A sigh echoed from the inner hall of the Imperial Medical Academy. Hu Zhilian rose to his feet, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. Listening to his wife’s sobbing cries and his son’s meaningless babbling, he himself was on the verge of despair. For a long while, Hu Zhilian paced rapidly in circles, remaining silent throughout, his expression deeply troubled.

A young master spoke for him: “Imperial Physician Yuan, your medical skills are superb – you’re like Hua Tuo reborn. What exactly is the cause of this child’s illness? Can you explain it clearly?”

This young master had flowing, beautiful eyes – clearly a woman disguised as a man. It was none other than Qiong Fang. She gazed at the elderly master physician before her, none other than Yuan Chuan, the most senior divine doctor in the Imperial Medical Academy with his eighth-rank court insignia. If not for Hu Zhilian being a Vice Minister of Rites and relying on his elder brother Hu Zhixiao’s influence, he would never have been able to persuade this man to make an appearance.

Imperial Physician Yuan had been friends with National Uncle Qiong for many years. Seeing that Hu Zhilian had brought the young miss to accompany the consultation, he couldn’t very well refuse. He squinted his aged eyes and examined carefully, seeing the child before him with vacant stare, drool flowing from the corner of his mouth down his jaw, making his fur coat sticky and wet.

Imperial Physician Yuan frowned and asked: “Child, what is your name?”

“Many…”

“Hao Duo? Aren’t you surnamed Hu?”

The woman held back her tears and said with a choked voice: “Imperial Physician Yuan, this child is called Hu Zhengtang.”

Imperial Physician Yuan frowned and gestured for the family members not to interrupt. He extended his finger to lift the child’s eyelids, looking left and right, then asked again: “Child, how old are you this year?”

“Many…”

Still those same two incoherent words. Imperial Physician Yuan cleared his throat: “Who is your father?”

“Many…”

“Many fathers? How many in total?”

This was hardly a consultation – it was practically taking liberties. Hu Zhilian was mortified with anger, but being in need of help, he couldn’t protest. Imperial Physician Yuan remained unabashed and unruffled, asking again: “Child, grandfather isn’t playing riddles with you – many what exactly?”

“Many ghosts…”

“Be clearer – what ghosts?”

“Many ghosts in the well…”

Imperial Physician Yuan pondered in silence, then undressed Zhengtang and examined his entire body carefully. Suddenly, he pointed to a particular spot. Everyone strained their eyes to look and were startled to see a small red dot on his back. At this moment, Juan’er and Su Ying had also come to observe the consultation. Including the Hu family couple, there were five people in the room – ten eyes that blinked and felt a chill in their hearts.

Hu Zhilian asked anxiously: “Sir, what… what is this?”

Imperial Physician Yuan sighed and shook his head: “This is a difficult case.”

The woman burst into loud sobs, embracing the child and crying: “What evil karma! Zhengtang, what has happened to you?”

This demented child had originally been eloquent and clever, especially skilled at telling stories. But one day, while playing at a friend’s house, he casually told a ghost story, and somehow became like this ghostly appearance. Whether he was pressed by ghosts or possessed by them, apart from those words “many,” he couldn’t say anything else for half a month. This left all the adults at their wit’s end.

In today’s China, medical arts flourished with unique internal and external therapeutic methods. The Imperial Medical Academy was the holy hall of Chinese medicine, containing two sixth-rank Academy Judges and ten eighth-rank Imperial Physicians. This Imperial Physician Yuan came from a distinguished family, had served as Academy Director, and was currently the foremost veteran master physician in the capital. If even he couldn’t cure the boy, all hope would be lost.

Hu Zhilian looked deeply concerned and pleaded earnestly: “Master Yuan, please do everything possible to save him. I will never forget such kindness for as long as I live.”

Imperial Physician Yuan stared intently at that small red dot, murmuring to himself: “Medical practice is divided into medical officials, medical practitioners, and medical scholars, encompassing thirteen specialties: major and minor pulse diagnosis, eyes and oral/dental/ear conditions, women’s medicine and trauma treatment, throat conditions and typhoid fever, plus iron cautery, bone setting, massage… I’ve practiced for thirty years to become a chief physician…”

He rambled increasingly off-topic. The more Hu’s young wife listened, the more distressed she became. The child’s drool flowed more abundantly, and everyone’s temper grew shorter. Seeing Hu Zhilian’s expression darken, Qiong Fang found it inappropriate to interrupt. Su Ying smiled and said: “Imperial Physician Yuan, what exactly are you trying to say?”

Imperial Physician Yuan glanced sideways at Su Ying. Seeing this heroic youth with a long sword at his waist, he didn’t dare be presumptuous and simply coughed: “Young master, I just listed thirteen specialties – which of them did you hear that can treat this madness?”

Hearing these words, Hu Zhilian already covered his face in despair, while his wife sobbed even more bitterly. Su Ying shook his head: “Sir, that’s not necessarily true. There are many mad people throughout the world – surely they can’t all be beyond cure?”

Imperial Physician Yuan didn’t argue further, only instructing a young attendant: “Go fetch Sixth Master. Let everyone see him.”

The attendant’s mouth curved in a smile as he immediately nodded and hurried into the corridor. Juan’er and Qiong Fang exchanged glances, both women curious in their hearts. Their red lips parted to ask a question, but before any sound emerged, they suddenly heard light footsteps in the corridor accompanied by the sound of jingling bells, as if some strange creature was approaching.

The bells rang crisply like those of cats or dogs. Juan’er asked in bewilderment: “Is this Imperial Physician Yuan’s Sixth Master a cat?”

Imperial Physician Yuan raised his finger to his lips, signaling for silence. Everyone quieted down, then suddenly heard someone outside the door calling: “Master…” A black shadow swayed back and forth as it approached, and they heard him continue eerily: “Master… Master… don’t kill me…” That voice was like a ghost’s wail. Inside the room, Hu Zhengtang responded to this stimulus, immediately echoing: “Many… many… many ghosts in the well…”

The two sang in harmony like a lone soul paired with a wandering ghost, making everyone shudder with horror.

Imperial Physician Yuan sighed: “This Sixth Master is no ordinary person – he’s the sixth brother of Zhao Xingshi, Lord Zhao of Lingnan, from a distinguished family. That year, four famous physicians and I rushed to Damingfu for a consultation and brought this gentleman back to the Imperial Medical Academy. We’ve been caring for him all these years.”

Hu Zhilian was horrified and exchanged glances with his wife, asking in unison: “How long has he been like this?”

Imperial Physician Yuan counted on his fingers: “That year was the Gengwu year, and today is the Jimao year…” He stroked his beard: “After the New Year, it will be exactly ten years.”

Everyone’s faces turned pale as they cried out: “Ten years?”

Imperial Physician Yuan sighed: “You should know this man originally couldn’t even feed himself. Through our careful attention, he’s improved – now he can get out of bed and walk, and even dress himself! Sometimes he even learns to meow and bark like cats and dogs…”

Just as he was speaking enthusiastically, Hu’s young wife screamed in anguish: “My son! Your fate is so tragic!” She charged straight toward the wall, intending to dash her brains out. Su Ying, with quick eyes and swift hands, swept out his robe sleeve and pulled her back.

The young wife’s legs went weak as she fell into Su Ying’s embrace, crying loudly: “I don’t want to live! Let me die!” She desperately pressed against the handsome youth’s chest, grabbing and biting as if she would only be satisfied to die in his arms.

Su Ying was thoroughly embarrassed – the woman’s husband was right beside them, and his own lover was also watching in the room. How could he embrace and hold this woman? He immediately swept his robe sleeve to push her away, but this time she flew toward Juan’er. Unfortunately, the Nine Flowers female sect leader was absent-minded, maintaining her usual character. At this moment, she was only staring at Hu Zhengtang and didn’t notice the woman flying toward her. With a loud thud, the woman crashed into the wall and fainted.

The Nine Flowers prospective sect leader became very angry, pointing accusingly at Mount Hua’s leader in fury: “What are you doing throwing people around? Aren’t the Hu mother and son miserable enough already? Where is your humanity?”

Su Ying coughed lightly and lowered his head to drink tea, pretending not to know. Imperial Physician Yuan laughed heartily: “Gentlemen, don’t worry – trauma and injuries fall under the trauma and wound specialties. I’m most skilled at these. Even if she crashed ten more times, I could save her.”

