Chapter 67

Since the founding of the Song dynasty, foreign invasions have never ceased; the Western Xia, Liao, and Jin have all come and gone. Only the recently risen Mongols remain, their military strength vigorous.

As the Mongol army began to invade the Central Plains, a batch of patriotic heroes and great champions emerged.

Among them, the outstanding ones were Guo Jing and Huang Rong, the beloved disciples of the "Jiuzhi Shen Gai" Hong Qigong.

The two blocked the Mongol army led by Tolui at Qingzhou. (Note: In the three-volume edition of The Legend of the Condor Heroes, it was Xiangyang; the revised edition changed it to Qingzhou because, in the actual historical period, the Mongols had not yet reached Xiangyang, so it was changed.) At that time, Guo Jing was in his early twenties and Huang Rong was under twenty. They rode horses, holding spears, stood before the drawbridge over the moat, faced the Mongol army bristling with swords and spears, did not retreat in the slightest, a scene that made people never forget and widely celebrated.

From then on, the jianghu no longer had the "Young Hero Guo, Little Seductress"; only the "Great Hero Guo, Heroine Huang" remained.

Even though the two have secluded themselves on Peach Blossom Island for over ten years, their fame in the jianghu has not diminished but increased; especially, Guo Jing, a few years ago, went to Chongyang Palace, shattered the Heavenly Gang Big Dipper Formation, and with a single hand suppressed the Mongol prince Huo Du who led a host of demons and evil spirits invading Zhongnan Mountain, thus shaking the world.

Time flowed, and several years passed in a blink.

Chang'an City.

Ever-Victorious Gambling House.

"Two three three, small!"

The house swept away all the money bet on "big", while those who had bet on "big" sighed in disappointment.

A young man took a stack of banknotes, patted them in his hand, and laughed, "Today my luck is good; I'm going to Flower-Full Pavilion to have a good time, everyone continue!"

The gamblers all said, "Master Feng, your luck is strong; come play a few more hands!"

Yeah!! I still want to place two more bets with Master Feng.

That Master Feng, however, silently slipped the banknotes into his bosom, stood up, took the crutch from the side of the table, propped himself to the left with it—tap, tap, tap—and headed out of the gambling house.

Many people with worried, grim faces cast envious glances at him, for this Young Master Feng had returned loaded with winnings from the "Ever-Victorious Gambling House" for three straight days.

But the crowd also felt that heaven was fair, after all, he walked with a crutch under his arm — he was disabled!

"Come, come, come, place your bets!"

The crowd once again began the frenzied business that drove them crazy.

On the second floor, a long-bearded old man watched Feng Yi's back, his brows almost knotted into the shape of the character for 'river'; after three days, three thousand taels were gone — how could he not feel anguish! A scar‑faced man sidled up, snarling, "Boss, do you want…!" As he said this, he drew a finger across his own throat.

The long-bearded old man sighed: "Ah, Wang Hu, remember, in the jianghu making a living, skill comes second; the most important thing is just two words."

"What?"

"Know the times!"

"Know the times?" the scar-faced man said, somewhat bewildered.

Look at this young man placing bets — when has there ever been a ripple in his eyes? Never mind, you wouldn't understand even if I told you! In short, remember this: on the jianghu, monks, daoists, women, and the disabled — unless absolutely necessary, do not offend them; let's just consider it spending money to ward off disaster!

That Young Master Feng left the gambling house as dusk approached. Watching the pedestrians crisscross the street and carriages bustling to and fro, it was exceedingly lively.

At this time, the Jin state had already been destroyed by the Mongols; north of the Yellow River, everything belonged to the Mongols. Chang'an, a major northwestern stronghold, long known as the "ancient capital," remained densely populated with scholars and commoners, thronged with people, and crowded with merchants.

Young Master Feng beheld the bustling market and thought to himself, "This is truly the human world's fireworks atmosphere; with this, even a broken leg is worth it."

Indeed, this Young Master Feng is Feng Yi.

