Xiao was a common surname, countless clans across the land bore it.
But in Tianqi City, the name Xiao held a different significance.
The Emperor of Bei Li was surnamed Xiao, and in Tianqi City, only the Imperial Xiao clan carried this surname.
“Xiao?” Su Muyu said slowly. “I heard there’s a Sixth Prince in this generation with extraordinary martial arts talent.”
“That would be my disciple here, the Sixth Prince of Bei Li, Xiao Chuhe.” The White Tiger Envoy laughed, patting the young man’s shoulder. “Despite his youth, he’s just one step away from entering the Heaven Realm.”
“Oh?” Su Zhe looked at the youth before him with curiosity. “That’s impressive.”
“What brings Your Highness the Sixth Prince and the White Tiger Envoy here?” Su Muyu asked.
The White Tiger Envoy stretched lazily: “No particular reason—just wanted to see what abilities the famous Ghost with Umbrella of the Dark River truly possesses!” As his words fell, he suddenly drew the staff at his waist and rushed toward Su Muyu.
Su Muyu bent slightly, gripping his umbrella handle tightly. The White Tiger Envoy was different from other opponents—if they were to truly fight, he would need to use his strongest killing moves from the start.
“Muyu, stand down.” Su Zhe swung his Buddhist staff to clash with the White Tiger Envoy’s staff, the golden rings chiming melodiously. He glanced at the talismans on the staff, his eyes brightening. “This is the Wuji Staff!”
“Good eye, Master Su.” The White Tiger Envoy raised his staff, spinning it into a flower pattern in the air, which then scattered into hundreds, thousands of dazzling patterns. However, they all ultimately transformed into a single, fierce wave of staff force crashing down toward Su Zhe.
Su Zhe planted his Buddhist staff on the ground, then swept both hands outward. All the golden rings on his staff scattered, spinning rapidly around him to form a barrier. With a loud “clang,” the staff force struck the golden rings—more than ten rings fell to the ground in pieces, while the White Tiger Envoy, gripping his Wuji Staff, retreated three steps.
“I heard after the Heaven’s Blood River battle, you became half-crippled,” the White Tiger Envoy adjusted his mask.
“How reliable are such rumors?” Su Zhe smiled.
“My information is never mere rumor.” The White Tiger Envoy smiled. “Chuhe, stretch your legs too.”
“I’ve been waiting for Master to say that!” Xiao Chuhe’s face lit up with joy as he immediately drew his sword and thrust it toward Su Muyu.
Su Muyu was startled—though the youth wasn’t yet old enough to tie up his hair, his first sword strike carried powerful killing intent. He blocked with his umbrella, its ribs trembling, the oil paper covering shattering instantly. He froze: “This sword technique is…”
“The Empire-Splitting Sword technique passed down by Emperor Xiao Yi, founder of Bei Li!” Xiao Chuhe swung another strike at Su Muyu. “Please, Senior Su, draw your sword!”
“So it is the Empire-Splitting Sword technique.” Su Muyu nodded slightly. “One of the world’s most difficult sword techniques to master, called the greatest killing sword technique in existence. At such a young age, you know the Empire-Splitting Sword technique.”
“Senior is quite knowledgeable about swords.” Xiao Chuhe continued striking one sword blow after another, but Su Muyu still only defended with his paper umbrella, not drawing his actual sword.
“My father was very knowledgeable about swords—he told me all this. It’s said this technique is extremely fierce and dominating. Ordinary swords cannot handle this technique. Back then, Emperor Xiao Yi wielded the Heaven-Cutting Sword with the Empire-Splitting technique—almost no one in the world could match him. I presume Your Highness’s sword is no ordinary weapon either,” Su Muyu said while retreating.
“My uncle lent it to me—the Haoque Sword,” Xiao Chuhe replied.
“Ah, the Wang of Langya’s Haoque Sword, listed in the Sword Manual. No wonder it can handle the Empire-Splitting technique.” Su Muyu praised.
But Xiao Chuhe grew impatient. He had already struck more than ten times, yet the man before him kept dodging, clearly unwilling to fight. He asked helplessly: “Senior, do you think I’m not worthy to fight you?”
Su Zhe and the White Tiger Envoy remained in deadlock. Though Su Zhe still smiled carelessly, his ribs were beginning to ache.
After the Heaven’s Blood River battle, he had indeed become half-crippled. This wasn’t rumor but fact. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stepped down from his position as a Puppet. He no longer had the trump cards of his prime, to fight to the death.
The White Tiger Envoy remained composed, speaking lightly: “Our duel has little meaning. Let’s watch them instead.”
“What crime would it be to kill a gifted prince?” Su Zhe asked.
“That depends on how daring you are.” The White Tiger Envoy smiled slightly.
“Draw your sword!” Xiao Chuhe shouted, swinging the Haoque Sword. In that instant, all the doors, windows, tables, and chairs in the room shattered, devastatingly sharp sword energy attacking Su Muyu.
This time, he had nowhere to retreat.
Su Muyu shifted slightly, his fingers gently pinching the umbrella’s surface, directly pulling out a sword blade. He swung it forward—the blade met the Empire-Splitting sword energy, gradually being ground to powder. But Su Muyu reached back with his left hand, another blade falling into it. As soon as he caught the thin blade, he flash-stepped to Xiao Chuhe’s side.
Then he stopped.
His left hand blade was at Xiao Chuhe’s chest.
The White Tiger Envoy’s Wuji Staff pointed at his back.
And Su Zhe’s Buddhist staff was raised high.
Xiao Chuhe licked his lips: “Senior’s sword skill is very strong.”
Su Muyu ignored the others, directly stabbing his blade into the ground: “This isn’t sword skill. This is the art of killing.”
“Let’s go, disciple. Now you understand there’s always someone better out there.” The White Tiger Envoy stepped forward, grabbed Xiao Chuhe’s collar, and leaped out the window with him.
After landing, Xiao Chuhe showed no disappointment: “No wonder Master spoke so highly of him before. His sword skill is indeed exceptional.”
“The man already said it—that wasn’t sword skill, but the art of killing.” The White Tiger Envoy patted Xiao Chuhe’s head. “Though your sword technique is advanced and your talent strong, you’ve never experienced life and death. That’s why I specifically brought you along. I wanted you to see what a true life-and-death battle looks like.”
Xiao Chuhe first startled, then frowned in thought before nodding: “After returning, this disciple will carefully consider today’s duel. So Master came this time to give me practical experience.”
“That was just incidental. I came to gather more information.” The White Tiger Envoy took out a small book and a vermillion brush from his robe, slowly writing down several lines.
“What information?” Xiao Chuhe asked.
“Su Zhe is indeed no longer the Su Zhe of old,” the White Tiger Envoy said softly. “But Su Muyu—he’s even stronger than before.”