him and asked, “Why didn’t you die despite such rare poison in you?” Gu Fengchen smiled faintly. “Surviving till now is a miracle itself.”

Xue Wuhen probed, “Do you know who shot the three poisoned needles at you?”

Gu Fengchen shook his head.

Xue Wuhen declared, “It was Long Xielan of the Four Great Clans.”

Gu Fengchen jolted. He knew the name well but couldn’t fathom why she’d kill him. Xue Wuhen, seeing his confusion, elaborated, “The Four Great Clans long sought to replace Shaolin as Jianghu’s foremost sect. Yet for centuries, Shaolin Temple produced unrivaled talent in martial prowess. Thus, the clans conspired to weaken Shaolin by exploiting Jianghu conflicts. Years ago, Shaolin faced its greatest crisis when Tibetan esoteric masters besieged Mount Shaoshi. In the end, those masters perished, while Shaolin’s seven champions dwindled to just Guang Xing. Shaolin’s decline allowed the Four Great Clans to seize prominence—all orchestrated by them. Today, Long Xielan assumed my carriage held a hostage. Hearing your labored breath, she detected Shaolin’s inner energy in you. So she secretly shot those three needles to kill you. Had you died, the blame would’ve fallen on me—pitting Red Lotus Sect against Shaolin. Once they attacked us again, would Shaolin remain idle?”

Gu Fengchen’s heart raced. Guang Xing had once told him of the attack on Red Lotus Sect by the Four Great Clans. Back then, the sect was deemed heretical—its leaders eccentric, but not cruel. When the clans rallied forces against it, they sought seven major sects’ aid. But Shaolin and Wudang refused, claiming the sect lacked sufficient infamy and that acting violated their creeds. The truth was simpler: having no ties to it, both sects saw no reason to bleed for others’ battles.

Xue Wuhen channeled his last surge of energy. With a soft sizzle, the final stream of poisoned blood erupted. He circulated his qi, ensuring no toxin remained, then laughed heartily and leapt to his feet.

Gu Fengchen felt relieved to see him restored but dared not linger. He bowed to Xue Wuhen. “Senior Xue, urgent matters call. Should I live, I’ll repay this debt.” As he turned to leave, Xue Wuhen stopped him. “Hold. Answer one thing.” Gu Fengchen nodded. “Speak.”

Xue Wuhen asked, “That white-robed elder who pulled you off the cliff—you truly don’t know where he is?” Gu Fengchen answered, “I swear I’ve no clue where he vanished.” Xue Wuhen nodded. “Very well. Go.”

Gu Fengchen saluted again, retrieved silver fragments from a patron’s robe hung nearby, and exited the brothel. He bought a horse in the market, spurred it onward, and soon left Datong City behind.

Noticing his robe’s conspicuous red lotus emblem, he wore it inside-out. Evening approached as hunger gnawed at his stomach.

After passing roadside teahouses and taverns, he entered one and ate ravenously, then sought lodging at a farmhouse.

Yet by midnight, sleep evaded him. His mind wrestled: If I return telling the Yin-Yang Twin Immortals this, they’ll never believe me. They’ll kill that child! But Xue Wuhen’s words rang true—how to resolve this?

Hours later, an idea struck: Xue Wuhen said he was from Mount Tai Sect. Mount Taiyue lies in southern Shanxi. Why not go there to inquire?

Setting his resolve cleared his thoughts, and he finally slept soundly.

At dawn, Gu Fengchen ate hastily and rode off. With the horse, he covered six hundred miles in under four days. By dusk, he reached Mount Taiyue’s foothills.

Also known as Mount Huotai, ancients once mistook this peak for China’s highest hence its name (“tai” meaning “supreme”). Legend says Yu the Great ascended it to worship heaven. Han dynasty deemed it one of the Five Sacred Peaks.

Mount Tai Sect, founded two centuries ago by Patriarch Mu Daozi, remained North China’s major sect, headquartered at Green Pine Temple on Mount Mian. Gu Fengchen had never visited. Now, as dusk bled into sky, the glow caught pine tips, ancient trees towered above, streams crisscrossed valleys, and birds sang while monkeys swung—a scene of unexpected serenity.

Enjoying the view, Gu Fengchen rode straight toward Mount Mian.

Green Pine Temple stood halfway up the mountain. As slopes grew steeper, he tied his horse to a roadside tree and climbed onward. Soon, lantern light pierced the darkness—the temple’s mountain gate.