One day in the Liancheng world, a thought suddenly appeared in his mind: 【Is the host to transmigrate to other planes? 1. Soul transmigration, 2. Body transmigration】

Feng Yi naturally did not want to stay in the Liancheng world any longer — it was too dangerous, and he also did not know what he had done; the system could let him transmigrate, but he did not want to ponder something beyond his comprehension.

But regarding soul transmigration and body transmigration, he could understand those. Thinking that upon arriving in the Liancheng world, this body felt like his own, with no sense of incongruity, and having painstakingly acquired a pure and thick internal force, his martial arts were as easy as moving his arms, he naturally chose body transmigration.

But who would have thought that a flash of white light would plunge him into darkness; when he opened his eyes again, he felt the wind covering his mouth and nose, making it impossible to breathe.

Even though his martial arts cultivation had reached the supernatural and saintly level, this sight scared him out of his wits.

It turned out he discovered he was falling from a height of ten thousand zhang. While cursing the system for screwing him over, his internal qi flowed, and he tried to exert force to leap upward, but in midair there was nothing to push against; he was not a bird, so how could he have the ability to leap up?

He felt the wind roaring past his ears; fortunately, this was a cliff on a high mountain. Seeing what lay ahead, he hastily drew the long sword on his back and, with both hands, tried to thrust it into the rock face.

But the force of his descent was too great; the sword that could clash with a blood saber without breaking snapped into several pieces, and he himself was flung away by the recoil, his arms nearly shattered by the tremendous force; even so, his arms felt as if they no longer belonged to him.

However, this buffer somewhat lessened the impact, and he saw the ground looming large before his eyes; he knew his life hung by a thread, and if he hit the ground directly, he would surely be smashed to pieces.

But seeing an old tree protruding from the cliff face, he immediately gathered a breath of true qi, traced an arc in the air, and lunged toward it. He had wanted to draw the blood dagger at his waist to chop the tree, but his arms were numb and unresponsive; he dared not take the risk, so he merely extended his right foot to push off.

With a thud, he landed on that old tree; with a crack, the thick trunk was snapped under his foot.

But relying on that point, his Divine Illumination Skill activated, instantly using the rebound force; he kicked upward with his left foot, somersaulting several times in midair, thereby dissipating the falling force and landing on the ground.

Yet the force of his fall from ten thousand zhang was incredibly fierce; he felt a sudden, intense pain in his right leg.

It turned out that from just that point, the bone in his right leg had already been broken.

Although Feng Yi's leg was broken, his mind remained clear; he truly felt full of pain and annoyance.

This is really a trap!

If not for his superb martial arts, transmigrating would have meant immediate death!

Had he known body transmigration was this dangerous, he would never have done it, no matter what! Damn it, the system's appearance makes life and death unpredictable! Unable to vent his frustration at the system's unreliability, Feng Yi could only set his leg himself, tear off his clothes to bind it, then rise, resolved to leave the mountain first and talk later.

He chopped a tree trunk, made a simple crutch, and, limping, left the mountain; upon encountering a mountain dweller, he finally learned.

The mountain that had saved his life was Mount Hua.

Not bad!

Feng Yi thought this had saved him.

If he had not fallen onto the cliff but into a place with nothing to hold on to, his fall would have turned him into a pile of flesh with certainty.

What Divine Illumination Skill, what Black Silkworm Garb — all useless,

Mount Hua is not far from Chang'an, so Feng Yi entered the city; besides nursing his wounds, he also wanted to enjoy some long-missed pleasure and relieve his pent-up feelings.

Thus, the famous brothels of Chang'an welcomed a lame young master, who each day ordered several pretty girls to dance and sing for him, and the floral wine was delicious to drink.

But drinking floral wine was expensive; Feng Yi had lost a leg and did not want to rob rich households or loot government offices, disturbing the hard-won peace. So he turned his attention to the gambling house.

So he went to gamble on dice.

Dice have six faces, each with different pips, but when each face lands, the sound differs slightly; though extremely subtle, to the ears of a martial artist with profound internal energy, it can be distinguished.

