“I really don’t know… when it comes to fighting with true martial skills, how many I can actually handle…” Tang Lici’s voice drifted like mist, ethereal and calm.
The plum leaf blade swept toward his neck. With a sharp motion, he raised his right fist to block. Clang! The blade struck his bone-washing silver bracelet, biting half an inch deep into the metal.
Tang Lici held firm, wrist braced against the strike, as Plum Blossom Numerology pressed down with full force. The two locked in a deadly stalemate.
Kuanglan’s long sword followed, its edge grazing Tang Lici’s clothes, the sound of fabric tearing already in the air. In that instant, Tang Lici’s left hand darted to his chest. Ding! A copper short flute—broken in half—flashed out, intercepting Kuanglan’s sword.
All three unleashed their strength at once. Tang Lici’s right wrist blocked the blade, his left hand parried the sword, his body riddled with openings. Yet from the silver bracelet and copper flute surged a blazing force, flowing backward into the meridians of Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing.
The three were locked in a contest of internal power. None could spare a hand for another strike. The wind stilled. Sand froze midair. Even the plum blossoms ceased to fall. The once-elegant dwelling now resembled ruins after only two moves.
Tang Lici had chosen this clash deliberately—to buy her time. Zhong Chunji’s thoughts raced. Leave or not leave? How long can he hold them alone? She quickly unsealed Master Puzhu’s acupoints and whispered, “Master, what should we do?”
Blood trickled from his lips as Master Puzhu flicked his sleeve, freeing everyone. His voice was cold as steel: “You all leave first!”
“Master, your true power hasn’t recovered—how can you fight? If we leave, we leave together; if we stay, we stay together,” Zhong Chunji urged.
Gu Xitan closed his eyes, forcing his energy to recover, unwilling to leave. Chi Yun’s face burned with anger—Tang Lici had deceived him earlier, and humiliation still seethed in his chest. He too refused to go.
Shen Langhun, after one circulation of meditation, stood and said indifferently, “Since you won’t leave, Miss Zhong and I will take Xiao Qilan and leave first. This place isn’t suitable for the wounded.” Without waiting for consent, he lifted Xiao Qilan. “I’ll contact you all later. I’m leaving.” His figure blurred and vanished.
Zhong Chunji stamped her foot in frustration. How could he decide on his own? She grabbed Fengfeng and chased after him.
Meanwhile, Gu Xitan, Chi Yun, and the others pushed open the door. Outside, the three combatants remained locked in battle. White vapor rose from Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing, while Tang Lici’s flushed face revealed the strain of resisting two masters at once. From Plum Blossom Numerology’s blade seeped a faint red mist—neither fragrant nor poisonous, its nature unknown. The onlookers felt suffocated at once, forcing themselves upwind for air.
“Leave!” Tang Lici’s lips curved faintly, his voice filled with true power. Though soft, the word shook the entire plum grove into rustling motion.
Master Puzhu’s black hair whipped in the night wind, his aura sharp with killing intent. “Without killing the evil villains, I absolutely won’t leave!” He raised his palm behind Plum Blossom Numerology, ready to strike without mercy.
But Tang Lici’s silver bracelet shifted. The plum leaf blade pressed three inches deeper, its tip grazing his neck, drawing a bead of blood.
“Leave!”
Master Puzhu froze mid-strike.
“Brother Tang, you—” Gu Xitan’s face twisted. Why would he rather die than accept help?
Chi Yun’s eyes narrowed. Tang Lici blinked, ground his teeth, and cursed under his breath. Suddenly, he struck the acupoints of Master Puzhu and Gu Xitan.
“I’m leaving!” Tang Lici smiled faintly. “No need to see me off.”
Chi Yun caught the two men, fury blazing. “If you die, I’ll never be done with you!” He swept them away, vanishing in Shen Langhun’s direction.
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The plum grove fell silent once more. Soon after, a faint string note drifted through the air like a receding tide, more distant than before. Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing sheathed their weapons and glided away into the shadows.
Tang Lici steadied his stance, standing against the wind. He drew a deep breath, exhaling a stream of light red air. With hands clasped behind his back, he caught a drifting plum petal, lifting it to his nose with quiet grace.
“Miss Hong, though the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique is miraculous, it is not without flaw. Your triple stratagem failed, yet it was brilliant.”
