Chapter 157

Feng Yi returned to the inn, Wanyan Ping's corpse had already been buried by Zhen Zhibing and Zhao Zhijing; seeing his poor complexion, they were even more terrified and trembling.

Speaking of Feng Yi, the prior impression he gave Zhen and Zhao was as follows.

His personality is aloof and arrogant, his martial arts unfathomable; he is a rare genius in the martial world, like a lone peak standing tall, looking down on all heroes. Only in matters of lust is he condemned, and his feelings for Xiao Longnv are deep as well. (Note: This is Zhen Zhibing's sole understanding. For when Feng Yi first met Zhen Zhibing, after being asked how he knew of the events on Zhongnan Mountain, he claimed he liked Xiao Longnv and thus followed what he knew, leading Zhen Zhibing to believe they were like-minded.)

But as he became entangled with Li Mochou, he was simply a person who pursued beauty without any limits.

Zhen Zhibing originally thought he and Xiao Longnv were a good match, but now he has encountered a slender woman in green clothes and pursued her as well; this man's fickle, change‑chasing behavior is utterly unworthy of the pure and spotless goddess in his heart.

But when they examined Wanyan Ping's corpse, they again saw evidence of his character being utterly unlike that of ordinary people.

For Wanyan Ping was extremely beautiful; even in death she was lovely to behold, yet upon inspection they found every bone in her body shattered.

Moreover they knew that when Feng Yi struck, he did not utter a single word to Wanyan Ping.

For they had overheard the conversation between Cheng Ying and Wanyan Ping, while Feng Yi remained silent, clearly striking directly!

Such cruelty completely overturns the notion of being indiscriminate when facing a beautiful woman; it is just like when I killed Yelü Qi — if I think you deserve death, I show no mercy.

He does not consider at all how powerful your sect is, nor how beautiful you look.

This headstrong attitude leaves Zhen Zhibing and Zhao Zhijing uncertain whether their journey to Zhongnan Mountain will bring fortune or disaster to themselves and their sect.

Yet they dare not defy him, nor dare they flee!

They know that if they ran, the Quanzhen Sect would suffer terrible misfortune!

So the two lay down late at night, both unable to sleep.

The next day, Feng Yi saw that the two were heavy‑hearted, deeply aware that Wanyan Ping's death shocked them more than Yelü Qi's killing had, and he secretly smiled.

After they had eaten breakfast, Feng Yi found an old horse and rode north.

Along the way Feng Yi asked the two about the Daoist technical terms concerning cultivation of immortality.

Although the idea of immortality cultivation is something Zhao Zhijing and Zhen Zhibing do not believe, since their grand‑uncle Ma Yu loved to practice it in his spare time and ended up cultivating only a next life, yet when Feng Yi inquired they related what they could as best they could.

Speaking of the past, Feng Yi was naturally a scientism advocate; but now that transmigration and system events have occurred, to insist on speaking of science while calling immortality cultivation and heavenly mandate nonsense is pure madness.

Can science explain the transmigration of soul and flesh?

Therefore he always feels that the Daoist claim of immortality cultivation is not necessarily baseless, and one can study related knowledge.

After all, the fact that this world cannot practice immortality cultivation does not mean another world cannot.

He firmly believes that environment shapes a person.

The so-called "Shallow waters cannot raise dragons, a land of meager fortune cannot keep fine guests!" has never been empty words.

Therefore, he studied very diligently, even asking Zhen Zhibing for Mongolian language lessons. After all, not speaking Mongolian makes going to Mongolia extremely inconvenient.

Zhen Zhibing once accompanied Qiu Chuji westward to meet Genghis Khan and understood some simple Mongolian.

They traveled by day and lodged at night, taking remote routes where they could still find a small inn, but once on the main road it was different.

For the Mongol army had just passed through; near the main road, not to mention nine out of ten houses empty, it was literally devoid of chickens and dogs, with no trace of people, a sight that evoked sorrow.

Feng Yi frowned deeply, muttering: "I long knew Cao Cao had the saying 'White bones exposed in the fields, a thousand miles without a rooster's crow,' but I had never witnessed this scene; I fear that once Jiangnan falls, it will be the same."

Zhen Zhibing let out a long sigh, his expression solemn: "Indeed, back when Cao Mengde was merely attacking Yuan Shao, even our clan's internal strife evoked such lament.

