At that moment, a man stepped out from the crowd of black-clad figures. His frame was tall and imposing, his presence commanding—none other than the Black Dragon Sect's Western Heavenly King, Xiao Cheng.
He gave a cold chuckle, his voice ringing loud and clear:"Since you fools refuse the toast and insist on drinking the forfeit wine, then on the day we meet again at Tengwang Pavilion will be the day of your regret! Let's wait and see!"
Before his words had fully faded, a figure flashed forward like a streak of lightning—appearing before Xiao Cheng in the blink of an eye, ghostlike and silent. Xiao Cheng's heart jolted; startled and alarmed, he instinctively raised his palm in a counterstrike. But the opponent's speed was beyond belief. In that single instant, Xiao Cheng had nowhere left to retreat. With no choice, he gathered all his inner strength and met the blow head-on.
Thump!A muffled sound burst forth as their palms collided. True qi exploded outward; Xiao Cheng gave a grunt, his body blasted backward through the air. He landed heavily, staggering several steps before regaining his footing, his heart pounding in shock. Fixing his gaze on the newcomer, he demanded in a low, wary tone:"Who are you?"
The bald man pressed his palms together in a monk's salute, smiling serenely."This humble monk's Dharma name is Zhenkong."
"Master Zhenkong?!"
Recognition struck Xiao Cheng like a thunderbolt. His eyes widened with disbelief. This Buddhist monk was a famed master of both Zen and martial arts, possessed of profound inner power and peerless palm technique. To meet such a figure here of all places—!
Just then, the sound of fluttering robes cut the air. Another figure suddenly streaked forth, swift as a gale, a palm strike descending like lightning toward the crown of Zhenkong's head. The attacker's movements were ghostly and unpredictable, his palm force sharp and merciless.
Bang! Bang!Zhenkong flipped his hands, his right palm meeting the strike from his right, his left intercepting the blow from his left. Two bursts of qi clashed in midair, waves of force rippling outward. Xiao Cheng's body jolted as he was forced back yet again, while the old man who had attacked was also driven two steps backward. Steadying himself, the elder smiled faintly."Master Zhenkong—it's been a long time."
Zhenkong's eyes narrowed. His voice turned cold."So, it's you—Huang Qi, one of the Two Evils of Huainan."
At this, another man stepped forth from the Black Dragon ranks, his voice cold and cutting:"Where is White-Browed Daoist?"
No sooner had the words been spoken than a figure drifted down like a floating cloud, his wide sleeves fluttering. He landed softly, his face calm and composed—it was indeed White-Browed Daoist. His gaze, sharp as lightning, swept over Huang Qi and his companion."When did the Two Evils of Huainan sink so low as to become the hounds of An Lushan?" he asked with a cold smile.
Huang Qi laughed instead of taking offense, tilting his head back in a great booming laugh."Ha! If wealth and honor can be seized, then I'd gladly be a mere reins-holder! An Lushan is a hero—bold in battle, sweeping all before him. He's taken both imperial capitals and now holds half the empire in his grasp. He's proclaimed the Great Yan dynasty, and he is the true sovereign of this age!"
At these words, Wu Tong's blood surged hot with fury. His eyes flashed with righteous fire as he barked out:"A man who eats the ruler's grain should serve the ruler loyally! An Lushan took the Tang Emperor's pay, yet harbors a wolf's heart—rebelling against the court and plunging the people into suffering. He's not only a traitor—he's lower than pigs and dogs!"
A stir swept through the crowd. Huang Qi had expected most martial folk to value power above principle, but never imagined this youth would dare publicly insult the 'Great Yan Emperor' before all. Rage boiled up in his chest, his eyes narrowing."Boy, you dare insult my emperor?!"
He launched forward in a burst of speed, leaping high into the air, his palm force like a storm tide crashing down toward Wu Tong's skull. The sheer ferocity of the strike churned the air, raising dust all around.
Wu Tong reacted without hesitation. His body turned, palms flicking upward—he flowed into the Eight Forms of Cloud Hands, his footwork light as mist. With a twist, he unleashed Shifting Stars, Trading Shadows, his figure blurring and fading, slipping past the deadly blow.
Bang! Bang! Bang!Huang Qi's three rapid palm strikes found only empty air. He pressed on, but Wu Tong's movements were like a butterfly weaving among flowers, effortlessly dissolving each attack.
Frustration mounting, Huang Qi drew back with a bark:"Name yourself, boy!"
Wu Tong stood calm and unruffled, even wearing a faint smile, his handsome face touched with unshakable composure."My words reach the heavens, my conduct is learned and proper—seated, I do not change my surname, walking, I do not change my name. I am Wu Tong of Lingnan!"
Huang Qi's eyes chilled, a snort escaping his nose."Never heard of you. But you won't leave here alive!"
He gathered his full inner strength; joints crackled, his robes trembled under the surge of qi. Then, like a tiger pouncing, he came at Wu Tong with ruthless, storming palms. Wu Tong met him head-on, palm shadows colliding in midair with thunderous force.
The two exchanged a flurry of close-range strikes, feet weaving in a deadly dance. Several times Huang Qi tried to seize Wu Tong's wrist and drive in with a killing blow, but Wu Tong's shifts were too swift, his changes too subtle.
Suddenly, Wu Tong's eyes hardened. His palms changed, channeling all his qi into a single technique—Muddy Waves Sweep the Sky! A roaring tide of force burst forth, rolling toward Huang Qi like a collapsing mountain.
Huang Qi's heart leapt with grim satisfaction."Competing in raw inner strength? Fool!"
Confident in his deep reserves, he met the strike directly—
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted. Huang Qi screamed, his body hurled back like a kite with its string cut. He tumbled several zhang before crashing to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth, his robes drenched crimson. His breath came shallow; his spirit was broken.
A stunned silence gripped the onlookers. Huang Qi—one of the famed Two Evils of Huainan—felled within mere exchanges by a youth barely seventeen or eighteen? Impossible… and yet undeniable.
In truth, his defeat sprang from his own arrogance. Underestimating the enemy is the surest road to ruin, and today he'd paid the price.
The Black Dragon Sect fighters roared in outrage, several gripping their weapons. Ma Ji, the other of the Two Evils, charged forward with murderous intent, his palms surging in broad, crushing arcs.
Wu Tong's gaze sharpened; he sidestepped with a cold snort, then countered with Splitting the Mountain, Shaking the Tiger! The palm wind howled, its force terrifying. Ma Ji's eyes widened—he dared not meet it directly. He changed his move mid-strike and leapt back out of range.
Knowing the tide had turned, he snarled:"Boy, I'll settle this with you another day!"
With a sweep of his sleeve, he gathered Huang Qi and the rest of the Black Dragon fighters, retreating swiftly.
Wu Tong watched them go with a faint smile."Mountains stay, rivers flow—we'll meet again."
The Black Dragon party galloped off, soon disappearing over the horizon.
By then, the red sun hung low in the west, clinging to the mountain ridges. Birds returned to their nests, the mountains lay draped in dying clouds, and the deepening dusk was tinged with the last faint glow of fading twilight.