Chapter 58: 57 Fire on the Roof

57 Fire on the Roof

The two of them each took up a stance, focusing their spirits for the confrontation.

There was not a soul around, and naturally no distracting noises; each of them focused on the other, secretly making their own judgments.

Suddenly, Tang Zhao made his move, pushing his Mountain-Moving Palm forward—Shift Mountain!

Although this palm technique had been modified by Ping Jiangqiu, its moves were still not particularly brilliant; fortunately, it was solid and without loopholes, lacking any weaknesses, and he did not fear striking first.

Jiao Feng followed suit, his palms flipping inside and out as he unleashed a continuous stream of moves.

Entangling Silk Hand!

This was no common Poison Sand Palm, but the true secret martial art of Black Spider Villa; once in motion, its direction was hard to discern, capturing the essence of the Black Spider's gloomy and eerie nature.

Jiao Feng's skill in the Entangling Silk Hand was also extremely deep, his movements lightning-fast, neutralizing the yin-softness of the original moves with a flurry of rapid attacks; this was an improvement he had made himself based on practical circumstances, and though it was a minor change, it showed he was a martial arts prodigy.

It was naturally difficult for Tang Zhao to keep up when it came to matching moves, but his Mountain-Moving Palm did not prize flashy movements; instead, in the application of force, its "swallowing and spitting" transformations could also be called "bizarre and strange."

After adding Internal Energy, because the energy could flow, the Mountain-Moving Palm added the concepts of "far and near" to its swallowing and spitting; it could strike from afar or spit out, and strike from near or swallow, and the combination of these two yielded several variations, not to mention the adjustments in direction and the stacking of palm force, making its variations even superior to the move-set of Jiao Feng's Entangling Silk Hand.

At first, the two were fighting palm-to-palm in place, but later, Jiao Feng was the first to start moving, his feet crossing, shifting back and forth, left and right, stepping in various directions to circle with Tang Zhao.

Tang Zhao did not move about, only changing his orientation in place with simple footwork to meet the enemy; while this was somewhat passive, it was a way to play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses. In terms of footwork, he held the advantage of being "steady," but he lacked agility and was not skilled at mobile combat, so he remained in place to respond to all changes with stillness.

The way the two fought was the exact opposite of their images.

Although Jiao Feng was lean, he was taller due to his age advantage, and he was serious and rigid, yet his fighting style was like surging water, twisting and flexible; Tang Zhao had a thin, weak body and a handsome, intelligent appearance, yet he fought like a ballast stone.

As they fought, they tested their strength against each other more than once; Tang Zhao used his Internal Energy as the Bone, and with the "one plus one is greater than two" power of his entwining force, he clashed head-on with Jiao Feng, and they were evenly matched. Both knew it was a war of attrition. Fortunately, both sides now confirmed there was truly no hostility and had no intention of a prolonged head-on clash of power, so they each controlled their strength, focusing on the sparring.

Jiao Feng changed several moves in a row but could never gain an advantage, saying, "Satisfying. Tang Zhao, do you have any more trump cards?"

Tang Zhao answered truthfully, "None left, my foundation is very thin."

Jiao Feng twitched the corner of his mouth and said, "You are truly honest. I am going to change my moves."

He paused for a moment, then suddenly his arms bent and straightened, his palms turned into fists, and he struck out like a rainstorm.

He had been expressionless, but after switching to this mad-tiger-like fist technique, his entire temperament changed, and his face took on a hint of ferocity, as if he wanted to hammer a hole through the ground.

Tang Zhao's pressure increased sharply; he hadn't been bluffing, his foundation was indeed thin, and his experience in combat was shallow. Even though his combat talent was not bad, it was ultimately difficult to prescribe the right medicine, and he couldn't even see the opponent's fist technique clearly.

Fortunately, the Mountain-Moving Palm was indeed refined; although he couldn't break the moves, the palm technique could naturally weave a net, and with his Internal Energy and external force, it guarded him firmly within, placing him in an invincible position.