Hu Zhilian was both furious and annoyed, wanting nothing more than to punch both Imperial Physician Yuan and Su Ying in the head. He covered his face with both hands and said through gritted teeth: “What should we do? Even you doctors can’t cure him – who else in the world can help?”

Imperial Physician Yuan took out wound medicine and cotton, personally treating the young wife’s injuries while saying: “Don’t worry. His illness doesn’t concern the living – you’ve come to the wrong place at the Imperial Medical Academy.”

Everyone exclaimed in unison: “Wrong place?”

Imperial Physician Yuan nodded: “Back then, for Sixth Master’s illness, I visited martial arts sects throughout the jianghu – Kunlun, Wudang, Emei, Shaolin – I went everywhere… According to jianghu veterans, thirty years ago, the court had a mortal enemy who practiced an evil acupuncture technique that could seal meridians and instantly cause madness and stupidity. That Sixth Master, apart from a small wound mark on his back, had no other external injuries, and his brain wasn’t damaged either. It’s identical to your son’s condition. After much thought, I believe they were both harmed by someone…”

This reminded Qiong Fang, who clapped her hands: “Lord Hu, do you still remember that letter?”

Hu Zhilian cried out and said hurriedly: “Right! It really might be someone’s doing…”

Everyone recalled the contents of that strange letter and felt a chill in their hearts. Hu Zhilian saw hope – if someone knew this martial art, surely someone could cure it. He said urgently: “Please guide us, sir. No matter who can save my son, I will reward them handsomely.”

Imperial Physician Yuan shook his head and sighed: “This presents some difficulty – how would you find someone in the Western Paradise of Ultimate Bliss?”

Everyone was greatly shocked and asked: “What do you mean by this?”

Imperial Physician Yuan said darkly: “This martial art is very evil. The only person in the world who could cure it was Master Tianjue of Shaolin Temple alone. But on the first day of the seventh month that year, he already passed away and achieved nirvana.”

Hu Zhilian wrung his hands and gnashed his teeth: “This… this is difficult…”

He turned to Su Ying anxiously: “Sect Leader Su, does Mount Hua have anyone who practices similar martial arts?”

Su Ying shook his head: “I’m sorry. Yuqing Temple specializes only in swordsmanship – we don’t practice these harmful evil arts.”

Hu Zhilian wrung his hands: “Then… it seems we can only seek help from Shaolin Temple. I’ll ask someone to find Abbot Ling Ding – perhaps he’ll help with this favor…”

Imperial Physician Yuan shook his head: “Although Abbot Ling Ding’s martial arts are high, his knowledge is limited. Only Master Tianjue in the world could cure this.”

The news that Tianjue had already achieved nirvana was like a splash of cold water. Just as they were worrying, they suddenly heard Juan’er sigh softly. Hu Zhilian, knowing well the capabilities of Mount Nine Flowers, asked urgently: “Miss, do you have any ideas?”

Juan’er smiled bitterly and seemed to want to speak but hesitated. After a long while, she shook her head and said with a rueful smile: “I’m sorry – I forgot about the court’s regulations. Pretend I said nothing.”

Hu Zhilian’s hopes were dashed and he sighed deeply: “Miss Juan! Is my son’s life something to joke about?”

Seeing Hu Zhilian’s angry face as he chattered incessantly, Qiong Fang came out to mediate: “Don’t get angry – now that we know the cause of the illness, there must be a way to treat it… In a few days, I’ll inquire for you. Perhaps grandfather knows some miraculous cure…”

Everyone spoke one after another, each offering their own opinions, while Juan’er only lowered her head in silence, seemingly lost in thought…

Inside the hall, there were sighs and long faces all around, but outside the hall was bustling with activity. The Imperial Medical Academy courtyard had been set up like a dining hall with more than ten red wooden round tables, and all fifty-eight masters were present. Originally, the emperor, hearing that both sides had fought to a draw, was greatly pleased and bestowed imperial wine and a feast, letting all the skilled fighters enjoy a fine meal. However, with insufficient servants, they had to trouble the younger disciples to run around serving as waiters.

Charcoal braziers and hot pots steamed with heat, and the lamb medicinal cuisine, meat and bones together, was truly nourishing beyond compare. A voice called out: “Add… soup.” Chen Defu carried a large teapot around asking. Point Cang sect members called out in response: “Add… meat.”

Medicine supplements weren’t as good as food supplements – martial artists trusted all kinds of tonics most, usually refining pills and making medicines themselves to seek great increases in martial power. However, no one had ever heard of anyone eating their way to become number one in the world. Instead, nicknames like “Red-faced Noble,” “Yellow-skinned Venerable,” and “Green-faced Bat” emerged from poisoning incidents.

Looking at this fresh meat stir-fried with scallions, ginger, and garlic, fragrant and appetizing, then simmered with sesame seeds, five-spice, star anise, angelica, codonopsis, and astragalus – this great tonic divine elixir was precisely the medicinal cuisine carefully prepared by the imperial physicians. “Cure illness when sick, strengthen the body when healthy” – all the masters, focused on improving their martial power, naturally rushed to grab the soup, afraid of being half a step too slow in the splashing broth.

At dinner time, the medicinal cuisine made mouths water! However, Chen Defu’s fingers holding the large water jug couldn’t move when he wanted to – seeing the soup was exhausted, he could only sigh a few times and go outside the courtyard to boil soup and water, returning to serve the masters shortly.

“Defu, Defu can’t become a master, but he’s got good fortune…” Chen Defu lay sideways on the ground, lazily fanning the fire, his eyes glancing toward the distant imperial palace. Twelve years on the mountain, martial arts poorly learned, swordsmanship without foundation – what else could he do but remain optimistically fatalistic? He led several disciples lying on the ground, everyone holding palm fans, looking lazy as they chatted casually.

This place wasn’t far from Chengtian Gate. Lying and looking into the distance, hundreds of pairs of shoes came and went – the main street was quite lively, truly worthy of being at the foot of the Son of Heaven. The people coming and going had elegant footwear – the women were court ladies, the men were celebrities, absolutely incomparable to the broken straw shoes from the countryside.

Before his eyes passed a pair of embroidered brocade shoes, goose-yellow at the tips with fur lining, and such slender ankles. Chen Defu grinned with a lecherous heart aroused, straining to look at the small feet, but unfortunately the snow-white instep was covered by silk stockings and couldn’t be seen clearly.

Chen Defu’s thieving eyes naturally looked with great pleasure. He wanted to see what the girl looked like and looked up, only to see a beautiful woman looking back at him with playful eyes – it was Sect Leader Juan. Chen Defu broke out in cold sweat – of all things to look at, he had to peek at a martial arts master’s small feet. He’d better not get beaten to death. Licking his lips and tongue, he laughed dryly: “Sect Leader Juan, aren’t you eating the hot pot?”

The young woman was indeed Juan’er, but she didn’t know Chen Defu’s mind wasn’t proper and that he was staring at her small feet. Juan’er crouched down with a smile: “How hard you’re working, serving those masters like this.”

Chen Defu wasn’t successful at sword practice or martial arts, but he was quite skilled at management. He said hurriedly: “Not at all, not at all – being able to serve all the brothers… oh…”

That “brothers” ended in a long sound as his soul flew away. It turned out that when Juan’er crouched down, her upper garment’s collar tilted forward slightly, and if thieving eyes dared to be bold, they could glimpse the crystalline skin of her chest. Chen Defu first closed his eyes tightly, chanting “Amitabha Buddha” in his heart. He wanted to look but didn’t dare, didn’t want to look but wasn’t willing – just as he was torn between wanting to look and being captivated, eager to open his eyes, he suddenly heard a clear cough and a voice saying with a smile: “Defu has really worked hard. I’ll have Ying reward you with something later.”

Without needing to look, he knew who it was. Before him came a folding fan inscribed with “Purple Cloud Pavilion” – Mount Hua’s future Supreme Sect Leader had arrived. Seeing her dressed as a man, crouching on the ground with her upper garment’s collar also quite open, Chen Defu didn’t have the guts of a bear or leopard to stare at the fire while laughing dryly: “Just doing my duty – Young Pavilion Master shames this humble person.”

