Song Xiaoyu parried with his twin forks. With a clang of impact, he locked Mo Ziru’s long sword between the twin forks. Tang Wujun shouted an order, and over twenty fire crossbows, plus his own long arrow, all shot toward Mo Ziru.

For a moment, the small courtyard was filled with flying arrows. Behind Mo Ziru, thick smoke surged skyward, fire borrowed the wind’s momentum and burned ever more fiercely, scorching hot air currents swirled and spiraled, stirring everyone’s robes to flutter loudly.

Mo Ziru released his sword and leaped up. Dozens of flying arrows crossed past beneath his feet. The archers scattered to avoid them, and some were even struck by their own side’s fire crossbows, crying out as they fell. Song Xiaoyu hadn’t expected that this person who would rather die than yield back then could now easily let go. A series of follow-up moves with his twin forks couldn’t be executed, leaving him dazed.

Taking advantage of his daze, Mo Ziru stepped down toward his head. Song Xiaoyu’s mind hadn’t caught up yet, so he hastily retreated. Mo Ziru landed back in front of him, snatched back his Long Robes sword, and in one fluid motion kicked him in the chest, sending him flying back seven or eight steps with a thud.

Song Xiaoyu had deep internal energy, so this kick couldn’t seriously harm him. But Mo Ziru had released his sword and retrieved it with such ease, even stepped on his head and kicked him – this was an utter humiliation, worse than when Mo Ziru had slashed his nose in their youth. So he roared wildly, sprayed four streams of white qi from his four nostrils, and swung his steel forks to smash at Mo Ziru.

Tang Wujun observed Mo Ziru’s sword momentum and his heart trembled – this person had been a genius with exceptional comprehension in his youth, and after not seeing him for over twenty years, he seemed to have re-comprehended the sword way entirely.

Having just missed with his arrow, Tang Wujun knew that trying to hit Mo Ziru with bow and arrow was like a fool’s dream. So he gripped the bow in hand, sweeping horizontally and striking directly, using the bowstring as an exotic weapon to slash at Mo Ziru. This bowstring was naturally different from ordinary bowstrings – being caught by it could easily slice off a piece of flesh, and the string was still poisoned.

The poison on this bowstring was called “Ghost Rain,” Tang Wujun’s unique poison. Those struck by this poison would first shed tears from both eyes, then when tears ran dry blood would flow, and finally they would die weeping blood. Tang Wujun had secretly created this poison intending to use it on the rival who had stolen his beloved woman, making that person kneel before him and cry to death – wouldn’t that be wonderful? But back then, before “Ghost Rain” was completed, that rival had already died.

Though Mo Ziru didn’t know Tang Wujun’s string carried “Ghost Rain,” he knew this person was poisonous from head to toe, so naturally couldn’t let the longbow get close. So he swept horizontally with his sword, golden light rippling from the blade like scattered golden wine. With three consecutive clangs, he deflected Song Xiaoyu and Tang Wujun’s weapons while shaking both men back a step. The surrounding flustered crossbow archers reloaded their short crossbows, but now they began to hesitate – if they shot and this strange person jumped up again, wouldn’t they hit their own people on the opposite side?

Tang Wujun shouted, “Split the shots! Half shoot at his front and back, half wait for him to leap high into the air before shooting!” Those red-robed crossbow archers were his subordinates and nodded in agreement.

Mo Ziru’s sword momentum was like a rainbow. While Tang Wujun was giving orders, he had already struck three sword blows at him. Tang Wujun was in a fluster, and the bowstring sounds of ding-ding-ding continued incessantly. It turned out that while fighting Song Xiaoyu, Mo Ziru had somehow managed to chop at his longbow seven or eight times! If this longbow weren’t a wondrous item, Mo Ziru would have cut it in half long ago.

Meanwhile, Song Xiaoyu wielded “Slaughter the Remnant Life,” those twin steel forks resembling maces were like a pair of clubs under Mo Ziru’s sword. After finishing with Tang Wujun, Mo Ziru casually chopped at “Slaughter the Remnant Life,” and here too the clanging sounds continued endlessly as Mo Ziru’s left and right sword strokes cut off many of “Slaughter the Remnant Life’s” long spikes.

Though Mo Ziru wasn’t using any special moves, under his plain left and right sword strokes, “Slaughter the Remnant Life” would sooner or later become two bare sticks, and Tang Wujun’s longbow would sooner or later break.

When swordsmanship reaches its peak, it returns to simplicity.

