Despite Meng Qi’s banter and Mo Li’s help, when the swordsman made his move, it was directly aimed at Monk Yuan Zhi.
“Clang.”
The sword was blocked not far from the old monk’s head.
It looked close, but it was impossible to go any further.
The swordsman’s curved blade, which had tasted the blood of many, was caught between a dark purple soft sword and a dull short blade, one in front and one behind.
With the clash of true qi, sand and dust flew, and the ground sank slightly.
Monk Yuan Zhi was not only emitting white smoke from his head but also from his whole body, as if he were sitting in a steamer.
The three people suddenly couldn’t see their weapons clearly: “…”
It was just a rise in realm, how could it cause such a commotion as if ascending to the sky?
The old monk, having practiced diligently all his life with deep inner strength but rarely using it, ended up causing such a big scene.
The swordsman hesitated slightly, his hand slowed a bit. In a duel between experts, success or failure was decided by a fraction of a second, let alone when facing two opponents.
Mo Li’s left hand sank slightly, pushing away with a reverse palm.
The swordsman, caught off guard by Mo Li’s sudden withdrawal, instinctively turned his latent counterattack towards Mo Li due to the force, then felt a bone-chilling cold at his right rib. The swordsman, snapping back to his senses, twisted violently to avoid Meng Qi’s horizontal slash, albeit clumsily.
His raincoat, outer garment, and inner shirt were torn simultaneously, revealing scar-covered skin.
The swordsman retreated two steps, trying to escape the range of the sword’s wind.
His nerves were stretched to the limit, constantly on guard against Mo Li beside him. Even so, when the dim blade light came, it still caught him off guard, slicing off half of his bamboo hat as he dodged.
——Mo Li had a blade without a sharp edge in each of his sleeves, but the swordsman didn’t know this.
In this short moment, the swordsman’s clothes and hat were already torn. It wasn’t that his martial arts were inferior, but just when he tried to dodge, Meng Qi struck him with another sword.
Unlike the swordsman’s obvious killing intent, Meng Qi and Mo Li’s moves were without warning. One completely hid within the other’s aura, giving the swordsman very little time to react.
The swordsman adopted a defensive stance, retreating hastily.
Meng Qi didn’t pursue, standing calmly in front of Monk Yuan Zhi and asked slowly, “You are from Piaoping Pavilion, presumably here for the ledger as well. Why did you attack without asking a word?”
The swordsman remained silent, glancing back and indeed saw Mo Li’s figure.
——His retreat was blocked, leaving would not be easy.
The brief encounter was enough for both sides to gauge each other. The swordsman’s disadvantage was very clear. Although his martial arts were high, his inner strength was somewhat lacking.
Originally, assassins didn’t rely on deep inner strength to make a living. They aimed for a single, fatal strike with ruthless and merciless moves, killing as many as possible in the shortest time. Such people were undoubtedly very troublesome. They weren’t afraid of injury or pain and were ruthless enough to exchange an arm for someone else’s head.
However, this fearsome ruthlessness was useless against Meng Qi and Mo Li.
This was because the two of them working together had a level of tacit understanding far beyond ordinary.
Trying to find a chance to defeat them with a smaller force was out of the question.
The swordsman’s heart slowly sank.
Before coming here, the swordsman never imagined he would encounter such a predicament. There were only a handful of top experts in the world, yet he had run into three unknown ones. That was fine, but among them, two clearly had different styles, yet they displayed such extraordinary coordination.
It felt like fighting more than just two people.
The swordsman glanced at the broken bamboo hat at his feet, then touched the hole in his waist.
Meng Qi didn’t see fear in the swordsman’s eyes, only frustration.
“In the world of martial arts, one has no choice. With such skills, the two of you should at least give your names, so I can report back properly,” the swordsman said hoarsely.
As he spoke, Mo Li frowned.
Meng Qi noticed this and leisurely replied, “A wise man knows when to retreat. You have good insight. Therefore, I have some good advice for you, and you might want to listen.”
“We are strangers; there’s no need to say more.”
The swordsman didn’t want to respond, but he was also unwilling to leave just like that, his eyes flickering continuously.