Qiong Fang closed her folding fan and tapped his forehead with it, laughing: “Being human requires proper conduct – see no evil, and don’t bring shame to your sect.”

Chen Defu’s face swelled with embarrassment. Though darkened by charcoal, it still showed red. Seeing Juan’er still didn’t understand, Qiong Fang took her hand and they stood up together, laughing: “It’s all big men inside – don’t mix with them. Let’s go stroll on the street.”

After the two ladies left, Chen Defu naturally relaxed, thinking: “That was close – nearly got beaten to death.” He picked up his palm fan and fanned lazily, his mind full of wicked thoughts as he looked toward the street again to see if there were any bargains to be found.

Another embroidered shoe came before him, but this shoe was wide and fat, quite bloated. Chen Defu’s mouth curved in a smile, thinking: “Fat feet mean a fat person – eight or nine times out of ten, this woman must be plump.” Thinking this, he glanced upward and indeed saw a robust woman passing in front of the Imperial Medical Academy, followed by several maids and servants – likely the wife or concubine of an official family.

Chen Defu laughed heartily, thinking: “Correct! Look at my judgment – I could practice wisdom swordsmanship.” After that woman passed, another pair of plain straw shoes approached. Since it was the depths of winter, anyone wearing straw shoes was either a monk or someone poor. Sure enough, he saw a person with a sallow, thin face looking like a poor scholar, walking stealthily and hesitantly toward the street corner.

In less than the time of one incense stick, dozens of people had passed by, some wearing military boots, others cloth shoes, but most were of fine quality – it seemed the capital was prosperous with far more wealthy nobles than poor people. Chen Defu fanned the fire and saw another pair of black boots, likely belonging to an official. Looking sideways, it was indeed a clerk from the Imperial Medical Academy, probably coming for shift duty.

Chen Defu yawned – what a boring evening, but finally the soup water had come to a boil. He stretched lazily and was about to get up.

Just then, another pair of shoes appeared on a pair of large feet, only seven feet away from him.

Noble people had shoes with shiny, gleaming surfaces – you could tell their status at a glance. Poor people had shoes with nailed tips and worn leather – you could also tell their empty pockets at a glance. But strangely, this pair of shoes was impossible to guess the owner’s background. The shoes were grayish-yellow, narrow in front and wide behind, somewhat like military boots, but the material wasn’t cattle or sheep leather, and the color and shape weren’t like cloth shoes or straw sandals either – he didn’t know what they were made of.

Having looked at shoes all day and seen hundreds of pairs, he’d never seen this style. Chen Defu was slightly puzzled and naturally took a few extra looks.

Suddenly, mottled yellow showed at the heel, making him involuntarily widen his eyes.

These were iron shoes – large boots made of steel and iron.

Chen Defu opened his crooked mouth wide, frantically scrambling to his feet. He showed his upper and lower rows of yellow teeth as he looked up at the iron shoes’ owner.

Though he only saw the back, his first impression was that this person was very tall – at least two heads taller than himself.

When Chen Defu went up Mount Hua at age nine, he had measured his height – then he was just over four feet. After that, he measured yearly until age eighteen. Although he hadn’t measured his height in six years since then, going in and out of the Mysterious Pass gate daily, he inevitably looked at himself in the bronze mirror there. That bronze mirror was about one zhang two chi tall with a crack that was said to have been made by Tianyin Daoist, located exactly seven feet from the ground – just a bit higher than Chen Defu. So Chen Defu knew clearly that his height was six feet nine inches – a light, graceful build. Ordinary people under six feet were considered short, over eight feet were called tall. Chen Defu was neither tall nor short – he was average.

But the black-clothed figure’s back was really too tall. Chen Defu had to crane his neck until his spine ached before he could see the person’s full form. He estimated the person before him was at least two heads taller than himself – he should be over nine feet tall.

Nine feet… Court military generals wielding heavy iron and gold sabers all had tremendous strength, and these fierce generals mostly claimed to be eight feet tall. Someone taller than eight feet – this was his first time seeing.

In the evening twilight, that person’s shoulders were broad as mountains, arms thick as pillars, his mighty silhouette like a heavenly god descended to earth. Chen Defu was full of curiosity – he wanted to see if that person’s appearance was equally imposing.

As if hearing his inner expectation, the black-clothed man slowly turned his head to glance sideways at him. And because of this glance, Chen Defu panicked and stepped back, nearly crying out.

No face. The black-clothed man was dressed for night travel with his facial features completely hidden behind a black mask. Entirely in black with a black hood, except for a pair of brilliant, sparkling eyes, nothing could be seen.

Deep black, dark black – even those imposing thick eyebrows were all black. The black-clothed man was like an evil ghost appearing at the wrong time – an evil spirit that should emerge at midnight but chose this bustling evening to show himself. That mourning-like attire further startled the joyful atmosphere of the approaching New Year.

Chen Defu was truly too shocked. He had to rub his eyes – he needed to confirm whether he was seeing things or truly seeing a ghost.

He wasn’t mistaken, nor was he seeing things, because the common people on the street began discussing among themselves – everyone had seen him.

The black-clothed man walked toward the Imperial Medical Academy, then stopped at the entrance. Chen Defu grimaced, not knowing what this person intended. Was he here for medical consultation? But why cover his face? Was he here to deliver medicine? Then why dress like this evil ghost?

Under the astonished gazes of the street full of people, the black-clothed man looked up at the sky and slowly raised his fan-sized right palm. In the setting sun, Chen Defu stared intently and saw the man held a teacup in his palm. His manner seemed as if he were inviting Heaven to drink wine.

What was he going to do? Chen Defu was full of confusion, still guessing the black-clothed man’s intention, when suddenly he heard a crisp crack. Porcelain shards scattered all over the ground – the teacup had already shattered, crushed to pieces by the black-clothed man’s bare hand.

With a clang, a black shadow shot up into the sky. The black-clothed man, shaped like a great roc spreading its wings, kicked up with his right foot, raising it high above his head, directly toward the Imperial Medical Academy’s signboard.

With a thunderous crash, three black shadows fell to the ground. The one in the middle was a human figure, while on either side fell broken wooden boards – on the left was the character “Imperial,” on the right was “Academy.” The “Medical” character in the middle had already become powdered wood chips that could never be pieced together again.

This was simply inhuman… The Imperial Medical Academy’s beams were deep and gates high – that signboard was at least two zhang five chi from the ground. Yet this black-clothed man, without even an inch of running start, relying only on an original standing jump, shot up like a rocket toward the gate’s lintel, kicking over his head and easily smashing the signboard. Such amazing skills frightened Chen Defu into grimacing with his whole body trembling.

The black-clothed man removed the sword from his waist and slowly hung it on his back, then began moving forward. Chen Defu gasped and wheezed – shocked into fear, feared into awakening, quickly understanding his situation wasn’t good. He hurriedly shrank behind the fire stove, immediately huddling and trembling with five or six Point Cang disciples. Everyone watched helplessly as the black-clothed man stepped into the Imperial Medical Academy, yet not one dared to sound an alarm.

Squeak! The iron kettle before them had already boiled – that scalding hot teapot seemed to laugh loudly, mocking Chen Defu and the others’ cowardice and timidity. It spewed steam like a battlefield bugle, roaring angrily at the sky.

Water was boiling, fire was burning – the real “Demon Star Fighting Five Passes”…

Battle was about to begin!

How many people were in the Imperial Medical Academy at that time? According to post-incident roll call estimates by Gao Tianwei, including Qiong Fang and Juan’er who arrived later, there were sixty-four people total inside the gates. Excluding clerks, physicians, and court officials, the rest were all martial arts figures. These masters belonged to different sects, combining Point Cang, Nine Flowers, Jade Pure, Shandong Divine Blade Sect, Hebei Zhu Iron Spear, and Purple Cloud Pavilion – six Chinese sects! Including the five major gangs from the northern desert, there were eleven different groups present.