But now it is foreign peoples in power; this Mongolia is a land of tigers and wolves. When I followed my master westward, I personally saw the cruelty of Mongol soldiers slaughtering cities and plundering land. If Jiangnan, this prosperous land, were to fall, even the chaos of the Five Barbarians and the shame of Jingkang would be insufficient to describe it!

Zhao Zhijing said: "There's nothing to be done; since the court's 'southward crossing' over a hundred years ago, we have harbored the heart to restore the nation but struggle to make it real—this is all because the enemy is strong and we are weak!

Relying solely on the strength of the Song state, even self‑preservation is insufficient, let alone repelling the enemy; that is why we allied with the Mongols to destroy the Jin.

Alas, now the Mongols have risen, their military strength unmatched under heaven; for the great Song to seek preservation is difficult.

A gust blew over; though it was the period between late spring and early summer, Feng Yi suddenly felt a chill, a bone‑piercing cold.

Given that Zhao Zhijing, a man of this sort, possesses such insight, it shows the great Song certainly has no shortage of talent, yet the fall of the country and the ruin of families are unavoidable—could it be that the Mongols truly bear the mandate of heaven and are unstoppable?

No matter how much more I do, it would be futile?

Soon, the group reached Shaanxi territory; Feng Yi suddenly reined in his horse and said, "Everyone, come out now!"

Zhao Zhijing exclaimed strangely: "Who is it??

At that moment, three elderly beggars emerged from a bend in the rocks; their leader was Lu Youjiao, chief of the Beggars' Sect, while the other two each carried seven sacks, being the Seven‑Bag disciples of the sect.

Feng Yi laughed heartily: "Chief Lu, you've come early indeed!"

Immediately dismounting, Zhen and Zhao also dared not delay; they dismounted and offered greetings, being old acquaintances, exchanging a few pleasantries.

Lu Youjiao said: "I was entrusted by Hero Guo and Sect Chief Huang to go meet Headmaster Qiu to discuss important matters; upon learning that Hero Feng, Daoist Zhen, and Daoist Zhao were traveling together, I waited here."

Zhen and Zhao's faces flushed; last time at the Heroes' Assembly they had been driven away by Yang Guo, never expecting that the Guo couple would still have sent someone.

Upon inquiry, they learned that Lu Youjiao's party had taken remote side roads, while Zhen Zhibing's group had taken the main road; thus both sides had intended to meet, yet their personnel never crossed paths.

The Beggars' Sect is the greatest gang under heaven; the group had not deliberately concealed their movements, so it is no surprise that the sect knew of their whereabouts. Here we are already not far from Mount Zhongnan; walking and talking, they soon arrived at the mountain's base.

In the distance, the azure‑tiled Mystic Palace loomed above the dense shade; Zhen and Zhao returning home, Feng Yi visiting again, all were filled with emotion.

Before they drew near, they saw a horse galloping like the wind, calling from afar: "Senior Brother Zhen!"

He wore a yellow robe and a star‑crowned hat, young in age, handsome and extraordinary, and leapt down from his horse.

"Junior Brother Qi!"

Zhen Zhibing also hastily dismounted, went forward to meet him, took his hand and asked: "What are you doing?"

The young Daoist glanced at Feng Yi and the others, then asked: "Senior Brother Zhen, Senior Brother Zhao, who are these people?"

Zhao Zhijing replied: "This is Hero Feng and Beggars' Sect Chief Lu, come to pay respects to the Headmaster True Person."

That Daoist startled, his voice trembling: "Feng Yi? The one associated with Li Mochou..."

This young Daoist is named Qi Zhicheng, also a disciple of Qiu Chuji. He had heard of Feng Yi's reputation, and Li Mochou had often clashed with his uncles, master, and martial uncles; the Quanzhen disciples had suffered many losses at her hands. Since the comer is Feng Yi, and the jianghu rumors say he has an intimate relationship with Li Mochou, almost as if they were husband and wife, then as one body he must be up to no good, which greatly frightened him.

Feng Yi responded with a smile and said nothing.

Zhen Zhibing said: "Junior brother, no need to panic; quickly go inform the master."

Qi Zhicheng said: "The master and all our martial uncles are in seclusion, so I have been sent to Xiangyang to urgently summon Senior Brother to act as acting Headmaster."

Zhen Zhibing stared blankly: "His mastery has reached such a level; I wonder what more he needs to practice?"