Such a person, even in darkness, can tell from the sound of a hidden weapon incoming its direction, position, force, and type.

Some well-versed, broad-minded masters can even, upon hearing, know the number of the opponent's martial arts techniques and their sect.

Feng Yi still lacks this insight now, but hearing a few dice and knowing the points is extremely easy! So winning and losing are under his control; each time he goes to the casino and wins a thousand taels, he goes to a brothel to spend.

He indeed spent several days living a debauched life of drunken stupor.

Here, no one knows his background, and no one constantly schemes for his treasures; his mind can finally relax! Feng Yi gazes at the street, lost in thought. Although this place is prosperous, unseen areas show another picture: some famished people put up signs to sell themselves, selling children and wives is also common.

Only because of the turbulent times, how could there be complete tranquility and harmony?

Feng Yi wins a thousand taels of silver each day from the casino, not all spent on flower wine; when night falls and people are quiet, those poor people will have some extra silver in their hands; overjoyed, they weep and thank the Three Pure Ones ancestors, Guanyin Bodhisattva, and the Tathagata Buddha.

But Feng Yi knows that relying on his own strength, this situation cannot be fundamentally changed; he can only wait until his injuries heal, then think of ways to do what he can.

Feng Yi pondered leisurely, when suddenly he saw passersby pointing and staring, or stopping to look.

Feng Yi turned his head and saw a young Daoist nun wearing an apricot-yellow robe walking along the street.

She carries a long sword on her back; the red silk tassel on the hilt flutters in the wind; her steps are light, showing she knows martial arts; her skin is fair, her features beautiful, indeed she is a beauty.

Feng Yi couldn't help muttering: "With the fame of Flower Full Pavilion, there isn't a single courtesan who has half her beauty; otherwise I would have already indulged, why would I be sharpening my spear every day for nothing!"

He had been flirting and trading barbs with the brothel courtesans these past days, his talk was smooth; unexpectedly, as soon as his words fell, the little Daoist nun suddenly turned her head to look, her gaze extremely sharp, sweeping across Feng Yi's face.

Feng Yi and that Daoist nun were more than five zhang apart; he muttered softly, which under normal circumstances nobody could hear, yet this Daoist nun could turn her head toward the sound—her internal energy cultivation is truly not bad.

Feng Yi clearly knew he was rude first, but he didn't expect them to actually hear it; given his thick skin, he still felt a bit hot in the face, and couldn't help thinking: 'This Daoist nun is young, yet her hearing is so sharp! Even the disciples and grand-disciples of Sun Bu'er have such ability; the Quanzhen Sect truly lives up to its reputation!'

Feng Yi had been in Chang'an for a few days and had already heard of the fame of Guo Jing, Huang Rong, and the Quanzhen Sect; it's not hard to guess which world this is.

Because Chang'an is close to Mount Zhongnan, Daoists and Daoist nuns are common; it's hard to tell which sect a Daoist belongs to, but Daoist nuns belong only to one school: the 'Pure and Quiet Hermit' Sun Bu'er.

Seeing Feng Yi in a single green robe, dignified and imposing, with a proper scholar's square cap on his head, his whole bearing neat and capable; if not for the crutch under his arm, one wouldn't notice his disability.

She was proud of her beauty; any man seeing her would stare dumbfounded for a while; this was not surprising to her, but rather gave her a sense of pride; she immediately snorted and turned her head to continue forward.

Of course, he also didn't understand the meaning of Feng Yi's last words; otherwise, he would surely have drawn his sword and attacked.

Feng Yi watched the Daoist nun's back, pondering to himself; an old man nearby also leisurely said: 'In Chang'an City, I've seen many Daoist nuns, but one this beautiful is the first time I've seen; you youngster, you owe it to the blessings of the Quanzhen Sect!'