A soft sigh answered from within the grove. “Plans are made by humans, but success is determined by heaven. If it fails today, who can say what tomorrow brings?” The voice was elegant, tinged with melancholy—Miss Hong’s unmistakable tone.
Tang Lici let the petal slip from his fingers and turned. “Do you know how many times I could have taken your life today?”
“Three times,” came the ethereal reply. “When you entered the tower, when I first plucked the strings, and… now. The first time, you sought the pills’ location. The second, you feared for Chi Yun, unable to protect him while breaking through Plum Blossom and Kuanglan. And now… it is because you do not wish to kill me. Am I right?”
Tang Lici smiled faintly. “Mm… I greatly admire your qin-playing technique.”
Miss Hong sighed again. “Yet I cannot understand my defeat. I laced Yu Qifeng’s sword with Burning Heaven Flame poison, certain it would wound you. With Hua Wuyan dead by your hand, you must have the antidote. Even wounded, you would not die. I sent Plum Blossom and Kuanglan, expecting you all to rush forward, desperate to save one another. The String-Drawing Water scattered from the plum leaf blade should have made you all slaves to my qin. Why did you stop them from helping, ruining my plan?”
Tang Lici walked slowly into the grove, parting white blossoms until he saw her—Miss Hong, robed in white, seated before her qin. “When you plucked the low, heavy strings, I knew you were here. With your cunning, you would never risk danger without gain. Sending Plum Blossom and Kuanglan proved you had no intent to kill. If Fengliu Shop had unleashed all its masters, tonight would be a massacre. Since you spared lives, you sought people. Looking at Plum Blossom and Kuanglan, how could I not know what you wanted?”
The woman struck a single note. “But how do you know the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique?”
Tang Lici answered gently, “It requires three conditions: a weak will easily swayed by music, a frail body whose blood and energy can be stirred, and the ingestion of String-Drawing Water to amplify the sound’s control.”
Her fingers trembled, the qin humming. “Correct…”
Tang Lici bent and plucked a string—dong—a sound like spring water in heaven. Miss Hong leaned back, startled, but his hand pressed lightly against hers. “Miss has no heart to kill me—may I take that as affection?”
Her face chilled. Before she could speak, he guided her finger to pluck another note—ding. Then he released her hand.
Miss Hong’s expression darkened. All her life, she had been clever, untouchable, never belittled. Yet this man—skilled, cunning, and versed in her every art—had dared to treat her so lightly. Humiliation warred with uncertainty.
Tang Lici’s voice was calm. “Though miraculous, the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique is but poison-guided hypnosis. It exploits focused thoughts, leaving deep impressions. But its flaw is fatal—music is understood differently by each heart. Some turn violent, some self-destructive, most confused and broken. Only a rare few can resonate with the caster. To train Plum Blossom and Kuanglan to this level is extraordinary.”
Miss Hong’s voice was faint.
Tang Lici sat before her qin as if they were companions admiring flowers. “Does Miss Hong hope I might become your third Plum Blossom Numerology? That you brought only two, intending to recruit me?” He smiled gently. “If so, Tang Lici is deeply honored.”
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“What do you think?” Miss Hong’s face was frosty, killing intent flickering beneath her melancholy, elegant brow.
Tang Lici pressed his hand against the qin strings. “I think after the Yanmen incident with Yu Qifeng, you knew I would come knocking. Setting the poisoned sword trap and sacrificing Hua Wuyan were all to recruit Tang Lici today. Unfortunately, Tang Lici is extremely selfish and didn’t help save Xiao Qilan, avoiding the Burning Heaven Flame poison and making your calculations fail.”
Miss Hong’s voice was cold. “My only mistake was not knowing you were actually a master of the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique!”
Tang Lici smiled gently. “You flatter me. When I used the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique, you probably didn’t even realize it.”
Her anger flared, then cooled into icy composure. “I didn’t send out all my masters today to hunt you down and kill every last one—I was already giving you a break. Even if Young Master Tang doesn’t feel grateful, you shouldn’t insult me like this!”
Tang Lici’s finger brushed the strings—zheng—a soft note, his lips curved in a half-smile. “How does Miss want me to show gratitude? I’ll do as you wish.”
“You—shameless!” Miss Hong’s fury burst forth.
