Chapter 2: Dragon Lady, Take the Blame

In the Quanzhen Sect, Zhen Zhibing was the foremost third-generation disciple—the future abbot—and this very matter stirred resentment in Zhao Zhijing, who schemed relentlessly to find fault with Zhen Zhibing. Zhen Zhibing paced through the woods, muttering the name “Xiaolongnu,” and Zhao Zhijing knew.

On Xiaolongnu’s twentieth birthday, Zhen Zhibing specially bought a gift and placed it before the Ancient Tomb; the gift note was also in Zhao Zhijing’s possession.

Thus, tonight, when Zhen Zhibing seized the chance to insult Xiaolongnu, Zhao Zhijing watched from the shadows.

Naturally, Zhao Zhijing saw clearly how Gu Qing killed Zhen Zhibing.

Of Zhen Zhibing’s death, Zhao Zhijing’s verdict was: Good riddance!

With Zhen Zhibing dead, Zhao Zhijing could ascend to power—and now, Zhao Zhijing was even grateful to Gu Qing.

When Gu Qing called out, Zhao Zhijing realized his position was exposed, yet he did not step forward to confront Gu Qing; instead, he turned and activated the Golden Goose Technique to flee.

“Run?”

Gu Qing’s figure drifted.

The Ancient Tomb Sect’s lightness skill was the finest in the Wu Lin, but its brilliance lay in agile dodging and twisting; for swift travel across mountains and open fields, the Quanzhen Sect’s Golden Goose Technique remained more practical and efficient.

Now, Gu Qing pursued him using the Golden Goose Technique.

As Zhao Zhijing ran, he suddenly turned his head—Gu Qing was already within five zhang. He took a few more steps, panic rising; when he turned again, Gu Qing was within three zhang. Instantly, he drew his sword, whirling it in a circle. Beneath the moonlight, the long blade gleamed, executing “White Clouds Emerging from the Valley”—its motion misty, hazy, soft as cotton, wool—protecting his vital points while pressing forward with the blade.

He was the most formidable warrior among the Zhi-generation disciples of Quanzhen; his sudden strike was precise, vivid, perfectly blending illusion and reality.

Gu Qing arrived close, tapped his toe, and at the moment the blade hovered a foot from his body, he shifted left-forward, slashing out a palm strike—the Quanzhen Sect’s Frost-Stepping Ice-Breaking Palm, launched through the air!

Internal energy and palm techniques held immense weight in Jin’s martial arts.

Yang Guo, who understood the theory that “no sword surpasses the swordless,” trained for over a decade to master the Melancholy Dissolving Palm.

Linghu Chong, who cultivated the Nine Swords of Dugu, needed twenty years of arduous practice to unleash the full power of the Palm-Breaking Form against palm masters.

Now, as Gu Qing’s palm struck, Zhao Zhijing felt his breath choke—he knew the force was extraordinary. There was no time to draw back his sword; besides, the blade, though nimble, was helpless against the overwhelming, peerless palm force. With no choice, he countered with the very same Frost-Stepping Ice-Breaking Palm, neutralizing Gu Qing’s power.

With that single palm strike, Zhao Zhijing lost the initiative. Gu Qing spun in, and the Heavenly Net Formation descended upon him.

The Ancient Tomb Sect’s Heavenly Net Formation was strange and elegant, each movement swift and precise. Though Gu Qing lacked the Jade Maiden Heart Scripture’s internal energy to complement it, in that instant, his hands multiplied like a hundred, trapping Zhao Zhijing as if caught in a net.

Quanzhen’s Frost-Stepping Ice-Breaking Palm was a desperate technique—each strike had to land solidly. The Heavenly Net Formation, by contrast, was an elegant art of avoiding strength and striking weakness. In their clash, Gu Qing dodged and advanced with perfect ease, while Zhao Zhijing, though brimming with true force, could not disperse the net.

Xiaolongnu lay on the ground. Though she could not move or turn her head, she listened to the battle—Zhao Zhijing’s roar thundered, and she knew Gu Qing now held the upper hand.

The Ancient Tomb Sect’s Heavenly Net Formation did not win by palm power, but by speed. Zhao Zhijing’s palm strikes could not touch Gu Qing, who practiced the Heavenly Net Formation.

As they clashed, a hundred moves passed. Zhao Zhijing’s strength began to lag—he knew if this continued, he would die. He launched a desperate palm strike at Gu Qing, and at the same time, bracing for injury, he sought to revive his sword technique.

“Huh…”

As Zhao Zhijing struck, his arm went numb—his Zeze and Bizhong acupoints were seized, rendering one arm useless. Yet in that very move, he unleashed his sword art at point-blank range.

“Rampage Through the Northern Deserts!”

Applied at such close quarters, this sword technique summoned sword qi around his body in an instant. After this move came Quanzhen’s Triple Linked Circles—a desperate, life-or-death sword sequence.

If he could reach the Chongyang Palace, then Gu Qing would be the one to die!

Zhao Zhijing’s plan was perfect—but the Ancient Tomb Sword Art was the natural counter to Quanzhen Sword Art. Before Zhao Zhijing could complete his Triple Linked Circles, Gu Qing spotted three fatal openings, gathered his palm force, pierced through the swordlight, and struck Zhao Zhijing squarely on the chest.

“Puh…”

Zhao Zhijing spat blood upward, his body rolling like a gourd. He barely steadied himself, leaning on his sword to rise—but his vision darkened, his legs wobbled.

