This was nothing less than a luring the tiger from the mountain stratagem. To avoid mishaps from a protracted stay, Lord Abe Naka, together with the Imperial Consort and several attendants, disguised themselves that very night and departed with the magistrate of Penglai County. Naturally, the number of people entering the Taoist temple had to match the number leaving it, so "Stele-Breaking Demon Palm" Yin Li suspected nothing. Such disguises were arranged precisely because, while Han Zhen and his wife drank merrily with Wu Xun, there was fear that careless words might leak. Thus, only Wu Xun and the Han couple were privy to the secret.
It was a heart-rending moment. Yin Li had schemed tirelessly, spending a fortune to hire aid and at last managed to wound the famed pair "Crimson-Blood, Loyal-Heart" Han Zhen and his wife. Victory was nearly at hand—only to see it all undone. Rage and frustration consumed him."Wu Tong!" he spat. "Had you not interfered time and again, all would have been accomplished long ago!"
Even before his words died away, he struck—his palm flashing straight toward Wu Tong's forehead.
But Wu Tong was prepared. His steps shifted, his body swayed, swift as the wind. With a single move, Clouds Drift, Breezes Light, he evaded cleanly."Senior Yin," Wu Tong called out, "since matters have come to this, all we can do is wish Her Ladyship the Imperial Consort a safe journey!"
At this, Yin Li's fury only deepened. His eyes glinted with malice as he snapped to the black-clad men beside him:"Forward! Together! Kill this brat!"
Wrath rose to a fever pitch, and a murderous thought struck him: Only by killing this boy can my hatred be quenched!
A host of blades glittered as the men surged forward. Wu Tong's voice rang out, deep and stern:"Senior Yin, I have said already—let the matter rest. Do not press the tiger to bare its fangs!"
With a ringing shraaang, his saber flashed forth, blue light blazing like a rainbow. Instead of retreating, he advanced—hurling himself into their midst. The blade stormed like crashing waves; flowers of steel whirled in his hands. None could withstand him. Within moments, the likes of the so-called "Demonic Blade Envoy" Yuan Ping and "Swift-Blade" Li Jie were cut down in defeat. These petty lackeys were no match; a single exchange and half their weapons were struck from their hands, clattering to the ground. Cries of "Run for your lives!" filled the air.
The tide of battle turned in an instant. Wu Tong stood with saber in hand, his aura transformed, the edge shimmering with a cold, merciless light. A crushing presence emanated from him, suffocating all around."Retreat! Retreat quickly!" someone screamed. The mob quailed, terrified the legendary Wolong Saber would cut them down next.
Then Wu Tong threw back his head and laughed—wild and thunderous, shaking heaven and earth. But as his laughter rang, his expression shifted, his eyes grew profound, and his whole bearing transformed, as though he had become another man entirely."What… what is happening?!"
All present felt their blood chill. Slowly, Wu Tong raised the saber. His voice was suddenly deep and resonant—exactly like that of Li Wenzhong, Master of the Wolong Sect:
"I bear a treasured blade, named Wolong. Ever at my side it remains. Through winds and neighing steeds, I roam the rivers and lakes, life and death bound as one…"
The eerie, sonorous words echoed through the still night. Terror prickled at every spine."Could it be… Master Li himself, manifesting from beyond?!" someone gasped.
Moonlight bathed Wu Tong's figure, the saber trembling faintly as though possessed. The voice intoned:
"This saber I now bequeath. May it slay demons, uphold justice, save the innocent. Bear it with virtue, and let not its renown be sullied."
A night wind swept past—howling like ten thousand cavalry thundering across the plains. Heaven and earth themselves seemed to darken.
"When the Wolong Saber appears—no demon can prevail!"
Wu Tong's words boomed like thunder. The blade quivered in his hands as though alive. Panic broke the enemy ranks.
"Kneel! Kneel now!" one voice shrieked. In a heartbeat, the bandits collapsed to their knees, heads knocking the ground."Spare us, great hero! We were blind fools! Mercy!"
Wu Tong's gaze was cold, his saber lifting slowly. His voice cracked like a thunderclap:"If you do not withdraw, then—I—shall—slaughter—without—mercy!"
The words struck like lightning, leaving ears ringing. None dared resist."Flee! Flee!!" came the cry, and the rabble scattered, fleeing into the night.
Beneath the silver moon, Wu Tong stood unmoving, saber in hand, like a war-god descended. That night, the tale of the "Wolong Saber's Manifest Spirit" would echo through the martial world for a hundred years.
The survivors, trembling, bowed low to thank him for sparing their lives before scurrying away. Then Li Wenzhong's voice rang out again:"Yin Li of the Stele-Breaking Demon Palm—do you dare to face the Wolong Saber?"
But Yin Li sneered, his arrogance unshaken."Wu Tong, cease your ghostly tricks! You may scare the rabble, but you cannot fool me!"
At once Li Wenzhong's form leapt skyward. His blade flashed down, swift as lightning. Yin Li reeled back too slow—the stroke sheared away his topknot, hair tumbling loose. Before he could recover, another cut slashed across his belly, blood pouring forth. Staggering, he cried out, stripped of his former swagger:"Spare me, senior! I was blind, I trespassed against the might of the dragon! I beg forgiveness!"
Li Wenzhong's voice thundered:"Yin Li! For your disrespect toward the Wolong Saber, death would be just. Yet since you truly repent, your life shall be spared. But for offending this sacred blade, you must kowtow three times in penance!"
In abject terror, Yin Li dropped to his knees and banged his head thrice upon the earth."Now—begone!" roared Li Wenzhong.
Clutching his wound, Yin Li stumbled away. Lady Yu Guanyin rushed forward to support him, and the pair mounted their horses and vanished into the night.
When they were gone, Wu Tong slid the Wolong Saber back into its sheath and thrust it upright into the earth. Leaning upon it, his body sagged—and he stood motionless, as though asleep.
Zhao Rou's heart clenched in fear. Yet Han Zhen, seasoned in the ways of the jianghu, merely said calmly:"Do not be afraid. Just now the Saber's spirit possessed him. Now that it has departed, he merely sleeps. Go, wake him."
Zhao Rou stepped quickly forward."Brother Tong!" she called. No response. She touched his arm lightly."Brother Tong!"
Wu Tong stirred as from a dream, exhaling a long breath."What… what just happened?"
To him, it was all a blur—like a dream. Zhao Rou asked in wonder:"Do you not remember?"
Wu Tong frowned, searching his mind."I recall only the moment I swung the blade… then it was as if my soul left my body. After that, I remember nothing."
Zhao Rou whispered, half to herself:"So strange… You fought like another man. At first I thought you were feigning to frighten them, but when Yin Li himself was wounded—his hair shorn, his belly cut—I realized it was no trick. It was Li Wenzhong, Master of Wolong, who possessed you."
That night, the Saber's spirit had indeed descended—a mystery beyond explanation. Had they not seen it with their own eyes, none would have believed.