Yu Qifeng’s residence lay beneath Feifang Mountain, at the source of Green Water Creek. The grounds covered twenty li in all directions—not large, but not small either. Within the manor were pavilions and towers, flowers and birds, fish and insects, no different from any ordinary wealthy family’s estate. In the rear courtyard of the sword manor, a patch of white four-petaled flowers had recently been planted. Shaped like butterflies, they were exceptionally delicate and beautiful, supposedly called White Butterflies.
The servant who planted those White Butterflies was a newly arrived young man with snow-white hair. It was said that when he lost his mother in childhood, he cried so sorrowfully that his hair turned white overnight and never grew back black. Everyone who heard this story pitied him—such a young, handsome youth with a full head of white hair. Fortunately, he showed no shame about it, and with his looks, finding a wife wouldn’t be difficult. Sadly, though this young man was dashing and handsome, he claimed he couldn’t read and could only tend flowers.
The ground was carpeted with white flowers shaped like butterflies, seemingly ready to take flight, set against the evening sun and birdsong—a tranquil and pleasant scene. This young man holding a flower hoe, calling himself “Snow Lord” and claiming illiteracy, was naturally Xue Xianzi. Xue Xianzi was certainly not illiterate—in fact, he not only could read but wrote beautiful calligraphy. He simply couldn’t be bothered to sign and seal a contract of servitude.
Xue Xianzi’s greatest trait was laziness, and aside from laziness, he loved only flowers and beautiful women.
These White Butterflies covering the ground were a rare variety that bloomed magnificently under his care, yet he was not the one who planted them.
The flowers were planted by a white-clothed woman of about eighteen who lived in a tower in Yu Qifeng’s rear courtyard and rarely ventured out. In his half month of tending flowers here, he had seen her only twice, and one of those times she wore a light veil over her face, though her beauty could still be glimpsed. She was an extremely elegant and refined woman, like a graceful lotus leaf standing in a lake on a misty rain day. Though elegant and lovely, she always carried an air of melancholy. Whenever she emerged from that tower, the very air would fill with an indescribable sorrow, and all joy and happiness would dissipate like smoke and clouds in the shadow of her figure.
The people of Yu family sword manor treated her as an honored guest, but no one knew her origins. Everyone called her “Miss Hong.” She never smiled, never left that tower except when traveling by carriage. In her spare time, she would sit by the tower window, gently caressing half a short flute while gazing quietly into the distance.
There are countless types of beautiful women in this world—some possess the moon’s radiance, others the willow’s grace, some the spirit of ice, others the essence of jade. But this Miss Hong was a flower of sorrow, the kind that might weep and wither away on any given day. Xue Xianzi had spent his life appreciating flowers and beautiful women. Such a beauty required careful, cautious appreciation to truly grasp her essence.
On this day, with the sunset like a painting, he was weeding in the flower garden when suddenly someone behind him said softly, “Autumn waters and plane trees fall to dusty skies, spring rain and butterflies should not yet sleep. After a year…” Xue Xianzi looked up with a smile and continued, “After a year, who waits seated in the tower, bright moon and spider silk fill the mirror’s face.” The soft voice behind him sighed gently, “Young master has fine literary talent. I see you have an extraordinary bearing and surely are not truly illiterate, yet your literary skill is like brocade, poetry flowing from your lips.” Xue Xianzi turned around to see a white-clothed woman wearing a light veil standing before him, her waist so slender it seemed he could encircle it with one hand. “These White Butterfly flowers are quite delicate. To nurture them so well, you must be a first-rate gardener.”
“To speak honestly, I once saw the young lady at Guanmen Gorge. Since then, you have haunted my dreams and I cannot forget you. So I followed your trail for a hundred li, arrived here, and sold myself to the Yu family, hoping only to see you from time to time.” Xue Xianzi spoke these words with complete sincerity. “As for other matters, I harbor no improper thoughts.” The white-clothed woman nodded and said softly, “I know. Every day I see you tending flowers here, then gazing… gazing at my window. I simply don’t understand—we’re strangers to each other, so why… why are you so kind to me?” Xue Xianzi tossed aside his flower hoe and smiled, “Miss’s beauty lies in your brows—sometimes furrowed, sometimes knitted, as if wreathed in clouds and mist. I have composed a phrase for you that I consider absolutely wonderful. Would you care to hear it?” The white-clothed woman stepped back. “What?”
