Those in the tent were concerned about Tang Lici’s injuries. Biluo Palace’s physicians removed his outer garment and cleaned the wound, but the abdominal cut was shocking to behold. His meridians inside were chaotic, his internal power scattered. Even if he survived by luck this time, Tang Lici’s martial arts would likely be lost forever. Tie Jing and Qi Xing accompanied him, both terrified, neither daring to look at him nor speak to him—sitting with Young Master Tang felt like torture.

Tang Lici still kept his eyes open. His breathing was extremely fast yet light. Hearing his rapid gasping, even Cheng Yunpao felt a kind of fear rising.

Wanyu Yuedan took a medicine bottle from his sleeve. Inside was a pill like jade and pearl. This was a pill he usually took himself—not equal to Shaolin’s Great Revival Pill, but better than nothing. Tang Lici slightly opened his mouth and, without even needing it dissolved in water, forcibly swallowed the pill.

Seeing his expression, Miss Hong finally sensed something strange, “Hero Cheng, please guard Young Master Tang and unblock his pressure points. He has something to say.”

Cheng Yunpao transmitted true qi to Tang Lici but felt the true qi dissipate upon reaching his dantian. Tang Lici’s martial arts came from the “Rebirth Manual” and weren’t originally cultivated by himself—ultimately they left him too, like karmic retribution. Hearing Miss Hong’s words, he pressed open the pressure points Tang Lici had been sealed with.

After his qi and blood flowed freely, Tang Lici’s abdominal wound immediately bled profusely. He suddenly raised his head, coughing hoarsely, “Wang… Wang Lingqiu… ‘Three Sleeps Without Night Heaven,’ ‘Queen Bee…'”

Wang Lingqiu?

Wanyu Yuedan raised his voice, “Where is Wang Lingqiu?”

Miss Hong also stood up, “Has Wang Lingqiu been properly detained? This person is the sole heir of the Lamp-Calling Order and very likely more capable of controlling the poisoned people outside than Chai Xijin! We must be extremely careful!”

“Miss Hong! Wang Lingqiu has disappeared!” Xu Qingbo came from outside, his color changed, “There are his accomplices among the poisoned garrison troops outside. Now it’s chaotic outside again—they’ve climbed up from the mountain base and surrounded us.”

Tang Lici caught his breath, shaking his head, “Fu…”

He obviously had something very important to say but was gasping more and more urgently, coughing, “Fu… Jade Plum… blade… where…”

Where was Fu Zhumei?

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Earlier, in the chaos of war and landslides, Fu Zhumei had been controlled by the spider woman at Chai Xijin’s war chariot, then what?

Where had he gone?

But Jade Plum Blade’s martial arts were world-class, and the spider woman was already dead. It shouldn’t be urgent enough for Tang Lici to hang on to one breath just to ask where Fu Zhumei was, right?

With a “whoosh,” blade light like rushing flood and snow broke through the door. Cheng Yunpao swung his sword to parry. With a “clang,” blade and sword crossed—the person breaking through the door had a purplish-blue complexion. It was Fu Zhumei!

He gripped his Jade Plum Blade but no longer had Master Jade Plum’s elegant and tranquil air. His entire body was shrouded in the faint golden-green color of venomous spiders, his eyes restless and uneasy. He stared at Tang Lici, yet didn’t seem to be staring at Tang Lici.

In his inverted and confused world, who knew what he was seeing.

Tang Lici gripped the clothes covering him tightly, sighing, “Zhumei.”

Wang Lingqiu was hiding outside, using the Lamp-Calling Order’s poison techniques to control Fu Zhumei.

This was how Chi Yun died.

This was how Shui Duopo died too.

Now, it was Fu Zhumei’s turn.

Tang Lici gripped the clothes tighter and tighter, watching the wounded Cheng Yunpao and Meng Qinglei battle Fu Zhumei. He closed his eyes slightly and bit his lip hard.

The Jade Plum Blade swept through the air. More and more Central Plains Sword Society members gathered around, but none could get close. Fu Zhumei’s blade light flowed—he wanted Tang Lici’s life.

Tang Lici sat upright within reach of Fu Zhumei’s blade. The three men’s weapon qi stirred his long gray hair. He neither spoke nor moved, as if he needed only Fu Zhumei to take one more step and swing the blade at his neck for him to calmly face death.

One strike, two strikes, three strikes…

The Jade Plum Blade flowed like water, water like ice-clear and traceless. Fu Zhumei’s true power gradually merged with the venomous spider poison. The cold blade wind crisscrossed, growing stronger and stronger. Cheng Yunpao and Meng Qinglei barely matched him at first, then were forced back one step, two steps…

The cold blade wind had already struck before Tang Lici. Several gray hairs broke in the wind, and the golden hairpin holding his hair fell.

