The blade had yet to strike, yet its piercing, razor-sharp, overbearing, and terrifying Gang Qi surged forth in full force—a true testament to the might of a Nine-Aperture Sword Cultivator!
(Note: “罡气” is translated as “Gang Qi,” a term commonly used in wuxia/xianxia contexts to denote martial or cultivated energy. “Nine-Orifice” is rendered as “Nine-Aperture” for smoother readability while retaining the original meaning.)
Meng Qi’s movement technique was eerie. He spun on the spot and dove backward into Tang Shu’s palm wind range, actually taking the impact on his back.
Tang Shu’s expression flickered with surprise. Then he felt his Yin-Yang spiral palm force, a mingling of opposites, vanish like a clay ox sinking into the sea. Though he had clearly struck the opponent’s back, it felt as if his force had poured into an endless abyss.
Struck by Tang Shu, Meng Qi used the momentum to propel himself forward, accelerating suddenly to an unimaginable speed.
His mind remained as clear as a mirror. He perceived the thinning and thickening of the martial energy, and with a flick of his sword, like a master butcher dissecting an ox, he sliced diagonally through the energy and charged toward the opponent’s narrow longsword.
At the same time, he transformed life into death. A powerful spiral Yin-Yang force erupted from the tip of his sword, merging with his true qi like a surging tidal wave, crashing down like a breached dam onto the martial energy and the narrow blade.
Ding!
A sharp metallic sound rang out. The narrow blade was sent upward in a rebound, and a white-clothed figure staggered backward, crashing through a round table, then through a wall, blood spilling from his mouth.
Meng Qi, who had cultivated the Eight-Nine Mystic Art and the Golden Bell Shield, already possessed formidable true qi. Combined with the essence of the Devil Overlord he had absorbed and the palm force borrowed from a genuine Nine-Orifice expert, the Nine-Orifice swordsman sent by the Ye family could not possibly withstand such an impact!
However, Tang Shu’s Yin-Yang spiral palm force was highly refined. If not for Meng Qi seizing the initiative and forcing Tang Shu into a hasty response, he might not have borrowed the force so smoothly. Even so, Meng Qi still felt pain in his meridians.
Luckily, although he couldn’t externally project a qi wall to borrow force, his physical body, cultivated with the Golden Bell Shield and Eight-Nine Mystic Art, rendered such injuries insignificant.
With one sword strike repelling the Nine-Orifice swordsman, Meng Qi ghosted sideways. His right hand held the sword and thrust toward Tang Shu, while his left palm struck toward the window.
Pa!
Wood fragments flew as a figure leaped in. The sword was like a flowing silk, swift as a startled swan, radiating powerful energy. Before the blade even arrived, the round table in the room was split cleanly in two, the cut smooth and flat as if by a knife.
Tang Shu raised his right palm and placed his left over its back, unleashing a palm force as cold as ice.
Meng Qi formed a hand seal, opened his third eye, and merged his spirit with true qi, observing his opponent. He sensed a scorching, explosive energy hidden within Tang Shu’s icy palm force. If he borrowed it, it would detonate inside his body.
Truly a seasoned expert of the martial world!
As for the swordsman, his true qi was concentrated in the blade’s edge, fierce and sharp, seemingly unstoppable.
All of this was reflected in Meng Qi’s mind like a calm lake. His left hand’s fingers shifted unpredictably, appearing weak and insubstantial, while his right sword, seemingly plain and unremarkable, changed from a thrust to a point, like a swallow skimming water, striking the palm force Tang Shu had launched.
The palm force exploded with a bang. The longsword, as if striking into emptiness, strangely sliced into Meng Qi’s hand.
Spinning like a top, Meng Qi absorbed the explosive, scorching heat and icy cold force, then suddenly appeared beside his left hand, slapping the sword away with a sharp crack.
As he spun, Meng Qi suddenly lunged forward, rushing toward the wall where the swordsman had previously attacked.
At that moment, a crisp bang rang out. The wall was directly smashed open, and a pitch-black, icy sharp spearhead pierced in, like a venomous dragon emerging from its den or a wildfire sweeping across the plains. With every flick of the spear shadow, Meng Qi’s every escape route was covered.
The newcomer was a tall, muscular man with unbound long hair, disheveled and hanging over his shoulders. His iron spear was wielded with a mighty aura.
Meng Qi’s Ice Abyss sword slashed outward aimlessly, the tip quivering and shifting unpredictably.
Suddenly, the sky filled with spear shadows retracted into a single spear, thrusting straight into Meng Qi’s chest.
