Wu Xun had served as an official for years and knew well the ways of the bureaucracy. He understood the hardships of the officialdom: without powerful support in court, even one who passed the jinshi examination could hardly secure a position, let alone accomplish great deeds. Now, hearing that Han Zhen valued Wu Tong so highly and even intended to recommend him as the twelfth Master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, his heart surged with joy. He felt this matter touched directly upon his brother's future. At once, he clasped his hands in salute, bowing deeply, and said with utmost respect:
"This is a matter of immense fortune. I must trouble Lord Han for such care and effort. I am endlessly grateful!"
Then, turning his gaze upon his younger brother, his tone sincere and solemn, he urged:
"Younger brother, why do you not kneel and thank Lord Han at once?"
Wu Tong, hearing his elder brother's words, suddenly saw the matter in a new light. What before seemed vague now became clear—this was not merely a personal choice, but a responsibility tied to the safety of the nation and the stability of the martial world. His heart swelled with emotion. Without hesitation, he clasped his hands, then bent one knee to the ground, about to speak words of gratitude. But Han Zhen laughed heartily and stopped him:
"Young hero Wu, there is no need for such formality—please rise!"
His gaze was steady, his voice grave:
"The Master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness bears a weighty burden—serving the nation, protecting the people, safeguarding the righteous path. This is no ordinary post, for it demands one risk life and limb for the peace of the martial world. In this mission, you and I have faced peril together, and I have already seen your character clearly. Thanks are unnecessary. Moreover, as the current Master, it is my duty to recommend worthy successors to the court. In years past, it was under the recommendation of Lord Luo Jing, the tenth Master, that I came to lead the Hall as its eleventh Master. Now, with my wife and I soon to retire into seclusion, it is right that another should carry forward the spirit of the Hall. Once this mission is concluded, I shall memorialize the court—and you shall be the twelfth Master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness!"
These words left everyone stunned. Zhao Rou, especially, felt both surprise and delight; her gaze upon Wu Tong brimmed with pride and admiration.
In truth, Han Zhen—the Iron-blooded Heart of Righteousness—had been observing Wu Tong in secret along the way. Though the martial world compared the two rising heroes as "Northern Jia Yong, Southern Wu Tong," Han Zhen knew that skill in arms alone could not qualify one to be Master of the Hall. The foremost standard was loyalty and integrity. For this reason, Jia Yong, though famed, had sided with the rebels and acted recklessly, contrary to the Hall's cause, and thus could never be chosen. Wu Tong, however, was different: his elder brother served the court loyally, and he himself, with unmatched skill in arms and an upright, chivalrous heart, already had a reputation throughout the realm. If such a man were not to become the twelfth Master, who else could be worthy?
Wu Xun could not contain his joy. Lifting his cup, smiling broadly, he said:
"My thanks to Lord Han for guiding the younger generation. It is my brother's great fortune to have met such a benefactor. I drink this humble cup to you!"
The two men raised their cups and drained them.
Han Zhen set down his cup, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. His heart too was filled with joy. These many years, he and his wife had fought side by side, serving the court, braving life and death. Now at last they could lay down their arms, retreat to the mountains, and live a carefree life together. And the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness had found a man worthy to inherit its mission. Truly, this was Heaven's will.
Turning to Yang Mi, he laughed warmly:
"Sister Mi, this is Heaven's decree! Tonight is a night to remember. Let us raise our cups to honor these two young heroes before us!"
Yang Mi too was delighted. The corners of her lips curved in a gentle smile as she said softly:
"Indeed so! As the saying goes, 'The waves of the Yangtze push ever forward, and each new generation surpasses the last.' Let us all together honor these young heroes of the age!"
At once, everyone raised their cups and called out as one:
"Cheers!"
The clinking of cups rang out; the fragrance of wine filled the air. That night, they drank and spoke freely, bonds of fellowship deepening, the atmosphere warm and joyful.
As the night grew late, Wu Xun took his leave of Han Zhen and his wife, preparing to return to the county yamen. He instructed Wu Tong and the others to be cautious of possible enemy attacks, and promised that once the mission was complete, they would meet again at his residence for a proper gathering.
The company watched Wu Xun depart, hearts full of hope for what lay ahead. Wu Tong, meanwhile, clenched his fists in secret, knowing that his responsibilities now transcended youthful feuds of the jianghu—upon his shoulders rested the righteous path of the martial world and the very safety of the nation.
On the nineteenth day, Han Zhen and Wu Tong, wary of an ambush from Yin Li, made their preparations. Yet the day passed without incident. The next morning, the company set out for the port to prepare Lady Yang's embarkation. Their great caravan marched forth, banners waving, blades gleaming, and by dusk they neared the docks.
Suddenly, a large force appeared ahead, bristling with weapons, moonlight glinting on their steel. At their head was Yin Li, clad in black, his expression cold, his voice loud and cutting:
"Hero Han, you have labored long on this journey, yet today we must still ask Lady Yang to accompany us to the kingdom of Tibet!"
Han Zhen sat tall upon his horse, his face calm, his tone touched with weariness:
"Brother Yin, must you truly remain so obstinate? This is my final mission. Can you not grant me this last courtesy?"