Xue Xianzi wrote two characters in the air with his finger, “Nothing surpasses ‘Weeping Orchid.’ Miss’s beauty is like a weeping orchid—rarely seen in this world.” After speaking, he shook his head and swayed, murmuring “Orchid dew, like weeping eyes,” already lost in intoxication, unable to extricate himself. The white-clothed woman was silent for a while, then realized he was just a frivolous scholar and said quietly, “I may not be as wonderful as you imagine. Since you’re a scholar, why tend flowers here? You… you should go home.” Xue Xianzi shook his head repeatedly, “I haven’t even learned your name—I’d die with regrets! Moreover, miss, you’re full of sorrow, and though I’m untalented, I wish to help ease your troubles.”
The white-clothed woman smiled lightly, “My surname is Hong, Hong as in the color red.” She gently plucked a butterfly flower from her hair. “Fool, no one can help me with what troubles me. You have no strength to truss a chicken, and this place is very dangerous. Leave quickly. Take this flower—if anyone stops you on the road, say Miss Hong told you to go.” Xue Xianzi still shook his head, “In broad daylight under peaceful skies, where’s the danger? If there is danger, as a man, naturally I should protect you.” Miss Hong shook her head and said softly, “Obstinately obtuse.” She paid him no more attention, turned and slowly walked back toward the tower, thinking to herself: if he treated her half as well, no—if he would just say such words to her, even if not sincere, she’d die willingly. But he… he only had eyes for that ugly girl…
Miss Hong returned to her tower while Xue Xianzi kicked aside his flower hoe, lay back on the grass, and closed his eyes to sleep.
On a distant rooftop, someone said coldly, “This old lecher’s skill at picking flowers is really impressive.” Another person smiled, “If you say he’s picking flowers, be careful he doesn’t jump up and fight you desperately. He hates most when people say he picks flowers—he merely loves gazing at beautiful women. Xue Xianzi was devoted to his wife. She’s been dead over ten years, and he’s never touched another woman’s finger since.” The speaker was naturally Tang Lici. This day the three of them had arrived at Yu family sword manor, having just climbed over the wall onto the main building’s roof. “This old lech… old ghost’s wife has been dead over ten years? Just how old is he?” Chi Yun asked in surprise. Tang Lici said, “No one knows that. You might as well ask him yourself. Careful—guards!”
The three quickly dropped from the roof and hid under the eaves. Yu family sword manor wasn’t large but wasn’t small either—finding where Yu Qifeng might be would prove somewhat troublesome. The main building had seven floors, with the top floor uninhabited. After resting briefly, Chi Yun suddenly said, “Xue Xianzi has been fooling around here so long, he should know where Yu Qifeng lives.” Tang Lici smiled slightly, “Rather than ask him, better to ask the servants here. Just don’t cause too much commotion… like… this—” He reached out and suddenly grabbed someone from the stairway, lifting him over. With a smile he asked, “Is Sword King Yu at home today?” The man was caught off guard and opened his mouth to cry for help. Tang Lici made a “click” sound and dislocated his jaw with swift technique, then with a “snap” reconnected it, still smiling as he asked, “Where is Sword King Yu now?”
The man’s jaw had been suddenly separated and reconnected, causing extraordinary pain. A breath caught in his throat and he began coughing violently. “Cough cough… what… what…” Tang Lici said gently, “We are old friends of Sword King and have urgent business to discuss with him today.” His fingers pressed against the man’s jaw—with slight pressure he could dislocate it again. Feeling the fingertips apply gentle pressure, the man’s face went pale. “He… he’s receiving guests in the sword hall.” He pointed to a yellow building beside the main structure. “There.”
“Very good.” Tang Lici tapped the man’s head and he collapsed immediately. Chi Yun frowned, “Are these Yu Qifeng’s people? Rather pathetic.” Tang Lici smiled, “This person probably isn’t Yu Qifeng’s servant. I suspect he’s a guest.” He reached into the man’s robes and pulled out a bottle of pills that rolled onto the ground. Shen Langhun picked it up, opened it for a sniff, and said flatly, “Poison.” Chi Yun searched his waist and found a pair of short swords, “Seems to be a disciple of Qifeng Xiao family. Hiding here—could he be taking medicine?” Tang Lici opened his right hand, revealing a black pill in his palm. When he’d dislocated the man’s jaw, besides silencing him, he’d also taken this pill. He smiled, “Correct.”
