With a sharp crack.

Xuanwu’s fist was caught in mid-air by a single hand — open-palmed and still, the fist striking the center of that palm and advancing no further.

The palm released a burst of force, and the fist was actually pushed back, its momentum reversed. Even Xuanwu’s feet stepped back involuntarily.

“Su Ruye!”

Xuanwu’s eyes went wide as he roared at the scholar in green: “I’ve been fighting you all these years and never once beaten you — but I’m still going to fight you!”

Then came another punch.

The scholar took a step back. The fist chased after him. As he retreated, he raised his hand and pressed two fingers lightly against the top of Xuanwu’s fist, and the fist dropped downward — and drove itself into the ground with a thunderous crack, leaving a crater in the earth.

Li Chi saw this and his eyes narrowed.

To use an opponent’s force and redirect it — deployed to such a degree of refinement: this man called Su Ruye was frightfully powerful. Among all the supreme masters Li Chi had ever encountered, he perhaps stood at a height above all the rest.

From what he had just witnessed, Li Chi formed a judgment: this man’s power was roughly on par with the one he knew as Master Chu.

Li Chi had seen for himself how strong Xuanwu was. Cao Lie had also told Li Chi that among the top existences in the Cloud Mist Chart, the four highest were the ones called Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise.

And Azure Dragon Su Ruye was the pinnacle of that pinnacle.

Master Chu’s martial art had reached the realm of great simplicity in the great way — one might say he had no techniques, or one might say his every move and gesture was a technique. He had even attained a state in which he carried no aura whatsoever, appearing to the eye like an ordinary person.

Su Ruye’s light press of two fingers had redirected the full raw force of Xuanwu’s fierce and domineering punch into the earth. This too was the great simplicity of the great way.

“Damn it all!”

Xuanwu swore and charged forward again.

“Stop fighting.”

Nihao stepped forward quickly and caught Xuanwu by the arm. “That’s enough.”

Xuanwu froze. He turned to look at Nihao. Nihao drew a slow breath and released it: “I’ll go myself.”

Xuanwu froze again.

Nihao’s foot touched the ground lightly and she rose like a falling leaf, spinning in a flowing arc, launching a chain of palm strikes at Su Ruye.

But against Nihao, Su Ruye no longer even blocked — he only dodged, continuously.

The grace of their two forms was so exquisite that it looked less like combat and more like a dance performed in tandem.

Gao Xining watched and watched, and forgot to eat her sunflower seeds.

Then she felt a tickle in her palm, looked down, and saw that Li Chi — while watching the fight — was reaching into her hand and taking sunflower seeds to eat.

Xuanwu walked back with a sigh, his expression extraordinarily complex.

Li Chi could see clearly enough that when Xuanwu had thrown himself at Su Ruye, it was in anger, not hatred. If it had been hatred, those two punches would not have been aimed at Su Ruye’s face.

He probably just wanted to land two solid punches on that handsome face — ideally knock out a tooth, or bloody that nose.

“Master Sun, please sit.”

Li Chi gestured to the stool beside him.

Xuanwu’s given name was Sun Guiyin. In the days of the Cloud Mist Chart, he and White Tiger Nie She had been the closest of companions. Nie She was known as the Blade Tyrant, and he was known as the Fist Tyrant.

After Nie She had jokingly started calling him “Turtle-Hiding,” the name had spread through the Cloud Mist Chart — fittingly echoing his title of Black Tortoise.

“Are you all right?”

Gui Yuanshu asked with some concern.

Sun Guiyin shook his head: “I’m fine…”

He fell silent for a moment after those two words, then gave a somewhat rueful smile: “It’s not just that I’m fine — truly, there’s nothing here that concerns me.”

Gui Yuanshu patted him on the shoulder, unable to think of what to say for a moment.

Call old Sun pitiable? He wasn’t pitiable. Because this was his own choice. He harbored no claim or desire toward Nihao — he simply wanted to stand watch.

If he had believed he could replace Su Ruye as the man in Nihao’s life, and stood guard over this woman while she never gave her heart to him — then yes, he would be pitiable.

But old Sun was a man who appeared stubborn, yet stubborn in principle. Anyone who pitied him probably could not understand his kind of openness.

“How long will those two keep fighting?”

Gui Yuanshu asked.

Old Sun said: “If Su Ruye keeps yielding to her like this, they can go on indefinitely. It’s happened before — they fought until Nihao vomited from exhaustion.”

Gui Yuanshu already knew how powerful old Sun was, so this left him quietly shaken. Old Sun had said Nihao was stronger than him — yet Azure Dragon Su Ruye was still letting her win. Did that not mean Azure Dragon’s power far surpassed old Sun’s?

“Who exactly is this man?”

Yu Jiuling muttered to himself nearby.

Old Sun thought Yu Jiuling was addressing him, so he replied: “You know that long, long ago — before the founding of Dachu — there existed in the martial world what was called the Twin Swords of the North and South?”

Yu Jiuling shook his head. He had no idea what the Twin Swords of the North and South were — but the Twin Scoundrels of the Dao Path, he knew those two: both little chubby ones, one was Little Zhang Zhenren and one was Peng Shiqī.

Peng Shiqī had returned to Zhongnan Mountain a while back. No telling when he’d be back.

Before that fellow left, he had shared drinks with Yu Jiuling. Yu Jiuling had asked him when he was going to change his name to Peng Shiba.

Peng Shiqī had said with a touch of sorrow, it’s already been over two years. Looks like eighteen is not to be.

Yu Jiuling had said, don’t be so sad about it. When you’re sixty, maybe you’ll be Peng Shisan — no, maybe even Peng Qi.

Old Sun asked again: “You don’t know the Twin Swords of the North and South. But do you know that the founding emperor of Dachu was once the disciple of the man considered the greatest swordsman in the world?”