Reaching the entrance, he spotted two swaying lanterns and a half-open vermilion door, its paint long peeled with rot showing through. Such a decline, Gu Fengchen sighed. Decades ago, Mount Tai Sect ranked among Jianghu’s grandest. Now decay settles here.

He knocked firmly. With a boom, both gates crashed inward. Startled, he examined the pivots and discovered them snapped. Only then did he spot two deep palm prints embossed into the wood like stamps.

The Mount Tai Sect’s “Immortal Palm” technique, he deduced. Word says their martial arts regressed these twenty years. Root cause: years back, a brutal clash with Red Lotus Sect killed Mount Tai’s masters. Their youth lacked the foundation, so advanced techniques faded. Now only Vice-Leader Zhang Xunxian commands seventy percent of the Immortal Palm. That drunkard likely did this. Acting like the legendary Lu Zhishen by drunkenly wrecking his sect’s gate.

Stepping through the doorway, a shadowy figure lunged at him. Blood hung thickly in the air before they met. The assailant stretched both hands for Gu Fengchen’s throat. Mystified, Gu Fengchen thought: Mount Tai’s manuals never described this. Some new martial art?

Regardless, he couldn’t let those hands close. He slipped sideways, and the attacker collapsed. Lantern light revealed a blood-drenched figure in Mount Tai robes—one of its disciples. The man pointed skyward, choked twice in his throat, then died.

Shaken, Gu Fengchen saw a gaping chest wound. Likely pierced by spear or blade.

Farther in lay a courtyard littered with five or six lifeless bodies of Mount Tai disciples, pools of blood beneath them. Each chest bore mortal wounds—his heart sank. If none survive, I’ll never learn about the portrait’s man.

He rushed to the secondary gate and pushed inside.

Inside the second gate was a large courtyard, planted with over ten ancient pine trees. By the light near the gate, Gu Fengchen suddenly saw a person standing beneath one pine tree with his back to the gate. The person’s Taoist crown lay scattered nearby, his hair was messy, and he stood perfectly still.

Gu Fengchen slowly walked beside the person. At a glance, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

He saw that the person’s eyes were wide open with a fierce expression, and both palms were stretched straight out, fully embedded into the trunk of the pine tree. Almost all the pine needles had fallen from the tree, forming a layer on the ground. A bloody hole pierced his chest, and droplets of blood were still dripping, landing in the piled pine needles.

The ability to thrust both palms into a pine tree with such skill undoubtedly belonged to none other than the deputy leader, Zhang Xunxian.

But now, Zhang Xunxian was also a dead man.

Gu Fengchen had already realized that the enemy was originally in front of the tree. When Zhang Xunxian pushed his palms forward, the enemy circled to the back of the tree and then pierced it with a spear from behind, killing him.

Reflecting on it now, Zhang Xunxian must have spotted the enemy at the mountain gate and trailed after them. The enemy might have been just one person who entered through the gate and immediately started killing. Zhang Xunxian had not caught up to him even after all the disciples in the temple were slain, and in the end, the enemy took his life with a spear.

Gu Fengchen looked around. The Qing Song Temple was pitch-dark with no lights, its main door slightly ajar, and silence reigned within. He found a firestarter on Zhang Xunxian’s body and slowly climbed the steps. As he was about to push the door open, he suddenly heard voices inside.

“Do you submit or not?” The voice was extremely pleasant—it was actually a young woman.

Another elderly voice replied, “If I swallow this Submission Pill, I’ll have to obey you completely from now on. Hmph, go ahead and kill me. This humble monk would rather die than be your slave.” The girl said, “If you won’t submit to my pill, you think I can’t handle you? Take this strike!” Wind rustled, sounding like a fight.

Gu Fengchen couldn’t resist gently pushing open the temple door. The firestarter flared up, instantly lighting the interior.

As the light blazed, Gu Fengchen saw a long sword thrust at him like a flash of lightning, held by a tall-capped Taoist over fifty years old with grizzled hair and beard. The Taoist leaped into the air, merging himself with the sword as he fiercely stabbed at Gu Fengchen.

The force of this sword carried the spirit of burning one’s bridges, since it was his final blow.

The Taoist was soaked in blood, with unknown wounds covering his body. Sword marks crisscrossed the room, and the window frames were shattered by sword gusts. Clearly, a brutal battle had just taken place.

Gu Fengchen had once heard Guang Xing describe the leaders of various sects. Judging by the appearance of the Taoist charging toward him, it was indeed Wu Yazi, the leader of the Mount Tai Sect.