Qi Zhicheng looked at Feng Yi, Lu Youjiao and the others, pulled him over ten zhang away, Zhao Zhijing's face turned iron‑blue as he said, "What words cannot be spoken face to face!" He also followed up.

Qi Zhicheng said in a low voice: "You two senior brothers are unaware; these past few days I sent my disciples down the mountain, they were ambushed—some seriously injured, some beaten to death; after they were carried back up the mountain, the sect leader questioned the injured, and from their accounts we learned it was Ouyang Feng."

"Western Poison Ouyang Feng!" Zhao Zhijing exclaimed in shock.

Zhen Zhibing, however, remained expressionless: "Go on."

Seeing his calm composure, Qi Zhicheng was genuinely impressed, thinking to himself: "No wonder the master wants him to succeed as sect leader; just this bearing alone is unmatched among the third‑generation disciples."

Feng Yi's inner strength was deep; although he did not want to listen, he still heard it, and felt quite surprised—how could Ouyang Feng come again to cause trouble for the Chongyang Palace?

Then Qi Zhicheng said: "According to the injured disciples, Ouyang Feng wants someone to take him to find Yang Guo, but Yang Guo is not here—how are we supposed to look for him?"

But that madman, if he disagrees, he just strikes people—lightly they are injured, heavily they die the next day.

The master and several uncles wanted to go capture Ouyang Feng, but he appears and disappears unpredictably, leaving no trace to be found.

The master had no choice but to go to the rear mountain to look for Longnv, to see if she had returned, but there was no reply; left with no alternative, he crossed the forbidden zone to the ancient tomb, only to find its entrance sealed by a huge boulder.

Clearly the tomb is uninhabited, yet Ouyang Feng occasionally stirs up trouble; faced with this, the five Daoist masters are helpless, so they forbid disciples from going down the mountain, intending to devote themselves to study and create a powerful martial art to revive the Quanzhen Sect's prestige.

In those days, on Xiao Longnv's birthday, the heterodox of the jianghu gathered on Mount Zhongnan; Darba and Huodu easily broke into the Chongyang Palace, and within a few moves Huodu severely injured Hao Datong; had Guo Jing not arrived in time to aid, the Quanzhen Sect would surely have suffered a great loss.

Even so, the Quanzhen Sect's main seat, the Chongyang Palace, was still burned to rubble by Huodu and his men.

Since the founding patriarch Chongyang Zhenren awed the world, the Quanzhen Sect has always claimed to be the orthodox of martial arts; the Seven Masters of Quanzhen have profound cultivation and indeed have not fallen short of their ancestors' legacy.

Yet at the Heroes' Gathering at Daisheng Pass, Yang Guo, while in Guo Jing's study, without moving hand or foot, easily made Zhao Zhijing look embarrassed; Sun Bu'er, though nearby, could not understand it, as if the Quanzhen Sect's martial arts were utterly useless before the Ancient Tomb Sect.

Moreover, Yang Guo publicly cursed Hao Datong as a shameless villain, a wicked Daoist scoundrel; this blood feud will surely be avenged sooner or later.

Xiao Longnv and Li Mochou fought each other at the Heroes' Convention at Dasheng Pass; their martial arts were peerless—no woman of their generation could match them, and even most men felt ashamed to compare.

Thus, even with only three members, the Ancient Tomb Sect's every one is a top-tier master of the age, its reputation shaking the world.

This shocked the Quanzhen Sect up and down. Adding a madman, Ouyang Feng, who for Yang Guo's sake caused turmoil at Chongyang Palace, leaving even chickens and dogs restless.

Among the Quanzhen Seven Masters, Tan Chuduan was killed by Ouyang Feng in his youth, Ma Yu has since passed away, leaving Liu Chuxuan, Qiu Chuji, Wang Chuyi, Hao Datong, and Sun Bu'er—five elders now advanced in age and waning vigor.

Considering that neither the third nor fourth generation disciples boast outstanding talent, with the Mongols invading from the south and the nation in grave peril, the Mongol Esoteric Sect and Ancient Tomb Sect will later come up the mountain seeking revenge. If the Quanzhen Five Masters were still alive, they could hold them off for a while, but if the great enemy returns in ten years, with foreign threats and domestic troubles converging, the Quanzhen Sect, vaunted as the orthodox lineage of martial arts, would surely suffer utter defeat.