The Imperial Medical Academy was a court office divided into three courtyards. The first courtyard was naturally the vermillion main gate, inside which was a bluestone floor plaza where fifty-eight people were gathered around braziers drinking wine at that time! Seated by seniority at nine tables, the main table seated Hai Chuanzi, Yu Chuanzi, Chi Chuanzi, Song Tongming, Hulin Tehan, Wuye Mingyu and others! Generally, the appearing generals and sect leaders mostly ate at this main table. The other eight tables were in corners of the courtyard. Though there were many guests, the spacious venue didn’t seem crowded.

The second courtyard was the office – also where the Imperial Medical Academy conducted daily business and consultations. This place was separated from the first courtyard’s main gate by twenty zhang, connected by a long corridor. At that time, Zhe’er Dan was chatting with an imperial physician fluent in Mongolian inside the hall! There were also two clerks present to accompany them.

The third courtyard was the inner hall storing precious medicinal materials, called the People’s Welfare Pharmacy. At that time, Qiong Fang and Juan’er had left first, leaving only a few people in the hall – two were husband and wife, one was a physician, and one was a child. Four people without the strength to tie up a chicken, but there was also Su Ying in this hall, making this courtyard like an iron wall.

Chen Defu was the first person to see the back figure. But the first person to encounter that black-clothed man was this unlucky fellow.

When the signboard crashed down, Chi Chuanzi rose from the main table and walked to the main gate – he was looking for a place to urinate.

Among the Seven Heroes of Point Cang, the sect leader was eldest brother Hai Chuanzi, while Yu Chuanzi who appeared today was the third brother. This Chi Chuanzi who rose to urinate happened to be in the middle, ranking second. However, those familiar with southwestern affairs all knew that when it came to martial arts, Chi Chuanzi actually surpassed the sect leader and was an outstanding figure.

But no matter how high one’s martial arts, when a mortal gets old, the body still has some problems. This Point Cang master had suffered from frequent urination in recent years. Usually when traveling, he seldom drank water, but at banquets with fresh lamb soup and imperial wine, it was hard to abstain. Plus with fellow heroes at the same table full of flattery and compliments, each cup of wine sent down naturally filled his belly with liquid. Having drunk so much, Chi Chuanzi had to excuse himself from the table to find a secluded corner for relief.

It was precisely when the signboard crashed down that it nearly struck Chi Chuanzi, allowing him to see what appeared to be a wall.

Strangely, though he wasn’t drunk, a high wall had appeared at the entrance. Chi Chuanzi looked puzzled as he stared at the solid black wall less than three inches before him. That wall was covered in black cloth, appearing sturdy and broad, almost blocking his entire view. Looking at the broken signboard split in two on the ground, Chi Chuanzi suddenly realized that what stood before him wasn’t a wall, but a strong man – a truly powerful individual.

Chi Chuanzi was over sixty with forty years of jianghu experience. Though shocked, he calmed down instantly. He drifted back three feet to size up this powerful figure who wasn’t a wall. It was a giant like a door god.

Broad shoulders, tall stature, wearing a black hood – this person also carried a sharp blade on his back. Except for a pair of brilliantly gleaming eyes, this person was unwilling to reveal anything else. Without doubt, the black-clothed man harbored hostile intent.

Facing a great enemy, Chi Chuanzi wasn’t foolish enough to greet him. He raised his precious sword and assumed a defensive stance, then with the authority of a jianghu veteran, demanded: “You! What are you doing here!”

The black-clothed man must have had some purpose in kicking down the signboard – Chi Chuanzi naturally hoped to understand. But this person neither replied nor attacked. The towering black-clothed figure said nothing, lowering his head to look at the Point Cang veteran who was a head shorter, his gaze extremely calm.

“You! Don’t you know!” Chi Chuanzi’s mouth curved in a cold smile as he reached toward the man’s chest, “that you’ve caused great trouble!”

This was absolutely true, because half of the fifty-eight masters in the venue had already stood up, with one hundred and sixteen eyeballs staring toward the main gate. Everyone’s expressions showed curiosity, but those gazes only carried surprise and bewilderment – not a single eye showed fear, not even the slightest bit.

The black-clothed man still stood at the main gate, his brilliantly flashing gaze showing neither joy nor anger as he calmly looked back at the one hundred and sixteen eyes in the venue. His gaze also showed no trace of fear, as if facing an empty, deserted plaza.

“You! Have trespassed into the ghost gate! You must…” Chi Chuanzi pointed to the ground and angrily declared, “Kneel! Down! And! Apologize!”

“Kneel down and apologize” – each word enunciated with hoarse fury. Such persuasion wasn’t excessive. The opponent had kicked down the Imperial Medical Academy’s signboard with clear provocation. Kneeling to beg forgiveness would settle the matter – already a bargain. It was better than drawing swords to kill him on the spot or having dozens surround and beat him to death.

The black-clothed man surprisingly didn’t reply or kneel. He simply faced Chi Chuanzi and stepped forward. Chi Chuanzi’s martial arts were far from ordinary – especially his sword-drawing speed, which surpassed even the sect leader. Seeing the black-clothed man step forward, he instantly pushed upward with his left thumb, opening the sword hilt, and laughed wildly: “Heaven has a road… you don’t take it!”

“Hell has no gate!” Using the Southwest’s finest sword-drawing technique, his right hand dropped to grasp the hilt and roared: “You force your way in!”

Swish! The four-foot blue blade left its sheath. The black-clothed man nodded slightly, and his thick right leg was already raised, looking ready to kick.

Speaking of swordsmanship prowess, Chi Chuanzi wasn’t the world’s best – he couldn’t even rank in the top ten. But regarding “sword-drawing technique,” this Point Cang leader had considerable skill. His sword-drawing speed was rarely heard of in the world. He relied not only on wrist strength but also on his sect’s secretly transmitted special scabbard. With just a flick of his left thumb, the spring mechanism would activate, and the long sword could leave its sheath without using the right hand. Relying on this secret sword-drawing technique, the Seven Heroes of Point Cang could walk the jianghu and find their footing in the martial world.

The Point Cang leader grasped his long sword and laughed heartily. The four-foot sword light flashed as he swung with an angry roar: “Fool! Take this!”

As the sword light flashed out, the black-clothed man’s right foot was already raised high. Suddenly his figure moved and the man began rapidly retreating – he was actually backing down. Chi Chuanzi floated in mid-air and laughed at the sky, watching the black-clothed man put on airs but ultimately succumb to his own illustrious reputation.

The black-clothed man at the gate grew smaller and more distant, his figure increasingly blurred. Chi Chuanzi was still laughing loudly, about to speak again, when suddenly he heard a loud clang. The black-clothed man’s body fell over, becoming head-down and feet-up. Chi Chuanzi looked puzzled, not understanding what happened, when suddenly his back felt burning hot and he heard this alarmed cry: “Daoist Chi Chuan, are you alright?”

This Point Cang master had knocked over hot pots, smashed plates and bowls, and rolled into the crowd with fresh blood flowing from his mouth, yet he was still laughing uncontrollably. More than ten pairs of hands tried to intercept and pull him back, but not one could stop him.

The black-clothed man’s right foot remained kicked high over his shoulder, still raised in mid-air. The situation had suddenly reversed. All the banquet guests had been playing drinking games and toasting, but now were silent as death. Even comic figures like Feicheng Guai and Suanpan Guai had stopped their wine cups. With Chi Chuanzi’s jianghu seniority, he couldn’t withstand a single kick? Everyone looked toward the main gate with shock or curiosity.

The black-clothed man lowered his right leg, patted the mud and ash from his black pants, and once again walked into the venue. With several crashes, several wine cups from the main table smashed to the ground. Instantly, four tall, strong figures stood up abruptly, and the round table’s wooden chairs were moved aside.

“Friend, stop!”

A low, cold voice rang out. The black-clothed man stopped – before him stood a great tiger blocking his path. This person had a Soaring Eagle precious saber at his waist, arms crossed, standing at an angle before him. His gaze carried slight killing intent as he coldly sized up the black-clothed man.

This person wore armor and was about the same height as the black-clothed man, with thick shoulders equally as broad. His fierce brows and upright eyes revealed his identity – this was the iron hero who had fought the three great Mongol masters, Young Master of Shandong Divine Blade Sect, “Heavenly Hero” Song Tongming.