This merging of body and sword was the Mount Tai Sect’s ultimate move, only used to perish alongside enemies: the Path of Man and Ghost.

Taken by surprise, Gu Fengchen only noticed the sword tip flying toward him when its chilling radiance almost touched his nose. Even with his internal energy intact, he could hardly avoid it. Weaponless in the crisis, Gu Fengchen had to retreat backward quickly while pulling off his outer robe and wrapping it around the sword.

But Wu Yazi’s strike had concentrated all his internal energy, making it truly formidable. With a ripping sound, the white robe was pierced. Gu Fengchen’s arm jerked violently; the condensed internal energy from the sword transmitted to his hand, and he lost his grip. The white robe flew into the air, revealing its blood-red lotus pattern.

Suddenly, a soft “Hmm?” came from the darkness inside the temple. Then the sword tip abruptly lost its force, drooping limply and clattering to the ground. Wu Yazi’s eyes bulged wide as he saw a spear tip protruding from his chest. He staggered out of the temple for a few steps, collapsed to the ground, and died.

A green pill rolled from the Taoist’s palm to Gu Fengchen’s feet and stopped.

Gu Fengchen sighed inwardly: It seemed no one from the Mount Tai Sect was left alive. But where could he inquire about the person in the painting? Who had such skill to annihilate Qing Song Temple overnight? Gu Fengchen picked up the pill and examined it. Then he walked to Wu Yazi’s corpse, reached out, pulled out the spear, and lit his firestarter to examine it closely.

It was an extraordinary spear. The entire shaft seemed forged from bright silver, shimmering under the light and not too heavy. The spearhead was nine inches long, extremely sharp. Strangely, it had no tassels beneath it but instead inlaid with a nine-petaled lotus flower. Combined with the spearhead, it looked like Guanyin standing on a lotus throne, exquisitely beautiful.

Seeing this lotus, Gu Fengchen’s heart suddenly stirred.

At that moment, a gentle breeze swept before his eyes. Gu Fengchen felt dizzy, and his grip lightened—the spear and the pill in his hand were snatched away.

The flame of the firestarter flickered briefly but didn’t jump. This person arrived as imperceptibly as a breeze stirring reeds, without stirring any dust or heat. Yet the tip of the silver spear rested against Gu Fengchen’s throat.

Many years later, Gu Fengchen still vividly remembered that scene. He knew clearly that all his previous encounters paled in comparison. His true destiny in the Jianghu began that very night. That evening, the bustling secular world felt to Gu Fengchen like this single silver spear.

The cold radiance on the silver spear tip was like an ice blade, and the murderous aura it emitted was colder than frost. Gu Fengchen looked up toward the opposite side.

He first saw a hand, extremely steady. Though holding the spear with a single hand, it didn’t tremble the slightest. This showed the person had excellent wrist strength.

Gu Fengchen saw that the hand wore a leather glove, revealing no skin. Checking the person’s body and face, they were likewise concealed in black clothes with a black veil over the face. Gu Fengchen vaguely felt he had seen this person somewhere before.

The two stood frozen for a moment. Then Gu Fengchen suddenly asked, “Did you kill them all?” The black-clad figure didn’t answer. Gu Fengchen raised his eyebrows and said, “Do you have a grudge against the Mount Tai Sect?” The black-clad figure still didn’t answer. Suddenly, it asked, “Where did you get that outfit on you?” The voice was sweet and clear—it was actually a woman.

Gu Fengchen paused for a beat, then laughed loudly, “Why does everyone who sees me ask about my clothes? If you, Miss, find it attractive, you can take it.” The black-clad woman said coldly, “Are you from the Red Lotus Sect?” Gu Fengchen felt a stir inside and shook his head, saying, “No.”

The black-clad woman’s arm pushed forward slightly, piercing Gu Fengchen’s skin with the spear tip and drawing a trickle of blood. “Tell the truth!”

Gu Fengchen had no fear and declared loudly, “Isn’t, then isn’t! Would I, Gu Fengchen, lie to you?”

The woman in black said coldly, “You practice Shaolin Sect kung fu. Why are you wearing this robe?”

Gu Fengchen asked, “How do you know I practice Shaolin kung fu?” The woman in black sneered, “Just now, when I seized the spear, though you reacted slowly, you still assumed the stance of Shaolin’s Flower-Plucking Palm. Do you think I couldn’t see?”

