When Meng Qi saw Mo Li again, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Who was that person carrying a huge bundle?
No matter what someone looks like, if they’re carrying a bundle big enough to cover their entire back, constantly glancing around in the woods and avoiding people, they’d look like they were fleeing from something.
Mo Li was already doing well; anyone else might have looked like a turtle.
—Did a fish leave, and a turtle come back?
What’s going on?
What’s in that huge bundle? Could it be opium? Isn’t that supposed to be burned?
From the size of it, you could fit a child in there.
But Doctor Mo doesn’t need to carry a child in a sack around with him!
Meng Qi was torn. He wanted to go over and see what was happening, but there was still an unresolved situation with Ayanpuka in front of him.
At the peak of martial arts mastery, a fight becomes this exhausting. If someone doesn’t want to fight and is intent on escaping, it’s not necessarily easy to stop them.
But Ayanpuka was injured; he couldn’t escape. After this intense battle, his inner strength was depleted, and he was desperately slowing down his moves. Meng Qi happened to be watching Mo Li, so the once blurry, fast-paced battle of sword shadows and gusts of wind had slowed down, and the two figures were now clearly distinguishable.
Meng Qi struck with a sword. Ayanpuka, seemingly too exhausted to dodge, had a thin piece of flesh cut from his right shoulder, blood flowing freely.
The Xiliang people, who had been shouting and yelling, suddenly froze, stunned.
They unconsciously stared at the battlefield, their voices stuck in their throats, realizing only then that their throats had become hoarse from shouting.
The fight had gone on for too long.
It wasn’t what they had expected.
Years ago, Meng Qi had entered Mojie Temple and fought for three days and nights. But that was against many people, a battle of attrition for three days and nights.
Ayanpuka had mastered the “Heavenly Demon’s Form,” but after all, he was just one man.
Yes, the Xiliang people, whose minds were clouded, suddenly realized. Ayanpuka’s martial arts were indeed extraordinary, and he was the most talented individual in the history of Mojie Temple. But even if he was far superior to the monks and the Dharma Kings of the past, it didn’t mean he could defeat Meng Qi.
“Impossible! The ‘Heavenly Demon’s Form’ can take on a hundred enemies at once, mortals can’t match it… this is impossible.”
The speaker was an elderly man dressed as a monk, trembling, his speech slurred.
“The Zanpu is injured, why doesn’t the Zanpu use the ‘Heavenly Demon’s Form’?”
Other Xiliang people also asked in disbelief.
Those who understood martial arts, and those like the elder who had studied the martial arts classics of Mojie Temple, couldn’t answer. Their confusion only deepened.
In their desperation, they began to think hard.
Who would be unafraid of the ‘Heavenly Demon’s Form,’ to the point that Ayanpuka couldn’t even use it?
Only Buddha… or demons.
They recalled the things this Teacher Meng had done in the Chu Dynasty, such as requiring monasteries and Taoist temples to hold land according to their scale, taxing any excess land, forbidding monks from employing tenant farmers to collect land taxes, and forcibly returning monks and Taoists without proper credentials to secular life. He had also tormented the alchemists who went to Taijing to sell elixirs and claim immortality techniques, to the point where they nearly lost their lives.
—Wasn’t this the living demon king from the scriptures who destroyed Buddhism and Taoism?
To encounter such a “Heavenly Demon,” not even a divine descendant like Zanpu could withstand it!
The Xiliang people began to panic, and this fear exploded when Ayanpuka and Meng Qi fought their way onto a lower rooftop, illuminated by the firelight.
Because they saw Meng Qi’s face.
It was definitely not the face of an old man.
“Mara! Heavenly Demon! Papiyas!”
Some of the elderly Xiliang people, who had faithfully read and recited the scriptures day and night, cried out in madness.
The younger ones were not as blindly devoted, but Ayanpuka was clearly no match for Meng Qi, and this Teacher Meng appeared as if he had found the secret to eternal youth. This frightened them as well.
“Run!”
In their panic, someone shouted, and the group confusedly rushed toward the dock.
After running a short distance, they remembered they had no boat. Someone gritted their teeth, turned around, and started tearing the doors off houses.
