Chapter 43

When he reached the stable, Zhao Ti said, “Duan Yanqing and the South Sea Crocodile God will only block me—you ride out on horseback. You have kinship with Wanchou Valley; they may not attack you. Those people like Rui Pozi won’t stop you.”

Mu Wanhqing’s gaze shifted: “What about you?”

Zhao Ti said, “I’ll follow soon—you wait for me on the road ahead.”

Mu Wanhqing fell silent for a moment: “I won’t waste words urging caution—just be careful yourself.”

Arriving at the front gate, Duan Yanqing stared intently, while the South Sea Crocodile God swung his crocodile shears: “Boy, come here and die.”

Zhao Ti said nothing, smiled faintly, and glided forward like light and smoke, his sword splitting toward both men, while Mu Wanhqing mounted the black horse and shot a short arrow from her sleeve, charging straight outward.

At this moment, Zhao Ti’s internal energy had greatly advanced—he had unblocked the Ren and Du meridians—and his swordplay had transformed anew; the Kuihua true qi clung densely to his blade, enhancing its chilling, ghostly aura.

In moments, dozens of strikes passed; seeing Mu Wanhqing vanish from sight, Zhao Ti swept his right sword horizontally at Duan Yanqing and thrust his left finger toward the South Sea Crocodile God.

This was an opening. Duan Yanqing’s eyes lit up—he feinted with his steel staff, and with a sharp hiss, a Yiyang Finger force pierced the air.

Zhao Ti suddenly spun his body—just after Duan Yanqing unleashed his Yiyang Finger—and raised a finger, pointing directly at Duan Yanqing in return.

Each hand has seven acupoints: Shao Shang, Shang Yang, Er Ming, Zhong Chong, Guan Chong, Shao Chong, and Shao Ze.

Anyone who cultivates internal finger arts must train one of these seven points; advanced finger techniques release true qi to injure others, and the qi must erupt from one of these acupoints.

Zhao Ti had reached the fourth level of Huan Yin Finger—he could now project true qi—but only the Shao Shang point, belonging to the Tai Yin meridian, was usable. This was the main channel; the other points were not true Tai Yin meridians and still required cultivation.

The Huan Yin Finger’s qi did not hiss like Yiyang Finger—it emitted a hollow, somber sound, striking straight toward Duan Yanqing’s Danzhong acupoint on his chest.

Duan Yanqing was stunned—he had never anticipated such a change. He frantically dodged, but too late; the finger force grazed his body, sending a sudden chill through him, making him shiver involuntarily.

“What finger technique are you using?”

Zhao Ti remained silent, thrusting his finger again—Huan Yin true qi surged once more toward Duan Yanqing, who raised his staff and unleashed Yiyang Finger force; the two internal energies collided with a sharp “crack.”

Such formidable internal power! Zhao Ti felt Duan Yanqing’s Yiyang Finger force was blazing and yang-dominant. No longer merely dodging, he now sensed the weight and solidity of the force as their finger energies clashed. “Indeed, excellent finger technique!”

“Old Three, get out of the way!” Duan Yanqing’s chest and abdomen swelled; the South Sea Crocodile God hastily leapt aside.

Duan Yanqing struck repeatedly with his steel staff, crossing and crisscrossing with Yiyang Finger force.

Zhao Ti laughed loudly, parried several strikes, gained deeper insight into the technique, then used the collision of the two finger forces to glide backward out of the courtyard.

Outside the courtyard, Duan Yanqing’s subordinates and Wanchou Valley men dared not block him. Rui Pozi and the others had feared Mu Wanhqing’s sleeve arrows—now seeing Zhao Ti rushing toward them, they all paled and turned to flee.

Seeing this, the South Sea Crocodile God moved to pursue.

“Old Three!” Duan Yanqing called.

The South Sea Crocodile God replied, “Boss?”

Duan Yanqing shook his head: “Even I can’t handle him—you chasing after him would only mean death…”

Zhao Ti moved steadily along the road, still using the Kuihua Baodian’s movement technique. Lingbo Microstep’s sixty-four hexagram footwork was unmatched in combat, but for travel, it was not as swift as the Kuihua Baodian’s recorded lightness skill.