“Qifeng Xiao family certainly has accumulated quite a bit of silver,” Chi Yun muttered. “Damn, what a wastrel!” Tang Lici threw the pill on the ground. “Yu Qifeng is in the sword hall. Should we go directly to him, or… hmm?” Shen Langhun said, “Take the high road!” Chi Yun said, “Of course we go through the front door. Why should I skulk about?” Tang Lici smiled, “Then we’ll each act separately.” As his words fell, Shen Langhun flickered slightly and vanished without a trace. Chi Yun appeared outside the railing—a magnificent white figure streaking straight toward the sword hall entrance. Tang Lici remained standing on the main building, watching Shen Langhun’s ghostly form slip through a skylight into the rafters, lurking silently. Chi Yun landed and the sword hall’s great doors flew open. A short sword shot out. Chi Yun flicked his robe and the short sword hummed as it met resistance, spun backward, and flew straight at Chi Yun’s waist. Chi Yun neither dodged nor evaded. With a clear “clang,” the blade struck something at his waist and both fell to the ground. Someone inside called out, “I wondered who this uninvited guest might be—it’s ‘Sky Cloud.’ But what brings you here with such aggressive intent?”
Chi Yun entered Yu family sword hall. He saw the four walls were solemn, a golden sword hung in front of the hall, and several tables and chairs—nothing remarkable—occupied the center. Several people sat drinking tea. One of them frowned upon seeing him enter—the same person who had thrown the sword. Chi Yun said coolly, “I thought the eldest son of Qifeng Xiao family was so capable, but it turns out he hasn’t even learned twenty percent of his family’s Spinning Sword technique. Sitting here drinking tea with Sword King Yu—aren’t you afraid of throwing out your back?” The several people at the table changed color slightly. The scholar who’d thrown the sword maintained his composure. “Qi Lan has mediocre talent and failed to master swordplay, bringing shame to the family. But surely your visit isn’t to instruct me in Xiao family sword techniques?” Chi Yun snorted and looked at Yu Qifeng among the seated men. “Old Yu, you’re not young and your reputation isn’t small—how can you still peddle poison like some third-rate charlatan to swindle money? Has your brain taken on water, your conscience been fed to dogs, your guts twisted in knots, and your meridians tied up? Come out!” His “Moon-Crossing Ring” emerged from his waist, the blade pointing straight at Yu Qifeng’s nose. “Today I’ve come for you!”
Chi Yun’s words always shocked everyone present. The Xiao family members exchanged glances. Yu Qifeng’s expression remained unchanged as he said flatly, “Yellow-haired brat speaking nonsense!” Xiao Qilan frowned, “Sky Cloud has such great fame—how can he act so unreasonably? Not to mention that Master Yu is the foremost swordsman in the martial world with unparalleled chivalrous reputation, but how can you run wild here with Master Puzhu and Gentleman Qingxi present?”
Chi Yun’s gaze swept over them. Among the tea drinkers was indeed Gu Xitan. Sitting to Gu Xitan’s left was a gray-robed monk with black hair, handsome features bearing a hint of killing intent, and a cinnabar dot between his brows—the famous “Ordained but unshaven, keeping none of the five precepts” Master Puzhu. Though this monk had taken vows, he neither shaved his head nor ate only vegetables, didn’t abstain from wine or killing, and aside from avoiding women, had no restrictions. Yet Master Puzhu was stern by nature, and everything he did required great wisdom and courage, earning respect. He was a revered figure among the righteous path in the martial world. Seeing Chi Yun challenge Yu Qifeng single-handedly, Master Puzhu asked in a deep voice, “You claim Sword King peddles poison—do you have proof?” Chi Yun laughed wildly, “If we had to reason about everything, many things in this world couldn’t be done. I’ve lived honorably all my life, never killing innocents—isn’t that proof enough?” Master Puzhu frowned. Gu Xitan stood up, “Chi Yun, you cannot! Sword King Yu is a senior master…” He clearly had much more to say, but Chi Yun was impatient with his long-windedness and shouted, “Old Yu, come out!”
Yu Qifeng slowly stood, his inner energy faintly visible—clearly furious inside. “Fighting you would be beneath my dignity. Zhan Jueyi!” At his command, someone floated in from outside, smiling. “Present.” Yu Qifeng flicked his robe, “Show the guest out!” “Yes!”