Dang!
The wavering longsword, rising from below, struck the spearhead first, deflecting it upward.
Meng Qi crouched low, his left foot pushing off like an arrow. Sword trailing behind, he darted to the side of the spear-wielding man and stabbed fiercely.
The longhaired man retracted the spear’s end to strike the sword tip, but Meng Qi’s blade suddenly shifted, sliding along the spear shaft and slicing upward with a metallic clang, sparks flying.
The man’s right hand loosened, his body leaping backward. Meng Qi pressed the sword against the spear shaft, using the rebound to pierce through the man’s protective martial energy and into his right ribs.
A jet of blood spurted out. The longhaired man bent backward like a rigid board, escaping the Ice Abyss sword. He swung the iron spear to push the blade away.
Meng Qi did not advance but retreated instead, thrusting his sword backward as if his back had eyes, aiming straight at Tang Shu’s palm.
His mind grew calmer, his spirit and true qi flowing as naturally as his limbs. Everything around him was like a reflection on a still lake, clear and vivid.
Tang Shu pursued from behind. The swordsman had just dispelled the scorching and icy energies and was preparing to rejoin the fight. The swordsman was advancing with a blade thick with martial energy, still half a breath away from the battlefield. The spearman, wounded in the ribs, was gathering strength for another strike. In other words, at this very moment, within this half breath of time, his only opponent was Tang Shu—and he had borrowed the spear’s force!
Inside the nearby “Crescent Moon Room,” Wu Qinxin, Shangguan Han, and others stared in astonishment. In just two or three seconds, the battle had unfolded like a rabbit springing and a falcon diving, leaving them stunned. They saw “Gentleman Sword” Meng Shaoxia move like a phantom, dodging and weaving among four Nine-Orifice experts, defying logic as he advanced and retreated, single-handedly blocking all four and repelling one, injuring another!
At the stairway, Tang Mingyue swallowed hard. She had heard elders speak of how formidable the cousin of Master Qi was, but she had never imagined he could be this terrifyingly strong!
Everything nearby was reflected in his mind, even the flow of true qi felt as if seen with his own eyes. A sense of being the controller and master of this battle rose in Meng Qi’s heart. Indeed, the Deathless Seal Art was not afraid of fighting multiple opponents. Combined with the Golden Bell Shield and the Eight-Nine Mystic Art, it was even more so. Without an enemy stronger than himself, fighting multiple foes was actually advantageous!
Whether it was Tang Shu, the swordsman, the blade master, or the spearman, in a one-on-one duel without resorting to external techniques, Meng Qi would have found it difficult to emerge victorious, much less kill them. Yet, under their combined assault, within a short span of time, he hadn’t even drawn Xie Jie (his sword) and had already wounded two!
Of course, this was also thanks to Tang Mingyue. Without her warning, he would not have seized the initiative, leading the four Nine-Orifice experts by the nose. After all, his Deathless Seal Art was only at an initial stage, far inferior to the original version. If attacked simultaneously by four experts, borrowing force would have been extremely difficult. As soon as he borrowed one force, before he could strike, another blow would have arrived, leaving him overwhelmed and in grave danger.
By seizing the initiative, however, the number of simultaneous opponents he faced never exceeded two at any time since the battle began.
Inside the “Hundred Flowers Pavilion,” Qi Zhengyan sensed the commotion, his expression changed, and he grabbed his sword, preparing to rush out for aid.
At that moment, Tang Wu, Tang Sixun, was already prepared, his palms striking out like crashing waves, one after another. Lin Zhushi’s expression flickered, and suddenly he struck, his right hand forming a claw aiming at Qi Zhengyan’s vital point on his back.
Qi Zhengyan snorted coldly, his right palm striking the round table. A layer of frost formed, rapidly spreading, freezing the lotus root soup, vinegar-braised fish, and daughter-red wine, all the way to Tang Wu’s body leaning against the table and Lin Zhushi’s left hand supporting the table.
Neither had expected Qi Zhengyan to possess a technique akin to a half-step external manifestation. They froze stiff, their palms and claws slowing for a moment. Qi Zhengyan flashed past, striking each with another palm blow. Their blood vessels frosted over, their faces turned pale, shivering, unable to move.
In such a situation, Qi Zhengyan no longer considered whether to expose his abilities—he had, after all, experienced multiple cycles of reincarnation tasks. His decisiveness was unquestionable!