Gu Fengchen nodded. “Good eyes. Who are you? Why did you ruin my mission?” The woman in black sneered, “Ruin your mission? What mission…” Gu Fengchen shouted, “Of course! You slaughtered everyone in the Mount Tai Sect. Who can I consult for news now? Ask you?”

The woman in black gave a cold laugh. “Fine, tell me then…” Gu Fengchen unrolled the scroll. “Do you know this man? He’s from the Mount Tai Sect.” The woman in black glanced at it. “Of course I do.” Gu Fengchen rolled up the scroll and asked urgently, “Where is he?”

The woman in black said, “Why should I tell you? Let’s make an exchange. You tell me one thing, and I’ll tell you this man’s whereabouts.”

Gu Fengchen asked, “What could I possibly tell you?” The woman in black said, “Just tell me one thing: where is Qin Tangguan?” Gu Fengchen replied, “What Qin or Tang? I know nothing of such names.”

The woman in black sneered, “If you won’t tell me, I won’t tell you either.” Gu Fengchen shouted angrily, “You…”

At that very moment, an alarmed cry suddenly came from outside the mountain gate. Immediately afterward, a figure swooped in like a great roc spreading its wings.

Gu Fengchen recognized the newcomer at a glance: it was Shaolin’s Guangdu.

After the incident at Jianxian Manor when Xue Wuhen wreaked havoc, Guangdu, unable to catch up, wasted no time and hastened back to Shaolin. Reaching Lüliang Mountain, he suddenly recalled the deep enmity between the Mount Tai Sect and the Red Lotus Sect. If the Red Lotus Cult dared cause trouble at Jianxian Manor, they surely would dare challenge the Mount Tai Sect. The Mount Tai Sect’s leader, Wu Yazi, shared a moderate friendship with Guangdu. Thus, Guangdu rushed up the mountain that very night to warn Wu Yazi. However, upon reaching the mountain gate, Feng Kong discovered the dead bodies at the entrance.

His heart burning with urgency, Guangdu flew forward and unexpectedly saw Gu Fengchen, causing him both surprise and confusion. Yet, when his eyes fell on the woman in black, he paused slightly.

His gaze fixed on the silver spear in the woman’s hand. Earlier, he had discerned that everyone had been slain by spear thrusts. Now, it seemed this very spear was responsible. Guangdu was no stranger to this weapon. He took a deep breath and asked slowly, “Lover’s Spear! Are you from the Red Lotus Sect?”

The woman in black assessed Guangdu with a glance and sneered, “Shaolin’s here too. Come to champion the cause?” Ignoring her sarcasm, Guangdu pressed on, “What is Ling Yufeng to you?” The woman in black scoffed, “Don’t bother me…” As she spoke, without any apparent movement, her body drifted backward like a lotus swaying in the breeze, a strikingly graceful sight.

Normally, Guangdu would never chase after a young woman. But today was extraordinary. He needed answers. He surged forward. “The Mount Tai Sect were all slain by spear thrusts. Was it you…!” The woman in black cut him off, “Indeed it was. What will you do about it?” Guangdu pressed his palms together and intoned loudly, “Amitabha…”

Gu Fengchen knew Guangdu’s temperament. When rage filled him beyond containment, he did precisely this – a sign that his ensuing attack would hold no mercy.

True enough, Guangdu’s wide sleeve swept upward. He descended like a Buddha manifest from heaven and punched through the air.

A fierce wind howled audibly through the space. It was Shaolin’s peerless art: Vajra Pestle.

This fist technique prioritized qi; contact wasn’t necessary, as masters could injure opponents intangible from several feet away. The woman in black had retreated to beneath a courtyard tree when the fist wind arrived abruptly. Her body suddenly spiraled upward like a celestial dragon and landed atop the tree’s crown.

A fist-sized hole exploded open in the trunk – thick enough to warrant two men’s embrace – sending wood shards flying.

The woman in black had barely landed on the treetop when Guangdu surged toward her like an enraged dragon. In the blink of an eye, he unleashed over ten palms in rapid succession: a set of Thousand-Armed Tathagata Palms.

The essence of this palm technique was blinding speed, leaving opponents unable to parry. While most fast palm techniques risked becoming flimsy, Shaolin’s Thousand-Armed Tathagata Palms were grounded in the sect’s profound Internal Energy. Swift and ferocious, a single hit could inflict severe injury and blood vomiting, draining any capacity to evade the follow-up assault.