He felt content—unexpectedly, his martial arts had advanced greatly in just a few days; Huan Yin Finger had reached the stage of projecting internal qi. Now, riding swiftly along the path for half an hour, he felt no fatigue whatsoever.

The bright moon hung high, casting a hazy white glow; the shadows of mountains and trees on either side of the road shimmered like a dream over the land.

Ahead, a black horse appeared, its rider a slender woman veiled in black gauze. She studied him, then spoke clearly: “You… get on!”

Zhao Ti leapt onto the horse’s back; the girl trembled slightly but steadied her voice: “Hold tight!”

The black horse galloped like wind and lightning toward the northwest.

Dawn broke, pale as fish belly; they reached a stream. The girl pulled the reins, dismounted, and tossed the reins into Zhao Ti’s hands: “This horse is called Black Rose. Treat her well—I’ll come to the gate of Wuwei Temple in Dali in a few days to reclaim her.”

Zhao Ti asked, “Where are you going, Mu Girl?”

Mu Wanhqing replied, “I’m returning to wait for my master. If he doesn’t see me, he’ll search for me at Wanchou Valley—he won’t rest until he finds me.”

Zhao Ti nodded, said nothing more, and spurred his horse toward Dali City.

Dali City lay northwest of Weichu Prefecture. After resting at a small town in the evening, he entered the ancient city of Dali the next morning.

This city was ancient and prosperous, filled with famous sights and thriving commerce. He headed directly to the place he had agreed upon with Zhou Dong.

When they left Dongjing, they had decided that if separated by accident, they would meet at Wuhua Tower in Dali.

Wuhua Tower, built in the Tang Dynasty, had served as a guesthouse for the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, receiving foreign envoys and rulers of minor barbarian states.

Before Zhao Ti reached the tower, he saw a giant man standing beneath a tree by the road, his face filled with anxiety.

He stepped forward and smiled: “Guangzu.”

The giant was Zhou Dong. Seeing Zhao Ti, his face lit up with joy; he hurried over and bowed: “Young Master, I’ve finally found you!”

Zhao Ti nodded: “Where’s Su Da?”

Zhou Dong said, “Su Da is on the other side of the tower—I’ll go call him.” He walked off to find him.

Moments later, the two returned together. Su Da bowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Zhao Ti said, “This isn’t the place to talk—let’s go to the inn.”

Zhou Dong and Su Da were staying in southern Dali City. They arrived quickly, closed the door to their room, and Zhao Ti asked for details. He learned that on that day, after circling the mountains, they had not yet crossed the Lancangjiang River when they encountered the South Sea Crocodile God’s subordinates.

The South Sea Crocodile God was always ruthless, and so were his men—they killed without asking why. A fight broke out on the spot.

Though Zhou Dong and Su Da were not top-tier experts, they could easily handle these subordinates. But unexpectedly, the South Sea Crocodile God arrived mid-battle. They were no match for him and were chased far away, forced to hide and heal for two days. When they crossed the Lancangjiang River again, they found no Zhao Ti—but they saw his hidden signs.

They followed the signs, but the trail vanished midway. At that time, Zhao Ti was training in a cave far beyond the Black Forest. The two discussed it and decided to come directly to Dali.

Zhao Ti listened, then asked about their injuries. Su Da said, “Young Master, we’re fully recovered. That South Sea Crocodile God is truly fearsome—if not for Brother Zhou’s aid, I’d be dead in his hands.”

Zhao Ti smiled, then told the two to rest while he pondered.

His purpose in coming to Dali was not only to find Langhuan Fudi, but also to observe Yiyang Finger—if possible, to obtain its manual.

Dali’s Yiyang Finger was passed only to sons, never to daughters or outsiders. Only later, when Duan Yu’s grandson, Master Yideng (Duan Zhi Xing), needed to subdue his great enemy, the Western Poison Ouyang Feng, did he break the rule and first transmit the art to Wang Chongyang, then to his four disciples—the Fisherman, the Woodcutter, the Farmer, and the Scholar.