Yan Lan turned to Li Qingqiu, the commanding aura on his face fading as his usual warm, sunny smile returned. "Ku Yi and Ku Er are no ordinary men," he said with admiration. "Before following me, they were ranked first and second among the Heaven-Guardian Division's elite. Those so-called number-one martial artists across the provinces wouldn't even come close to them. For you to repel one of them with a single move—your martial skill is truly unfathomable. Don't tell me you're the rumored Jiang Zhaoxia?"
He had heard the name before—a young prodigy, famous throughout Guzhou for claiming the title of second in the martial world at his debut, even outshining the top-ranked master, Yu Zhiyi.
But Yu Zhiyi was an old veteran whose prime had long passed. People no longer felt excitement or curiosity toward him. Jiang Zhaoxia, on the other hand, was still young. His talent made others believe that if he continued to grow, he would one day surpass Yu Zhiyi altogether.
Yet to Yan Lan, such geniuses were hardly rare. From his vantage point at the top of the Great Li Dynasty, countless talents gathered around him daily, seeking to serve under his banner.
Even so, today's encounter surprised him. The man he mistook for Jiang Zhaoxia—Li Qingqiu—was far beyond expectations. He had never before seen anyone knock Ku Yi back with just one exchange.
"I am Li Qingqiu, Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect," Li Qingqiu replied calmly. He had no reason to hide his identity.
After all, this was Qingxiao Sect's territory. As its master, how could he stand behind his disciple and conceal his name before outsiders?
"Sect Master? You're so young," Yan Lan said in astonishment. Then his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Could it be true, then—that the legendary martial scripture obtained by the Dragon-Subduing Hero Yang Jueding has been passed down to your sect?"
Li Qingqiu's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who told you that?"
"I wouldn't know," Yan Lan said, shaking his head. "On my way here, I heard many martial wanderers talking about it."
Li Qingqiu immediately sensed the trap. The Qing Sect's doing, no doubt. They had always believed Yang Jueding possessed some peerless divine art and had hunted him for years.
Now, it seemed they were spreading rumors, trying to lure other sects and masters against Qingxiao Sect. Once the sect was weakened, the Qing Sect could swoop in and seize the fabled technique for themselves.
Fortunately, Jiang Zhaoxia had already been sent down the mountain to destroy the Qing Sect. If not, Qingxiao Sect would've faced mounting trouble with no time for revenge.
Yan Lan smiled politely again. "Sect Master Li, would you be willing to spar with my men, Ku Yi and Ku Er? Though I'm not strong myself, I have great admiration for the martial path and wish to witness a duel between true masters. You may fight to the point of contact—no killing. If you agree, I'll stay at Qingxiao Sect for a while afterward, perhaps I can even be of some help."
He paused, his tone still gentle. "Of course, if you refuse, that's fine too. We'll rest here for the night and leave tomorrow."
Qin Ye's heart pounded. He still hadn't fully recovered from what had just happened. The power those two displayed was beyond anything he could imagine. Facing real martial elites, he finally realized how small he still was.
Li Qingqiu's lips curved into a faint smile. "Since His Highness requests it, how could I refuse? Come, both of you—attack together."
At his words, neither Ku Yi nor Ku Er showed anger. Instead, Ku Yi unwrapped a weapon from his back—a pair of silver rods bound in black cloth. He connected them smoothly, forming a long staff slightly longer than Qin Ye's iron one.
Ku Er drew his sword and stepped beside him. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, their combined presence surging like a storm.
Li Qingqiu gestured for Qin Ye to step aside.
Once the disciple retreated, the two warriors moved as one. Without exchanging a single word, they launched forward in perfect harmony. Their footwork was incredibly fast—swift as startled swans—and in an instant, they closed in from both sides.
Ku Yi's silver staff swept horizontally while Ku Er's blade thrust straight at Li Qingqiu's chest.
Too fast.
Even standing at a distance, Qin Ye could barely follow their movements. His heart raced wildly. Are humans really capable of moving that fast?
Li Qingqiu's response was even faster. In a single motion, he drew the Tianhong Sword from his waist. A flash of cold light swept across the air—clang!—knocking aside both the silver staff and the long sword at once.