The woman in black used a spear, excelling at long-range combat but vulnerable close-up. This onslaught should have been impossible for her to withstand. Yet she didn’t retreat or dodge. She snorted coldly and suddenly thrust her spear forward.

This thrust was unique. She gripped the spear shaft’s middle section, swinging it like a short staff to parry Guangdu’s palms with sharp ‘clacking’ sounds. Then she thrust directly down the center, straight at Guangdu’s throat.

Guangdu, a seasoned veteran, reacted instantly. He pulled his palms inward, trapping the spear tip with a resounding clap, intending to wrest the silver spear from her.

But the woman in black was not just skilled with the spear; her control over it was supreme. She’d demonstrated this earlier by seizing it from Gu Fengchen. Now, an even stranger technique emerged. Instead of thrusting or pulling back, she twisted both palms. The spear shaft suddenly spun wildly in the air. Simultaneously, the nine-petal iron lotus beneath its tip scattered like shooting stars, hurtling toward Guangdu. Evidently, if Guangdu didn’t release the spear, he’d be struck by the iron petals. Yet if he released it, she could drive the spear straight through his heart.

A deadly dilemma!

Guangdu remained one of Shaolin’s premier masters. Seeing the iron petals fly, he arched his body backward first. Releasing his hands simultaneously, he launched a kick straight up at the silver spear. Meanwhile, he flourished his wide sleeves and drifted lightly down from the tree.

The woman in black repelled Guangdu, casually catching the shaft mid-air. With a resonant swish, the nine iron petals snapped perfectly back together beneath the tip, magnetized, an eerie sight.

Guangdu had barely touched down when the woman in black lunged through the air. Clearly provoked, she now thirsted for a decisive duel. Guangdu, undeterred, spread his palms to meet her silver spear.

In an instant, their clash reached life-or-death intensity. The woman in black, ultimately lacking combat experience, fell for Guangdu’s feint. His left palm forced her spear wide. His right fist gathered power, poised to strike with Vajra Pestle aimed at her skull.

Shadowed by her black veil, the woman’s expression was unreadable. Gu Fengchen, however, paled drastically.

His only hope of rescuing Lian’er lay in learning the scroll-man’s whereabouts from her. If Guangdu killed her, finding the man would be impossible; Lian’er would be doomed. He would die consumed by regret.

Under these circumstances, the woman in black must not die by Guangdu’s hand.

Anxious desperation surged through Gu Fengchen. With a burst of inexplicable energy, he flung himself before Guangdu, seizing his arm and shouting, “You can’t kill her…!” A thought flashed in Guangdu’s mind: Buddha forbids killing. Feeling this ripple through him, his arm dropped.

But the opening the woman in black revealed was deliberately set. Her silver spear suddenly spun like a windmill, reversing ends. The pointed counterweight at its base stabbed upward viciously.

This strike had been meant for Guangdu. However, Gu Fengchen was now between them. The woman in black couldn’t change the trajectory. The spearhead plunged deep into Gu Fengchen’s shoulder – nearly three inches – almost piercing clear through.

The woman in black, stunned by his self-shielding sacrifice, faltered briefly. Guangdu, seeing Gu Fengchen wounded, roared in fury and hurled a Vajra Pestle strike toward her. Had it landed, it would have shattered her organs, killing her instantly via blood-vomiting.

Though wounded in the shoulder, Gu Fengchen’s senses were alarmingly acute. Seeing the woman’s peril, disregarding the spear still embedded in his flesh, he leaped forward like a tiger, shielding her. He moved with shocking decisiveness.

Guangdu was utterly dumbfounded. Never had he guessed Gu Fengchen would protect the woman. Had his Vajra Pestle landed on Gu Fengchen’s back, no deity could have saved him. Now, it was too late to retract the blow.

As Gu Fengchen faced imminent death – bones shattered, blood gushing – a figure streaked down like lightning from atop Qing Song Monastery’s roof. Diving into the fray, the newcomer seized Gu Fengchen and raised a palm to meet Guangdu’s Vajra Pestle strike.

A heavy, muffled sound followed: “Pfftt!!”

Fist met palm. Both combatants staggered back several steps, staggered by the impact.

Their power nearly matched; both had struck with full might. None could gain the upper hand. Guangdu felt his Qi surge turbid; ribs felt near bursting; his head rang fiercely; a thread of blood trickled from his mouth. The intruder too lost his stance, stumbling backward a zhang (~3.3 meters) while dragging Gu Fengchen. He spat a mouthful of blood but utilized the momentum to propel himself back wildly several zhang, vanishing into the enveloping night. He moved with astonishing swiftness.