Yu Jiuling shook his head again. He still did not know.

He only knew that the founding emperor of Dachu had come from the martial world and held a very high standing there, with the power to call upon the allegiance of all with a single word.

Old Sun said: “In the final years of the Zhou dynasty, a swordsman arose — by the name of Su Mugē. One sword, unmatched under heaven. In those days, he stood at the highest point, with no one even halfway up the mountain. So the martial world came to call him the Immortal Sword of Eternal Song.”

“Su Mugē once said that there were three things in which he was first under heaven: his swordsmanship and his friends were two of them. But what he was most proud of was his capacity for wine. His friend said this was the one boast Su Mugē ever inflated — for Su Mugē’s tolerance for wine was utter rubbish.”

Old Sun paused for breath. Li Chi, who was sitting nearby, had been an excellent audience, and promptly offered him a cup of tea. Old Sun accepted it, moistened his throat, and continued.

“Su Mugē was too strong — so strong that he no longer knew his own limits. There was no reference point. Whoever crossed blades with him was cut down in one stroke.

“So he left the martial world and disappeared without a trace. Some said he had sailed away across the sea. Others said he was simply living in seclusion somewhere along the Eastern Sea — because the woman he loved most dearly had always cherished watching the ocean sunrise.”

Old Sun took a sip of tea and continued: “The founding emperor of Dachu was a disciple of Su Mugē’s descendant. That sword-path master was named Su Tao, and he had only two disciples in his lifetime — one was Yang Fǔjiān, and one was his own son Su Huachen.”

He looked at Yu Jiuling and asked: “Now do you understand why the Dachu Emperor’s sword dared to call itself the first sword under heaven? In truth, that was not the Yang family’s swordsmanship — it was the Su family’s swordsmanship.”

Li Chi suddenly understood.

He looked at old Sun and asked: “Does Su Ruye have a younger sister?”

Old Sun nodded: “I’ve heard him mention it. He does have a younger sister. What she was called, I’ve forgotten.”

Li Chi said quietly: “Su Xiaosū.”

*Heaven’s exiled immortal passes like a startled swan —*

*not a match for the mortal Su Xiaosū.*

So the wife of Master Wu was of such extraordinary lineage.

Old Sun nodded: “Right, right — that was the name… The Su family. Su Huachen trusted his martial brother far too much, which is rather pitiable.”

A man like Yang Fǔjiān — after establishing a dynasty and ascending the throne — how could he ever again allow someone who could threaten him to remain at his side?

Su Huachen was the Su family’s direct heir. Perhaps his swordsmanship was even above Yang Fǔjiān’s.

Old Sun said: “He used poisoned wine to ambush Su Huachen. On the road home, halfway there, the poison took hold. It is said Su Huachen laughed three great laughs, and then breathed his last… Fortunately the Su family had survivors. They went into hiding. After that, there was no more word of any Su family member for several hundred years.”

He looked toward Su Ruye: “Until this madman appeared.”

After saying this he added one more line: “He really is a madman.”

Yu Jiuling said dismissively: “There are plenty of madmen. We have no shortage of them on our side. Once you get acquainted, you’ll see — every variety you can think of.”

Old Sun shook his head: “He’s different.”

Yu Jiuling grew curious: “How did his madness start?”

Old Sun fell silent for a moment. His gaze drifted, as though recalling something.

He slowly exhaled and said: “One night I saw him standing under a tree, looking up at the moon. I asked what he was thinking about. He pointed at the moon and said he could see someone walking on it with bouncing steps.”

Old Sun sighed: “I said at the time — isn’t that just a rabbit? The legendary rabbit in the Guanghan Palace — doesn’t it walk with bouncing steps?”

Old Sun glanced at Yu Jiuling: “He told me it was white-colored, but not a white rabbit. And he said it wasn’t now — but in the future. Perhaps a very, very long time from now.”

Yu Jiuling laughed: “That’s not madness — that’s hallucinations.”

Old Sun said: “At first I thought so too. Later, we went out to sea together. Some people from Sang Country, far beyond the Eastern Sea, came — skilled in strange and exotic martial arts — and stole from our Central Plains a great treasure called the Kaihuн Cauldron. We two learned of it and went to intercept them.”

“On the ship, he looked down at that fathomless sea and had another episode… He said he could see, beneath the water, an incomparably enormous iron fish swimming in the very deep depths. It could move through the water at great depth, yet its body did not move, its tail did not move, it had no eyes — but it had a strange large nose.”

Yu Jiuling tried to picture in his mind what that iron fish must look like, yet could not form a clear image.

Old Sun said: “Later we brought back the Kaihuн Cauldron. After slaughtering the strange martial arts warriors Sang Country had sent, he looked at the corpses and had another episode. He said these people would one day run rampant across the Central Plains, killing in numbers beyond counting. Then he shook his head and said — no, that’s wrong. Suddenly gone.”

Old Sun sighed: “I asked him what had suddenly gone. He said Sang Country had suddenly gone. There would be no Sang people running rampant in the Central Plains.”

Yu Jiuling looked at Li Chi and swallowed with difficulty: “Boss — what do you make of this?”

Li Chi shook his head. He had no way to explain it either. To call it hallucinations — yet it did not quite sound like hallucinations.

Old Sun went on: “I asked him — one moment you say there is, the next you say there isn’t. Which is it?”

Old Sun exhaled heavily once more: “He didn’t answer me. Suddenly he raised his hand and pointed far out to sea and asked — do you see it?”

“I asked him what he saw. Because I truly saw nothing.”

“He asked me: can you not see a young man, crouching on the back of a great whale as it charges through the waves?”

Old Sun looked at Li Chi: “I looked. Truly, there was nothing — only crashing waves.”

—