As the giants faced off, three black shadows darted out from the plaza, silently coming to surround them. On the left was Jin Chaqin, on the right was Hulin Tehan, and behind was Zongze Siba. With the four beasts – bear, tiger, lion, and leopard – surrounding him, the black-clothed man was isolated like a wild dog.

Though Song Tongming came from a hereditary noble family, he had loved fighting since childhood, preferring street brawls and specifically tangling with hooligans and local tyrants. Seeing the black-clothed man’s rude behavior of forcing his way through the main gate, he wasn’t particularly shocked. Instead, it aroused his youthful, wild arrogance.

Young Master Song slightly raised his right palm, signaling everyone to step back – he wanted to handle this madman alone.

“Brother…” Song Tongming shook his broad shoulders, then stepped forward to stand face-to-face with the black-clothed man. He lightly waved his right hand, patting the opponent’s chest, and smiled contemptuously: “I’ll f*ck… your mother.”

The first sentence was the most vicious insult – this was the provocative tone of street fighting. An inexplicable fire would burn up, and both sides could form a blood feud that would last a hundred years. Song Tongming provoked wildly, but the black-clothed man didn’t respond with curses, as if he were deaf and mute, or a foreigner who couldn’t understand others’ greetings to his mother.

Song Tongming smiled coldly and reached to grab the opponent’s collar. The black-clothed man also slowly extended his left hand toward Song Tongming’s right palm. In an instant, their palms grasped each other, both holding steady in mid-air. Song Tongming sneered: “Unfilial grandson wants to compare hand strength?”

The black-clothed man’s gaze was ice-cold, still not replying, but his fingers began to tighten with force. Song Tongming chuckled coldly. The Divine Blade Young Master was over thirty, had faced ten thousand troops on battlefields, and fought groups of heroes in the jianghu – he had never feared anyone. Instantly, he also exerted his powerful internal energy.

The brute force battle began. The black-clothed man’s left palm against Song Tongming’s right palm, ten fingers interlocked in deadlock. In this kind of wrist strength contest, the taller person would naturally have an advantage. However, Song Tongming’s massive build was about the same height as the black-clothed man – neither had an advantage.

Between breaths, suddenly the “Divine Blade Young Master” roared fiercely: “Divine Blade Force!”

The scene before them was quite straightforward – he wanted to break the black-clothed man’s right wrist, then hand this uninvited guest over to Point Cang to vent Daoist Chi Chuan’s resentment.

The orthodox mental technique activated, power flowing down. Though he had some internal injuries, they didn’t interfere with using “Divine Blade Force.” Moreover, with countless strong allies nearby, there was no need to hold back strength. “Divine Blade Force” erupted, and the black-clothed man’s wrist retreated backward – this was a sign of impending defeat.

Song Tongming laughed heartily and roared again: “Divine Blade Force!” Instantly, another surge of powerful internal energy emerged. Strange force pressed tightly, causing the black-clothed man’s wrist to retreat further. If this person didn’t kneel to release the force, his wrist would break. Song Tongming chuckled coldly – the more arrogant and rude this person was, the more he wanted to greatly humiliate him. Unless the black-clothed man knelt on both knees, he would never let it go.

“Divine Blade Force!” The violent roar passed a third time. Taking advantage of the momentum, he pushed forward with his wrist. The opponent didn’t respond by kneeling. The black-clothed man’s gaze remained calm as he slowly closed his eyes – he was about to counterattack.

The black-clothed man’s left hand began pushing forward, inch by inch. Earth-shaking force transmitted back. Song Tongming’s nose showed angry marks as he gritted his teeth, instantly roaring at the sky: “Divine Blade Force!”

This was the final wild roar. Suddenly his knees bent with a crisp crack – the Young Master’s knees bent downward, sinking an inch.

This person’s wrist strength far exceeded imagination. Song Tongming was shocked and furious, roaring continuously. Wild waves and angry howls drowned out the sound from his knees, but though he roared himself hoarse, his knees’ downward trend didn’t decrease at all – faster and faster, more and more bent. His wrist pain was about to break, completely suppressed by brute force.

The Divine Blade Young Master held a hereditary noble title. Song Tongming could lose, could die, but his knees absolutely could not touch the ground. Song Tongming broke out in cold sweat. Regardless of face, he quickly raised his left hand to support his right wrist, hoping to maintain the situation with both hands’ strength.

He supported his knees, but what about his spine? Why was it bending more and more, his body leaning further back? He would be broken in two…

Suddenly hearing a sharp shout, someone from the sidelines entered to rescue. A large hand grabbed toward the black-clothed man’s face – it was Mongol second-in-command Jin Chaqin, also the only uninjured master in the entire venue.

The northern famous hero entered the rescue with tiger roars. The “Great Scorpion King’s” solitary sting reached out, already deadlocked with the black-clothed man’s right palm. Jin Chaqin’s martial arts were high and his nature fierce as fire. He was not only left-handed but born with special gifts – his left hand’s strength was nearly five times that of his right hand, earning him the name “Solitary Sting.” Hearing his thunder-like roars, particularly intimidating, with this person’s assistance, Song Tongming would surely regain balance and escape the humiliation of kneeling.

Three big men competed in strength. The black-clothed man used both hands, left and right, each contending with one person. His left hand’s five fingers tightened, firmly gripping the Divine Blade Young Master’s right palm, while his right hand resisted the Great Scorpion King’s fierce solitary sting. Song Tongming, with assistance, gradually straightened up, about to rally and turn the situation around, when suddenly the black-clothed man’s eyes flashed with fire. Silently, with a crisp crack, Song Tongming screamed and sank to his knees again. Jin Chaqin’s upper body also became uncontrollable, gradually leaning backward.

Only now did everyone in the venue realize the black-clothed man’s martial arts were extraordinarily high – absolutely beyond what single combat could withstand.

Another angry roar came from the sidelines. Zongze Siba couldn’t bear seeing his colleagues humiliated. With a wild roar, the “Kaiping Double Blade Society” chief helmsman displayed his ultimate skill. Instantly his body spun like a ball, flying up with both blades striking simultaneously toward the black-clothed man’s head. Seeing the black-clothed man unable to free himself, both hands each wrestling with a savage bull, he definitely couldn’t dodge the spinning double-blade assault – it was already a dead end.

At this moment, the black-clothed strange guest leaned forward, twisted both hands, and with two crisp cracks, Song and Jin screamed in agony – their wrists were twisted and dislocated. Then a black shadow flashed. The black-clothed man performed a somersault, his back heel drawing an arc. With a heavy impact, Zongze Siba’s vision went black as his back suffered a severe blow, immediately falling face-down. Song Tongming and Jin Chaqin were foaming at the mouth. All three collapsed softly to the ground, unconscious.

The black-clothed man released his palms, calmly patted his clothes, and stepped forward again. Facing the powerful enemy, Hulin Tehan and Wuye Ming Wang exchanged glances. Knowing they were no match, they hurriedly retreated. Yu Chuanzi, Chi Chuanzi and others clustered around their leader, urgently fleeing toward the gate. The rest, including Feicheng Guai and Suanpan Guai, also frantically dodged. Everyone in the venue had chattering teeth, all making clicking sounds.

The first courtyard’s masters had been completely routed. The disparity in strength was too great. The black-clothed man was like a tiger among sheep. The fifty-plus people drinking around the braziers were all intimidated – not one dared to move. Even a tiger-like hero such as Song Tongming had fallen – who would dare block his strike?

I dare to block. My name is Zhe’er Dan.

The sounds of the falling signboard and fighting continuously reached the offices, alarming the clerks and physicians inside. Hearing disciples frantically rush in to report, the “First Mongol Master” came to the end of the long corridor. He crossed his arms, coldly observing the plaza situation through the garden’s white snow and tree branches.

At the corridor’s far end, movement occurred. Low, slow footsteps sounded as a black shadow appeared. It was the nameless strange guest.

From this end to that end, about two hundred feet apart, the two great masters gazed at each other across the twenty-zhang corridor.

Though not knowing who the visitor was or understanding his intentions, the black-clothed man had only one path to take.

Zhe’er Dan pointed out that path. He didn’t speak, only raised his arm horizontally, pointing at the enemy to signal him to retreat.

The opponent ignored him, simply standing motionless, his gaze beneath the black mask full of provocation.

Zhe’er Dan smiled coldly and suddenly shouted: “Dayin!”

