Chapter 12: The First Battle

The thick-backed long blade, infused with a frenzied force born from fear, terror, and trembling, slashed downward toward Cheng Yong as if splitting Mount Hua in a single stroke.

Cheng Yong raised both palms, positioning them one before the other, preparing to counterattack and knock the blade aside. His martial arts skills were far superior to Meng Qi’s, as was his vision. The timing of his move was spot-on. However, as his iron palms began to rise, the wound on his left chest was jolted, causing blood to flow more rapidly and momentarily slowing his movements. His palms momentarily lost strength, allowing the long blade to break through his defense and slash toward his face.

As a seasoned warrior, Cheng Yong remained calm in the face of danger. He leaned back with the blade’s momentum, performing a “Lazy Donkey Roll” to evade Meng Qi’s strike. Meng Qi, lacking actual combat experience, hesitated for a moment instead of pressing the advantage to continue attacking while Cheng Yong was rolling on the ground.

Halfway through his roll, Cheng Yong placed both palms on the ground like a toad and suddenly kicked his right leg backward and upward, aiming straight at the imagined enemy’s solar plexus.

This was his signature move, one that had often turned the tide in his favor after being forced into a defensive roll. He hoped to end the fight with this technique.

However, his foot struck empty air. Using the momentum, Cheng Yong sprang up and saw the young monk, red-lipped and white-toothed, watching him hesitantly, clearly a novice with no experience in actual combat.

Damn it! Cheng Yong inwardly cursed. His reliable finishing move had failed because his opponent was a martial arts rookie who had missed the chance to pursue! This frustrated him greatly. After all the intense movements, he felt his chest wound worsening, blood flowing more heavily, and a sense of exhaustion creeping in. Stars danced before his eyes, threatening to plunge him into darkness at any moment.

“I have to treat my wound first.” Though he had taken the Heart-Stealing Pill, making him rash and impulsive, and feared the torment of the pill’s effects enough to obey the master of Yinhuang Fortress, Cheng Yong still retained a degree of rationality. Otherwise, those sect leaders under control would have been exposed long ago.

At this moment, he clearly understood that if he didn’t treat his wound, within dozens of breaths, he would likely collapse from severe injury, becoming nothing more than meat on the young monk’s chopping block.

Just as he was about to tear off his robe to bandage his wound, he suddenly heard the young monk let out a low growl of frustration and charge forward again, slashing with the long blade once more!

Damn it, why didn’t you chase me just now? With no choice, Cheng Yong could only gather his focus to deal with Meng Qi, hoping to end the fight quickly so he could treat his wound.

Jiang Zhiwei sat on the ground, leaning against the stone door. She watched Meng Qi, who fought like a crazed tiger, swinging his blade faster and faster. Though his technique was crude, his long blade and sheer strength kept Cheng Yong at bay. Cheng Yong, already gravely injured, had lost much of his martial prowess, his movements sluggish, unable to find an opening to close in on Meng Qi.

“Chaotic fists defeating a master…” For some reason, Jiang Zhiwei thought of this saying. Then, an idea struck her, and she shouted loudly, “Slash upward diagonally!”

Although she had been struck in the dantian of her lower abdomen, temporarily sapping her strength, her vision—enhanced by the opening of her eye aperture—remained keen. She could clearly discern the flaw in Cheng Yong’s footwork. At this moment, with Cheng Yong’s speed diminished, she could guide Meng Qi. Otherwise, in a clash between masters, the opportunity would vanish before she could even utter a word.

Meng Qi hacked away, feeling his blade like a stormy wind, forcing Cheng Yong to stay at a distance. A false sense of being a martial arts master swelled in his heart.

“This must be the Chaotic Wind Blade Technique…” Meng Qi thought inwardly, slightly proud of himself. Of course, he knew full well that this wasn’t the Chaotic Wind Blade Technique but rather a “Wild Hack Blade Technique.” If Cheng Yong hadn’t been severely injured, he would have been killed long ago.