As long as they could row, a door could be thrown into the water and used as a small raft. As long as the person on top wasn’t too heavy, it wouldn’t tip over right away.
Others simply jumped into the water, trying to swim down the river. The lucky ones might escape this area and find a secluded little islet to hide in among the reeds, while the unlucky ones would get tangled in the underwater weeds not far from shore.
The river became chaotic, resembling a flock of ducks flapping about.
Ayanpuka, changing from his earlier weakened state, wielded his blood bone mace and fiercely struck Meng Qi’s zhongqing sword. Using the force of the blow, he stepped on a large banyan tree to his left and retreated swiftly, running faster than a rabbit.
The shoulder wound had been intentional; feigning weakness had been an act. Ayanpuka, realizing there was no other way, decided to further “demonize” Meng Qi.
The divine descendant could not lose to anyone, or the Xiliang people’s reverence and faith in Ayanpuka would collapse.
But what if this opponent wasn’t human?
Years ago, Meng Qi had studied Buddhist scriptures to defeat the monks of Mojie Temple, so he knew what “Mara” and “Papiyas” meant. This was akin to saying Meng Qi wasn’t even considered human.
Though not a demon, Teacher Meng had no desire to play the role of a heavenly demon or a demon king for the Buddhists: “…”
Never mind. The Xiliang people could flee, but Ayanpuka had to die.
Meng Qi reversed his sword and quickly gave chase.
Ayanpuka, relying on the terrain, had originally been confident he could shake off Teacher Meng, but the farther he ran, the more wrong it felt.
Meng Qi wasn’t following behind him. Instead, a flash of sword light suddenly appeared in front of Ayanpuka’s eyes, and Meng Qi had already taken a different river route to get ahead of him.
Once or twice could be coincidence, but three or five times was far from normal.
A chill ran through Ayanpuka’s heart. Initially, he thought there was a traitor among the Xiliang people, allowing Meng Qi to sneak in silently. But after their earlier fight, it was clear that Meng Qi was unfamiliar with the layout of the village. Yet, in the dark, he had quickly and accurately found the flower fields with wooden shelters built outside.
Usually, in an ambush, wouldn’t the first target be the warehouse storing weapons?
There were no gunpowder stores in the reed fields, mainly because it was too damp. Otherwise, Ayanpuka would have gladly let Meng Qi and Mo Li taste the traps laced with gunpowder.
His face turned ashen as he swallowed the blood rising in his throat. He darted down, using the thick reeds to conceal his movements.
Ayanpuka knew immediately—there had been a leak of the map.
—Meng Qi had access to the topographic map of this marsh and reed-filled river system!
Who gave it to him? Even the Xiliang people who lived here might not be able to clearly map all the river paths. Some areas were extremely dangerous and could only be navigated by those proficient in the art of geomancy and the “Qimen Dunjia.” After the death of Li Zhubo from the Wangli family, only Fei Cha from the Feiting tribe remained. Fei Cha was the unfortunate soul whom Meng Qi had just forcibly dragged onto the rooftop in front of everyone, and whose fate remained unknown.
A chill ran through Ayanpuka as he scanned the river and the forest.
The birds that nested on the small islets in the marsh were startled by the fire, smoke, and the chaotic flight of the Xiliang people. They flew in all directions.
Most of the birds flapped frantically for a while before diving into the distant trees, some colliding with each other in their panic, feathers flying everywhere.
In the midst of this chaotic scene, Ayanpuka quickly spotted the one bird that was different from the rest.
A small, round mountain sparrow.
Its chirping had a distinct rhythm.
It pretended to fly aimlessly, darting back and forth, weaving in circles.
It disappeared into the trees, seemingly like the others. But shortly after, the same small, round bird emerged, flying hurriedly from the front again, and Meng Qi appeared from the direction the sparrow had flown. Ayanpuka was once again forced to change his escape route.
“…”
Ayanpuka’s eyes flashed with a hint of malice.
Good. It had finally appeared!
The Feihe Mountain Dragon Vein!
It was said that this dragon vein had once taken the form of a small mountain sparrow, and after all these years, it still hadn’t grown.
A surge of emotions flooded Ayanpuka’s heart. He didn’t believe that merely revealing the Taijing Dragon Vein would draw out this foolish sparrow. The Feihe Mountain Dragon Vein must fear the stronger dragon vein. Now, this sparrow had risked its appearance to save Meng Qi, undoubtedly tricked by some sweet-talking deception.