Feng Yi hearing this, his eyes showed contemplation; after a brief pause, he tapped his crutch lightly and pursued the Daoist nun. The Daoist nun ran all the way until she stopped in front of a manor. Looking up, she saw the gate inscribed with 'Li Fu'. She immediately leapt onto the gate tower and shouted loudly: 'Li Shouyi, come out to die!'

Her voice was clear and ringing; the blood-red sword swished in the wind, making an impressive sight.

Not only the stall vendors at the gate heard it, but passersby on the distant street also turned their heads to look.

In a moment, many people gathered in twos and threes before the Li manor gate; Feng Yi directly went to a roadside tea stall to watch the excitement.

After a while of silence, a 'hehe' laugh was heard; the Daoist nun leapt down to the gate; from the Li manor gate walked out a thin middle-aged man holding a single blade; those who recognized him knew this was Li Shouyi.

Li Shouyi looked at the Daoist nun and said loudly: 'I am Li Shouyi; what grudge do you, fairy, have with me that you seek my life?'

The Daoist nun smiled faintly and said: 'I don't know; I only know my master ordered me to kill you, so you must die!'

These few words were spoken lightly and casually, without haste or delay, yet they showed not even a bit of regard for the opponent.

Li Shouyi suddenly gaped, his whole body trembling, pointing at the Daoist nun with a quivering voice: 'You... you... your master is the Scarlet Fairy!' He looked left and right, full of panic.

The little Daoist nun twisted the corner of her mouth, smiling: 'You guessed it right; hurry up and kill yourself, then I'll save myself some effort.'

Her such arrogance is tantamount to admitting her identity.

The surroundings were also in an uproar.

The Scarlet Fairy Li Mochou is currently the most prominent figure in the martial world; she is ruthless and vicious, often wiping out entire families at the drop of a hat.

Moreover, she differs greatly from ordinary martial artists; in the past, on the Yuan River she destroyed sixty-three cargo shops and boats in succession, merely because their signs bore the character 'Yuan'; also an old boxer surnamed He was exterminated, his whole family killed, just because of his surname! Although Li Mochou's infamy wasn't big in Chang'an originally, a few years ago she injured the Lu family of Lu Zhuangding and his wife in Jiaxing, Jiangnan, as well as several disciples of the One Lamp Grand Master like Wu Santong, then fled to Shanxi, and in northern Jin she injured several more heroes.

Finally provoking public outrage, the local martial arts leaders issued a grand call to heroes, inviting fellow practitioners to rise up and attack.

The Quanzhen Sect, which bears the reputation of orthodox martial arts under heaven, also received the hero's call; at that time Ma Yu and Qiu Chuji etc. discussed and said that although Li Mochou had committed many evils, her ancestral master ultimately shares deep origins with the founder Wang Chongyang; it would be best to mediate from within and give her a path to reform. Accordingly, they sent Liu Chuxuan and Sun Bu'er together northward.

Who would have expected Li Mochou's movements to be mysterious, appearing and disappearing; Liu and Sun found themselves unable to do anything to her, and instead ended up injuring several more heroes from southern and northern Jin.

Later Qiu Chuji and Wang Chuyi, together with ten disciples, went again to reinforce. Li Mochou, knowing she alone could not withstand many experts, provoked them with words and made an agreement with the Qiu and Wang group to duel one by one.

The first day's match was Sun Bu'er. Li Mochou secretly struck with a poisonous ice soul silver needle, wounding her; then she personally went to her door, gave the antidote, forcing Qiu Chuji and others to accept it.

Thus, the Quanzhen disciples considered they had received her favor; according to the rules, they could no longer be her enemies.

The Quanzhen disciples looked at each other with bitter smiles, returning in defeat.

Just this one incident was enough to let Li Mochou bask in the limelight.

After all, the current martial arts world's senior eccentrics like the 'Old Urchin' (East Heretic, West Poison, South Emperor, North Beggar) are hidden, the Guo Jing couple of Peach Blossom Island lives in seclusion, and the Quanzhen disciples are already the most prominent figures of contemporary martial arts.