“Slash upward diagonally.” Suddenly, Meng Qi heard Jiang Zhiwei’s voice. However, in his first real combat, and without prior coordination with Jiang Zhiwei, Meng Qi couldn’t instantly translate what he heard into a thought, and then into a swift hand movement. So, he continued swinging his blade horizontally as before.

On the other side, Cheng Yong also heard Jiang Zhiwei’s voice. His mind stirred, and he crouched low, lunging straight at Meng Qi’s lower abdomen.

A flash of blade light, and blood sprayed. Cheng Yong, clutching his left arm, stumbled backward, rolling away.

Then, he sprang up like a carp, glaring furiously at Meng Qi. In that lunge, he had charged directly into Meng Qi’s horizontal slash, suffering a serious wound to his left arm.

Where was that “Slash upward diagonally”?

Meng Qi looked at him innocently, finally understanding the change. He deliberately said, “Sorry, my reaction was too slow. I disappointed you.”

Pfft! Cheng Yong spat out a mouthful of blood in rage.

“Haha!” Holding her lower abdomen, Jiang Zhiwei laughed so hard she nearly convulsed. I knew it would be like this! Haha! Even if I die together with the little monk, I’ll die laughing!

Cheng Yong’s fury surged. He formed his right hand into a sword-finger and tapped several points on his chest. The bleeding stopped momentarily. Although the wound was too deep, and this was merely a temporary fix—his bleeding would restart within ten breaths, possibly leading to death—he had no choice. If he continued to tangle with this annoying little monk, he might die from exhaustion or sheer frustration!

As soon as Cheng Yong made that move and saw the expression of hatred on Meng Qi’s face, Meng Qi’s smile faded. His heart sank slowly. He understood that the next clash would decide life and death.

A heavy pressure enveloped him. Instinctively, he stepped forward and swung his blade downward.

Jiang Zhiwei stopped laughing. Supporting herself against the stone door, she struggled to stand up and assist Meng Qi. However, the dantian was the foundation of qi storage. Though not completely destroyed, it had still suffered significant damage, making it impossible for her to organize her scattered internal energy in the short term.

After temporarily stopping the bleeding, Cheng Yong shifted his stance, feet slightly apart. His severely injured left hand dropped low, while his right hand traced a half-circle, meeting Meng Qi’s blade head-on, as if attempting to disarm him barehanded.

Meng Qi inwardly cried out in alarm. He exerted all his strength to change his downward slash into a diagonal cut, avoiding Cheng Yong’s right hand. However, Cheng Yong’s left hand pressed against the blade, a mighty force surging forth, forcing Meng Qi to retreat several steps involuntarily.

Seizing the advantage, Cheng Yong pressed forward, his palms repeatedly breaking through Meng Qi’s blade defenses. For a moment, Meng Qi was in grave danger. If Cheng Yong hadn’t still been cautious of the blade’s sharpness and unwilling to risk another serious injury, Meng Qi would have already been killed by his palm techniques.

No good! If this drags on, I will surely die! An overwhelming sense of danger and the shadow of death struck Meng Qi’s heart, causing his eyes to slightly redden. His blade continued to swing wildly, but his mind raced with thoughts.

“Why didn’t I ever learn a proper blade technique?” Meng Qi clearly understood that if he had even a basic grasp of blade techniques, given Cheng Yong’s condition, he could at least defend himself until Cheng Yong’s injuries flared up or Jiang Zhiwei recovered. But now, all he could do was hack and slash! In that moment, he felt deeply discouraged.

No grasp of blade techniques… Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed through Meng Qi’s mind, and he recalled Cheng Yong’s earlier attempt to seize the blade.

Gritting his teeth, his eyes bulging as if they might pop from their sockets, Meng Qi slashed downward once more, as if determined to perish together with Cheng Yong.

Cheng Yong inwardly sneered. His right hand traced a circle, while his left hand rose to meet the blade, attempting to clamp down on it. Meng Qi, having exhausted his strength, could no longer alter the blade’s trajectory.