Dayin meant battle begins. Both feet stomped heavily as he charged forward with full force. This was the Imperial Medical Academy, belonging to China’s government offices. To avoid frightening the physicians, Zhe’er Dan intended only to fight decisively – he wanted to eliminate the black-clothed assassin in the corridor.

Zhe’er Dan was tall with long legs, taking extremely large strides. Casual steps covered ten feet, and at full charge, his momentum was swift as a flying horse. In terms of running speed, this person was unmatched in the northern frontier – no other master could compare.

After only two steps, twenty feet passed in the blink of an eye. Just then, the opponent stepped out with his right foot, also beginning to charge directly toward him. Zhe’er Dan roared like a tiger, then took five flying steps. In a turn of the eye, another fifty feet passed. Suddenly, less than three zhang ahead, a huge black shadow flashed! The enemy was right in front!

Incredible – the opponent had covered one hundred feet in an instant, exactly twice as fast as him!

Though shocked, Zhe’er Dan didn’t panic. This foremost master of the northern desert had experienced hundreds of battles, neither arrogant nor discouraged, best at assessing situations. Seeing the opponent had practiced supreme skills, he immediately changed from attack to defense. His feet stopped urgently with a thunderous crash, his heels creating an angry pit in the corridor floor. Zhe’er Dan breathed deeply, yielding a zhang backward. His legs became solid as foundations. In moments, his left fist raised and right fist gathered at his waist. Using the “secret blade,” he employed the vicious power of “Great Black Heaven Fist” to permeate his entire body.

The opponent ran faster and faster, still flying forward. Zhe’er Dan smiled coldly, now waiting at ease for the exhausted. His left fist protected his vital points, his right fist charged with full power. Waiting for a direct punch to fly out – two feet of invisible fist force would explode on the spot, capable of shocking the nameless enemy to death.

Forty feet, thirty feet, twenty feet – with a buzzing sound, brilliant light flashed before his eyes. The black-clothed man drew a sharp blade from his back, swiftly slashing from left to right.

“Sayin!” Zhe’er Dan silently applauded – the enemy carrying a precious sword was indeed prepared.

The blade slashed with killing intent, sword light tracing a fan shape. Zhe’er Dan concentrated fully, feet unmoving, upper body leaning back urgently to avoid the blade edge. Only two inches from his nose, he used extremely strong eyesight and waist strength to dodge the enemy’s move.

The “First Master of the Northern Desert” was skilled and bold, with extremely dangerous distance and powerful moves, but he still avoided it.

In master combat, a one-inch difference could be fatal – what about two inches? Seeing the enemy’s body still rushing forward, Zhe’er Dan’s mouth curved in a cold smile. Instantly his left fist shot out like an iron cannon. “Great Black Heaven Fist” struck heavily, directly toward the opponent’s vital points. Powerful rigid force entering the soft abdomen would surely kill the enemy on the spot.

Just as he was about to succeed, the opponent’s body suddenly froze. Wood chips flew everywhere. The black-clothed man, suspended in mid-air, suddenly kicked out his right foot like a bat, hooking onto the corridor’s beam. His forward momentum dissipated and his form abruptly stopped, using miraculous body technique to avoid the fatal strike of “Great Black Heaven Fist.”

Zhe’er Dan was secretly shocked and was about to launch another attack when sword light rose again. That enemy, hanging from the corridor beam like a bat, didn’t land to reorganize his stance but attacked in an inverted position, the sword tip coming toward his throat.

Though the opponent’s moves were strange, Zhe’er Dan felt no fear and instead laughed heartily. Though there were many sword techniques in the world, only “Wisdom Sword” could make him wary – other sword techniques were beneath notice. He channeled energy into his left hand, invisible fist force striking out, intentionally clashing head-on to determine superiority in one move.

The cold sword reached one inch from his face. Zhe’er Dan’s fist force had also emerged – Great Black Heaven rigid force would instantly shatter the opponent’s long sword into dozens of pieces. Just as both sides were about to clash, suddenly the sword light faded. The opponent actually loosened his five fingers, releasing the sword hilt and letting the long sword fall straight down. The black-clothed assassin had abandoned his sword at the crucial moment.

Zhe’er Dan’s eyes widened – what trick was this person playing? Abandoning the sword meant empty hands – how would he resist his fist technique?

Could he want to surrender? The northern desert master smiled coldly. In the fighting arena, it was either life or death. Since the opponent dared draw a sword before him, he should be prepared to die miserably. Why be polite? “Great Black Heaven Fist” still struck swiftly, completely disregarding the opponent’s life.

As the fist approached, the sword had also fallen to chest height. The black-clothed man faced the enemy empty-handed – the situation was extremely critical. At the line between life and death, suddenly the black-clothed man exhaled loudly. His tiger waist twisted in mid-air as he flew up. His left foot buzzed as the toe kicked the sword hilt. With powerful force injected, the long sword shot forward like a flying arrow.

Kicking the sword with his toe – so that was it… Zhe’er Dan was secretly shocked, now understanding the black-clothed man’s intention – he wanted to win with strange moves. The northern desert master’s combat experience was extraordinary. That shock flashed by, then he immediately used internal force to drive his waist strength, urgently flashing left to avoid the directly charging sword edge.

With a thud, the long sword embedded in the corridor pillar behind him, the blade still trembling.

Zhe’er Dan had narrowly escaped death and was naturally covered in cold sweat. Just as he was about to counterattack, an incredible thing happened at this moment.

After the black-clothed man’s left foot kicked the sword hilt, his body immediately sank downward. Suddenly the black figure flipped in mid-air, head down and feet up, shaped like an inverted golden hook. Under Zhe’er Dan’s dumbfounded gaze, his right leg swept across mid-air, heavily striking the northern desert master’s cheek.

Flipping in air, turning around, switching legs – the opponent’s massive build could stay airborne this long. This was… this was…

Beyond human realm!

With a tremendous crash, Zhe’er Dan crushed the garden’s flowers and trees, rolling into the snow-covered courtyard.

The northern desert master was both shocked and angry. Though this kick was heavy, it couldn’t injure his steel sinews and iron bones. In wild fury, Zhe’er Dan flipped up, immediately tore off his upper garment to reveal his steel-like physique, and challenged the powerful enemy with a howling roar.

“The fearless are invincible!”

The lion’s roar echoed through the corridor. Zhe’er Dan, filled with killing intent, glared furiously ahead, ready to unleash slaughter, but suddenly froze in place.

How… was there no one in the corridor?

Sharp whistling sounds emerged from his feet. In his shock, a brilliantly gleaming disc appeared beside his foot. Zhe’er Dan’s mouth fell open – the black-clothed man had already drawn his long sword and silently arrived in the garden. Watching him spin with his sword like a disc, cold light flying as it cut directly toward his foot bones, there was truly no way to block it. Zhe’er Dan was shocked and furious. He roared wildly, regardless of everything, throwing a punch downward. Even if his foot were severed, he would smash that black shadow into pulp.

The fist force descended to knee height when the orb-like cold light suddenly froze. In the blink of an eye, the spherical shadow transformed, letting the Great Black Heaven Fist’s power pass by, changing from clothed shadow back into human form before Zhe’er Dan.

This assassin’s speed of movement and strangeness of techniques were beyond anything he had ever seen in his life.

Zhe’er Dan had again thrown an empty punch, and his heart turned half cold. The two men stood three feet apart, facing each other. The gaze beneath the black mask carried provocation and cold mockery. Zhe’er Dan threw caution to the wind, roaring like a tiger, about to strike with “Great Black Heaven Fist” when his opponent struck first, pressing his right palm against Zhe’er Dan’s chest.

The black-clothed man hissed with cold laughter. He raised his left palm, extended his index finger, and drew it across Zhe’er Dan’s neck. Zhe’er Dan stared in shock – this gesture was so familiar, wasn’t it his own habitual action for mocking strong enemies? He realized and roared: “Traitor!”

“Traitor!” The traitor is you. Northern people couldn’t speak Chinese well, so naturally couldn’t explain clearly. With a bang, Zhe’er Dan’s ribs were shattered, his massive body flying backward, crushing through a brick wall and rolling straight into the street.

Mongolia’s greatest master was defeated within three moves.