Chi Yun’s Moon-Crossing Ring moved. This “Zhan Jueyi” was only twenty-one or twenty-two years old, handsome with remarkable bearing, yet completely unknown. Moon-Crossing Ring hummed into motion, the silver rings on the blade chiming. As “Zhan Jueyi” took a step, Moon-Crossing Ring’s cold light flowed, already striking first straight at the crown of Yu Qifeng’s head!
Zhan Jueyi’s green robe fluttered slightly. Moon-Crossing Ring suddenly met resistance and with a “whoosh” spun three times in succession. Something from Zhan Jueyi’s sleeve intercepted it with a “clink,” and he stood smiling calmly. The weapon in his hand was actually a medicine bottle. “You—” Chi Yun said coldly, “aren’t Old Yu’s servant!” Zhan Jueyi’s hands didn’t stop, blocking three of Chi Yun’s killing moves while saying with a low laugh, “Your eyesight is quite good.” Chi Yun said, “Heh heh, using a medicine bottle as weapon is very unusual—definitely someone who’s never openly entered the martial world!” Zhan Jueyi praised, “How clever!” Chi Yun said coldly, “Hmph, even if you defend Old Yu, do you think I can’t deal with him? You—get out of my way!” As his words fell, white light flashed with a “whoosh.” Yu Qifeng suddenly leaped up—a throwing knife gleamed brightly embedded in the large chair where he’d been sitting. Gu Xitan gasped. In that instant, Chi Yun had already dodged past Zhan Jueyi, Moon-Crossing Ring’s blade light becoming a white streak falling straight toward Yu Qifeng’s chest. Zhan Jueyi followed like a shadow, raising his medicine bottle. From the bottle’s mouth, a pale azure mist drifted out, and everyone caught a whiff of subtle fragrance. Gu Xitan asked quietly, “Is it poison?” Master Puzhu shook his head, “It’s medicine.”
The substance in the bottle was an herb called “Light Smoke” that induced sleep when inhaled, used to treat insomnia. Of course, during combat, inhaling too much would make one drowsy and weak. Zhan Jueyi’s action made Gu Xitan somewhat displeased—though high-level fighters’ contests didn’t involve poison, this wasn’t entirely honorable either. Chi Yun encountered the subtle fragrance and with a “whoosh” flicked his sleeve like flowing clouds and water, striking straight at Zhan Jueyi’s face. His sleeves were unexpectedly long—one flick and drag created robes like wind while his right-hand blade continued without pause, crackling like lightning as it chopped toward Yu Qifeng!
This move of forward strike and backward flick resembled a great roc suddenly spreading its wings. Chi Yun’s swooping momentum flowed freely as if riding the wind through the air. Gu Xitan silently praised—wonderful! He saw Yu Qifeng reach back and grab the golden sword hanging on the wall. With a “clang” of metal on metal, Chi Yun’s Moon-Crossing Ring was severed by his blade. Chi Yun suddenly withdrew and retreated rapidly, his sleeve wrapping around Zhan Jueyi’s head and face as he lightly landed behind him, broken blade raised to Zhan Jueyi’s neck. “Old Yu, you’ve definitely taken Savage Ghost Nine Heart Pills!”
Yu Qifeng said flatly, “Your skill is inferior. Still making excuses? Golden sword breaking silver blade is simply your inferior power.” Chi Yun said coldly, “Moon-Crossing Ring has steel core plated with silver—hard yet flexible. Even if you’d practiced thirty years of internal power, you definitely couldn’t sever my silver blade with such a soft golden sword! Unless your power recently increased dramatically. Master Puzhu’s wise eyes can judge your power level—no need for me to waste words!” Yu Qifeng glanced at Master Puzhu, whose expression remained calm. He said flatly, “Sword King possesses sixty years of power, but this cannot prove Sword King has taken forbidden medicine.”
“Righteous martial world—bunch of bastards.” Chi Yun said coldly, “Even sneaky little thieves are more straightforward than you. In any case, Old Yu, don’t send people of unknown origin out to die. Chi Yun’s blade challenges your Sword King’s sword single-handedly!” His broken blade pointed at Yu Qifeng, “Change swords and come out!”
