Both sides, each with their wounded supported, withdrew into their own camps. Zhao Rou, deeply worried, immediately held up Yang Mi and asked anxiously:
"Madam Han, are you all right?"
Without delay, she pulled from her bosom a treasured elixir for internal injuries and carefully brought it to Yang Mi's lips, helping her swallow. Though pale, Yang Mi forced herself to smile faintly.
"It is nothing—merely a small inner wound. Do not trouble yourself."
Meanwhile, Jiang Xiu—the "Orchid Jade Hands"—was also guided back by the "Jade Guanyin." Her chest rose and fell unevenly, a trace of blood still wet upon her lips, proof that her injuries were far from light. Both women had received crushing strikes to the chest, their inner breath disrupted, leaving them unable to continue the fight.
The gathered crowd, shaken by the ferocity of the duel, held their breath. Yet Han Zhen knew in his heart this was only the beginning. Yin Li, wielder of the "Monument-Splitting Demon Palm," had not come merely to test blades—he would gladly throw men's lives away if it meant snatching away the imperial consort.
At that moment, from the mass of black-clad foes, one man strode forward. Lean and wiry, eyes sharp as a hawk's, his knuckles jutted like hooked claws, his fingers half-curled like coiled vipers. He was none other than the notorious "Centipede Hand" Chen Ping.
Chen Ping smiled coldly, voice steeped in menace:
"Han Hero, why waste your strength? Better to yield and spend your twilight years in peace than to stubbornly fight to mutual ruin."
Han Zhen's gaze narrowed.
"I have long heard of you, Chen Ping. They say the yin-force in your fingers can shatter stone and splinter bone. Since you have come to challenge me, why not allow me to witness it firsthand?"
Chen Ping's eyes gleamed, his lips twisting into a sinister smirk.
"A man takes coin, he must ease another's disaster—that is the rule of the Jianghu! Yin Li has already paid me five hundred taels in deposit, a thousand in all. The bargain is struck, and silver has changed hands—how could I withdraw? Han Zhen, as master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, you know well that in this world, if men do not live for fame, then they live for profit. Surely you understand?"
Han Zhen's face grew hard. He knew there was no avoiding this battle.
"Enough words. Show me your skill!"
Chen Ping instantly launched his hallmark technique, the "Twenty-One Forms of the Centipede." Darting forward like an arrow, he unleashed the opening fivefold strike, "Five Venoms United." His palms imitated serpent, scorpion, centipede, gecko, and toad—five poisonous creatures. His hand lashed like a serpent's tongue, hissing for Han's forehead; then cut from the flanks like the pincers of a scorpion; then curved and clawed like the centipede, the gecko, the toad, each strike dripping menace.
Han Zhen, meeting the attack, at once felt the cold, baleful force of Chen's inner power. It was venomous, coiled with killing intent—this was no ordinary foe. Resolving himself, Han answered with his own techniques: "Rivers North and South," "Unruffled Seas," and "Ends of the Earth." Their palms clashed again and again, power colliding like crashing waves. Within mere instants, dozens of exchanges had passed, the air alive with roaring currents and suffocating killing intent.
The duel raged past fifty rounds, neither gaining the upper hand. Chen Ping's defense was airtight, his offense vicious; Han Zhen's heart grew heavy. He gathered his qi to his dantian, then suddenly feinted aside and launched his peerless technique: "Heaving Mountains, Surging Seas." The strike thundered forth, unstoppable.
Chen Ping blanched but answered with his killing moves: "Centipede's Hundred Legs" and "Death Without Decay." His palms lashed like a hurricane. Their powers collided—boom!—like earth and sky collapsing. Onlookers froze in awe.
Yet Han Zhen's deeper cultivation prevailed. His counterstrike crashed home, blasting Chen Ping from his feet. The "Centipede Hand" fell heavily, coughing blood, his eyes wide with shock and bitter unwillingness. The "Jade Guanyin" rushed forward to catch him, face pale with fury.
But Yin Li clapped his hands and laughed instead:
"Marvelous! Han Zhen, your skill is indeed formidable. Yet we came well-prepared. Now—Autopsy Hand Deng Chao, it is your turn!"
From the enemy ranks stepped a gaunt, skeletal man clad in tight black garb, eyes sunken and glittering with bloodthirsty light. His pallid face framed lips unnaturally red, sending a chill through all who beheld him. He was the infamous "Autopsy Hand," a killer who delighted in ripping victims open barehanded.
Deng Chao bowed mockingly.
"At last I meet the famed Hall Master Han. Your reputation thunders across the land. Today, allow me to exchange a few moves."
Han Zhen steadied his breath. This would be his most dangerous foe tonight.
"Very well. Let us fight with bare hands—true skill against true skill."
His stance sank, his aura shifted, his presence vast as a mountain. Deng Chao only sneered, then leapt like a wraith, his palm lashing straight for Han's chest.
Han Zhen's eyes flashed, and with calm power he unfolded "Unruffled Seas." The palms met in a storm of force. Their figures blurred, strikes flying, qi surging like tides. Dozens of moves passed in heartbeats; then a hundred, still without decision.
The bright moon rose silently, silver light spilling down to illuminate their whirling shadows, two titans locked in mortal combat—neither willing to yield, neither yet able to claim victory.