Yu Furen watched as Tang Lici wielded his bronze flute, thinking to himself that the rumors of Tang Lici being able to counter Liu Yan's Sound Assassination Technique were indeed true. The strange sound produced was no different from Liu Yan's sound assassination—clearly a technique from the same school. As Lin Shuangshuang's swords danced like serpents, Yu Furen, being a swordsman himself, found his attention involuntarily drawn to Lin Shuangshuang's swordplay, despite his initial hope for Tang Lici to end the battle swiftly. The more he watched, the more engrossed he became. Tang Lici parried the attacks of Lin Shuangshuang's dual swords with his flute, and Yu Furen's mind grew increasingly clear. Soon, his vision focused solely on their movements and techniques—no matter how swift or unpredictable, he could perceive every detail with perfect clarity. In those brief moments, his understanding of martial arts deepened significantly.
A crisp metallic clang shattered the balance of offense and defense. The serene clarity in Yu Furen's mind abruptly fractured, leaving his thoughts blank. All he could hear was a rapid series of sharp, rhythmic metallic clashes—not the sound of weapons colliding, but a deliberate sequence of notes that struck his ears and reverberated painfully in his chest, as if the vibrations were too much to bear.
Lin Shuangshuang's dual swords met Tang Lici's fierce counterattack head-on. The bronze flute struck the swords, each blade resonating with a different timbre. Tang Lici advanced eight steps, while Lin Shuangshuang was forced back ten. The eerie, music-like strikes reverberated through their very bones. After retreating those ten steps, Lin Shuangshuang wiped the blood from his lips with a bitter laugh. "A fine flute! Truly a fine flute! In thirty-eight years, I've never heard such a flute! Tang Lici, what kind of martial art is this?"
Tang Lici smiled faintly, his fingers still wrapped around the flute. "I thought—you should have heard this tune before, and even suffered under it, no?" He brought the flute to his lips, whispering against it. "With the foundation of the Ghost God Dual Swords, you shouldn't have retreated ten steps—unless... you feared what might follow this melody. So—you were afraid." Lin Shuangshuang sheathed his green sword with a sharp motion, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Nonsense!" he spat. Gripping his remaining sword, he lunged forward, refusing to concede but also denying Tang Lici another chance to strike the dual blades. Tang Lici's lips touched the flute, and an impossibly soft note drifted out. The rhythm and cadence matched the earlier metallic strikes perfectly, yet for some reason, the actual melody was subdued and low. Yet this gentle sound, once heard, seemed to choke the breath from one's lungs, oppressive to the extreme.
Yu Furen felt dizzy upon hearing it, his inner energy churning violently as he struggled to stay upright. His vision darkened. Lin Shuangshuang, bearing the brunt of the attack, coughed up a mouthful of blood but pressed forward, his swordplay unrelenting. Tang Lici lowered the flute's pitch further, nearly silencing it, yet the suffocating pressure only intensified. Yu Furen could no longer withstand it and collapsed to the ground. Lin Shuangshuang's silver sword drooped, nearly slipping from his grasp. Just as both men fought desperately against the flute's assault, a shadow flickered among the trees—a masked figure in black leaped out, seized Lin Shuangshuang, and tapped two acupoints on his back before releasing him. The moment Tang Lici's flute fell silent, Yu Furen exhaled in relief. When he focused his gaze, he saw Tang Lici staring intently at the black-clad figure, his brow slightly furrowed.The Sound Assassination Technique relies on the practitioner's mastery of musical rhythms and the listener's comprehension of the melody to stir the oscillation of their own true power and vital energy, counterattacking the dantian and heart meridians. However, the black-clad figure who appeared in the forest pressed two acupoints on Lin Shuangshuang's back, preventing the surge of vital energy from reversing into the heart meridian. Though this sealed half the power of the Ghost God Dual Swords, it also saved his life and disrupted the Sound Assassination Technique. Who was this person? Yu Furen gripped Little Peach Red tightly—this was undoubtedly the same black-clad figure who had appeared during the battle at Good Cloud Mountain, the one who had never revealed his true face and vanished midway. Without question, he was from the Dissolute Shop.
For someone from the Dissolute Shop to intervene and save Lin Shuangshuang—indeed, the sixth sword of the Central Plains Sword Association, Lin Shuangshuang of the Ghost God Dual Swords, was not free from ties to the Dissolute Shop. A chill ran through Yu Furen's heart: If it was the Dissolute Shop who had captured Chi Yun, how could they possibly imprison him in the Camellia Prison? Unless—unless that person held significant influence among the righteous factions of the martial world, or unless... even the warden of the Camellia Prison was involved. The implications were too vast. The path from the foot of the mountain to the Camellia Prison was not long, yet it felt as distant as a thousand mountains and rivers—visible but unreachable.
In the forest, Tang Lici and the black-clad figure remained locked in a silent standoff. Lin Shuangshuang held his silver sword, a cold smirk on his face, as if mocking Tang Lici: Now that your Sound Assassination Technique is useless, what else do you have left? Tang Lici held his flute, his lashes slightly lowered. The moonlight cast shadows across his usually gentle features, now sharp and cold. "A remarkably composed master," he remarked.