Ku Yi flipped backward midair and landed gracefully, one hand gripping his staff, the other braced against the ground. His posture was like a crouching beast ready to pounce. He slammed his palm against the earth, propelling himself forward again.
Ku Er, still in midair, swung his sword and unleashed a flurry of slashing arcs from above. Dozens of crescent sword-energies cascaded down like a silver rain, merging with Ku Yi's renewed charge.
Li Qingqiu raised his sword and met them calmly. He didn't use his full power—he wanted to test their skill first.
He was intrigued to see what level of mastery Yan Lan called "entry-level experts."
Snow and wind howled, the air filled with dazzling light as Ku Yi and Ku Er attacked again and again. Each time they were repelled, they came back with even fiercer strikes. Yet through it all, Li Qingqiu remained perfectly still, standing in the same patch of trampled snow, his Tianhong Sword parrying every attack effortlessly. His stance was as calm as when he sparred with Qin Ye earlier.
Watching his master's unshakable composure, Qin Ye felt his chest loosen in relief. Still, his eyes were locked on Ku Yi.
The Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff!
That was it—the same technique he practiced. But the aura Ku Yi emitted was vastly stronger. His every move matched the true essence of the art—wide, grand, unstoppable. Within a ten-zhang radius (about thirty-three meters), his strength roared outward, ripping deep scars into the snow.
Though he was several meters away, his inner force created countless phantom staff shadows that struck at Li Qingqiu from every direction. As the distance widened, those shadows only grew larger and stronger.
Meanwhile, Ku Er pressed closer from the other side, his swordsmanship sharp and precise, seeking any flaw in Li Qingqiu's defense rather than relying on overwhelming energy.
The two—one far, one near—moved like a storm and a spear, their attacks blending beautifully.
Yet between them, Li Qingqiu stood like a mountain. His sword moved smoothly, elegantly. The faster they attacked, the slower he seemed to move—and yet, no matter how slow he appeared, his blade always intercepted their strikes perfectly.
Wind and snow burst in waves, sweeping toward Yan Lan and blowing his hair loose. His eyes gleamed with excitement, his breath quickening.
Even he—who had seen countless battles—had never witnessed Ku Yi unleash his full might before. The Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff was said to be unstoppable on the battlefield, a nightmare for enemy troops. And yet, it couldn't shake Li Qingqiu in the slightest.
After exchanging more than one hundred moves, Li Qingqiu had already gauged the full measure of his opponents' strength. With a sudden twist of his body, he swung the Tianhong Sword upward. A sharp beam of sword energy tore across the ground, shredding through the enormous staff shadows in its path before crashing into Ku Yi like a thunderbolt.
Ku Yi's silver staff shattered in half. His straw hat split cleanly down the middle and flew off in two directions. He spat a mouthful of blood into the air and was thrown backward, crashing hard into the snow.
Almost at the same moment, Li Qingqiu turned gracefully and swung his sword toward Ku Er. A wave of sword qi swept out. Ku Er's expression changed drastically. He slashed desperately in defense, but his sword aura couldn't even compare.
Thud!
Ku Er met the same fate as Ku Yi—vomiting blood as he was blasted more than ten zhang (about thirty-three meters) away, collapsing heavily into the snow. He tried to get up but couldn't even lift his body.
So strong!
Yan Lan's eyes widened in awe. Li Qingqiu's final two strikes were too fast—slow at first, then exploding with lightning speed. Neither Ku Yi nor Ku Er could withstand even a single blow. The difference in power was like heaven and earth.
Qin Ye's heart leapt with excitement, and he couldn't help shouting in delight.
Clang—
Li Qingqiu sheathed his sword in one smooth motion, the blade flashing faintly as it slid into the scabbard. He turned to Yan Lan with a calm smile. "Since Your Highness wishes to stay at Qingxiao Sect for a while, that works out well. They can use the time to recover."
Ku Yi lay on the ground, trembling, unable to rise. His gaze toward Li Qingqiu was filled with fear.
He had never experienced such crushing sword intent before. There was no doubt in his mind—if Li Qingqiu had wanted to kill him, he could have done so in a heartbeat.
