The Duel of the Capital Escort Chief vs. the Twin Demons of the Western Domain – Winds Shift, Palms Like Thunder
It is said that Prince Danba of the Western Regions offered ten exquisite beauties to the Emperor of Great Yan. The Son of Heaven was overjoyed and, before the gathered civil and military officials, issued an imperial decree allowing the prince to select ten noblewomen from among the finest households of Luoyang and Chang'an. Pleased with his triumph, Prince Danba prepared to return west, laden with gold, silks, and beauties. Yet fate took an unexpected turn—official families of several chosen maidens secretly hired the Capital Escort Bureau to intercept him on his return route.
At that very moment, Wu Tong and his companions happened to cross paths with both sides. Three forces met under the crimson dusk—tension thick as steel.
Prince Danba's troops clashed several times but were soundly defeated. His famed warriors, the Twin Blades of the Desert, were grievously wounded by a single sweeping strike from Zhao Rou's flashing saber, blood streaming down their chests. Enraged and humiliated, the prince could no longer contain his fury. Seizing his jeweled scimitar, he stepped forth to challenge Wu Tong himself.
Before Wu Tong could reply, the escort leader Chen Hao, chief of the Capital Escort Bureau, stepped out from the ranks. Calm and unyielding, he said coldly, "Since I've taken this commission, I must fulfill it with loyalty. This fight—shall be mine!"
Before the words had faded, Chen Hao's palm lashed out—solid, fierce, and vast as a crashing tide. The two palms met with an ear-splitting crack of thunder. Prince Danba flew backward like a kite with its string cut, spitting three gouts of blood before crashing heavily to the ground. His attendants rushed forward, faces pale with fear.
Clutching his chest, the prince roared through gritted teeth, "Twin Demons of the Western Domain—let this old escort see what true terror feels like!"
From the crowd leapt two ghastly figures: Qin Wu, the Lust Demon, and Qin Wen, the Greed Demon. Brothers by oath and monsters by name, they were infamous across the Western Regions. Qin Wu was short and wiry, his hooked nose and slanted eyes gleaming with lecherous fire. Qin Wen, sharp-faced and cunning-eyed, was known for schemes within schemes—cold, calculating, and venomous. Together they had crushed countless foes; no man who had faced them both lived to tell the tale.
Chen Hao folded his hands behind his back, his voice calm as still water. "Enough prattle. If you wish to fight, then come. I'll be your opponent."
Qin Wu sneered, "Had you not meddled, the prince would stand victorious. Old man, let's see whether your bones are harder than our fists!"
"Brother," murmured Qin Wen, "beware his Empty Clarity Palm. It's said to balance hardness with softness—its changes are infinite."
"Save your breath!" Qin Wu barked, springing into the air like a maddened ape. Both palms crashed down, wind howling, inner force whistling sharp as knives. Qin Wen followed, his overlapping strikes like rolling waves surging from all sides.
BOOM!
Palm force collided midair. Dust and sand exploded skyward. Trees bent and grass flattened under the shockwave; thunder roared through the valley. The three fighters blurred—shadows weaving, vanishing, and reappearing like lightning. In an instant, dozens of blows were exchanged.
Then the twin demons spun upward together, bodies twisting like a whirlwind. From midair they descended in a combined strike, power bursting like a mountain collapsing upon Chen Hao.
But Chen Hao's eyes flashed with steel. Dropping his stance, he grounded his energy deep into the earth. His sleeves fluttered once—softly, almost lazily—and the force of their strike was drawn aside, absorbed, and dispersed like smoke. In the same fluid motion, his palms turned outward in counterattack, shooting straight for their chests.
Qin Wu, sensing danger, leapt backward—but Chen Hao was already upon him, moving like a shadow. Palm after palm lashed forth, thunder upon thunder. Qin Wen tried to strike from behind to relieve his brother, but Chen Hao turned mid-step, cloak swirling, and unleashed his supreme technique—the Empty Clarity Palm.
"Void yet not void!""Formless yet with form!""Emptiness itself is not empty!"
Three consecutive strikes, blending hardness and softness, illusion and substance, struck faster than the eye could follow. Qin Wu felt a crushing force slam into his chest, then another sear through his back. Pain exploded through him as blood burst from his lips; his body flew backward like a rag doll.
Qin Wen's face went white. He tried to retreat—but Chen Hao's shadow was already before him. A single palm cleaved through the air, whistling like a blade.
CRACK!
The blow landed squarely on his chest. Qin Wen crashed to the ground, convulsing, his mouth gushing blood. His energy scattered; defeat was total.
Silence fell. Not a breath stirred the air.
Every onlooker—warrior, servant, and noble alike—stared in awe. None had imagined that the chief escort of the capital possessed such overwhelming mastery.
Chen Hao clasped his hands behind his back once more, his gaze sweeping across the field. "I've shown but a fraction of my skill. If any man still doubts me—step forth and test your fate."
Prince Danba's face turned ashen. His fists trembled with rage. "You would humiliate us so?!"
Before he could speak further, Wu Tong stepped forward, eyes like sharpened blades. "Enough. You've lost—accept it."
The prince's men looked around uneasily; none dared move. The silence thickened until Darius, one of the prince's generals, staggered to his feet. Though wounded, his voice was steady. "Your Highness," he said solemnly, "swallow this anger—for now. The rivers and deserts of the world are vast. Live to fight another day. Dead men avenge no grudges."
Danba's eyes blazed. He had come east full of triumph, rewarded by An Qingxu himself, dreaming of glory and beauty. Yet now, beaten and humiliated before strangers, he could only choke down his fury.
He spat upon the ground. "Wu Tong—remember this! One day, this prince shall repay the shame a hundredfold!"
With a furious wave of his sleeve, he mounted his horse. "We're leaving!"
The remnants of his army, battered and bloodied, mounted behind him. As they galloped away into the setting sun, the yellow dust rose high, swallowing them whole.
The wind howled across the empty plain.
Wu Tong watched the horizon fade, his eyes deep and steady. "We spared him today," he murmured, "but this won't be the end of it."
The evening wind sighed through the barren road. The dust settled. Where moments before the air had crackled with killing intent, now lingered only the quiet strength of chivalry—and the unspoken weight of debts yet to be repaid.