A deafening explosion shook the walls.
Yu Konghou, who had been meditating cross-legged on his bed while circulating his energy, suddenly opened his eyes. With a flick of his sleeve, a purple outer robe draped over him, and the "Ten Thousand Miles of Peach Blossoms" chimed softly as it was drawn into his sleeve along with the robe. The moment the purple garment settled on him, the door to his bedroom shattered into countless wooden splinters that shot toward him like sharp needles. A flash of sword light suddenly illuminated the shadows of these needles, casting countless dark spots behind Yu Konghou.
The sword light arrived instantly, aimed directly between his brows. Only then did Yu Konghou hear a faint, swift sound—like the moon about to set.
Lowering his brows and closing his eyes, he abruptly spread his sleeves wide. The purple robe's sleeves unfurled gracefully, deflecting the wooden needles from the shattered door. From within his sleeve, the "Ten Thousand Miles of Peach Blossoms" shot out with a ding , entangling the incoming sword. With a sidestep, he pulled it forward.
The moon-bright sword was diverted by the "Ten Thousand Miles of Peach Blossoms," its powerful True Power scattering explosively. The needles, still midair, were repelled by the sword's energy. Amidst the earth-shaking tremors, dull thuds echoed as dozens of needles embedded themselves into the walls. A few shot toward Yu Konghou's waist but struck his purple robe without piercing it, falling harmlessly to the ground.
The purple robe Yu Konghou wore was no ordinary garment.
The swordsman, clad in snow-white robes, was none other than Tang Lizhen. He glanced at Yu Konghou's robe—it was made of the same material as the "Floating Red Silkworm Gauze," only dyed purple with crushed seashell cores. His sword strike, radiant as the sun and moon, carried an imposing aura, but the "Ten Thousand Miles of Peach Blossoms" deflected it, sending it crashing into the opposite wall. The wall, already cracked from the tremors, crumbled under the blow, revealing what lay behind it.
Behind the wall, something glimmered—a massive cage.
The structure had originally been embedded within the wall, connected to Yu Konghou's chambers by a small door. Tang Lizhen's sword strike caused the wall to collapse abruptly, even splitting the cage behind it—a truly earth-shattering slash.
As the dust settled, the figure inside the cage, who had been sitting cross-legged with lowered brows and closed eyes, slowly raised his head.
Yu Konghou, holding the "Ten Thousand Miles of Peach Blossoms," stood to the side with a faint smile.
Tang Lizhen's sword resembled a pool of autumn water, its blade finely inscribed with a line of small characters: "In life, where is one not parted from the crowd?" This sword, named "Parting from the Crowd," was one of Qu Zhiliang's youthful blades. Originally part of a set of four, the other three had broken, leaving only this one. Qu Zhiliang had it reforged by a master craftsman and renamed it "Parting from the Crowd," likely as a tribute to memories.
But later, Qu Zhiliang discarded it.
What transpired in between remains unknown to later generations.
How the sword eventually ended up in Tang Lizhen's hands is also a mystery.
Yet "Parting from the Crowd" remained a formidable weapon.
With this weapon in hand, Tang Lizhen had just delivered a full-force strike, shattering the hidden cage behind Yu Konghou.
The figure in the cage slowly lifted his head.
Tang Lizhen took a deliberate step back.
This step positioned him, the cage's occupant, and Yu Konghou in a triangular formation.
The man in the cage was none other than the Mad Orchid Without Conduct.
In Tang Lizhen's calculations, the Mad Orchid Without Conduct and Yu Konghou should have already exhausted each other in battle. Once Yu Konghou realized his power was being exploited by the Mad Orchid, he would surely fly into a rage.However, Yu Konghou had locked Kuang Lan Wuxing in this bizarre iron cage, yet it seemed he hadn't subjected him to much torture. In fact, Kuang Lan Wuxing's martial prowess had only increased rather than diminished. Slowly raising his head, the sleeves of his robes fluttered around him as a scorching surge of internal energy radiated outward, as if invisible flames were blazing fiercely in the void.
After he lifted his head, Tang Lichen could see clearly—Yu Konghou had pierced his ears deaf and affixed a string of silver bells to each ear.
With Kuang Lan Wuxing’s wild, ghostly beauty, the silver bells dangling from each ear appeared both flamboyant and eerie. Yu Konghou had done this for two reasons: first, to ensure Kuang Lan Wuxing could no longer hear Tang Lichen’s deadly zither music, and second, even if Tang Lichen had some strange method to make Kuang Lan Wuxing perceive the music despite his deafness, the silver bells nailed to his ear bones would disrupt the melody, preventing his escape.
Now deaf, Kuang Lan Wuxing’s mind had long since descended into madness. He could no longer hear the life-draining notes of the zither, nor could he distinguish between Tang Lichen and Yu Konghou. Sitting cross-legged, his left hand gripping a long halberd, he slowly raised his head, his chilling eyes fixed on Tang Lichen.
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