Another zheng. Her heart pounded violently, blood surging until she nearly stood. In shock, she drew a blade from her sleeve—clang!—cutting a qin string, clutching her chest as her face paled. “You—you actually—”
Tang Lici’s left hand seized the strings while his right plucked rapidly. Ding dong, ding dong—the melody was heavenly, yet to Miss Hong it was a deathly dirge. She staggered back, blood at her lips. “You, you, you… String-Drawing… Life-Stealing…”
His eyes half-closed, intoxicated, Tang Lici played faster, notes cascading like pearls on jade. Miss Hong screamed, stumbling away. Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing appeared instantly, supporting her as they fled.
The grove fell silent. Qin strings stilled.
Five li outside Luan Meigang, a white sedan chair waited. Miss Hong, pale and trembling, was helped inside.
“You’re injured?” came a surprised voice from within.
Miss Hong bowed weakly. “Tang Lici is cunning. He avoided the Burning Heaven Flame poison, nullified the String-Drawing Water, and forced Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing to protect me. Finally, he distracted me with words and used the String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique to try and control my mind. This man… I must kill him. He is hateful beyond measure!”
The gentle voice in the sedan asked, “The String-Drawing Life-Stealing technique is your specialty—why does Tang Lici also know it?”
Miss Hong shook her head bitterly. “It was taught by the Honored Master. I don’t know why he is proficient. Fortunately, without String-Drawing Water, he couldn’t truly control me. Otherwise… one moment of underestimation would have been lifelong regret.”
“Come into the sedan. We’ll discuss more at Wuqin Palace.”
The white sedan lifted, Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing escorting it into the distance.
Back in the grove, Tang Lici sat cross-legged, sweat beading his brow, hand pressed to his abdomen.
“With one man’s strength, you matched Plum Blossom Numerology and Kuanglan Wuxing. Even in defeat, you turned the tide,” a voice said from the shadows. “But after so many battles, even Young Master Tang must be at his limit.”
Tang Lici’s eyes remained closed, pain etched across his face. “You’ve watched long enough. If you want to profit while the snipe and clam fight, speak now.”
A man in black stepped forth—cold features, black sword, aura like frost. “I don’t care for profiting. You saved my junior brother’s life. If you had failed, I would have saved you.”
Tang Lici’s pale face curved into a faint smile. “Could Brother Cheng be Junior Hero Gu’s senior… ‘Frost Sword’s Cold Sorrow’ Cheng Yunpao?”
“Correct. Can you still stand?”
Tang Lici leaned on a plum tree, smiling. “I’ve heard your swordsmanship is unmatched, and your hatred of evil fierce. Seeing you today, your bearing proves it.”
Cheng Yunpao’s eyes were cold. “You led my junior brother into recklessness, killed Sword King Yu Qifeng, and stirred endless trouble. If not for your sacrifice to save him, I’d have severed your limbs. Enough talk—come with me.”
Tang Lici exhaled, twisting his blood-soaked clothes. A drop of crimson fell onto the fallen plums.
Cheng Yunpao reached to steady him, but Tang Lici pushed him away, swallowing a pill from a gray bottle. “Let’s go.” He walked forward, leaving a trail of blood, utterly unconcerned.
Cruel-hearted, proud-boned, brilliant—such a man could inspire admiration, yet also stir the world’s greatest chaos. Cheng Yunpao’s eyes flashed with killing intent. If this man ever strays, he must be destroyed.
“True energy is flowing—he’s conscious, but cannot yet speak,” Shen Langhun said coolly. “We need a quiet place to open his chest and repair the shattered bones.”
Cheng Yunpao’s cold gaze fell on Gu Xitan. “Overestimating yourself. Acting recklessly.”
Gu Xitan’s face burned with shame. He had always revered and feared this senior brother, whose reputation towered above his own. When Cheng Yunpao spoke with such severity, how could he dare argue?
“Come back to Qingyun Mountain with me to practice swordsmanship,” Cheng Yunpao commanded. “You haven’t even mastered half of our school’s techniques, yet you wander the martial world, provoking Yu Qifeng and even blowing up his house. Do you think the Central Plains Sword Association are blind, deaf, and mute, letting you trample them? On the verge of death, you still dare claim to act for justice—ridiculous!”