It was just that he was now surrounded by Jiao Feng's fist technique, with only defense and no offense, leaving him no chance of victory. His only reliance was to wait for the opponent's force to wane, at which point the attacks would naturally slow down, allowing him to seek an opportunity to counterattack.

But the opponent's offense required strength, and Tang Zhao's all-encompassing defense also required effort; it was hard to say who would be the first to collapse.

Gradually, Jiao Feng used his fist technique to compress Tang Zhao's defensive circle by a layer; his own risk was even smaller, as the saying goes, "the best defense is a good offense." By attacking in large numbers, he could relax the flaws in his own defense. Moreover, he had already figured out Tang Zhao's moves and intentionally guarded the points the opponent could reach.

By this time, Tang Zhao's palm technique was already smooth and flowing, requiring almost no thought; Jiao Feng was effectively helping him hone his moves, and if he had to practice them himself, it would likely take ten times as long.

He was passively defending on one hand and looking for an opportunity to strike on the other, but the moves came one after another, leaving no gaps.

Suddenly, his heart stirred; he exhausted his force in a move of "Accumulated Earth Becomes a Mountain," then took a sharp breath, drawing Jiao Feng's body to the side, and quickly thrust his other hand forward.

This move was one he had never used before; it was light and fast, carrying almost no force, like a wisp of light smoke passing through the heavy shadows of fists—

In an instant, it stopped.

Any further, and it would be Jiao Feng's throat.

This move of his was incredibly fast but lacked power, and with his fingertips pointing forward and five fingers pressed together, if it touched anything else, not only would it fail to break the defense, he might have even poked his own fingers first; but the throat was an extremely fragile part, and even a light poke like this could still be fatal.

Jiao Feng froze instantly, his half-thrown fist stopping in mid-air.

The two stood in a stalemate for a moment, and Jiao Feng said, "I lost."

Tang Zhao smiled and naturally withdrew his finger; Jiao Feng also logically withdrew his fist, rubbed his uninjured throat, and said, "A new move? Did you create it yourself?"

Tang Zhao laughed, "Sword Technique."

Jiao Feng suddenly realized, smiled in relief, and said, "No wonder... Watch out!" He pushed Tang Zhao.

Tang Zhao only felt a chill by his ear as a black light grazed his ear and flew past. He had no time to think, rolled on the ground, rolled to the front of his Art Tool, and reached out to pull the Art Tool that was stuck in the ground.

A surge of power rushed in, his Spirit was invigorated, and in an instant, he had changed his state.

Looking back, the wall was empty, and seeing Jiao Feng's expression remained unchanged, he said, "Wan Biao."

Tang Zhao's anger surged; he reached the wall in a few steps, kicked off the ground, leaped onto the wall in one bound, and flipped into the outer courtyard.

Outside, Wan Biao, having failed his sneak attack, was already prepared; with a face full of blood, he dragged his broadsword and shouted, "Come here! Just now I was ambushed by you, this time I'll make you..."

Before he could finish his words, Tang Zhao rushed over with his Art Tool and, without a word, swung it like a club.

This strike hit the blade of the sword squarely; the webbing between Wan Biao's thumb and forefinger split, and the sword was sent flying sideways, disappearing from sight. He was then kicked in the chest, flying backward several yards, almost vomiting his heart and liver out.

He was stunned; it wasn't that he hadn't been beaten by Tang Zhao before, but he always felt he was only a few notches behind and not without room to resist. Taking advantage of Tang Zhao's departure, he had pulled in a few other partners who were bold, bad-tempered, and particularly resentful of Tang Zhao, intending to gang up on him. Although Gao Mo and Zhang Xu refused to come, he figured the numbers were enough, so he first ambushed him and then provoked him.

Who would have thought that Tang Zhao would rush over, send his sword flying with one strike, and kick him away like a sack? Not only him, but even his few partners who hadn't had time to attack were dumbfounded, their ears buzzing, all thinking:

Is this even human?

