Chapter 27: The Fall of Broken Goose Mountain

Tall pines and ancient cypresses stood in solemn rows along the mountain ridge. The wind had dispersed the lingering smoke, leaving the cold mountain washed in deep emerald stillness.

Along the long stone steps, Song Huiya climbed alone.

From above, a swarm of martial artists rushed downward. Swords flashed, blades clattered, and chaotic slogans echoed through the valley. Yet the moment they saw her standing calmly in the middle of the path, their momentum froze.

It was as though tigers released from their cages had suddenly been forced back into them.

Seeing her unmoving figure, the leading elder laughed angrily.
“Fine, you've come to my doorstep!”

At once, the crowd scattered into the surrounding forest, weaving through shadows and broken light, forming a four-sided encirclement. Song Huiya slowly drew her sword. Its cold sheen blended into the mountain’s chill, but her presence only grew sharper.

Facing the crowd hidden among branches and mist, she said steadily:

“Those who stand in my way today will die!”

Many had witnessed her swordsmanship before—or at least heard the legends whispered across the mountain. As their formation shifted, more than half quietly withdrew.

Ten paces away, several young disciples carrying knives turned and fled.

They were not heroes—only men who valued their lives more than reputation. No one wished to become another stain of blood beneath Song Huiya’s blade.

The remaining disciples hesitated.

Then—

A sharp whistling sound burst from deep within the forest.

More than ten dark points appeared between the branches. Arrows rained down.

Song Huiya’s sword flashed.

Metal rang sharply as arrows shattered mid-air. With lightning speed she retreated downward, but before she could stabilize—

“Attack!” the middle-aged leader roared.

Blade light surged forward like a storm. Hidden arrows shot again from the shadows. Countless disciples emerged from concealment.

Enemies surrounded her from every direction.

For a brief instant, she stood like a fish upon the chopping block.

Her pupils shifted rapidly. Her body rotated mid-air, circling the encirclement. Before landing, her left hand used the scabbard to deflect hidden weapons and fling them backward. The force knocked her balance loose—

Her right wrist twisted.

The sword struck the ground lightly.

Like bamboo bending and snapping upright, her waist straightened again. Sword intent burst forth, swift as lightning, slashing forward—

Two heads fell.

Her movements were too fast to follow. By the time the crowd understood what had happened, blood had already spread across the stone.

Song Huiya stepped forward, pressing her palm against one opponent’s chest and throwing him into another’s blade. Using the confusion, she cut into the formation, advancing against the flow.

Screams erupted behind the crowd.

The middle-aged man turned—

A disciple’s limbs were flying through the air.

A massive figure advanced through the chaos.

Bei Tu carried a ring-pommel saber that seemed too large for his frame, yet every swing split the formation apart through sheer force.

He glanced toward Song Huiya, who had already reached the far end of the formation, and said calmly:

“Go, I'll cover the rear here.”

“Overestimating yourself!” the middle-aged man shouted. “Two come, two go!”

Bei Tu’s blade struck.

Weapons shattered.

Wherever the saber passed, no one could resist. Flesh and blood scattered. With each strike, his body seemed to expand. White mist rose from his skin like boiling steam, transforming him into something resembling a divine warrior.

When he finally paused, straightening his back, realization spread through the crowd.

“Northern Butcher?!”

His bones had lengthened. His skin tightened. His face grew younger, revealing a cold and imposing appearance. His eyes gleamed like the edge of a blood-wet blade.

The middle-aged man’s expression turned pale.

“Northern Butcher, you've been retired from the martial world for many years. Why come out of the mountains again? Wouldn't it have been better to find a place to enjoy your old age and quietly await death? You... those rumors from back then were actually true?”

Corpses lay scattered across the ground.

Bei Tu stepped forward. The crowd retreated instinctively.

Leaning casually on his blade, he said:

“Someone paid me to come out.”

“Who? How much did they pay? My Broken Goose Sect can pay ten times that!”

Bei Tu’s joints crackled like firecrackers as he adjusted to the strength surging through his body.

“You can't get out.”

The middle-aged man pointed at him, rage breaking his voice.

“Bei Tu! You've practiced that evil art, shrinking your bones for years, turning yourself into something neither human nor ghost. How long can you hold out? What do you take Broken Goose Mountain for? What a blessed place! Why must you die here? What grudge have we committed against you?!”

He stared at the blood crawling down Bei Tu’s neck.

“Are you insane? Where were you and Song Huiya bitten by those wild dogs? What kind of madness have you both gone through?! You risked your internal organs, all those years of cultivation, you—”

Before the sentence finished—

The saber flashed.

His head fell.

Blood sprayed across Bei Tu’s eyes, turning the world crimson.

He closed them briefly, inhaling the metallic scent drifting through memory.

Three years. Five years.

He could no longer remember.

Distance blurred. Time dissolved.

Only one memory remained clear—

Snow falling outside a broken hut.

A woman in a blue robe stepping inside.

“Old sir, I would like to ask you to do something for me.”

He had ignored her, continuing to sharpen his blade.

Two taels of blood-stained silver rolled across the table.

“I've said it before, I don't concern myself with the personal grudges of you martial artists. If you want revenge, go get it yourself.”

Snow pressed against the window.

Candlelight flickered.

Song Huiya sat down slowly.

“My senior uncle once joked that he wanted to invite you to come out of seclusion, and two taels of silver would be enough, but no one in the world could afford it. I never understood why, how could two taels be so expensive? And how could it buy the life of the world's top swordsman? Until this year when I came to Duan Yan City.”

He looked at her.

The crying boy from years ago was gone.

In his place stood a woman as deep as still water.