Tang Lici suddenly opened his eyes.

He caught that golden hairpin.

Just then, a sword broke into the tent from another direction. With a thunderous clash of blade and sword and collision of true power, the entire tent was shattered by sword light. The newcomer wore white clothes and black hair, striding boldly, holding his sword across to block in front of Tang Lici.

Cheng Yunpao and Meng Qinglei both called out lowly, “Abbot Puzhu!”

Puzhu clasped his hands in salute, “Fellow… Daoists.” He no longer chanted Buddha’s name, saying solemnly, “Puzhu has made grave errors. Being guilty, I long ago became unfit to serve as Shaolin’s abbot. Benefactor Tang saved me from fire and water. For that day’s events and today’s crisis, Puzhu will give everyone an explanation.”

Wasn’t this abbot the one Tang Lici had stormed into Shaolin Temple and publicly abducted?

The Central Plains Sword Society members were both shocked and confused. Puzhu being abducted by Tang Lici was evidence of Tang Lici’s heinous crimes, yet Puzhu said “Benefactor Tang saved me from fire and water.”

What exactly had happened in Shaolin Temple that day?

Puzhu pointed his sword at Fu Zhumei.

Puzhu carried Queen Bee Condensed Frost poison, Fu Zhumei was infected with venomous spider poison. When the two poisons met face to face, both immediately unleashed killing moves.

Fu Zhumei didn’t understand what Puzhu had just said at all. The wound on his back burned, and he stared strangely at the monk-robed person before him—this person had something on him!

And Puzhu could equally sense that Fu Zhumei had a different kind of sweet fragrance.

He was different from everyone else.

When both unleashed killing moves, qi energy flew, surrounding rubble shattered piece by piece, making the rock they stood on underground even more unstable. Cheng Yunpao, Tie Jing, and others hurriedly lifted Tang Lici, Wanyu Yuedan, and others, everyone scattering like desperate fugitives. Only screams could be heard all around—the airflow from their desperate battle caused the mountain slope to collapse a second time.

Tang Lici widened his eyes, watching Puzhu and Fu Zhumei.

Not far away, Fu Zhumei and Puzhu were locked in mortal combat.

They could not only disregard their own lives but even the lives of others around them.

Dizziness arose before his eyes. Tang Lici lowered his head. The shadows of Fu Zhumei and Puzhu circled up and down in the distance. He felt dizzy but dared not close his eyes.

He was placed on the ground by Cheng Yunpao, sitting in the dust. Half of what he saw was sand and dirt, half was blades and swords.

He didn’t know who would win.

But he knew Puzhu… would definitely fight desperately.

Just as he had seen Mo Ziru’s sword… and Shui Duopo’s sitting, heard Xue Xianzi who shattered his own skull and died three days later.

Seen Zheng Yue drawing his sword and rising, Bai Suche walking alone.

Seen the blood and blurred poetry in the deep pool beneath the waterfall at Jade Mirror Mountain.

In this world… it wasn’t that Tang Lici was omnipotent and invincible in battle, but that there were always people in this world… who would brave fire and water, cast aside life and death, so that he could be “invincible in battle.”

With a “crack,” blood splattered. Fu Zhumei’s blade pierced Puzhu’s heart.

With a “ding,” Puzhu abandoned his sword on the ground and firmly gripped Fu Zhumei’s shoulders with both hands.

He bit into Fu Zhumei’s shoulder and began frantically sucking blood.

The golden-green poisonous blood from the venomous spider was continuously absorbed by Puzhu. The Insect King raged in Puzhu’s dantian, and the wound in his chest where he’d been stabbed was healing.

Deep in Tang Lici’s eyes, something stirred slightly. He suddenly understood what kind of ending Puzhu would bring to today.

Puzhu had come with the Insect King.

He had brought the Insect King from the ashen ruins of Floating Zero Brow Garden’s underground.

Wang Lingqiu was not to be feared. Puzhu would take his place.

Tang Lici slowly exhaled and gradually closed his eyes.

All affairs were concluded.

The battle of Qihun Mountain’s Floating Zero Brow Garden ultimately ended in victory for the Central Plains Sword Society.

During this period, many people died in battle—Ren Qingchou, Zheng Yue, Xue Xianzi, Shui Duopo, Mo Ziru, Master Wenxiu, Bai Suche, and others. A’Shui’s whereabouts were unknown. Puzhu carried the Insect King, while Fu Zhumei’s venomous spider blood became food to nourish Puzhu. The Pleasure House and Tianqing Temple were almost completely annihilated. As for the thousands of innocent poisoned garrison troops and people like Bi Lianyi, Puzhu and Wang Lingqiu, whom he had captured, would extract and neutralize their poisons one by one.