The black-clothed man straightened his clothing, brushed the white snow from his shoulders, and turned toward the third courtyard.

The third courtyard of the Imperial Medical Academy was called the “People’s Welfare Pharmacy” – this was also the final checkpoint of this mission.

The final general was called “Su Ying” – he was the disciple of the world’s number one and also the sole inheritor of Mount Hua’s Three Achievement Swords. With just these two titles, the Imperial Medical Academy’s final checkpoint could truly be called an “iron wall” without shame.

When the incident occurred, Su Ying was pouring tea.

His beloved Qiong Fang was arranging dinner for him, going to Chess Board Street with Juan’er. They knew he loved roasted duck and wanted to prepare it for him. Su Ying sat with a smile at the corner of his mouth, quietly seated on the long bench by the door, pouring himself a cup of warm, hot tea.

When he began pouring water, a loud crash came from the Imperial Medical Academy’s main gate, as if something had been kicked and broken. The Hu Zhilian couple inside the hall heard this, and together with Imperial Physician Yuan, they hurried out. All three looked shocked and asked in unison: “What happened? What’s going on?”

Su Ying waved his hand: “It’s nothing, you go inside first. I’ll go take a look in a moment.” The Hu couple looked frightened, holding their son as they stood by the door discussing among themselves.

Suddenly a tremendous crash came from outside the courtyard, as if something had overturned, followed by the sounds of fighting. Mrs. Hu said trembling: “This… there really is someone… could they be coming for us?” Hu Zhilian’s face turned pale, thinking of the strange letter he had received, he couldn’t help but feel afraid. What if someone really wanted to kill Hu Zhengtang?

Seeing everyone filled with fear, Su Ying remained calm and composed, still sitting peacefully pouring tea. This wasn’t because his mental fortitude was extraordinary, nor was he pretending to be leisurely, but because there were many masters in the Imperial Medical Academy. Even if assassins really had infiltrated to cause trouble, with Song Tongming, Zongze Siba, Chi Chuanzi and other strong generals outside, no matter what the assassin’s background, they should be able to stop this thief.

Whether he himself rushed to the front courtyard wasn’t important – he only feared someone might use diversionary tactics, which was the only thing to guard against.

Su Ying’s mouth still carried a smile as he quietly watched the tea water pouring into his hand. Suddenly, a strange sound reached his ears.

An angry roar. That was the battle cry of a master making his move. Su Ying’s heart trembled as he listened carefully – indeed, angry roars were truly coming from the garden ahead. The voice of Mongolia’s greatest master was deep – this roar was definitely Zhe’er Dan’s voice.

Zhe’er Dan had encountered a strong enemy. The visitor had reached the second courtyard of the office. This meant Song Tongming, Chi Chuanzi, Wuye Ming Wang and others had all fallen. The visitor had broken through the first courtyard, consecutively defeating dozens of masters in the front plaza – he must possess amazing skills.

However, Su Ying still had no intention of rising. He slowly poured tea, looking refined and elegant, because he had another reason not to get up.

Zhe’er Dan – this was his reason for not needing to rise. With this person’s peerless martial arts, he could surely let himself leisurely finish this cup of tea, then go examine the enemy’s corpse. Having such a master as a companion in danger was like sheltering behind the Great Wall – so idle it was maddening.

The tea water trickled into the cup, about eight-tenths full, when footsteps sounded twenty feet ahead. Su Ying’s heart trembled as he looked up, and suddenly a black-clothed figure appeared in his vision.

Like an evil ghost walking, that tall, tiger-like form stood at the gate of the People’s Welfare Pharmacy. Mrs. Hu immediately screamed, while Hu Zhilian was so frightened he couldn’t speak. Though the child was held in his mother’s arms, he still trembled all over, saying: “Ghost… ghost…”

Imperial Physician Yuan panicked and screamed: “Someone come! Someone come!” After shouting several times, not half a person came to respond from the courtyard. Clerks, masters, officers – all had vanished without a trace. The Imperial Medical Academy, where a hundred people had gathered, was now like a graveyard in the dead of night. Imperial Physician Yuan was terrified beyond measure and immediately fled straight into the building without looking back.

Since this black-clothed man had come, Zhe’er Dan must have suffered crushing defeat. Su Ying understood his situation was dire – if he also couldn’t hold the position, the Hu family of three would undoubtedly become sacrificial victims. His eyes slightly turned as he softly instructed: “Lord Hu, please take your wife and son inside. Without my orders, absolutely do not stick your heads out.”

The couple had been waiting for these words. As if receiving imperial amnesty, the three of them, like Imperial Physician Yuan, didn’t even say thanks before clustering around the child and rushing inside, then firmly closing the door and securing the thick, heavy door bar.

The black-clothed man stood outside the courtyard gate, motionless, using a pair of ice-cold eyes to stare at the Mount Hua sect leader. This was a terrifying scene, yet Su Ying still had no intention of rising. He sat leisurely in his chair, slowly lifting the teapot, methodically pouring a cup of hot tea, and asked with a smile: “Friend, the weather is quite cold – shall we drink tea together?”

Facing a great enemy, when the opponent clearly possessed supreme skills, yet he was calmly drinking tea – this was naturally pretending to be leisurely. Zhe’er Dan was no pushover – his “Great Black Heaven Fist” was exquisite and profound. The black-clothed man must possess amazingly miraculous martial arts, otherwise it would be impossible to determine victory within several moves.

The black-clothed man was very strong and had mysterious techniques that Su Ying couldn’t see through. However, if Su Ying wanted to strike first, he needed to anger his opponent. The more arrogant and wild the opponent was, the more he wanted to provoke him. Wisdom Sword emphasized psychological warfare – “if the enemy doesn’t fall into chaos, I don’t move.” When a strong enemy’s temper exploded, they would fall into chaos before fighting. Only this way was it possible to overcome a strong enemy in one stroke.

Su Ying lifted the steaming hot cup, lightly sipped the rich fragrant tea, and nodded continuously in praise, looking like it tasted very good. Such provocative expressions rarely failed to anger people. Whether they struck in anger, attacked first, or loudly cursed, opponents would fall into Su Ying’s psychological warfare.

The black-clothed man ignored him. Facing the provocation, he crossed his arms, his eyes fierce and cold like an angry dragon in the dark night.

Su Ying secretly nodded, thinking: “Excellent, I’ve met a master.” The opponent hadn’t taken the opportunity to attack nor raised his voice to curse – he was waiting for Su Ying to finish his tea. This person had extraordinary bearing – first, he didn’t take advantage of openings; second, he didn’t give others leverage. He was a true strong enemy.

Su Ying drank tea while sizing up his enemy. Judging by stance alone, this person was enough to overwhelm countless heroes in the jianghu. Left foot flat, right leg slightly bent and bowed back – one part agile, one part fierce. The black-clothed man was both a tangible, substantial standing high wall and an invisible, traceless storm. Such imposing aura – no wonder he could defeat Mongolia’s greatest master.

However, Su Ying wasn’t concerned – he had his own advantages.

“Victorious in eight hundred battles, martial arts revered throughout the world.” Ning Bufan used this to repel the Kunlun Sword God; Su Ying relied on this to gain fame across the four seas. Master and disciple for two generations were both renowned swordsmen. Under the power of “Wisdom Sword Pacifies Eight Directions,” he truly had no reason to fear.

The teacup was set down with a clear ring. Brilliant light erupted as the black-clothed man made his choice. He drew his long sword with amazing speed, striking directly toward Su Ying’s face.

Facing the black-clothed man’s decision, Su Ying also responded. His right wrist moved slightly as his long sword, still sheathed, pointed out. Without rising from his seat, he thrust toward the black-clothed man’s shoulder.

The opponent’s sword technique was fast, but even if it were twice as fast, so what? Without doubt, before “Wisdom Sword Pacifies Eight Directions,” there was no unbreakable ultimate technique in the world.

The black-clothed man’s sword technique was broken, his steps staggered as he retreated one step.

The black-clothed man took a deep breath. His nine-foot tall, magnificent body again lunged forward. In the blink of an eye, he executed five sword strikes. The People’s Welfare Pharmacy was filled with flashing sword light. Su Ying sat motionless, his sword tip pointing out, instantly breaking into the sword net and forcing the black-clothed man to retreat urgently.