His words struck like thunder. Gu Xitan trembled. “Senior Brother, I…”
In a flash, Cheng Yunpao seized Gu Xitan’s left shoulder at its weakest point. Though thin and pale, he lifted him effortlessly with one hand. “Farewell, everyone.” His figure vanished with lightness skill rarely seen in the world.
“Good skills,” Shen Langhun remarked indifferently.
Chi Yun scoffed. “Good, yes—but pretentious and insufferable.”
Before Zhong Chunji could speak, Cheng Yunpao was gone. She sighed. “Martial world masters always have strange temperaments.” Inwardly, she thought Chi Yun’s eccentricities were far worse.
Her eyes fell on Tang Lici’s bloodstained clothes. “You’re injured?”
All eyes turned to him. Tang Lici smiled faintly. “It doesn’t matter. How is everyone feeling?”
“Fine,” Master Puzhu replied.
Fengfeng beamed, waving his hands, eager to leap into Tang Lici’s arms. Tang Lici lifted him gently. “Everyone is exhausted. Though Fengliu Shop has retreated, others may still be tracking us. If we separate, we’ll be defeated one by one. If we stay together, our trail will be too obvious, and pursuit will be relentless until annihilation.” He turned to Master Puzhu. “What does the Master think?”
The monk’s black hair fluttered. “I can protect myself. I will leave.”
Tang Lici inclined his head. “Then the strong leave, while the rest act together. Master, your cultivation is arduous—I won’t try to keep you. But for safety, wait until your poison injuries heal before departing.”
“Unnecessary. Until we meet again.” With robes fluttering and hair flowing, Master Puzhu departed, leaving behind no trace—like fallen leaves scattered by the wind.
“This Master has three points of similarity with you,” Tang Lici said, glancing at Chi Yun.
Chi Yun bristled. “What similarity?”
“Like you, he has personality,” Shen Langhun replied evenly.
Chi Yun was stunned. Zhong Chunji nearly laughed aloud. Indeed, in stubbornness and eccentricity, Master Puzhu and Chi Yun were equals.
Tang Lici turned to her. “Miss Zhong will act with us. I have something to discuss.”
“What matter?” she asked. “Zhong Chunji will speak freely of anything she knows.”
“I heard you came from Maoyang Peak. Do you know the location of Biluo Palace?”
She froze. “Biluo Palace? Does Young Master Tang intend to go there?”
Tang Lici smiled. “We’ve provoked Fengliu Shop and offended the Central Plains Sword Association. Though we fear no storm, endless fighting is wearying. If we don’t want to live in exhaustion, we must shift the burden elsewhere.”
“Shift blame to others? You mean to frame Biluo Palace? Impossible!”
“Not frame,” Tang Lici said gently. “Borrow their prestige, to live a few peaceful days.”
Chi Yun frowned. “You want to take us up Maoyang Peak? With Biluo Palace’s mystery, neither Fengliu Shop nor the Sword Association would dare pursue us there. But Wanyu Yuedan—why would he let you bring such trouble to his gates? Foolish dreams.”
Tang Lici’s tone was calm. “The martial world is fractured. The Blood Sacrifice Society is gone, Jiangnan Manor has withdrawn, and heroes like White Hair, Floating Cloud, and Heaven’s Eye have vanished. The great sects lack leaders. The Sword Association stands at its peak, Fengliu Shop lurks in shadows. As for us and Wanqiao Studio, we barely count as one faction. Only Biluo Palace can resist all forces and remain independent. Whichever side they favor gains strength, reputation, and righteousness. Since Biluo Palace is so vital…” He brushed his sleeve and turned gracefully. “Wanyu Yuedan must know: if one does not provoke the martial world, the martial world will provoke them. Even if it isn’t me today, someone else will come tomorrow. Who he lends strength to depends on his own vision.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Zhong Chunji coughed lightly. “Though you say this, but he… he…”
Tang Lici smiled. “He what?”
She faltered, realizing she had walked into his words. “He… Wanyu Yuedan does not wish to involve himself in the martial world again. He won’t risk Biluo Palace.”
Tang Lici’s smile deepened. “What if I can offer him a way to avoid danger? Or… what if I hold bargaining chips to draw him back into the martial world?”
Everyone was stunned. Zhong Chunji stared in disbelief. Yuedan had fame, wealth, and power—what could Tang Lici possibly offer?
Chi Yun and Shen Langhun exchanged glances. Shen Langhun spoke calmly. “To Maoyang Peak.”
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