Seeing her rescuer depart, the woman in black disengaged unhesitantly. She flicked her wrist, launching a five-colored smoke bomb. Landing with a “Pomf!,” it erupted into opaque mist. By the time it cleared, she had fled – as elusive as a wild goose vanishing into obscurity.

Guangdu stamped his foot heavily on the ground, silently cursing his lack of sufficient power. “If my junior brother Guang Xing were here,” he thought bitterly, “he undoubtedly could’ve captured that ringleader and avenged the Mount Tai Sect!”

Feng Kong stepped forward. “Master, why did Fengchen aid that woman?” Guangdu scoffed coldly, “It seems Fengchen has truly defected to the Red Lotus Sect. Feng Jue must have fallen by his hand. That woman is evidently a key figure in their cult. Such formidable skill at her age… truly alarming. We hurry back to Shaolin. Report this to the abbot.” His voice dripped with scorn and condemnation.

Gu Fengchen felt utterly exhausted—further weakened by his shoulder wound—and sank into unconsciousness. These days, he’d struggled desperately only to learn about the man in the scroll, hoping to rescue Lian’er and fulfil his purpose.

Yet chaotic twists prevailed: many seemed to recognize the portrait, but gave conflicting accounts. Could it be that he would truly fail Feng Jue’s dying wish?

When he finally awoke again, a familiar face appeared before him. It was the white-robed old man.

The white-robed elder had pursued Gu Fengchen relentlessly these past days. Risking condemnation from righteous factions of the martial world, he’d tracked diligently, finally discovering traces of Gu Fengchen leading to Mount Tai. Concealed nearby the whole time, he witnessed Gu Fengchen’s exchange with the woman in black and Guangdu’s subsequent entry — yet refrained from revealing himself until Gu Fengchen faced mortal peril. Only then did he intervene and rescue him.

Gu Fengchen scanned his surroundings. He lay within a dilapidated thatched hall, two stories tall, connected by worn stairs, seemingly resembling an old tavern. He rested among stacks of straw surrounded by several shattered tables strewn chaotically, covered in dust half an inch thick. The white-robed elder sat perched at one such table, watching him intently.

Seeing Gu Fengchen open his eyes, the white-robed elder sighed deeply. “I feared you might never wake.” Gu Fengchen asked weakly, “Who are you? Why did you save me?”

The white-robed old man smiled. “My name is Qin Tangguan. Naturally, this isn’t the first you’ve heard it? I inspected your wounds and discovered: your Internal Energy is entirely depleted; your tendons and meridians lie in chaos; the poison within you runs deep. Living until now borders on a miracle.” He paused deliberately, his smile turning thin and sharp.

Gu Fengchen managed a faint smile. “Then perhaps you should congratulate me.” Qin Tangguan chuckled, a sound like scraping stone. “However, before your death arrives… you must tell me one thing.” Gu Fengchen queried tiredly, “What thing?”

Qin Tangguan unfurled the scroll. Leaning close, he stared directly into Gu Fengchen’s eyes. “Did you… meet a little girl? Speak slowly.” His inquiry carried palpable pressure.

Gu Fengchen answered simply, “Yes. I did meet one. This scroll is hers.” His admission was direct.

Qin Tangguan leaned closer, urgency sharpening his voice. “Where is she?” Gu Fengchen countered flatly, “Why should I tell you? Do you know the man in the scroll?” Qin Tangguan’s hand snapped out, clamping Gu Fengchen’s wrist, channeling a surge of internal force towards his heart meridian. He sneered viciously, “If you refuse again, you’ll never utter another word…” Gu Fengchen maintained calm despite the assault. “First, tell me who is in the scroll… tell me where he resides… then I’ll tell you about the girl…” He bargained under duress.

Before he could finish, distinct voices suddenly drifted inside from the mountain path outside the door. Qin Tangguan’s expression instantly hardened—he recognized the approaching speakers clearly. Their footsteps were abnormally light, already within three zhang (~10 meters) of the entrance. Consumed solely by obtaining information about Lian’er, Qin Tangguan had neglected vigilance earlier. By the time he processed the threat—attempting escape was impossible.

Qin Tangguan’s gaze darted around. Swiftly grabbing Gu Fengchen, he bounded onto the second floor, concealing them both behind a ruined liquor cabinet. Both held their breath, listening intently.