How could this man's martial mastery be this terrifying?
Yan Lan stood, clapping his hands in admiration. "Sect Master Li, your skill is truly unmatched—without question, the strongest I have ever seen in my life. It seems the rumors are false. Jiang Zhaoxia's ability has nothing to do with any mythical manual, but everything to do with your teaching."
He could believe that a divine art might create a young prodigy.
But to produce someone like Li Qingqiu in just a few short years? Impossible.
Li Qingqiu knelt beside Ku Yi and Ku Er, inserting a needle into each of their meridians to stabilize their qi and blood. Then he looked up at Yan Lan and asked calmly, "Your Highness, if you are truly the Crown Prince, why is your surname Yan?"
The emperor's surname was Zhao. How could the Crown Prince bear a different name?
The former Crown Prince had been named Zhao Yan. For the new prince to keep the same character "Yan" would be taboo—it would invite court gossip and political strife. Yet this man bore the name openly. That could only mean one thing.
It was one of the reasons Li Qingqiu hadn't stopped Qin Ye earlier from displaying the Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff.
The emperor might be corrupt, but the Crown Prince was said to have a good reputation.
Yan Lan smiled gently. "One must use an alias when walking the martial world. My real name is Zhao Lan, but I prefer the name Yan Lan. Please, Sect Master Li, continue to address me as Yan Lan. Just don't reveal that I'm the Crown Prince."
'Prefers it'?
Li Qingqiu didn't press further. That answer told him enough.
After some polite conversation, he waited until Ku Yi and Ku Er had recovered some strength, then led the four of them up the mountain.
As they walked, Yan Lan spoke softly. "This rumor about the divine manual—someone's clearly behind it, stirring the pot. It won't be long before trouble comes knocking on your door. I can't interfere with matters of the martial world, but I can help shield you from political pressure."
Li Qingqiu glanced at him. "Why help us, Your Highness? Because of the Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff?"
Yan Lan shook his head. "There are others who know that art, not just young Qin Ye and Ku Yi. No, my reason for helping Qingxiao Sect is because I admire your sect's way of doing things. Qingxiao Sect may be small, but you've saved countless lives—treating the sick, giving away food and money. Even if that silver came from bandits or rebel loot, your actions were righteous. Tell me, among all the sects in the martial world, how many can say the same?"
He smiled faintly, his tone sincere. "I've always believed that true martial artists shouldn't exist just to fight and boast of strength. The strong have a duty to protect others. In all of Guzhou, I've found every sect disappointing—except Qingxiao Sect. You've earned my respect... and my expectations."
Li Qingqiu listened silently, thoughtful. Someone must have leaked the details of Qingxiao Sect's donations, but thinking about it, he realized it wasn't hard to guess. The sect was small—no one would believe they could distribute so much wealth unless it came from less-than-pure sources.
Still, he didn't regret it. What they did was good.
When he gave that order, it hadn't been to gain fame—it was because he truly wanted to help the people.
His vision for Qingxiao Sect's future wasn't to grow strong by exploiting commoners like the great sects of old. It was to rise from the common people—gathering those with talent and heart to walk the path of cultivation together.
Yan Lan's view of the sect only deepened Li Qingqiu's favorable impression of him. The prince truly was as the rumors said—a man who cared for the people.
Inside a roadside inn, Li Sifeng, Wu Man'er, Cheng Canghai, and eight disciples sat at two neighboring tables, eating and drinking quietly.
After a full year of training in the outside world, the sixteen-year-old Li Sifeng had changed drastically—handsome, confident, and carrying himself with the relaxed grace of a young hero.
No one spoke much; half a day of travel had left them all weary.
Clatter!
The inn's door slammed open as a gust of snow blew in. A group of martial wanderers stormed inside.
"This siege of Qingxiao Sect will be led by the three major sects!" a burly middle-aged man at the front shouted excitedly, his voice booming through the room. "Our Ironbone Sect might not be first-class, but we can't miss this chance! If we play our cards right, we'll gain fame—and maybe even a divine art or two!"
His words sent a ripple of excitement through the men behind him. One after another, they echoed his cry, their faces burning with greed and anticipation.