The most complex ultimate moves and the simplest ultimate moves may be identical.

All are good swordsmanship.

At this moment bowstrings sounded. Mo Ziru flipped over and lay flat on the ground. Those crossbow archers waiting for him to leap up were also dazed. After lying down, Mo Ziru rolled over and over again, actually rolling right to the feet of one crossbow archer, then swept with his sword, and that archer cried out as he fell. The short crossbow archers exclaimed and retreated. These people originally had inferior martial arts, and being suddenly invaded by Mo Ziru, they immediately fell into chaos. Mo Ziru darted east and west, flashing repeatedly through the crowd, even using Xue Xianzi’s “Thousand Traces Arc Transformation.” In almost an instant, the over twenty fire crossbow archers surrounding him lay scattered on the ground, wailing endlessly.

Both Song Xiaoyu and Tang Wujun’s expressions changed. Mo Ziru held his sword horizontally and smiled, “Again?”

The four streams of white mist from Song Xiaoyu’s nose gradually thickened. “Slaughter the Remnant Life” suddenly retracted its steel spikes and extended blade sections forward, transforming into two short knives. He spread his sleeves, and “Slaughter the Remnant Life’s” twin short knives suddenly shot out like arrows. When the short knives reached mid-air, the blades rang out with a zing and actually shattered in mid-air, transforming into tens of thousands of tiny hidden weapons that shot down rapidly.

This inexplicable technique also surprised Mo Ziru. Song Xiaoyu wasn’t skilled with hidden weapons – the key to this flying knife shattering technique wasn’t Song Xiaoyu, but “Slaughter the Remnant Life.”

Who had made such a mechanism for Song Xiaoyu? Just like who had given Tang Wujun over twenty fire crossbow archers?

While pondering, Mo Ziru swung his sword to parry. Though the shattered blades were numerous, when Mo Ziru shook his sword once, the “Long Robes Sword” suddenly became flexible, the sword body vibrating and bouncing as it swept away “Slaughter the Remnant Life’s” blade fragments. And these blade fragments were naturally a diversion – Song Xiaoyu and Tang Wujun charged forward with the shattered blades. Mo Ziru exchanged a palm strike with Song Xiaoyu with his left hand, leaned back to avoid Tang Wujun’s longbow, then thrust out a sword.

This sword was named “Cut and Take Blue Light to Write Chu Poems,” meaning inscribing poetry on bamboo. This was Mo Ziru’s swordsmanship from his youth – both spirited and carrying a touch of youthful melancholy and loneliness. Tang Wujun sneered coldly, suddenly turned his longbow, wound it around the Long Robes sword several times, and held Mo Ziru’s sword fast. Song Xiaoyu had deep internal energy. After exchanging one palm strike with Mo Ziru without victory or defeat, he rushed forward for another palm strike. Mo Ziru didn’t want to release his grip again, so he took a deep breath and forcibly seized back his sword.

Mo Ziru’s internal energy cultivation followed the path of fierce power without retreat. When he exerted force to seize it, the strength was extraordinarily powerful. Tang Wujun didn’t believe that even if this person had become more reserved over twenty-some years, he couldn’t have completely changed into a different person. Even if he had learned to retreat one step – this person had probably only learned to retreat one step.

Definitely not two steps.

Mo Ziru exerted force to seize his sword, Tang Wujun suddenly released his grip – the poison-coated longbow was directly pulled away by the Long Robes sword, and the elastic longbow and bowstring vibrated greatly together – cutting an extremely fine wound on Mo Ziru’s face.

Tang Wujun threw back his head and laughed loudly, “Hahaha… Mo Chunfeng! Today I’ll teach you to die by my hand! Hahaha…” He originally had no deep hatred with Mo Ziru, but deep in his heart he harbored deep jealousy and resentment toward this person, so landing one successful move truly made him ecstatic.

The wound on Mo Ziru’s cheek only seeped blood slightly, but he already felt severe pain in both eyes, his vision became blurry, and tears burst from his eyes – only now did he understand the poison he’d been struck with was “Ghost Rain.”

Where ghosts weep, tears fall like rain.

This name was actually one he had given Tang Wujun back in the day.

Back then Tang Wujun hadn’t yet completed this poison, and he didn’t know if there was an antidote now.

Mo Ziru wiped away the bloody tears under his eyes. Song Xiaoyu saw he was poisoned and was also overjoyed. “Slaughter the Remnant Life,” having shot out shattered blades, returned to being two maces, aimed at his eyes and smashed down.