The black-clothed man had defeated Zhe’er Dan within three moves by relying on the word “strange.” Zhe’er Dan was over sixty with extensive jianghu experience, but the more experienced one was, the more they fell into preconceptions. The black-clothed man’s skills were bizarrely unusual and absolutely couldn’t be measured by common sense, so despite the northern desert master’s deep power, defeat was inevitable.

One thing overcomes another. Before Su Ying, who “won through wisdom,” everything was adapting to circumstances. No one could catch him off guard or attack him unprepared. The stranger the black-clothed man’s martial arts, the happier the Mount Hua sect leader became.

The black-clothed man showed no discouragement and thrust with another sword. The sword tip rotated rapidly – judging by this sword’s force, the black-clothed man’s wrist strength was extraordinary, surely reaching a hundred catties, truly rare in the jianghu. Su Ying felt no fear. He watched the black-clothed man, left hand supporting his forehead, horizontal sword at his chest, lightly sweeping forward. That sword, arriving later but striking first, was already cutting toward the enemy’s lower abdomen. The black-clothed man grunted, immediately flipping and jumping up. In mid-air, he spun around, instantly standing inverted with his sword pointing toward Su Ying’s throat.

Su Ying secretly admired – this person was tall with long reach, yet his body was incomparably agile. Without such miraculous movement techniques, he couldn’t have defeated Zhe’er Dan within several moves. Su Ying was unhurried, intending to carefully observe the opponent’s martial arts foundation. He neither dodged nor avoided the incoming sword, only lightly extending his sword tip along the black-clothed man’s long sword, sweeping back.

The swords didn’t cross – it swept toward the opponent’s fingers. The stronger and fiercer the internal force attached to the black-clothed man’s weapon, the less his fingers could be preserved.

As the sword body struck toward his hand, the black-clothed man’s body trembled, as if he hadn’t expected such swordsmanship existed in the world. In the crisis, his body flipped, his left hand suddenly extended, swinging urgently backward, luckily grabbing a tree branch in the courtyard. Using the pulling force, his body retreated five feet, thus preserving his fingers unharmed.

Strength and weakness were divided; victory and defeat decided. Su Ying fundamentally didn’t need to rise. Just relying on his ability to find the enemy’s weaknesses, he could completely gain the upper hand. This match fundamentally didn’t need to continue. Su Ying smiled slightly, stretched lazily, then slowly drew his long sword: “Friend, I’m going to get serious now.”

The long sword sang as it left its sheath, cold light blazing. Though Su Ying’s expression remained calm, with sword in hand, his aura was like a grandmaster’s dignity.

If the Mount Hua sect leader wanted to kill someone, he could see blood within three moves. The two men stared at each other. Su Ying held his blue blade but still sat upright, unmoving.

He said calmly: “I’ve never killed anyone in my life and don’t want to break this precept today. I’ll give you one chance now – as long as you turn and leave, I’ll spare your life.”

Before his words finished, a black shadow flashed. The enemy seemed to have fought frantically, rushing forward regardless of everything, his long sword wildly stabbing and thrusting. Su Ying shook his head and smiled lightly. Since the opponent disregarded life and safety, why should he show mercy? He immediately raised his sword to counter-thrust. This sword showed no mercy, its position exquisite, heading straight for the black-clothed man’s throat. If the enemy didn’t abandon his sword and surrender, it would be death.

Both swords thrust at each other, each toward the enemy’s throat, but Su Ying’s sword tip’s position was exquisite, a full step faster than the black-clothed man’s. Just as blood was about to be drawn, suddenly brilliant light flashed before his eyes. He saw the opponent’s sword tip suddenly extend several times longer, inexplicably becoming a long weapon, flying straight toward Su Ying’s face.

Su Ying was greatly shocked. Seeing the black-clothed man’s long sword inexplicably extend, stabbing toward his throat, lengthened by more than three times, in his panic he couldn’t think carefully and urgently executed an iron bridge to avoid this sword. At this moment, the black-clothed man’s sword swept down, already cutting the long table in two. Su Ying saw the situation suddenly reverse and immediately flipped up and jumped.

This was the first time Su Ying had risen from his seat since the two began fighting. He exhaled a long breath and nodded: “A miraculous hidden weapon – impressive.”

He saw the black-clothed man facing downward, his eyes flashing with divine light, while the sword in his hands looked like a three-section staff, having become three segments of cold, sharp blade connected by steel wire.

Su Ying exhaled a long breath and slowly calmed himself. Wisdom Sword looked down on the world – every enemy move and weapon was within his calculations, but weapons with hidden mechanisms couldn’t be known without prior investigation. He understood that his ability to luckily survive this moment relied on solid fundamentals. Without exceptional eyesight and swift footwork, with the deadly strange move arriving suddenly, he would have long been dead.

With the black-clothed man’s divine weapon in hand, the blade reached over one zhang in length. If Su Ying wanted to win, his only path was close-quarters fighting. With a sharp sound, Su Ying struck first, raising his sword to thrust urgently, his footwork hiding the Seven Star Steps, ready at any time to press into the inner circle. Suddenly hearing a buzzing sound, the black-clothed man’s three-section blade flew over. Su Ying had already anticipated this and immediately dodged sideways, instantly advancing several feet. He relied on his exquisite sword techniques – as long as both sides faced each other in combat, the three-section divine weapon would become a burden, and victory could be reversed within one move.

The black-clothed man shot out his flying sword, two sections of cold edge circling behind Su Ying, leaving only one section of blade to block in front. That cold edge was short and sluggish, extremely difficult to resist “Wisdom Sword’s” exquisite techniques. Just as he was about to succeed, suddenly the black-clothed man’s wrist moved, the circling sword spun, the flying sword opened like an umbrella surface, spinning blade transforming into white light, the white light becoming like a gaping maw, hissing and biting toward Su Ying’s face.

The ultimate technique appeared – that sword blade could extend and rotate, the disc spinning so fast it was beyond what the naked eye could perceive. Su Ying was shocked and amazed. In his ten years walking the martial world, he had never seen such a bizarre weapon. Though he could wound his opponent, his own head would probably be half-sliced off by the sword blade. Having no choice, he had to withdraw his full move and change to defensive techniques.

Several clanging sounds passed as fresh blood flowed from his arm – he was wounded.

In ten years, he had broken countless poisonous moves and hidden weapons, but had never seen such a bizarre weapon. This was somewhat troublesome.

The black-clothed man activated his mechanism and slowly rotated the sword hilt. Watching that sword light dance and spin rapidly like a disc, his techniques unified and followed his will. The arm gripping the sword hilt continuously pushed forward and pulled back, making the disc sometimes large, sometimes small, unpredictably changing.

With a whooshing sound, suddenly hearing a great air-breaking noise, the black-clothed man struck again. The long sword extended three sections, stabbing straight toward Su Ying’s throat, forcing him to turn and dodge. At this moment, the sword tip scattered, spinning into umbrella form, again thrusting swiftly toward his cheek. In moments, like bird pecks, like fishing nets, move after move pressed forward.

Su Ying relied on footwork to dodge continuously, but several times he couldn’t react in time. His shoulders and arms were bloody, appearing quite wretched.

Seeing blood, the opponent became like a fierce lion, madly attacking non-stop.

Weapons clashed continuously, countless explosive sounds came from the People’s Welfare Pharmacy. After more than ten sword exchanges, Su Ying retreated continuously, relying on the Seven Star Steps’ mysteries to barely escape the cold edge’s pursuit.

His heels stepped on the threshold – he had retreated to the entrance of the People’s Welfare Pharmacy. This was a situation with no further retreat possible.

The black-clothed strange guest remained equally calm and cruel. He spoke no words, using his left hand to pull strings and control cords, his right hand wielding the sword with techniques. The long sword sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes spinning open like an umbrella surface, sometimes transforming into three sections of cold blade, its power covering nearly a zhang’s radius.

Su Ying secretly calculated – the strong enemy’s techniques were too bizarre. If he couldn’t break through the opponent’s weaknesses, today with one careless moment he would surely die in the capital.

Pitifully, he hadn’t yet taken disciples… if he died, the “Three Achievement Swords” would likely be lost forever…