Meng Qi found this amusing and gave Mo Li a look, indicating that although this person’s martial arts were high, he was not very shrewd. Even with only his eyes visible, his emotions were laid bare, which explained why he covered his head and face.
Feeling smug, Mo Li’s hand itched a little.
However, Meng Qi was right. Even the death warriors caught in the rice shop were more troublesome than this one.
Mo Li thought while scrutinizing the swordsman.
The persistent scent of blood and killing aura around the opponent made Mo Li uncomfortable. After observing for a while, he felt something odd but couldn’t pinpoint it.
Meng Qi continued, “I see your martial arts are not bad, and you’re considered one of the top experts in the martial world. Why subject yourself to such a life-threatening business?”
“Grateful for someone’s kindness, I serve them by risking my life. The rice shop ledger is like a hot potato. In your hands, it will only bring endless trouble. If you don’t want to use the ledger to make a good connection with Piaoping Pavilion, you’d better burn it. My master has ordered that no one who fights for the ledger will be spared.”
The swordsman, with a hoarse voice, held his knife and was fully on guard. His body, tense and bent forward like a bow, was ready to strike at any moment.
“My skills are mediocre, I can’t do anything against you two, but Piaoping Pavilion has more than just me. The clues to the ledger end with you, and more will come. You’d better plan early.”
“Oh? I don’t think so,” Meng Qi said with a mocking tone. “For an expert like you, if Piaoping Pavilion can bring out a few more, they wouldn’t need to make money as assassins. Changing their names and gathering a ragtag group would be enough to establish a sect, or they could join a powerful figure in these troubled times and enjoy wealth and glory.”
The swordsman didn’t want to talk more. He squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: “Killing doesn’t depend on martial prowess…”
Meng Qi pretended to understand suddenly, nodding, “Oh, you mean the death warriors from Thunder Hall? I’ve seen them, quite impressive. They blew the ground flat by three feet, leaving a huge pit, and even dirtied one of my outfits.” He gestured as if brushing off dust from his clothes.
Mo Li inappropriately thought of a sand rat digging.
The swordsman’s face under the mask must have looked awful. He took a sudden step back, crushing stones underfoot.
They couldn’t communicate; neither soft nor hard tactics worked. This ledger issue would not end well.
Meng Qi also didn’t intend to make peace with Piaoping Pavilion.
If not for coincidentally catching Monk Yuan Zhi’s breakthrough and trying to extract some information about Piaoping Pavilion from the swordsman, Meng Qi wouldn’t have bothered to say much.
“Since you two are stubbornly refusing to listen…”
“Wait, what do you mean by ‘stubbornly refusing’?” Meng Qi pretended to be surprised, laughing with his sword in hand, “From what you’re saying, do you still intend to leave?”
Stay and watch the old monk steam? Stay and face three opponents?
The swordsman didn’t react immediately, but when he realized what Meng Qi was saying, his eyes turned cold, and his killing intent surged.
“Do you two intend to keep my life?”
The swordsman had killed countless people. If he decided to fight desperately, even the best martial artists would have a headache dealing with him.
Meng Qi, however, didn’t take it seriously at all. He had figured out the swordsman’s abilities and knew that with his skills, the swordsman couldn’t harm Monk Yuan Zhi. With the situation firmly under control, Meng Qi was naturally at ease. At this moment, Meng Qi showed a surprised expression, tinged with a bit of displeasure as if he had been misunderstood: “Why would I want your life?”
The swordsman’s eyes were cold. He vaguely felt that Meng Qi’s words were not so simple.
Sure enough, the next words he heard were like a knife to the bone.
“…A living person is useful.”
The swordsman laughed angrily. Not only did they want to keep him, but they also wanted to capture him alive?
If this got out, everyone in the martial world would be stunned.
It’s not just about the enigmatic assassin organization, Piaoping Pavilion. Even common assassins would commit suicide if they failed. If they couldn’t even do that, their reputation would be ruined. Who would dare to hire such people?
Assassins only learned two skills: killing and escaping.
The swordsman knew he couldn’t win against the two of them working together, but that didn’t mean he had no way to escape.