Thus the five decided to retreat into seclusion to study a formidable martial art, in order to preserve the prestige of the orthodox martial lineage, not only to promote the sect but also to safeguard the nation and its people.

Setting aside secular affairs for the moment, they therefore summoned Zhen Zhibing back to the mountain to act as interim headmaster.

Hearing this, Zhen Zhibing gave a bitter smile and asked, 'Master and all my uncles‑master, have they already entered seclusion?'

Qi Zhicheng said, 'They told me last night to go to Xiangyang today, so they probably haven't yet!'

Feng Yi walked over and said, 'Then let's hurry up the mountain; if we disturb them after they've entered seclusion, that would be inconvenient.'

Qi Zhicheng looked at Zhen Zhibing, who nodded.

Qi Zhicheng sped up the mountain, and shortly thereafter four yellow‑capped Daoists rushed down from the mountain, bowed to Zhen Zhibing, and said, 'Chonghe True Person, you have returned.'

Zhen Zhibing's daoist name is Chonghe, but aside from his close disciples, no one usually addresses him that way.

These four Daoists are all third‑generation disciples of the Quanzhen Sect, who have always addressed him as a fellow martial brother; one of them is considerably older than he.

Feeling deeply embarrassed, Zhen Zhibing hastily dismounted to return the salute, saying humbly, 'How can I possibly deserve such address from my four senior brothers?'

The eldest among them, a disciple of Ma Yu, said, 'The five uncles‑master's decree is that upon Chonghe True Person's arrival, even as acting headmaster he shall handle all sect affairs, great and small.'

As they spoke, bright music rang from the mountain, bells and chimes sounded in unison, and Daoists of all ranks filed out from the mountain gate in orderly rows, coming before Zhen Zhibing, bowing deeply and chanting in unison, 'Welcome the headmaster's ceremonial procession.'

Feng Yi witnessed the spectacle and silently clicked his tongue in amazement.

Zhao Zhijing, however, furrowed his brow, feeling resentful, envious, yet also smug: 'Just wait until Zhen Zhibing admits he harbored lust for Xiao Longnv—then we'll see what you lot have to say.'

Zhen Zhibing had recommended Feng Yi; after they exchanged greetings, he pointed to Lu Youjiao and said, 'This is Lu Youjiao, chief of the Beggars' Sect—you all know him.'

Although Lu Youjiao's fame naturally cannot match Feng Yi's renown that shakes the world, the position of Beggars' Sect chief equals that of the Quanzhen Sect's headmaster, so none dare slight him.

The party was escorted up Mount Zhongnan by a throng of Daoists, Zhao Zhijing's face flushing and paling as he silently followed behind. Chongyang Palace lies high on Mount Zhongnan; at dusk, upon reaching its exterior, over five hundred Daoists lined from the main hall to beyond the gate ten zhang out, while bronze bells boomed and drums rumbled, hundreds of Daoists standing reverently bowed.

Seeing this solemn, imposing scene, the hitherto listless Zhen Zhibing could not help but feel his spirits lift.

Flanked by sixteen senior disciples, they proceeded first to the Hall of Three Purities, where a disciple of Ma Yu stepped forward and said, 'Hero Feng, Chief Lu, please wait in the side hall for now.'

They were to conduct the grand ceremony of installing the headmaster, which required kowtowing to the Three Purities and to Wang Zhongyang; since outsiders entering would make the kowtowing improper, and not kowtowing would be unsightly, it was best simply not to let them in.

Feng Yi and Lu Youjiao exchanged a glance, then suddenly heard Zhen Zhibing say, 'Senior brother, my conduct is lacking; I am unworthy to inherit the headmaster's post, betraying its weighty trust—I shall go to my master to beg forgiveness.'

Upon hearing this, the Daoists were greatly astonished and doubtful.

Although appointing Zhen Zhibing as headmaster was the sect's decree, he declared himself unworthy of the position.

Zhao Zhijing's face bore a half‑smile, full of mockery.

Zhen Zhibing said, 'Hero Feng and Chief Lu, you have come to meet Changchun True Person; please rest a moment in the rear hall while I go report to my master.'

Feng Yi nodded and said, 'Very well!'

=9+book_ba

The four Daoists tasked with receiving guests in the sect accompanied Feng Yi, Lu Youjiao, and the Beggars' Sect disciples to the rear hall for tea.

