Among the heroes of Haoyun Mountain, Zheng Yue, the "Jade Prince" who was as renowned as the "Star Prince" Qi Xing, was neither exceptionally skilled in martial arts nor outstanding in character. Even his once-proud handsome face was merely average among the many talented youths of Haoyun Mountain.
Even for critical missions like the night raid on Piaoling Meiyuan to seize the Bi Lianyi, Lady Hong had never considered including him.
Yet on this dark and windy night, when Cheng Wenpao and Gu Xitan faced the rampaging Lan Wuxing—who had absorbed eighty percent of Yu Konghou's True Power—and suffered a crushing defeat under the venomous flames of his battle halberd, it was not Tang Lici who came to their rescue at the brink of death, but Zheng Yue.
Zheng Yue was trembling all over.
His grip on his sword was tight. Lan Wuxing had taken a sword strike to the chest from Cheng Wenpao and a palm strike to the back from Gu Xitan, yet he appeared unscathed, still resembling a demonic fiend.
And Zheng Yue… Zheng Yue had only come out of indignation. He couldn’t bear that Xu Qingbu, a third-rate character—less skilled than him and far less famous in Jiangnan—had been chosen to accompany Cheng Wenpao on this mission while he was left behind. So under the cover of night, Zheng Yue, clad in black and armed with his sword, had sneaked in alone.
Along the way, he saw that Piaoling Meiyuan had been torn open by falling rocks, the breach left unguarded. Advancing deeper, he encountered no resistance and eventually stumbled upon the battlefield where Cheng Wenpao and Lan Wuxing were locked in fierce combat.
The moment he arrived, he witnessed Cheng Wenpao thrust his sword into Lan Wuxing’s chest, the resulting shockwave nearly blowing Zheng Yue away. Lan Wuxing retaliated, his torn sleeves swirling with faint black energy as he struck Cheng Wenpao in the ribs. Both men staggered back, wounded—Lan Wuxing bleeding profusely, Cheng Wenpao sent flying and crashing heavily into the distance.
The difference was, despite the sword wound in his chest, Lan Wuxing stood firm, advancing step by bloody step toward Cheng Wenpao.
Cheng Wenpao, struck by that palm, struggled several times before barely managing to rise. As Lan Wuxing closed in, Gu Xitan—already severely injured—lay sprawled on the ground. Just as Lan Wuxing was about to crush him underfoot, Cheng Wenpao, unable to endure it any longer, mustered the last of his strength, dashed forward to scoop up Gu Xitan, and retreated.
Lan Wuxing strode forward through the blood, suddenly accelerating—his Ascension-enhanced True Power granting him inhuman speed—as he lunged downward toward the crown of Cheng Wenpao’s skull. His halberd had shattered, his fingers charred and skeletal from overusing the "Ghostly Pearl Breath," yet they still conjured black, venomous flames as he struck down at Cheng Wenpao.
Cheng Wenpao raised his sword to block—only for the blade of Hanjian Qishuang to shatter with a crisp snap, the hilt flying from his grip as he was sent reeling backward. Even as he was flung through the air, he shielded Gu Xitan, his sleeve flicking out to deflect the shattered fragments of his own sword to spare his junior brother.
Then both men crashed to the ground, unable to rise again.
Lan Wuxing flicked away the remnants of Hanjian Qishuang with a sweep of his sleeve and raised his hand to deliver the final blow.
At that moment, Zheng Yue, standing in the distance, roared, "Stop!"
He leaped forward, sword drawn, placing himself between Lan Wuxing and Cheng Wenpao.He didn’t know why he had rushed out. He had only seen Cheng Yinpao refusing to yield even in the face of death, still struggling to protect Gu Xitan. He had only seen the "Frost-Bitten Sword" shatter on the spot, and in a sudden surge of bloodlust, he had drawn his sword and charged forward.
Standing before two of the greatest martial artists of the era.
It seemed he knew what he was doing.
And yet, it seemed he didn’t.
Kuang Lanwuxing paid no heed to his shout of "Stop!"—he was deaf to begin with, and even if he had heard, he wouldn’t have spared Zheng Yue a second glance. With only the slightest pause, in the span of a breath, he was already before Zheng Yue, his deadly fingers descending toward Zheng Yue’s head.
Zheng Yue, after all, had made a name for himself in his youth. He swung his sword at Kuang Lanwuxing’s wrist.
With a sharp crack , the blade struck Kuang Lanwuxing’s wrist as if hitting ironwood, leaving only a thin cut on the charred skin—a wound that didn’t even bleed.
Zheng Yue had poured all his strength into that strike. His face paled in shock, but his second sword thrust still aimed straight for Kuang Lanwuxing’s chest. He didn’t retreat—he had no time to retreat, nor had he ever considered it. If he stepped back, Kuang Lanwuxing’s palm would land squarely on Cheng Yinpao and his junior brother. There was no time to think about whether he was overestimating his own strength. One strike had failed, so he launched another—at that moment, nothing else existed in Zheng Yue’s mind.
Beneath his feet lay the shattered remnants of the Frost-Bitten Sword.
All he knew was that his own sword had not yet broken.
Cheng Yinpao coughed up a mouthful of blood with a wah sound. He tried to shout for Zheng Yue to run, but no voice came out.
In his arms, Gu Xitan slowly regained consciousness. Seeing Zheng Yue’s back, he murmured, "Zheng… Young Master Zheng?"
With a thud , sand and pebbles rained down around them. In the dimming vision of Cheng Yinpao and Gu Xitan, Kuang Lanwuxing seized Zheng Yue’s sword, twisted it into fragments with a flick of his wrist, and then clamped his hand around Zheng Yue’s throat.
Then something shot through the air, wrapping around Kuang Lanwuxing’s neck. A bloody line erupted across his throat.
A surge of energy followed, and Cheng Yinpao and Gu Xitan both blacked out. Faintly, they heard the sound of someone—or perhaps several people—collapsing heavily to the ground.
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