With a tremendous clang, Mo Ziru closed his eyes and held his sword horizontally, sword qi suddenly surging. Song Xiaoyu felt nearly suffocated before even getting close. When the “Long Robes Sword” contacted “Slaughter the Remnant Life,” the sword blade actually cut directly into “Slaughter the Remnant Life.” Mo Ziru exerted force and flicked upward, and Song Xiaoyu’s “Slaughter the Remnant Life” flew from his hands, clattering as it fell into the burning ruins.

Mo Ziru’s eyes slowly shed bloody tears. This poison was domineering and vicious, damaging internal organs but not internal energy. Mo Ziru couldn’t use true qi to suppress “Ghost Rain.” Though this poison might not take his life, it affected his ability to cover the rear for Shui Duopo and Liu Yan. His temper had been bad since youth, and though his face showed nothing now, his heart burned like flames, filled with unstoppable rage.

Out of old friendship, he had shown mercy, but his old friend repaid him with a toast of “Ghost Rain.”

Just as Mo Ziru closed his eyes and raised his sword, preparing to take Tang Wujun’s life, the courtyard wall suddenly collapsed. The rumbling sound of falling bricks and stones was endless, momentarily confusing his hearing. Tang Wujun still had dozens of subordinates who overturned the courtyard wall and formed battle formation. Just as the bricks and stones collapsed, dozens more short crossbows shot toward Mo Ziru.

At the same time, Song Xiaoyu, having lost his weapon, suddenly formed claws with his five fingers and thrust toward Mo Ziru’s chest. His long-boasted exotic internal energy finally came in handy – before those five fingers even touched Mo Ziru’s clothing, they were shaken away by Mo Ziru’s sleeve wind – that sleeve wind not only shook away Song Xiaoyu’s five fingers but also deflected the incoming short crossbows. However, the exotic true power on his five fingers, like a stream of white smoke, followed Mo Ziru’s vibrating true power and entered his dantian.

Mo Ziru only felt a thread of foreign true qi in his meridians, silky and cotton-like, intermittent, blocking his true qi circulation yet couldn’t be called foreign matter that could be forcibly expelled. That true qi seemed similar yet different from his own, seemingly fused yet not fused, as if cotton stuffing had been crammed into his meridians – it was truly extremely uncomfortable.

Having sent this thread of true qi, Song Xiaoyu’s complexion turned deathly pale, his vital energy also greatly damaged. Through years of bitter cultivation, he had only managed to develop this tiny bit of “Cotton Robe” true power, specifically designed to counter peerless masters with deep internal energy. Over the past twenty-some years, many had fallen to his sneak attacks, all dying from carelessness.

“You—” Mo Ziru opened his eyes in rage, two streams of bloody tears flowing down. Both Tang Wujun and Song Xiaoyu found the sight shocking. Mo Ziru roughly wiped away the bloody tears with his fingers, casually smearing away his legal advisor makeup as well, revealing half of a refined scholar’s face.

That face was covered in blood. Mo Ziru still gripped the Long Robes sword tightly, bloody tears dotting his clothes like falling plum blossoms. “Not seeing each other for twenty-eight years, in the end I am—I am a frog in a well,” he said softly.

Mo Ziru raised his sleeve and lifted his sword. Fierce fire and wind came brushing by, his blood-stained hair and clothing all fluttering. He stood alone, holding his long sword horizontally with one hand – that didn’t seem like a sword-drawing stance.

But both Song Xiaoyu and Tang Wujun were slowly retreating.

That was Mo Chunfeng’s first sword that had shocked the martial world—named “March”!

Mo Ziru’s eyes contained bloody tears, his body struck with strange poison and internal injury.

But back then Mo Chunfeng’s sword “March”—”Eastern wind comes filling eyes with spring, flower city and dark willows sadden people to death”—who could see him assume this stance without being frightened to the core?

The Long Robes sword traced through the air, sword light scattered like spring flowers and autumn moons unchanged for decades, like the moon first seen by the riverside in what year, like the person first illuminated by the river moon in what year.

It was the spring wind of sleepless March.

It was Mo Chunfeng’s youth.

However, just as the sword “March” was being executed, Mo Ziru suddenly looked back—from within the secret passage behind him came a tremendous crash, another sword qi surged across, the entire secret passage exploded upward from below, thousands upon thousands of bricks, stones, and dirt scattered across the sky, accompanied by points of cold bright light, as if a bright moon had exploded in the depths underground!