His qi and blood churned violently from the palm strike. In internal arts, one must lie still, calm the qi, and restore balance… but Zhao Zhijing could not afford to rest.

“Gu Qing, stop…”

Zhao Zhijing waved one hand, signaling Gu Qing to halt. “I was wrong about Lu Qingdou. I apologize. Tonight’s affair with Zhen Zhibing—I saw nothing. When I become the chief disciple, I’ll nominate you as the next one…”

The chief disciple was the designated successor to the Quanzhen abbot.

Gu Qing stopped. He looked at Zhao Zhijing’s pleading face, then said: “The rumor that I’m the abbot’s illegitimate son—you fabricated it, didn’t you? To prevent my master, Li Zhichang, from rising to lead Quanzhen because I was too outstanding?”

Among Quanzhen’s third-generation disciples were Li Zhichang, Zhao Zhijing, Zhen Zhibing, and others. Originally, it was Yin Zhiping—who in history was a famous Daoist. When Yin Zhiping led Quanzhen, one in ten Daoists across the land followed it.

Thus, Yin Zhiping was rewritten as Zhen Zhibing. The real Yin Zhiping retreated into alchemy and vanished.

As for Gu Qing’s master, Li Zhichang—he was a heavyweight figure. In The Return of the Condor Heroes, he later became Quanzhen’s abbot. Historically, after taking over, he allowed Daoist disciples to seize Buddhist temples.

Later, the Buddhists debated Li Zhichang—and he lost utterly. Soon after surrendering the abbot position, he died. Quanzhen suffered severe decline because of him.

Hearing this, Zhao Zhijing realized Gu Qing had seen through his schemes. He said: “This matter… my senior brother acted dishonorably. You…”

As Zhao Zhijing spoke, he suddenly saw Gu Qing’s hands descend, twisting his head.

“Master Gu… Master Gu…”

Zhao Zhijing cried out repeatedly.

Gu Qing ignored him, forcibly twisting Zhao Zhijing’s neck one hundred eighty degrees—until blood spurted from nose and mouth, and breath ceased.

“What a pity.”

Zhao Zhijing, in his final moments, sought only to live—but never considered death. Gu Qing felt he had lost a bit of good merit for it.

Having killed two Zhi-generation masters, Gu Qing stretched lazily, his gaze turning to the slope. Beneath the moonlight, Xiaolongnu lay wrapped in misty gauze and icy silk, her skin pale as jade. Without thinking, Gu Qing drifted to her side.

Their eyes met. Xiaolongnu’s gaze was complex.

He had stepped forward to save her purity—but he had secretly entered the Ancient Tomb, stolen its martial arts… an unforgivable transgression. She found it impossible to thank him.

“Dragon Lady, do you still need it?”

Gu Qing asked with a smile.

In the revised edition, Xiaolongnu’s beauty was slightly enhanced—confirmed by Zhou Botong, she was just a touch more beautiful than the middle-aged Huang Rong, and her emotional depth was expanded… though the passages where she made Yang Guo think of her a thousand times a day were better left unwritten.

But overall, Xiaolongnu’s body did warm.

Now, Xiaolongnu’s feelings for Yang Guo ran deep. Gu Qing understood the principle that “characters have their own lives”—he had no intention of stealing her away. He said this merely to tease.

If Xiaolongnu truly wanted it, and he gave it to her, he’d gain good merit.

“Need what?”

Xiaolongnu, confused, suddenly recalled her own flushed, emotional reaction after her eyes were covered. Shame and anger surged—her gaze at Gu Qing was no longer complex, but outright repulsion.

With Xiaolongnu immobilized, Gu Qing did not take advantage. He sat beside her and said: “Dragon Lady, today I killed Zhen Zhibing and Zhao Zhijing—all because of you. So, won’t you take this black pot? After all, they both died by Ancient Tomb Sect techniques.”

Xiaolongnu practiced the Ancient Tomb Sect’s Twelve Few and Twelve Many disciplines. Normally, she was as still as a deep well—but when emotion surged, it burned like fire. Gu Qing had stolen her sect’s arts, killed men, then shamelessly forced her to bear the blame—this shattered her inner defenses.

She had refused to leave the mountain because the world below was full of treachery. But now, after speaking with Gu Qing, she realized treachery existed even here.

Yet, from another perspective, Gu Qing had truly saved her. Otherwise, she would no longer be a pure maiden.

“And you?”

Xiaolongnu forced out the words, suppressing her rage.

“Of course, I’ll return to Quanzhen and sit in prison.”

Gu Qing smiled calmly. “Even if you confessed I killed them, no one in Quanzhen would believe you—I was under house arrest.”

“Also, Yang Guo’s adoptive father is Ouyang Feng, the Western Poison—a man who has done nothing but evil. Even if you tried to accuse me, you’d be the ones to suffer.”

Before killing them, Gu Qing had already considered the consequences. After speaking thus, he looked at Xiaolongnu: “I told you all this because I hope you’ll take responsibility. Otherwise, I’ll kill you now—and the blame for killing two Daoists will fall on Yang Guo.”

Xiaolongnu nearly vomited blood. Even when Li Mochou drove her to despair, she had never been this furious. Hearing Gu Qing’s words, she knew he spared her life out of mercy. Enraged, she laughed bitterly: “Are you even human?”

This was Xiaolongnu swearing.

“Of course I’m human.”

Gu Qing heard her, looked up at the moon, and reflected: “My life before? Hard to say. My life after? Still uncertain.”

(End of Chapter)