After sipping a few mouthfuls of clear tea in silence for a long while, Lu Youjiao suddenly said, 'Hero Feng, forgive my frankness—your idea is indeed hard to carry out, but we swear by a spit and a nail; I, Lu Youjiao, naturally keep my word.'

Once I have coordinated with Chief Qiu on the plan to slay the enemy's commanders and troops and destroy their supplies, we shall go through water and fire together.

Seeing his solemnness, Feng Yi felt favorably inclined and said, 'I am young and inexperienced; some of what I say may be mistaken, and moreover, we each have our own views—how could they be entirely the same?'

As long as everyone remains united in the great cause of resisting the Mongols, can we discuss the minor points again? I believe we can ultimately achieve unity from top to bottom.

Lu Youjiao, deeply trusted by Hong Qigong and Huang Rong, is no fool; he understood Feng Yi's meaning: 'You have your view, I have mine. Opinions may differ, but let us act in agreement as far as possible.'

How to do it?

Then we'll rely on singing.

Anyway, Feng Yi has always done it that way.

Moreover, that's also the way of the martial world.

At the slightest disagreement, they draw weapons.

Whoever wins holds the ultimate truth!

But then a long laugh came from outside the hall: "Haha, Hero Feng, your straightforward words are admirable, old Daoist!" The voice was vigorous and powerful.

Outside the door, shadows swayed as five white-haired Daoists walked in shoulder to shoulder—Qiu, Liu, Wang, Hao, and Sun, the Five Masters of Quanzhen—behind them followed Zhen Zhibing, Zhao Zhijing, Qi Zhicheng, and other third-generation disciples.

Feng Yi, Lu Youjiao, and the others realized the speaker was Qiu Chuji; hearing his voice, they all rose, and both sides clasped hands in greeting.

Qiu Chuji raised his white brows and laughed heartily: "Hero Feng, I'm not just praising you—your martial skill is indeed superb, but this penetrating insight and your persevering resolve earn my admiration even more!"

Feng Yi heard this, his face showing no joy, only a faint bitter smile: "Changchun True Person, you overpraise me."

How could he fail to hear that this was saying he talks big but uses fists to make his point?

Lu Youjiao laughed heartily: "The old beggar comes uninvited; please don't take offense, masters."

Feng Yi and the others did not conceal that they had killed Zhou Botong's disciple Yelü Qi and released Yelü Yan; as the Beggar Sect's chief, well-informed, he already knew of this, fearing that if the two sides clashed and the situation was mishandled, it might erupt into a major martial-arts brawl, so he hastily changed the subject.

"Not at all!" the Quanzhen disciples said in unison: "Sect Leader Lu, you're too polite!"

Liu Chuxuan smiled: "You've come far and are weary from the journey; why not rest tonight and discuss tomorrow?"

Feng Yi, however, said: "Everyone's time is precious; let's decide early and speak early!"

Sun Bu'er said coldly: "I don't know what brings you here; what advice do you have?"

Feng Yi said: "One reason is public, the other private."

Sun Bu'er said: "I wish to hear the details."

Feng Yi said: "First, I want your sect to support and cooperate with my plan, just like the Beggar Sect; second, I killed Zhou Botong's old disciple and have come to give your sect an explanation!"

All the Quanzhen Daoists changed countenance.

Qiu Chuji, Sun Bu'er, and the others, upon hearing Qi Zhicheng report that the Beggar Sect chief Feng Yi had arrived, ended their retreat; they happened to meet Zhen Zhibing and Zhao Zhijing, who had already told them about this.

Others were not so bothered, but Sun Bu'er's anger rose; she shouted loudly: "Fine, you're so overbearing—you've come to threaten my Quanzhen Sect—then let's fight!"

Although she is a Daoist practitioner, her breadth of mind falls far short of Qiu Chuji, Wang Chuyi, and others. Yang Guo, in front of Guo Jing, reversed right and wrong, blamed all the sect's transgressions on Quanzhen and Guo Jing, and in her presence humiliated Zhao Zhijing; furthermore, Ouyang Feng, a great enemy of the sect, had several disciples killed or injured by Yang Guo.

This matter remains unresolved, yet Feng Yi again killed a junior disciple and swaggered to their door, demanding obedience—treating Quanzhen as nothing, utterly intolerable!