“Arrogant brat!” Yu Qifeng set down the golden sword and said to Gu Xitan, “Lend me your sword.” Gu Xitan removed the “Pingtan Sword” from his waist, “Please use it, senior.” Yu Qifeng drew the sword. Under sunlight, the blade gleamed brilliantly as he looked at Chi Yun expressionlessly.
“Not using Sword King’s ‘Laiyi’ will be your eternal regret!” Chi Yun shook his hand and threw Zhan Jueyi out the main door, looking coldly at Yu Qifeng. “Make your move!”
Yu Qifeng looked at him expressionlessly, his gaze seemingly containing pity.
Shen Langhun lurking in the rafters made no sound whatsoever, as if he’d completely vanished into the shadows.
Outside.
Zhan Jueyi staggered several steps, thrown outside the door by Chi Yun a zhang away. Just as he steadied himself, he suddenly saw someone smiling at him. In that instant, his expression changed.
The person had refined features and picturesque brows, except for a knife scar above his left eyebrow. He smiled at him, “How have you been, Young Master Hua?”
“Zhan Jueyi” quickly smiled back and threw something at him—another medicine bottle. “Antidote!”
With a “snap,” the newcomer grabbed his throat, smiling, “Not every time can you settle things this way, Young Master Hua. Please wait—I have something to ask you.”
This green-clothed youth disguised as “Zhan Jueyi” smiled again. How exactly had this person grabbed his throat? He still couldn’t see, just like last time when this person subdued Cao Wufang in one move—Cao Wufang remains bewildered to this day.
Someone who could grab his throat in one move absolutely could not be offended.
But the question he wanted to ask was a matter of life and death.
He heard the person gripping his throat, fingers like hooks, slowly dragging him like a dead dog toward the grove beside the sword hall while asking very gently, “Where are Yu family sword manor’s Savage Ghost Nine Heart Pills hidden now?”
Inside the sword hall, swords were drawn and bows strung.
Sword King Yu Qifeng held “Pingtan,” pointing diagonally at Chi Yun. Chi Yun lifted his clothes—four Moon-Crossing Ring blades at his waist gleamed snow-bright. He habitually carried five throwing knives; with one broken, four remained.
Gu Xitan was extremely nervous. Yu Qifeng’s power clearly surpassed Chi Yun’s, yet Chi Yun had a peculiar temperament—he insisted on gnawing bones he couldn’t bite. This battle’s outcome was worrying! He and Master Puzhu had come together precisely about the Savage Ghost Nine Heart Pills. He suspected Yu Qifeng, while Master Puzhu had traced a white carriage distributing pills that traveled to and from Yu family sword manor. The two were discussing this matter with Yu Qifeng, but before reaching any conclusions, Chi Yun had burst through the door demanding to fight Yu Qifeng. This person’s courage was certainly extraordinary, but acting so rashly before confirming the facts would likely make matters increasingly unmanageable.
“Begin!” Chi Yun gripped his blade, the edge passing his face. He lowered his head slightly, glaring at Yu Qifeng. “Let me experience the taste of ‘West Wind Slashing Wild Fire’…”
“West Wind Slashing Wild Fire” was Yu Qifeng’s famous technique that dominated the martial world. Yu Qifeng snorted and swung Pingtan sword with an utterly ordinary “Flat Sand Falling Geese” move pointing at Chi Yun’s chest. Under Chi Yun’s aggressive pressure, his sword still showed mercy—a senior bestowing instruction on a junior. Chi Yun swung out his blade. Moon-Crossing Ring hummed and vibrated. Suddenly the air seemed filled with thousands of snow-bright ghostly eyes, the blade’s breaking-air sound whistling like ghost cries as it shrouded Yu Qifeng’s head. This move was called “Ferrying Lives,” the eighth form of the eighteen “Ferrying” slashes—killing and taking lives, ferrying departed souls.
When “Flat Sand Falling Geese” sword qi touched “Ferrying Lives” blade, Gu Xitan saw his Pingtan sword chip very slightly at one corner, his heart filled with terror—the sword chipping meant Yu Qifeng used full power in this seemingly ordinary move. Once blade and sword touched, it would be—
A tremendous “clang” shook the heavens as Pingtan sword snapped! A strand of hair drifted past Chi Yun’s face. The first Moon-Crossing Ring struck empty and fell to the ground, yet Yu Qifeng’s sword also lost its tip when blade met sword. Pingtan’s inferior material couldn’t match the silver blade and broke with a clear ring. Chi Yun drew his second throwing knife and said coldly, “Change swords!”