The masked figure did not respond, his piercing gaze visible even through the veil. He raised his right hand, assuming a preparatory stance—a clear indication that he intended to join Lin Shuangshuang in blocking Tang Lici's ascent. "I've seen you once before—today is the second time," Tang Lici said. "If I still can't recognize you by the third time we meet, then you truly are a master of disguise." He extended his copper flute. "That is, if you even get a third chance." At these words, Lin Shuangshuang sneered, as if Tang Lici were spouting nonsense.
Yu Furen suddenly turned his head at the sound of measured footsteps approaching through the trees. Tang Lici sighed softly as a disheveled figure emerged from behind, carrying a sword—none other than Yu Qifeng, who had miraculously survived the explosion at Sword Manor.
Lin Shuangshuang, the black-clad figure, and Yu Qifeng now formed a triangular encirclement around Tang Lici and Yu Furen. A bitter smile flickered across Yu Furen's face—in such a formation, not even an ant could slip through.
"Let's begin," Tang Lici said softly, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "Tonight, those who wish to kill me surely number more than just the three of you." Lin Shuangshuang let out a shrill laugh. "Hah! They say Tang Lici is peerlessly intelligent. So, who do you think would be the best candidate to kill you?" Tang Lici smiled faintly. "Let's fight first. Once it's over, whatever the outcome, we'll accept it." Yu Qifeng rasped, "Such boldness!" His gaze darkened as he turned to Yu Furen. "Will you fight me?"Yu Furen's face turned deathly pale. "You—I have something to say to you." Yu Qifeng pointed his sword at Yu Furen, coughing, "I told you to kill him, yet you escorted him all the way here... Cough... Your filial piety is nothing but hypocrisy, just lies to deceive me! You unfilial son!" Yu Furen trembled with rage. "You... It wasn't Tang Lici who planted explosives in your Sword Hall and reduced you to this state—it was Hong Guniang! You're already disgraced. If you continue colluding with the Dissolute Shop, you'll only be used until death! Even losing your sight and disfigurement couldn't wake you up? Do you think killing Tang Lici will restore your vision? Or return you to the prestige and status of the Sword King?" Yu Qifeng lowered his sword, using it to support himself. "Cough... What do you know, you unfilial wretch? I'll even kill you—"
Before he could finish, Tang Lici calmly clasped his hands behind his back, his bright eyes narrowing slightly as a gentle breeze stirred his silver hair, his demeanor serene. Yu Qifeng's dark, cane-like sword suddenly thrust forward, its momentum severing the strands of Tang Lici's hair mid-air. The sheer arrogance and force of the strike resembled Raging Orchid No Trace's eight-foot-long sword, yet surpassed it in sheer grandeur. At the same time, the black-clad man's hands, light as drifting willow catkins, pressed toward Tang Lici's back. Earlier, Tang Lici had called him a "master of the Wudang Sect," to which he had remained silent. Now, this palm strike—soft yet profound—confirmed his deep mastery of Wudang's orthodox Mianzhang (Cotton Palm). Lin Shuangshuang pointed her silver sword coldly at Yu Furen's chest, her green blade poised ambiguously, its intent unfathomable.
As the Sword King's blade and the Cotton Palm attacked simultaneously, Tang Lici pivoted, countering with a palm strike of his own. A crisp snap echoed as his palm met the black-clad man's. The latter let out a surprised grunt, retreating half a step as his robes fluttered. Tang Lici's palm strike was vast and unyielding, its power pure and profound, leaving no room for deception. Meanwhile, Yu Qifeng's sword thrust forward, only to be deflected by Tang Lici's flute with a resonant ding that reverberated for hundreds of feet, startling all who heard it. Yet neither the black-clad man nor Yu Qifeng were ordinary opponents. After a momentary setback, their coordination sharpened—blade and palm strikes growing ever more relentless. Tang Lici parried each assault with his bronze flute, holding his ground effortlessly against two masters. Witnessing this, Yu Furen's heart swelled with valor. "Make way!" he shouted, his Little Peach Red flashing brilliantly as he engaged Lin Shuangshuang in battle.
Under the moon's slanting light, dozens of eyes watched the fierce struggle from the shadows of the dense forest. Dozens of black longbows and short arrows were drawn steadily, inch by inch, soundlessly, until they were nearly at full draw.
Their arrows were aimed not only at Tang Lici and Yu Furen—but at every inch of the small, two-zhang-wide clearing in the woods.The sound of "ding-ding-ding" rang out incessantly. Tang Lici, facing the increasingly coordinated attacks from Yu Qifeng and the black-clad man, gradually shifted to a defensive stance. The clashes between his copper flute and their swords grew shorter, his blocks more urgent and rapid—each motion a sign that the blades were drawing ever closer. Yu Furen longed to assist, but even Lin Shuangshuang, operating at only half her usual strength, was no easy opponent, leaving him no room to divert his attention.