Feng Yi naturally knew the Daoist nun harbored resentment; facing their situation, if it were him, he'd feel the same, so he naturally paid no heed.

Lu Youjiao thought: "If this happened on an ordinary day, we should sort out right and wrong, but today's gathering is of utmost importance—how could we let private affairs delay it?" He thus wanted to mediate.

But Qiu Chuji waved his hand and said: "Although we've never met Yelü Qi, as a disciple of our martial uncle, he naturally belongs to our Quanzhen sect.

If you had solid proof he was a Mongol spy, that would be one thing, but to kill him on mere suspicion is utterly wrong!

Yet although we are Daoists, in the jianghu, disagreements often lead to swords and spears; since you dare come to Mount Zhongnan to give us an explanation, you show the bearing of a true man, so old Daoist will not stand on ceremony!"

With a swish, he drew Zhen Zhibing's waist sword, left hand forming a sword finger; the blade immediately hummed, showing deep inner strength, and he said: "Qiu Chuji wishes to learn a sword technique from you!"

Qiu Chuji, though a Daoist, has a fiery temperament and heroic spirit beyond compare.

After all, he too once wandered the streets with a price on his head, so to him, Feng Yi's killing of Yelü Qi hardly stirred him.

For though he never met Yelü Qi, he had seen Yelü Chucai in Genghis Khan's court—certainly a great talent and pillar of the state—but since he served the Mongols, in Feng Yi's words: "His hero is my foe."

How could he not be killed?

This reasoning, none can get wrong!

Therefore, since Feng Yi had already killed Yelü Zhu, Yelü Qi naturally must die too; in the feud between the two clans, this is the way to eliminate future trouble!

The only hindrance is that Yelü Qi took Zhou Botong as his master; as the sect leader of Quanzhen, he cannot but make a show of it.

"Refreshing!" Feng Yi laughed: "To hear that Daoist Qiu is Quanzhen's foremost master and to receive his instruction is a fortune of three lifetimes!"

Seeing Qiu Chuji assume his stance, his every gesture floating like an immortal, truly displaying a grandmaster's bearing, he gestured respectfully, and Qi Zhicheng handed him a sword.

"Haha……"

In Qiu Chuji's long laugh, his feet shifted slightly; his sword flashed forth, cold light scattering like falling stars—this is the Quanzhen supreme sword art "One Sword Transforms into the Three Purities."

Each move can become three forms, each form with many variations; it is Quanzhen's highest sword art—ordinary disciples managing to produce "Two Purities" is already difficult.

Among the Quanzhen Seven Masters, Qiu Chuji has always been foremost in martial skill; as he thrust, Feng Yi saw before him a dazzling blur of swordlight, unable to tell which blade was real and which feint.

Quanzhen disciples rarely see Qiu Chuji wield a sword in practice, and all envy him.

Feng Yi's sword gave a shake, a swish, and already deflected Qiu Chuji's blade; Qiu Chuji knew Feng Yi's inner power was profound, could not meet it head‑on, so he quickly circulated internal energy, shaking the sword—cold light flickered, then a loud hum arose, his body drew in, the sword veered to the outer edge, and the blade swept toward Feng Yi's forearm.

He had made those two moves swift and precise, yet who would have thought Feng Yi's sword would tap straight at his wrist?

Seeing his thrust miss and the blade's edge about to strike himself, Qiu Chuji hastily withdrew his hand, sank, and thrust his sword toward Feng Yi's right leg.

Feng Yi employed the move "Like Sealing, Like Closing"; his sword shuddered, conjuring countless blades of light that surged toward Qiu Chuji wave after wave.

This move was Liu Chengfeng's Taiji Sword of years past; now Feng Yi's martial art has reached the sublime, unbound by forms—he picks up any technique and uses it.

Everyone secretly marveled: "Having heard that Feng Yi's internal energy, fist method, and blade technique are each unrivaled in the world, I never expected his swordsmanship to be so superb as well."

In an instant, sword qi filled the air, threads tight as silk; Qiu Chuji's martial skill stood above his peers, his sword art refined over decades, pure to the utmost—seeing Feng Yi's exquisite sword moves, he could not help but admire, his body swiftly turning as he executed "Stars Shift, Battle Turns."

This move employs the "Sticky" character formula, yet hides countless variations; a slight misstep will surely spray blood three feet.