“Senior, before my master left, he entrusted me to look after Buluoshan. I failed. The hatred for Buluoshan is actually the same as your hatred for me. What you want to kill is not just the leader of Duanyanmen. What I want to protect is not just an empty mountain.”

Wind rose outside.

Branches trembled.

“Every day after my master died, I thought, she clearly had a chance to survive, why did she choose to die so impulsively? I also don't understand, with my master's example still fresh in my mind, why is my master still so stubborn? I really don't understand, what road in the world is so difficult to walk, that one must take it?”

Snow fell heavily.

“Born into the mud, I suffered endless torment, never learning compassion. After climbing the mountain and re-entering the world, I went from being shrewd and worldly to being battered and bruised, only then did I begin to understand. In learning principles, I may be a step slower than others, but at least it's not too late. I see clearly that it's an uneven path.”

Her voice hardened.

“Senior, you have a knife in your hand, and I have a sword. Why not crush this hypocritical world and turn this turbid martial arts world upside down?”

Silence.

Then—

“I beg you, senior, to draw your sword for the injustices of this world.”

The memory shattered.

Blade light returned.

Screams filled the mountain.

Blood soaked the stone.

---

Song Huiya continued upward.

Wave after wave of disciples attempted to stop her. She allowed those unwilling to die to leave.

But someone shouted from behind:

“Kill Song Huiya, and I'll give him a thousand taels of gold! If we send her up the mountain today, none of us will escape death! She even wants to kill the young sect leader to atone for that vile woman's sins. She wants to uproot our Broken Goose City to establish her own authority. Who in our sect hasn't offended those lowly people down the mountain? We must also guard against her eliminating us completely!”

Assassins surged again.

Hidden arrows struck.

Her old injuries reopened.

Still she advanced.

Blood covered the steps like fallen red maple leaves against winter stone.

By the time she reached the summit, poison had numbed her right arm.

Only Ye Wenmao and a handful of guards remained.

Song Huiya laughed.

“Ye Wenmao, is this what you call tens of thousands of Broken Goose Sect members? It seems that less than one in a hundred are truly loyal to you.”

She pointed toward the bronze bell.

“The bell is about to break, and you still don't understand that you've been abandoned by everyone? You're supposed to be a prestigious sect with nearly a hundred years of history, yet you've crumbled in half a day. If your ancestors knew, would they forgive you, this filial grandson?”

“Killing you is enough!” Ye Wenmao shouted. “Song Huiya, your master died from stubbornness, and so did you!”

“Ye Wenmao, your son died from arrogance, and so did you.”

Ye Wenmao froze.

“You killed my son?!”

“Yes. Like crushing an ant.”

Rage exploded.

Insults poured out—

Before they finished—

Her sword fell like a waterfall.

Hair ornaments shattered.

Half his hair scattered in the wind.

The guards began to retreat.

One spoke carefully:

“Great Hero Song, if you intend to kill us all at once, we will fight to the death. Though we cannot match your reputation as the greatest swordsman in the world, we may still have the strength to retaliate against you, who are now covered in wounds and still suffering from poison. If you are willing to spare us, we will part ways here and have nothing to do with each other, how about that?”

Ye Wenmao laughed bitterly.

“I have never wronged you all, why are you treating me so coldly?!”

“You have never shown me any kindness either, so how can you say you are cold-hearted? We have accompanied you this far, which is more than enough.”

Song Huiya stepped back.

“Thank you.”

They walked past her—

Then attacked.

Steel exploded.

Bodies fell.

Blood sprayed across stone.

Her left hand sword cut, her right hand snapped necks. Poison spread across her arm, yet her expression never changed.

“A friend of a villain is naturally a villain too. How could I be unprepared?” she said calmly. “But hasn't anyone told you that I'm actually left-handed? A left-handed sword can kill too.”

“Your left-handed swordsmanship, Song Huiya, was once renowned, who didn't know it? Didn't you have your bones broken and have to start all over again? Your sword is trembling, Song the Great Hero!”

“I don't believe a beast with its teeth pulled can still be so powerful!”

Footsteps thundered from below.

A massive blade flashed.

Song Huiya moved.

Like a dragon breaking the sea.

One strike—

Another body fell.

She cast aside her sword.

Seized a spear.

After twenty exchanges—

She thrust forward.

“Why would I need a sword to kill a piece of trash like you?”

Ye Wenmao slammed into the ancestral wall.

The plaque shattered.

Blood ran across the moss.

Silence followed.

Wind rose through the valley.

Trees trembled.

Dust spiraled.

Song Huiya stepped back.

Bei Tu stood nearby.

Corpses lay everywhere.

Neither spoke.

Time seemed to slow.

At last, Bei Tu said quietly:

“I’m going home. For over thirty years, I haven’t been home.”

Blood seeped from his brow.

Song Huiya looked away.

She remembered her master’s words.

Life is fleeting.

Like yesterday.

She dragged her sword behind her.

“I'm going back to find my apprentice.”

As she passed him, he extended his hand.

“This knife is for you.”

She accepted it.

“Senior...”

“Did your master tell you why I'm called Qian Erliang (Two Taels of Money)?”

She shook her head.

“Because I can never come up with that two taels of consultation fee back then. And there will always be two taels of silver in the world that can never be filled.”

He walked ahead.

“Song Huiya, thank you for coming to find me.”

Night fell over Duanyan City.

Stars stretched across the sky like a river.

They parted in silence.

---

Later, in a dark, broken house, Bei Tu placed silver coins on a bed.

“Mother, I'm back.”

The wind carried distant singing through the streets.

Memory returned.

Snow.

A dying mother.

Two taels of silver.

A lifetime wandering.

His fingers trembled.

Silence answered.

---

Elsewhere, Song Huiya returned.

A window opened.

“Master!”

She handed over her sword.

“Mmm.”

Then collapsed.