Chapter 46: The Divine Pass and the Melancholy Soul

The Southern Song clung to the south; Xiangyang had become a mighty northern frontier pass, and Gu Qing rode here, deeply moved.

Many martial artists who had come for the Hero Assembly had already arrived in Xiangyang to aid in its defense; as a vice-leader, Gu Qing was known to countless people, and the city gates were swiftly opened to let him in.

Every martial artist who saw Gu Qing was thrilled and inspired.

“Leader Gu, we’ve all heard you attempted to assassinate the Mongol prince.”

“Though you failed, the Mongol prince lies unconscious, leaving the Mongols like flies without a head.”

As soon as he entered the gate, martial artists surrounded him, speaking one after another; it turned out that last night, the Mongols had shot countless arrows bearing messages promising official rank and ten thousand taels of gold to anyone who brought Gu Qing’s head—only after the Beggar Sect investigated thoroughly did they learn of his assassination attempt.

Those who came to Xiangyang to lend a hand were men of blood and spirit; they cared nothing for Mongol titles or bounties, but upon learning of Gu Qing’s act, they deeply admired him.

“Ashamed, ashamed—I had no poison needle capable of killing on contact.”

Gu Qing appeared deeply regretful.

But back then, there were too many experts around; even a lethal poison could be expelled by their internal energy—the Golden Wheel Lama himself had been struck by Ice Bone Silver Needles and expelled the poison using pure internal force, requiring no antidote.

The experts around praised Gu Qing again, uttering words so cloying that, if distilled, they could be condensed into five characters.

Gu Qing had done his best.

Yet this “best effort” earned him no good karma.

This disappointed Gu Qing—he had assumed figures like Kublai Khan or Jia Sidao had thousands, even tens of thousands, eager for their deaths, their misfortunes; eliminating them should have easily netted him thousands or tens of thousands of good karma—but now it seemed no such shortcut existed.

At this moment, Gu Qing was the toast of the martial world; even though Xiaolongnu possessed peerless beauty and Cheng Ying exuded the grace of a orchid in a secluded valley, no martial hero’s gaze lingered on them—Yang Guo, walking beside Gu Qing, felt increasingly lonely.

“Yang Guo, you’re back!”

A clear, ringing voice rang out; Yang Guo looked up sharply and saw Guo Fu in a crimson gown, her face blooming like spring flowers, waving vigorously from afar.

Guo Fu’s fervent warmth completely ignored Gu Qing, warming Yang Guo’s heart; he raised his hand in greeting, watching her approach until she stood before him, her expression half-angry, half-reproachful: “You left without even saying goodbye.”

Yang Guo looked at Guo Fu and felt she was more beautiful than ever.

“It happened suddenly…”

As Yang Guo opened his mouth to speak, he felt two intense gazes; he looked up and saw Wu Dunru and Wu Xiuwen, their faces dark, striding forward without waiting for Yang Guo and Guo Fu to exchange words, shouting angrily: “Yang Guo, you refused to spar with us at the Lu Family Manor—now that we’ve met again, we’re fighting, no matter what!”

“What are you two doing?”

Guo Fu snapped at them: “Is this how you greet Yang Guo?”

Wu Xiuwen’s face flushed crimson: “You know why we’re like this!”

Guo Fu’s warmth toward Yang Guo filled Wu Xiuwen and Wu Dunru with dread.

Seeing many martial heroes nearby eagerly watching, Gu Qing signaled them to hold their noise; the group proceeded to Guo Jing’s residence, where Gu Qing then nodded, giving them permission to brawl—and he sat aside, calm and composed, ready to enjoy the show.

“…”

Guo Fu said nothing, unwilling to let Gu Qing watch the spectacle; she dragged Yang Guo into the back courtyard.

“What’s going on here?”

Though Xiaolongnu’s Jade Maiden Heart Sutra had been broken, her innocent, pure heart remained unchanged; seeing her disciple Yang Guo dragged away for no reason, she grew annoyed with the two Wus.

“They’re fighting over a woman!”

Gu Qing chuckled, eager to follow and join the fun.

“Do you fight over a woman by drawing swords?”

Xiaolongnu frowned.

“Hss…”

Gu Qing drew in a sharp breath; Cheng Ying held her breath beside him.

“Their ‘fighting over a woman’ is a terrible example.”

Gu Qing soothed Xiaolongnu; once he saw she no longer questioned the matter, he added: “The two Wus are at least disciples of Guo Daxia—we should go watch, just to test Yang Guo’s martial progress.”

Gu Qing truly loved watching Yang Guo’s dramas.

Xiaolongnu finally nodded and followed Gu Qing, quietly crouching atop a pavilion, watching the four—Yang Guo, Guo Fu, Wu Dunru, Wu Xiuwen—in the training yard below.

After the two Wus made a scene in public, Guo Fu had no more patience; she looked at Yang Guo and said: “Giving them a lesson wouldn’t hurt—it’ll stop them from daydreaming all day.”

Hearing this, the two Wus were heartbroken; both were hopelessly in love with Guo Fu, and now she told Yang Guo to teach them a lesson…

“Come on, Yang Guo.”

Wu Dunru assumed the posture of the One Yang Finger.

Wu Xiuwen assumed the posture of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms.

Both were disciples of Guo Jing; though their martial skills had yet to mature, their foundational training was solid, and now, with their stances set, they stood steady and balanced.

Yang Guo glanced up, observing the martial postures of the two Wus; his left hand extended slightly, his foot stepped forward, his body stiffened like a corpse, charging straight toward them. Seeing Yang Guo attack, one drew a circular palm strike—the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms—while the other’s fingertips struck in rapid succession, a technique from the One Yang Finger.

Facing these two of the world’s most refined martial arts, Yang Guo’s palm never paused; he merely shifted slightly to evade Wu Xiuwen’s palm strike, his arm brushing against Wu Xiuwen’s wrist, forming the “Iron Gate Lock” pattern, then he pushed and flipped—within the motion, Wu Xiuwen’s fist struck Wu Dunru’s face, and with a twist of his wrist, he threw Wu Xiuwen to the ground.

One move!

Yang Guo instantly defeated both Wus!

“Huh?”

Gu Qing murmured in surprise, glancing at Xiaolongnu, who shook her head slightly.

Yang Guo’s move had defied all martial logic—even Xiaolongnu had never seen anything like it.

Gu Qing recalled Yang Guo’s technique and understood its origin: in the future, Yang Guo’s Melancholy Soul Palm would be born from losing an arm, deliberately violating martial principles; now, because of Gu Qing, Yang Guo’s spirit was gloomy, and having received the Nine Yin Manual’s summary, he understood martial norms yet rebelled against them.

Thus, using the Nine Yin Manual’s principles as a foundation, he inverted them, creating this bizarre technique.

In truth, it was already the embryonic form of the Melancholy Soul Palm.

And because no one had ever seen such a move, it achieved surprise victory—defeating them in one strike.

The stunned Wus snapped back to clarity; Guo Fu stared at Yang Guo, her eyes gleaming with wonder.

Gu Qing reached out and patted Xiaolongnu—Yang Guo had created this martial art sixteen years early thanks to him; Yang Guo should thank him.

(End of Chapter)