In that fleeting moment, the black-clad man struck out with a palm strike aimed squarely at Tang Lici’s back. Before he could even exert force, Tang Lici let out a muffled groan and staggered forward a few steps. The black-clad man froze—how had Tang Lici been injured when he hadn’t even applied force? Before he could make sense of it, dozens of black arrows whistled through the forest, all aimed at the stumbling Tang Lici. The stray arrows forced even the black-clad man, Yu Qifeng, and Lin Shuangshuang to raise their weapons in defense.
Seizing the moment, Yu Furen suddenly felt a tight grip around his waist—Tang Lici had seized him and, with a movement swift as a startled swan, soared past the trio of the black-clad man, Yu Qifeng, and Lin Shuangshuang, diving straight into the dense woods.
"Ah!" The archers hidden in the forest had already loosed their arrows; there was no time to nock another volley. Realizing the ruse, the black-clad man roared, and together with Yu Qifeng and Lin Shuangshuang, unleashed a combined strike—three swords and a palm—aimed at Tang Lici’s retreating back. In the darkness, Tang Lici’s white robes made for an unmistakable target. Yu Furen paled—who in the world could withstand an attack from these three? Though prolonged combat would have led to defeat, this reckless charge only hastened death!
Before his thoughts could fully form, a thunderous "whoosh" erupted. The trio’s swords and palm struck not flesh, but a vast expanse of crimson fabric that had suddenly billowed into the air. The material, neither silk nor satin, was slippery yet resilient. The black-clad man withdrew his palm, while Lin Shuangshuang’s twin swords pierced the fabric—yet left not a scratch. Even Yu Qifeng’s formidable strike only managed to punch a walnut-sized hole in the cloth. Sensing danger, the three retreated as the red fabric fluttered away, vanishing into the woods with Tang Lici.
At the moment of their assault, two enormous, symmetrical swaths of red fabric had unfurled behind Tang Lici’s white robes—impervious to blades and infused with an overwhelming surge of inner True power, they completely obscured the trio’s vision, like a pair of enormous crimson wings suddenly sprouting from his back. Not only had the fabric absorbed their combined strike, but it had also deflected the hidden arrows from the forest. Its nature was a mystery—light as air, yet it vanished with Tang Lici in an instant.
"What was that?" Lin Shuangshuang gasped in shock. The black-clad man shook his head in silence. Yu Qifeng coughed a few times before sneering, "Heh! So Tang Lici carries such a treasure—no wonder he acts without fear. With that thing shielding him, blades can hardly harm him. To kill him, we’d have to abandon weapons and rely on fists alone."
Lin Shuangshuang’s voice turned sinister. "If it were armor, how could it be so vast and long? That was clearly just a piece of cloth." Yu Qifeng shot him a cold glance, understanding his thoughts, and replied icily, "True. If you could get your hands on that red cloth, you could craft at least two suits of armor—worth a fortune."
In Lin Shuangshuang’s eyes, greed flickered to life.In the dense forest, the red cloth behind Tang Lici billowed as he surged forward. The long, wide fabric flared up and then settled, wrapping around him in several loops without him even turning his head. The white of his robes was concealed, blending seamlessly into the darkness of the woods. Yu Furen, firmly gripped by his powerful hand, was dragged along as they raced toward the mountain peak. His mind reeled with shock—when had Tang Lici detected the arrow formation in the forest? And where did he get the confidence to withstand the combined assault of three opponents? What was this red cloth that had suddenly unfurled from his back?
"Floating Red Silk—a unique fabric unmatched in this world," Tang Lici suddenly said softly, as if reading his thoughts. "Impervious to blades and swords. Only Yu Qifeng's blade could leave a mark on it." Yu Furen patted his hand, signaling that his injuries weren’t severe and he could keep up with the pace. Tang Lici released him, and the two sprinted side by side. "So you had already planned an escape route," Yu Furen remarked. "This silk can neutralize the force of Wudang’s Soft Palm and dispel the Sword Qi of the Ghost God Dual Swords—truly remarkable." Tang Lici smiled faintly. "It’s just very long. When infused with my True Power, it can stretch over a hundred feet. Wudang’s Soft Palm isn’t a ranged attack—what effect could it have from such a distance? The same goes for the Ghost God Dual Swords."
As the Floating Red Silk billowed outward, propelled by his True Power, Tang Lici had already dashed forward with Yu Furen in tow. The red silk obscured their vision, causing the trio’s coordinated strike to miscalculate and miss entirely. A momentary spatial illusion, a split-second error—it nearly birthed a legend in the Martial Arts World. Yu Furen exhaled sharply. "You were gambling on luck." Tang Lici smiled. "Indeed." Yu Furen pressed, "What if you had failed? What if they weren’t fooled by the silk and pursued immediately?" Tang Lici replied gently, "Besides gambling, I also know how to fight to the death."
Fight to the death? Yu Furen sprinted silently, the question resurfacing in his mind: Was this a man who would brave any danger, even sacrifice his life, for the sake of righteousness?
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