Meng Qi thrust his sword backward, carrying the momentum of the iron spear’s sweeping force, aiming at the weak point in Tang Shu’s palm energy distribution.
With a soft “puff,” Tang Shu’s palm force was pierced, his energy borrowed. He cried out in pain, blood spurting from his palm. He pushed off the ground and flew backward.
Meng Qi was about to use the momentum to attack the blade expert when his mind, as clear as a mirror and as calm as water, suddenly rippled. It felt as if something powerful had severed his external spirit perception and mixed true qi.
His intuition screamed danger. Without hesitation, Meng Qi used Tang Shu’s palm force to propel himself toward the shattered window.
As his figure rose, he suddenly shifted direction, like a phantom or a demon, rushing into the opposite room, crashing through the wooden door and window, and leaping toward the Shangshui River.
The swordsman, the first to be repelled, now held a longsword glowing with purple light. The blade bore many seals, its sharp aura as tangible as a physical presence, emitting a chill so intense that every guest in the Flower Moon Mansion felt a deep, instinctive fear, as if a sharp sword hung over their heads.
Sweat dripped from the swordsman’s forehead. With great difficulty, he swung the sword toward Meng Qi’s back.
Qi Zhengyan heard the crashing sounds of broken walls and windows. Startled, he rushed to the window to check Meng Qi’s location. A sword beam shot out, crimson-purple in color, emitting a piercing sound as it flew through the air. The green leaves on the surrounding trees fell one by one, as if winter had arrived, their cut ends smooth and sharp like a blade.
Without hesitation, Qi Zhengyan seized the opportunity as the sword beam broke through the window. He fully activated his Dragon Patterned Crimson Gold Sword, gathering clouds and moisture, condensing coldness, and then swung fiercely. A cold light, like ice and snow, slashed horizontally toward the crimson-purple sword beam.
The sword beam chased Meng Qi’s back, soaring over the Shangshui River, churning the waters, splitting them open, revealing a deep water scar, echoing the sword beam in the sky.
The water scar sped forward like a venomous snake, chasing Meng Qi’s shadow.
Bang!
The Snow Freeze Aurora Strike intercepted the sword beam, instantly shattering it into countless snowflakes that scattered into the sky.
It was midsummer. The snow had not even touched the water before evaporating into a white mist.
The crimson-purple sword beam pierced through the mist, seemingly dimmed somewhat, but its speed remained unchanged, chasing Meng Qi, who was about to leap into the river.
Unfazed, Meng Qi’s mind remained as clear as a mirror. He fully activated the Deathless Seal Art and the Eight-Nine Mystic Art, enhancing his senses and perception of the enemy’s true qi.
The sword beam surged, disrupting the surroundings. In Meng Qi’s mind, it appeared blurred and untraceable.
But when Qi Zhengyan’s Snow Freeze Aurora Strike collided with the crimson-purple sword beam, a faint “clunk” echoed in Meng Qi’s mind. His mental clarity returned, and he finally grasped a faint trace of the sword beam’s trajectory.
He placed his sword behind his back, tilted slightly, no extra movements, exuding an indescribable precision.
Dang!
The sword beam struck Meng Qi’s back, but it hit the Ice Abyss sword exactly, not an inch off, not a moment delayed!
With a crisp sound, the Ice Abyss shattered into countless fragments, flying into the sky like evening moths, beautiful like a painting.
After piercing the Ice Abyss, the crimson-purple sword beam had dimmed, but its aura remained sharp.
Plop!
Meng Qi fell into the water. Under the sword beam’s impact, the waves surged.
His body radiated a dark golden hue, countering the crimson-purple energy. The Deathless Seal Art was fully activated, transforming death into life!
Ding!
A small portion of the sword beam pierced the dark golden glow, entering Meng Qi’s body.
At this moment, Wu Qinxin, Tang Mingyue, and others rushed to the nearest window, watching the water with concern.
The water surface swayed, making it hard to see what was happening below. Suddenly, waves surged upward, carrying a trace of blood back toward the Flower Moon Mansion.
The waves, weak in force, only rose halfway before collapsing back down, and the river surface returned to calmness—no corpse, no figure.
In the riverside chamber at the edge of Flower Moon Mansion, Ye San, also known as Ye Xiaojie, gazed at the person opposite him with a faint smile, exuding a hint of smugness as he remarked, “The Hua Shan Sword Sect and the Zhou Jun Wang Clan are on the verge of a confrontation.”
The person facing him gazed at the river, seemingly lost in thought: “He actually survived under the Purple Sorrow Sword…”
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