Moreover, the ancestral home of the Quanzhen Sect is also on Mount Zhongnan, not far from Chang'an; these matters have long been spread and known by all.

And the disciple of the Scarlet Fairy Li Mochou is now in Chang'an; that female demon is surely not far away.

Who knows who will suffer next.

Li Shouyi, shocked, finally caught his breath, held his single blade sideways, and laughed loudly: 'Li Mochou, this demon who slaughters innocents indiscriminately, deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces.'

I merely cursed her with one phrase 'shameless', and she sent you to take my life; hehe, I, Li, am untalented, but I will learn her peerless martial art!

The Daoist nun slightly tilted her body, scornfully said: 'Don't overestimate yourself, make your move!'

Li Shouyi, furious beyond restraint, swung his blade to chop her shoulder; who would have thought she lightly dodged, and his blade cut nothing but air.

His blade flowed in continuous moves, the single blade swift and fierce; yet the Daoist nun's agile body, with yellow shadows and red silk flashing, left Li Shouyi's successive strikes not even touching her clothing.

Feng Yi watched, his heart amazed, thinking: 'A mere Hong Lingbo, unknown in the original plot, actually possesses such superb lightness skill! As for Li Mochou and Xiao Longnv, one can imagine; no wonder the Lightness skill of the Ancient Tomb School is renowned as unmatched under heaven!'

Thinking, he lightly stroked his chin, beginning to devise a plan.

Since Feng Yi knows this Daoist nun is a disciple of Li Mochou, how could he not know that this little Daoist nun must be her disciple Hong Lingbo?

Originally, Lin Chaoying, in order to surpass Wang Chongyang, exhausted her thoughts, pondering day and night. But Wang Chongyang was a grand master of martial arts; at that time the world was invincible, and his sword debate at Mount Hua placed him among the five absolutes; to defeat him even by a single move or half a move was truly difficult.

Therefore Lin Chaoying took a separate martial arts path, causing the Ancient Tomb School's martial arts to become a specialty, namely lightness and agility.

After disciples enter the school, they begin by catching sparrows, which is also where the Ancient Tomb School's lightness skill essence lies; the marvel of the Ancient Tomb School's martial arts, passed down to later generations, allowed Li Mochou, a mere weak woman, to rely on her unfathomable palm technique and the wonderful whisk techniques derived from swordsmanship, to shock the jianghu, making heroes hear her name and lose courage.

This Hong Lingbo's cultivation is indeed far insufficient, yet in the jianghu many famous fighters are not her match; this Li Shouyi, although he knows some martial arts, could hardly touch her body, light as a swallow.

Li Shouyi slashed dozens of times in a flash, achieving nothing; instead he was dazzled by her whirling yellow shadow and red silk, feeling anxious; suddenly he heard Hong Lingbo give a crisp shout: 'With just this little skill, you dare to comment on my master!'

Then one saw Hong Lingbo draw her sword in hand and thrust straight at Li Shouyi's chest.

Li Shouyi, seeing the green light flash, hastily withdrew his blade and traced a circle to protect his upper body, seizing the opportunity to launch a countermove.

Hong Lingbo's sword shifted from guard to attack, attack to guard in an instant; her swordplay was extremely fierce, with a few clangs and sparks flying. Li Shouyi struggled to keep up, the two exchanged rapid moves, and after about ten exchanges, Hong Lingbo suddenly shouted: "Strike!"

A blade of green light swept past the knife circle, drawing a bright arc that thrust toward Li Shouyi's lower abdomen.

Li Shouyi felt a chill, his blade too late to block; he leapt back with all his might, but Hong Lingbo's movement was swift, and he closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

Suddenly a strong gust swept in from the side with a clang; an "ah" cry was heard—it was the Daoist nun. Opening his eyes, he saw the nun stagger back; everyone drew a breath and stared.

In the fight between Li Shouyi and the Daoist nun, a green-clad man leaning on a cane had joined, unnoticed by anyone as to when he arrived.