The long blade was seized between Cheng Yong’s palms, instantly wrested from Meng Qi’s grip. Just as Cheng Yong pulled backward to yank the blade away, he suddenly felt emptiness before him—he was only grappling with thin air!

Bad! This sudden loss of resistance left him off-balance, slightly staggering. At the same time, he looked on in astonishment as the young monk took two precise steps forward and threw a punch with his left fist.

The moment the blade entered Cheng Yong’s hands, Meng Qi had already released his right hand, directly abandoning the blade!

Then, taking advantage of the wide opening in Cheng Yong’s chest and abdomen, Meng Qi surged forward, delivering a “Tiger Claw to the Heart” from the Arhat Fist technique with his left hand.

Bang! Meng Qi’s left fist struck Cheng Yong’s wound on the left chest with full force. The wound tore open, blood gushing like a waterfall, splattering Meng Qi’s head, face, and entire body.

Cheng Yong made a gurgling sound in his throat, his hands still gripping the blade, as he staggered backward, staring in disbelief at Meng Qi, now covered in blood.

Could it be that he had been defeated by a little monk who could only hack and slash randomly? Could it be that he had been killed by someone with mediocre martial arts skills?

Thud! Cheng Yong fell backward, kicking up a cloud of dust, his eyes wide open in death.

“Hahahaha!” Meng Qi laughed maniacally, all his fear, dread, suppression, and trembling pouring out uncontrollably. With blood covering his face and body, he looked particularly terrifying. “I may not know blade techniques, but I know fist techniques! Surprised, huh!”

After his laughter, Meng Qi gasped for breath, feeling completely drained of energy, utterly exhausted.

“Little monk, you’ve broken your vow of speech by calling yourself ‘old man,’ old man…” With the major threat eliminated, Jiang Zhiwei also felt relieved, her mood lightening as she cracked a joke. However, she refrained from uttering the word “old man” completely, considering herself a lady who shouldn’t use coarse language.

“Escaping a great calamity, even the Buddha would rejoice for me and wouldn’t blame me…” Meng Qi said joyfully, his body and mind relaxed. “Miss Jiang, how are you feeling now?”

As he turned his head, Jiang Zhiwei quickly stopped him: “Don’t worry about me first. Pick up my sword and stab him in the center of the forehead to prevent any sudden revival.”

She had been taught how to handle such situations.

Meng Qi nodded. He stepped back cautiously, keeping his eyes fixed on Cheng Yong while squatting to pick up Jiang Zhiwei’s long sword. Then, carefully approaching Cheng Yong, he thrust the blade from a distance into Cheng Yong’s forehead.

The blade pierced through, and Meng Qi finally relaxed completely. Cheng Yong was undeniably dead!

Only now did Jiang Zhiwei have the heart to comment: “Little monk, you have real talent! In your very first real combat, you calmly and keenly grasped the situation, set a trap, overcame your fear, discarded the blade for fists, and delivered a fatal blow. In the future, you might truly become a martial arts master.”

“Hehe.” Hearing Jiang Zhiwei, a martial artist of high skill, praise him, Meng Qi grinned foolishly with slight pride. It seemed he wasn’t a complete failure at martial arts after all!

At this moment, the blood on the ground suddenly began to ripple and transform into words:

“Jiang Zhiwei and Zhen Ding have saved Cheng Yong from the torment of the Heart-Stealing Pill, completing one of the side missions. Each is rewarded with ten virtuous merits.”

Is this even possible? Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei exchanged astonished glances, seemingly hearing each other’s thoughts. Killing someone was considered saving them?

But upon reflection, being controlled by the Heart-Stealing Pill was indeed a fate worse than death.

“Our previous analysis was slightly off. Now, where can we find allies?” Jiang Zhiwei lightly frowned.

Confused and troubled, Meng Qi asked, “Then what’s the point of this side mission…”

“Perhaps it’s meaningless.” Suddenly, Jiang Zhiwei gasped in alarm. “Oh no, Qi Sister!”