Impressive, Teacher Meng.
You’ve tricked one dragon vein and now managed to deceive a second into loyalty.
Ayanpuka averted his gaze and silently reached for a concealed weapon.
As soon as the sparrow appeared again, erratically flitting about, Ayanpuka suddenly raised his hand.
“Jiying—”
The sparrow’s melodic chirping abruptly stopped as feathers scattered in all directions, and its plump body plummeted straight down.
Ayanpuka sneered, flicking his robe sleeve as he prepared to catch it.
This islet was slightly larger, and Meng Qi would need more time to circle around. By the time he arrived, Ayanpuka would have already captured the sparrow and hidden it within his sleeve.
Since this wasn’t a spiritual node born from a dragon vein, and they were at the foot of Feihe Mountain, the sparrow couldn’t transform into spiritual energy to escape.
It was in pain, its right wing shattered by the blow.
The mountain sparrow sensed danger closing in. It desperately flapped its wings, but couldn’t maintain balance. Its body brushed against the fabric of the robe, while a hand reached for its neck, aiming to knock it out.
“Thud.”
A muffled sound echoed as Ayanpuka’s sleeve was pierced by a sharp pebble, leaving a hole.
This was fired from a very close distance, executed with expert skill, and the hidden force burst forth silently and instantly.
The sparrow fell out through the hole and landed in a patch of water-bound calamus leaves.
The leaves couldn’t hold the sparrow, and it rolled into the mud, miserably floating on the water’s surface.
“Jiyiyiy…”
The sparrow angrily waved its still-intact wing from the patch of calamus, splashing small droplets with its twig-like legs.
Ayanpuka couldn’t reach for it again because following the hidden weapon came a dull, unpolished short blade.
Mo Li hadn’t been using the river path. He had been moving along the dense vegetation of the islets, especially after the sparrow had perched on his shoulder. The two had worked together to guide Meng Qi. Ayanpuka had only noticed the bird, but not the man.
Mo Li couldn’t get too close, as he was still carrying a large bundle.
But once the sparrow was in danger, Mo Li had no choice but to act.
The No-Edge Blade traced a graceful arc, slicing through the grass, parting the river water.
Mo Li quickly threw the bundle toward the approaching Meng Qi, freeing his left hand to wield the blade. With both blades now in hand, he stepped across the water.
The blade, with a reverse grip, sliced through the air, sending grass blades and droplets of water flying.
The force of the strike knocked down the reeds and calamus, even bending the branches of the nearby trees. The previously dark and dense river marsh was suddenly illuminated by silver moonlight. Though the moonlight didn’t reflect off the dull blade, the power of the strike sent ripples across the water, transforming into fierce, piercing energy.
The edges of the grass leaves curled, ignited by the fierce internal energy, and embers scattered into the dust.
Thus, this strike through the air, carrying silver moonlight, crystalline water droplets, and countless embers, arrived with unstoppable force.
And in that fleeting moment when moonlight, water, and embers all perished together—
The blade claimed its life.
Ayanpuka staggered backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
In a desperate moment, he blocked with his mace, saving his right arm and his life.
That strike had been too fast. From the moment Mo Li appeared, Ayanpuka had only a split second to escape the blade’s range. Ironically, it had been when Ayanpuka thought he was about to capture the Feihe Mountain Dragon Vein that he missed his chance.
“Another sneak attack.” Ayanpuka wiped the blood from his lips, muttering with hatred.
He raised his blood bone mace, this time truly ready for a life-and-death fight.
The sparrow sat dumbfounded in the puddle, half of the calamus patch having been sliced away by the blade’s wind. The feathers on its head stood on end, though it was completely oblivious, its small beak open, and its wide, glossy eyes still filled with the stunning beauty of that single strike.
Meng Qi quietly hefted the bundle in his hand. It wasn’t heavy!
The National Preceptor lowered his head, pondering. Should he open it and take a look?
Author’s Note:
Fat Mouse: Indifferent →_→
Fat Sparrow: Starry-eyed.jpg, one wing drooping, the other covering its face, wow~~~