Tang Zhao still remembered the terror of that life-and-death moment just now, and with the culprit right before his eyes, he didn't have time to think and brought the Art Tool down in a chop—

A sword extended from the side and blocked in front of him.

The two weapons crossed; Tang Zhao's Wooden Sword could not advance an inch, but the force on the sword was also neutralized by a soft, yielding power, and he did not receive much counter-shock.

Tang Zhao looked up and saw a familiar, heroic face right in front of him, looking directly into his eyes.

He heard the other person say slowly, "Calm down."

Tang Zhao let out a long breath, slowly withdrew his force, and bowed, "Lord Xing."

This person was naturally Xing Ji. He first returned his sword to its Sword Sheath and smiled, "Tang Zhao, long time no see. You've changed quite a bit. Just now, seeing your might, I almost thought you had grown taller."

Tang Zhao felt a moment of trance; his memories flowed back in an instant, and he recalled many things from before. He calmed down and said, "Yes, long time no see. Thank you, my lord, for stopping me in time."

Xing Ji said with light surprise, "Hm? I thought you would resent me for stopping you from venting your anger."

Tang Zhao's emotions gradually leveled out, and he said, "How could that be? My lord is thinking of the big picture."

Just now, when his temper flared, there were no other thoughts in his mind, only the desire to run someone through with a sword, feeling that anyone standing in his way was an enemy. But that emotion quickly faded, his reason returned, and he immediately understood what Xing Ji meant—he could not kill anyone.

It wasn't that Wan Biao didn't deserve to die; those who kill should be killed, and even if one didn't follow the rules of the Grape Courtyard or the gentleman's agreement Tang Zhao had made himself, it should count as self-defense for Tang Zhao anywhere.

It just wasn't worth it, especially now, right before the battle; it wasn't worth negating over half a month of effort for a person like this.

Unless he wanted to take advantage of the situation to kill by mistake, so as to get rid of the imminent mission. But if Tang Zhao had wanted to do that, he would have had countless opportunities long ago; since he had actively persisted until now, how could he give up halfway?

With the killing intent gone, looking at Wan Biao lying on the ground, there was no anger either, only loathing and disgust.

Killing intent, huh...

This was something that had only sprouted after he learned martial arts. After the ups and downs of the past half month, he had ultimately gained many things he didn't have before.

At this moment, Zhang Xu and Gao Mo, who were peeking from the side, saw Tang Zhao withdraw his sword and came over bowing and scraping to drag Wan Biao away, not daring to disturb Tang Zhao and Xing Ji. Tang Zhao couldn't be bothered to look at them; whether they were actively currying favor to resolve future troubles for Tang Zhao, or if they still remembered their conspiratorial friendship and wanted to save this person's life, it had nothing to do with Tang Zhao anymore.

His previous actions were just for the sake of peace and quiet; he didn't truly intend to become the local tyrant of the Grape Courtyard.

Since Xing Ji had appeared, perhaps Tang Zhao's experience in the Grape Courtyard was about to come to an end.

Xing Ji nodded and said, "Just like before, intelligent and clear-headed, able to listen to reason. It's just that your temper is growing, which isn't very good. It's fine to be angry when ambushed, but you cannot lose your composure, otherwise, it's very easy to die."

Tang Zhao nodded in agreement and said, "Sir, I do feel that my temper is becoming increasingly irritable. Do you think I've developed some problem from practicing martial arts?"

Xing Ji scrutinized him and said, "Qi deviation? Doesn't look like it; I can check you in a moment. Do you remember when you first held a sword, you once wanted to slash me with it? I told you then: when one carries a sharp weapon, the desire to kill arises on its own. Learning martial arts is the same principle as mastering a sharp sword. But it's not entirely a bad thing. Anger and passion are inherently part of martial arts. Have you not read any books in a long time?"

Tang Zhao shook his head, and Xing Ji said, "You can find a few books to read, not to learn any principles, but to let your heart calm down. Or sit in meditation and practice your Internal Energy. These methods are all things one slowly grinds out for oneself; there's no need to rush. Go take a look at the lad who just sparred with you; he is injured."