“This brat goes too far.” Yu Qifeng said flatly, “Bring a sword!”
While the two fought, seven or eight Yu family servants had arrived. Hearing Yu Qifeng call for a sword, one stepped forward presenting one with both hands. Everyone saw this sword was plain and unadorned, ugly in shape, like a discarded blade. Yu Qifeng drew it with a “swoosh.” Chi Yun stood ready with blade in center, praising, “Good sword!” After a pause, he took a deep breath. “As a swordsman, to not wear a sword and borrow from others when fighting shows ignorance. As the world’s foremost swordsman, to have others present a sword when fighting shows shamelessness!” He looked regretfully at Yu Qifeng’s “Laiyi Sword.” “What a pity—a fine sword in your bastard hands is like embroidered shoes for a lame woman or pearl robes for a yellow-faced hag. What a damn waste!”
Well cursed! Gu Xitan cheered inwardly. Though Chi Yun’s actions were rash, unknowingly he’d become his closest friend. Though Chi Yun’s tongue was sharp and words poisonous, this string of curses was satisfying and thorough—exactly what he couldn’t and dared not say. Master Puzhu’s expression was cold, eyes bright as he watched the two. Seeing Yu Qifeng with sword in hand, naturally an aura like a city about to fall arose—his sword presence completely different from before.
“Red lotus blooms for karmic sins, ferrying life, ferrying fate, ferrying ghostly souls!” Chi Yun said eerily, his snow-bright silver blade twisting with a “clang” as one knife slowly drifted out, as if invisible hands guided the blade. The blade’s momentum was ethereal, like a phantom spirit slowly floating toward Yu Qifeng.
“Sword Weeps for Wind and Clouds.” Yu Qifeng said flatly. Chi Yun’s blade could float suspended by borrowing sleeve wind power—his extremely long sleeves served this purpose. So Yu Qifeng struck before his sword emerged, sword qi pointing directly at Chi Yun’s elbow, true force flowing where sleeves also floated, pointing diagonally at Chi Yun’s dancing sleeve opening.
Ha! This sword stroke might determine life and death. Yu Qifeng’s “Laiyi” sword emerged with iron determination to sever Chi Yun’s arm. Shen Langhun lurking in the rafters only now changed his breathing extremely slightly, confirming absolutely no one would discover him. His finger moved and an extremely fine steel needle appeared between his fingers. If Chi Yun faced danger, should he save or kill? He pondered. His killing skills were naturally first-rate, but his rescue techniques might not be. If the Shadow-Shooting Needle emerged and his identity was exposed, did he have means to avoid Yu Qifeng’s “West Wind Slashing Wild Fire”?
Pondering in the rafters.
Below, Chi Yun’s sleeves fluttered, the floating blade reaching Yu Qifeng’s face when suddenly a great shout rang out. With a “clang,” half a Moon-Crossing Ring flew up and stuck in the rafters, nearly striking Shen Langhun’s hiding place. In the instant Chi Yun’s blade broke and he switched blades, Yu Qifeng struck once. “Clang clang clang”—three sounds as Chi Yun changed blades three times, all three breaking and embedding in the hall’s rafters and walls. Finally the sword’s momentum was spent. Yu Qifeng twisted his wrist to withdraw his sword, looking menacingly at Chi Yun. “Again!”
Chi Yun had only one blade left at his waist. His proud expression remained as he stood empty-handed in white robes with floating sleeves, smiling stubbornly. “Of course—again! You’re very good!” Yu Qifeng’s blade radiated cold qi. Gu Xitan felt a chill—Yu Qifeng’s sword was truly earth-shaking, and Chi Yun’s spirit only grew stronger with setbacks. This battle wasn’t just uncontrollable—it would require one person’s blood spattering three feet to end.
“Last blade—let’s see whether you die or I die?” Chi Yun’s fingers slowly removed the final Moon-Crossing Ring from his belt, gripping it in hand. “Last blade—’Ferrying Moon Questioning All Living Things.’ Yu Qifeng—” He slowly beckoned to Yu Qifeng with his finger, “West Wind Slashing Wild Fire.”
“I won’t fulfill your wish—wouldn’t that let martial world people say I’m harsh to juniors?” Yu Qifeng said flatly, his eyes faintly revealing the crimson madness. “West Wind Slashing Wild Fire!”