The swordsman wanted to see where Meng Qi’s confidence came from and why he had such an absurd idea.
Meng Qi didn’t get angry. Instead, he thoughtfully echoed what the swordsman was thinking.
“With martial arts at our level, if one is determined to run, it is naturally hard to stop. Let alone preventing you from committing suicide is quite difficult. But you don’t want to die!”
The swordsman was choked by this remark.
He shouldn’t have come up this mountain or thought he could negotiate with anything other than his weapon.
The blade flashed out again, and the branches three feet away broke under the invisible killing intent. The swordsman’s figure moved swiftly, leaving several afterimages in an instant. The blade light was like snow, filling the entire clearing. Sand and stones flew in all directions like a torrential rain.
Mo Li raised his sleeve to shield the meditating Master Yuan Zhi from the flying debris.
A dark purple sword light curved in a half arc and suddenly brightened, accurately cutting the snow-like blade light into two.
All this happened very quickly. In that instant, the sword light and blade edge outshone the blazing sun.
Mo Li silently appeared in front of the swordsman, who was so frustrated he almost spat blood. He kept changing his footwork, and although he could barely break through the encirclement with his fierce blade momentum each time, the next moment another person blocked his retreat.
If it were some famous sword formation or a perfect combination of two swords, the swordsman wouldn’t have been so annoyed.
It clearly lacked structure or technique, so where did such coordination come from?
Even if they ate and lived together, grew up together, and understood each other’s thoughts without speaking, they couldn’t achieve this level.
—Unless they had a master with the same weapon style practicing with them daily.
Obviously, that was impossible.
The more the swordsman fought, the more irritated he became, especially when he found that the two gradually stopped attacking and focused solely on blocking his escape.
After several unsuccessful attempts to break through, he felt like a monkey being driven in circles.
Meanwhile, Mo Li grew increasingly puzzled.
There seemed to be spiritual energy in the swordsman’s inexhaustible inner strength.
It was different from the spiritual energy stored within the body after consuming natural treasures, which slowly depleted through the meridians. Nor was it like the indistinguishable blend of spiritual energy and inner strength that he and Meng Qi possessed, which would never reveal any anomaly even in the most intense battles.
Now this spiritual energy was intermittent and erratic.
At first, Mo Li couldn’t even be sure it was coming from the swordsman. In fact, his initial reaction was that a newly sentient dragon vein on the western mountain had come out to watch the excitement.
It took some time to confirm that the source was indeed the swordsman, which greatly surprised Mo Li.
He couldn’t help but ponder. It wasn’t a dragon vein taking shape, nor did it seem like he had consumed a lot of spiritual medicine. Where did this spiritual energy come from? The claims of destiny or fate by practitioners were nonsense; spiritual energy wouldn’t follow a person for no reason. Could it be—
“Brother Meng, do you think he could be spiritual medicine in human form?”
Mo Li’s whispered question made Meng Qi stumble, thinking how impossible that was.
The swordsman seized the opportunity and charged out.
His raincoat was gone, and his back clothes were torn to shreds, with the sword wind leaving several bloody marks on his bare back.
The swordsman ran without looking back.
Meng Qi was about to chase when he felt a gust of wind behind him and instinctively dodged.
Turning, he saw that Monk Yuan Zhi’s tattered cassock had been blown apart by his own released inner strength. His shriveled, thin chest slowly swelled, and muscles on his arms appeared as if from nowhere, seemingly created out of thin air.
Mo Li and Meng Qi blinked, fearing they had seen it wrong.
What kind of martial arts was this? Could Buddhist martial arts be so strange, gaining thirty pounds in an instant?
—Unbelievable, even dragon veins couldn’t do that.
“Where are you going!”
Monk Yuan Zhi, having heard everything that had happened while meditating, immediately grabbed the traveling monk’s wooden staff and, with a stern shout, chased after the swordsman.
Mo Li watched the old monk’s bare-chested figure, wanting to speak but holding back.
Meng Qi suddenly laughed.
Mo Li looked at him instinctively.
Master Meng sheathed his sword slowly and smugly said, “Those two must have mocked my outfit in their hearts just now. Now they’re both bare-chested.”