But Li Shouyi knew he had escaped disembowelment thanks to this person, and hadn't yet had a chance to thank him.

He saw the Daoist nun widen her eyes in confusion and say, "It's you!"

Feng Yi said, "It's me."

Hong Lingbo stared for a moment, a blush rising on her pretty face, and snapped, "I came by my master's order to kill him—who are you, meddling in my affairs?"

"Not meddling!" Feng Yi paused, then said, "I'm looking for your master."

Hong Lingbo pressed her lips, gave a light smile, and sighed, "I see your martial arts aren't weak, but you've ruined my plans today; meeting my master, do you truly not wish to live?"

Seeing Feng Yi's decent martial arts, his handsome looks, and his recognition of her beauty, she couldn't help but feel a fondness.

Feng Yi smiled faintly: "Although your master has some reputation, if she wants to kill me, there's likely only one possibility."

Hong Lingbo couldn't help but snicker at his words, saying, "Go on, then—what possibility?" Her voice was coquettish, sweet and soft.

Feng Yi noticed her fair, moist skin, flushed cheeks, watery eyes, and her alluring manner of speech, and immediately laughed, "That's not very pleasant to hear; it can be understood but not spoken."

Hong Lingbo saw his strange expression, recalled his earlier muttering—surely nothing good—and instantly flared her eyebrows, shook her sword, and thrust six consecutive strikes at Feng Yi.

Not knowing his background and merely probing, Hong Lingbo found Feng Yi calm and unconcerned, not even looking at him as he casually swung his cane six times, locking her sword down completely.

Hong Lingbo saw him deflect her lightning-fast fierce attacks with ease, as if every move of hers was anticipated, and she was startled, thinking to herself, "I've followed my master and met many famous figures; even if I don't know them, I've heard of them—where did this young crippled expert come from?"

She suddenly flipped backward in a tumble, landing lightly, stared at Feng Yi, and with sword in hand bowed, saying, "I misjudged you; if you wish to settle a grudge, I'm no match, but please give me a chance so I can report to my master."

Feng Yi chuckled, looked around, and said, "I've heard the Scarlet Silk Fairy has slain countless; I, Feng Yi, would like to learn a few moves—please, do not withhold your instruction."

Hong Lingbo saw his odd speech, truly bewildered, and chuckled, "So you're Feng Yi; my master isn't here—who are you talking to?"

Feng Yi well knew that in the original plot, Hong Lingbo and Li Mochou entered the ancient tomb one after another, forcing Xiao Longnv and Yang Guo to find no refuge, and consequently they discovered Wang Zhongyang's martial arts manual left behind.

Although Yang Guo and Xiao Longnv gained martial arts benefits, Xiao Longnv also lost a woman's most precious thing.

Upon thinking this, Feng Yi had made up his mind and called out, "Fairy, since you won't show your face, I won't press you—but I'll have your disciple serve as my maid for a few days first!"

Saying this, his body swayed; he lifted his left hand, the cane already touching Hong Lingbo's chest, his right hand grabbed her back, he tapped the cane lightly on the ground, and like a bird he soared onto the roof, his body flickering and vanishing from sight.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded.

Li Shouyi had not expected to survive this way; wondering what sort of immortal Feng Yi was, he was just feeling glad when a silver light flashed, and he cried "Ah ya!" and fell to the ground.

Someone stepped forward to look, and Li Shouyi's face instantly turned black, his breath gone.

A silver needle had pierced his chest; such a domineering poison needle drew an exclamation: "Ice Soul Silver Needle!"

"Li Mochou is indeed here!"

Everyone was terrified, their souls unsettled, looking left and right, yet seeing nothing and not knowing where the poison needle came from.

Only then did everyone understand why Li Mochou's reputation is so great.

First, this hidden weapon is too tiny to be discerned by the naked eye.

Second, her disciple's lightness martial arts and swordsmanship are already like this, indicating her ability.

Moreover, the Ice Soul Silver Needle's poison is so fierce and domineering that it is truly hard to block or defend against.

(End of chapter)