The Jade Guanyin's enchanting eyes sparkled, her lips like crimson petals, her voice clear as silver bells:
"Hero Han, the Tibetan king has paid dearly for the chance to behold the Lady's beauty. We who live in the martial world act for profit—when this is done, there will be great reward. Such a fortune should not be cast aside. Surely, Hero Han, you might see reason?"
At her words, Han Zhen's brows knit slightly, though his voice remained steady:
"Since you press us yet again, let this day settle matters once and for all. I see you have brought many helpers—why not introduce them?"
The Jade Guanyin's eyes glittered, her smile coy, her voice lilting with amusement:
"Since Hero Han insists, allow me to present a few renowned figures of the martial world."She gestured lightly, naming them one by one:"You have already crossed blades with Butcher Hand Deng Chao and Demon Blade Yuan Ping. Today, three new friends join us—Centipede Hands Chen Ping, Swift Blade Li Jie, and Orchid Jade Hands Jiang Xiu. This Jiang girl is a rare prodigy of martial arts. Heroine Yang should beware!"
At this, Yang Mi stepped forth, her bearing noble, eyes sharp as a blade. She swept her gaze coldly over Jiang Xiu and declared:
"Enough words! In the martial world, strength speaks. Let us test our skill in combat!"
No sooner had she spoken than Jiang Xiu leapt into the arena, her movements light and graceful as a flying swallow. Smiling faintly, she said:
"I have long heard of Heroine Yang's peerless martial skill. Since fate brings us together, why not exchange a few blows?"
Yang Mi's laugh was cold, her eyes keen:
"They say the Orchid Jade Hands is true to her name—beauty like the orchid, and a palm technique famed throughout the martial world: soft yet unyielding, nothing can withstand it. I, Yang, bear a heavy charge tonight. I will risk all to put it to the test!"
Her words had barely fallen when Jiang Xiu sprang forward, elegant as drifting petals. With a sudden flick of her slender fingers she cried:
"Orchid Brush!"
It was her signature technique—targeting vital acupoints, swift and ruthless, striking directly at Yang Mi's weak points.
Yang Mi did not dare take it lightly. She twisted aside, her movements fluid and graceful, and with a sharp cry, she soared upward, her palms flowing like waves, striking toward Jiang Xiu's left flank with a gale swift as lightning.
Jiang Xiu's reflexes were swift. She raised her palm to block, then suddenly swept a leg low in a lightning-fast kick toward Yang Mi's stance. The change was so quick that Yang Mi was forced into a rolling evasion. The two women exchanged blow for blow, moving with breathtaking speed, palm winds colliding, robes whipping in the gusts of their power. The onlookers held their breath, eyes wide, unable to look away.
At one instant, Jiang Xiu darted forward like lightning, her jade fingers stabbing toward Yang Mi's temple. Yang Mi raised a palm to block—but her opponent's strike transformed in a flash, five fingers spreading like an orchid bloom, stabbing instead toward the crown of her head. The sudden change was so swift that even Wu Tong and the others watching were shaken in secret.
They had not expected the Orchid Jade Hands Jiang Xiu to possess such exquisite skill. Her transformations were blindingly fast, her inner strength profound, her acupoint strikes nearing perfection. Yet Yang Mi was no ordinary fighter. Her jade palms whirled in defense, an impenetrable shield. Though Jiang Xiu's assault was fierce, she found no easy opening.
The two clashed fiercely under the rising moon, palm shadows flickering, their duel as dazzling as crossing streaks of silver light. At last, Yang Mi shifted her stance, her jade arms arcing gracefully, and unleashed a mighty strike:
"Lifting the Mountain, Overwhelming the Sea!"
Her inner strength surged, flowing through both palms. A colossal force erupted, thunderous and overwhelming as Mount Tai, sweeping down upon Jiang Xiu with irresistible might.
Jiang Xiu's face shifted, but she did not falter. Focusing her energy, her jade hands circled outward, soft outside yet hard within, motion within stillness. Her palms traced an arc through the air, releasing a tide of inner power to meet Yang Mi's overwhelming strike head-on.
Under the moonlight, the energy around them churned like two storms colliding.
The night fell silent. The vast fields lay hushed in silver glow, broken only by the whisper of leaves in the breeze. From the distant woods came the cawing of crows, harsh and jarring.
Then, all at once, the two women struck! Yang Mi's left palm feinted, her right palm roaring forth with shocking force. Jiang Xiu's hands twined, fingers spinning, channeling her inner energy in instant reply.
Their palms clashed in midair, their sleeves flying, their figures darting like lightning. The explosion of power shook the air like thunder, loud enough to split the heavens.
Boom!
The impact burst outward in a wave, scattering dust and leaves, sending crows shrieking into the night sky. Their shadows streaked across the moonlit heavens as the earth itself seemed to quake.
Both women staggered back three steps, their bodies trembling as they steadied themselves. Yet both bore the mark of the other's strike—each had taken a palm to the chest, their lips trembling, a thin line of blood seeping at the corners of their mouths.