The Shaolin sword monk had ultimately become the heir to the “Lamp-Calling Order.”

Tang Lici was not the master of the Pleasure House but was actually a hero who endured humiliation, reversed the battle situation, and saved Puzhu from fire and water. This person had both strategized brilliantly to destroy the Pleasure House and slain the Ghost Peonies, eliminating Tianqing Temple’s rebellion in its infancy. If this world had lacked Young Master Tang, it would likely have fallen into great chaos, and Young Master Tang had worked tirelessly to save this crisis, suffering severe injuries.

For a time, the Emperor issued edicts of reward, everyone in the court sang his praises, and the common people of the martial world were jubilant, hoping day and night for Young Master Tang’s early recovery.

All affairs were concluded.

Tang Lici lay unconscious and drowsy on his sickbed for an unknown length of time.

One day he saw a great fire in his dreams.

In the dream was a green mountain.

The green mountain caught fire.

The green mountain burned to white ground. There was no one in the mountain, only fire that burned ever more fiercely, and a mountain that became increasingly charred, increasingly hideous and terrifying.

He was unconscious for over a month. He didn’t know who carried him here and there. He could feel himself moving between carriages and horses, seeming to see many doctors and take much medicine.

He dreamed many times of that hideous and terrifying black mountain.

Until one day he fully awakened and found himself in his former residence at Haoyun Mountain. Outside the window were green mountains wreathed in clouds and mist, with beautiful scenery—no charcoal at all.

He murmured “A’Shui” once, but no one was beside him.

After a good while, Tang Lici sat up wrapped in his bedding and saw the sun setting outside the window, evening mist thick as fleece.

It was truly a very quiet and peaceful sunset.

He could neither call to A’Shui nor see Liu Yan nor Fu Zhumei.

During Tang Lici’s month-plus of unconsciousness, Tianqing Temple was sealed by the Court of Judicial Review for thorough investigation of the so-called “Late Emperor’s Spirit” demonic sorcery. Then Yang Guihua arrested quite a few people, and all of Shaolin Temple was also thoroughly investigated.

But these matters no longer concerned Tang Lici.

After he could get up, he brought Fengfeng home.

A’Shui had disappeared into the deep pool waters of Jade Mirror Mountain. Tang Lici dispatched hundreds of remaining members of Wanqiao Studio to search Jade Mirror Mountain and its rivers but never found her.

He actually rarely thought of A’Shui.

He didn’t know why, but even in dreams, he dared not dream of her.

About Fengfeng, about throwing her out to die in his place, about that bank note… he actually had many, many things he could say.

But most of the time, he felt A’Shui didn’t need those justifications and answers.

The one who needed justification and explanation was Tang Lici.

Not A’Shui.

Mountains distant, roads far, at the end of blue sky, flowing water silent.

She would never return.

And he would always remember her, unforgettably for this entire lifetime.

Tang Lici bought a plot of land outside the capital and spent a long time building a tomb.

In the first year after completing the tomb, he brought much paper money.

Standing before the tomb, Tang Lici’s robes fluttered in the wind. The burning paper money danced in the wind, even the ashes scattered with the wind, leaving only a very faint wisp of smoke.

Burned.

Yet as if it had never existed.

Later he once found Yu Tuan’er in Cock Valley. Yu Tuan’er wore white clothes.

Yu Tuan’er said that on the second day of his unconsciousness, before the Central Plains Sword Society members had dispersed, Liu Yan had set himself on fire… burning himself in front of many heroes of the sword society. Before burning himself, he said, “Tang Lici was never the master of the Pleasure House. By now you should finally believe it, shouldn’t you? His obsession with me was only due to childhood friendship… He always thought I would never change, believing that even if I did evil, it was because I was deceived by others and had no choice. But acting as one is and knowing what one is, I harmed so many people—if I could die peacefully, heaven would be blind.”

Tang Lici listened in a daze. After a long while, he asked, “What happened after?”

Yu Tuan’er said, “After… he said ‘go home’ and jumped down again from the edge of that big hole in Floating Zero Brow Garden. He became a fire person, then fell into that pile of charred corpses at the bottom…”

What else Yu Tuan’er said after that, he could hardly remember now. He vaguely remembered she didn’t cry much, but didn’t smile either.

He burned incense for Chi Yun, Xue Xianzi, Mo Ziru, Shui Duopo, Zheng Yue, Bai Suche, Master Wenxiu, Liu Yan, and others one by one, offering fresh flowers.

He slowly prostrated himself, kowtowing to these tombstones.

First bow.

Second bow.

Third bow.

Mountain wind bitter cold.

All sounds silent.

In this life—greed, anger, delusion; seeking but not obtaining; meeting with hatred; parting from love—for each of these, he had given his utmost effort.

End of Story