With a clang, the swords met; Qiu Chuji had intended to draw his blade and point its tip at Feng Yi's seven vital chest points, but suddenly a surge of inner energy like lightning pierced his meridians, his arm went numb, and the sword began to hum.

Qiu Chuji gave a muffled groan, skimmed the ground leaping several zhang, and repeatedly circulated his internal energy to dispel that strange force.

Before he could catch his breath, Feng Yi swayed and swung his sword; Qiu Chuji instantly felt a strong force rushing at him, and it was none other than the Quanzhen technique "Frost Over a Thousand Miles."

Qiu Chuji could not help laughing: "Hero Feng, the Quanzhen sword art's subtle variations—I too am truly impressed." He turned his body, daring not to meet it head‑on.

Feng Yi smiled: "The Quanzhen sword art's subtle variations—I too am truly impressed."

Qiu Chuji understood his intent, gave a wry smile, then focused and re‑engaged; each move faster than the last, each making the wind howl like tigers, Feng Yi's whole body enveloped in swordlight, yet his footwork light as an immortal—truly the bearing of a transcendent sage, graceful and effortless, like a deity descending to earth.

Yet Feng Yi stood deep and steady as a mountain, calm and composed, unlike Qiu Chuji's wandering combat; his sword waved freely, a slight wrist shake producing blossoms that turned into a sky‑filling sword shadow.

His sword technique was wondrous and peerless, occasionally hiding several Quanzhen sword forms within; the Quanzhen Daoists watched, astonished and angry.

After exchanging a hundred and one moves, a rip sounded as Qiu Chuji's sword swept Feng Yi's garment corner; the fierce sword wind tore off a large piece of his clothing.

The Quanzhen Daoists shouted in triumph, but before their cheers faded, Feng Yi flashed like a whirlwind; with the move "Long River Setting Sun," his sword formed a ring that encircled Qiu Chuji's blade, while Qiu Chuji's left palm thrust out fiercely, harsh and exceedingly rigid.

Yet Feng Yi did not dodge or evade; his sword shot straight like an arrow, aimed at Qiu Chuji's throat.

The Quanzhen Daoists cried out in unison, "Sect leader……" about to rush forward, but Feng Yi's sword was so swift that before the words finished, its tip already pressed against Qiu Chuji's throat, and Qiu Chuji struck a palm into Feng Yi's chest.

Feng Yi said: "Excellent martial arts! After I debuted, this is the first time someone has cut my clothes! The Quanzhen Sect claims to be the orthodox martial arts of the world, and indeed its reputation is well deserved. I admire it, I admire it!"

While he was speaking, his figure flashed sideways over three zhang away, he passed the sword to Qi Zhicheng's hand, then returned to his original spot.

Even though the Quanzhen Daoists knew Feng Yi's martial arts were high, and after his fierce battle with Guo Jing earned him the reputation of being number one under heaven, they never expected him to be so formidable—without mentioning that he took a palm from Qiu Chuji and yet appeared unaffected, revealing his deep internal strength.

Just now his movement was strange like a snake, advancing and retreating like lightning—something I have never seen in my life; if he had the mind to kill anyone on the field, it would truly be hard to oppose him.

Now only five of the Seven Masters of Quanzhen remain; even if we added two third-generation disciples, they would probably not be a match!

Qiu Chuji let out a long sigh, his expression especially bitter, and said lightly: "You are letting the old Taoist have his way; the old Taoist certainly knows that!

Otherwise, how could I have lasted three moves? The reputation of the orthodox martial arts that my forefather established would then have ended in our hands!"

Feng Yi smiled slightly and said: "Daoist Master Qiu, you are being polite.

It's not that I, Feng Yi, am boasting, but anyone under heaven who can withstand one of my moves is already a first-rate master, let alone three.

Your sect did not employ Quanzhen's supreme martial art, the Heavenly Gang Big Dipper Formation, so the victory does not count.

Now, in our one-on-one duel, being able to exchange over a hundred moves with me, not only tearing my clothes and striking me with a palm, which made my blood boil, this act certainly does not harm your sect's reputation.

Furthermore, I believe your sect being hailed as the orthodox martial arts of the world is not only because Patriarch Chongyang's martial arts are number one under heaven, but also because he faced aggression and dared to draw his sword in resistance, a noble sentiment.

If it were merely brute strength, like me, it would only be the courage of a common man—what worth is there?"

(End of chapter)