“Insolent——”

The instant the young man lunged forward, Tunyun’s furious roar shook the entire room like distant thunder rolling in. To Xiaodie, crouched in the corner, it seemed as though the room had suddenly stretched to hold some vast, towering shadow, blotting out the mighty sunlight pouring through the window. In that same instant, the young man had already closed the two-zhang distance, wind screaming violently in his wake.

A resounding boom, followed by a lingering hum of vibration—the flowing-cloud iron sleeve and the steel blade crossed paths countless times in the blink of an eye. In this moment, the young man’s bloodlust surged; he’d pushed the Six-Path-Breaking style to its absolute limit, yet the iron cassock churned like a whirling tornado, and though he hacked out a violent series of sparks against it, he still couldn’t breach its inner core.

With a crash, the redwood round table between them flew into the air, its four legs flipping up, hanging improbably suspended for a moment. Ning Ji’s blade-light struck like thunder, instantly devouring a corner of the tabletop, and the table spun wildly, crashing into the side of the bed frame—the gauze curtains and wooden frame clattered down in a heap, Fang Ruitao screaming with her arms over her head. Tunyun’s cassock churned the tabletop, sending it thundering in a full circle around the room, and just as it struck the wall behind him, he seized it with his presence and hurled it violently back at Ning Ji!

“Waaah——”

The long blade cut across the sky, crashing down with full force ahead of him.

The massive tabletop exploded from its center, countless splinters raining down across the room amid Xiaodie and Fang Ruitao’s screams.

Ning Ji’s blade-light came crashing down, his lips parted, still drawing breath with all his strength, about to surge forward, when a massive black shadow bore down upon him.

Tunyun’s left sleeve swept into a circle, spinning like a whirlpool in flight, and then his right hand shot forward in a ferocious punch aimed straight at Ning Ji’s face.

Riding the momentum of his inhale, Ning Ji lifted his whole body another two inches, his blade-light dropping low, elbow twisting to smash upward—nearly his entire side slammed forward to meet the blow, body pressed against it like leaning into a mountain.

Boom——

Debris was still raining down inside the room when Ning Ji spat a mouthful of blood, staggering backward, and crashed into the wall not far from Xiaodie, collapsing to the floor.

At the front of the room, the tall monk held his fierce stance, one hand still extended, the other having thrown the punch—the flaring and contracting of his nostrils betrayed just how violently his blood and breath were surging.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. The young man, slumped on the ground, gripped his blade with both hands, pressing it against the floor before him. Head bowed, his chest heaved violently, desperate for air, unable even to spit the fresh blood welling up any further away.

The veins on Tunyun’s forehead throbbed, but slowly, he straightened back up to standing.

His voice still rumbled like thunder.

“In my youth, this one had a chance encounter and obtained the western regions’ technique of dual cultivation of yin and yang. What would an ignorant child understand of such mysteries? Your insolence today demands a lesson…”

As he spoke, Ning Ji caught his breath through several gasps, and finally spat the remaining blood in his mouth to the side with a wet sound. “Damn it… got greedy with that strike…”

He still had the temperament of a young man—having come off the battlefield just a couple years prior, he’d grown used to fighting styles built for self-preservation. But after all this time wandering the martial world, a certain recklessness had crept in besides. Just now, when the monk had hurled the table at him headlong, he could have dodged it—but sensing the monk had expended a good deal of his vital energy, he’d seen too good an opportunity to pass up, and let his violent instincts take over.

That full-force strike had, admittedly, split the entire round table wide open, an impressively fierce display—but it had also cost him nearly all his strength, leaving him unable to easily follow up. If not for the foundation his family training had given him, that punch just now would likely have left him gravely wounded.

The monk advanced slowly now, still speaking. “…This one thinks, perhaps, it would be fitting to kill your little mistress right in front of you.”

“…Mistress?”

Ning Ji, seated on the floor, looked toward Fang Ruitao on the bed, then, following the monk’s gaze, turned instead toward the huddled, quail-like figure nearby with her head in her arms.

“—Mistress? Her?”

“Waah…” Xiaodie looked over, eyes brimming with tears.

Ning Ji forced himself to his feet.

“She’s a man! You old bald donkey! Look at her chest! She’s a man dressed as a woman—”

“Waaugh…”

The girl’s crying choked to a stop on the floor.

Ahead of him, something shifted in Tunyun’s gaze, and he laughed. “This one too, once knew the stirrings of youthful affection. At your age, if you didn’t have feelings for her, why would you forever be bickering and squabbling with her? You may fool others, but…”

“Ha, you blind old bald donkey, might as well pluck out those useless dog eyes of yours—”

“…You cannot fool this one. Look how flustered you’ve become—”

The blade-light sliced through the air, twisting and slashing sideways with lightning speed. Tunyun’s cassock spread wide, slicing clean through ground packed hard over years with a single stroke. The two of them traded several more blows in a whirlwind through the room. This time Ning Ji no longer met him head-on, weaving and shifting position with him like a darting hare and swooping falcon, while Tunyun lunged toward Xiaodie. Ning Ji ignored the feint entirely, instead seizing the opening to strike at the back of the monk’s skull.

Tunyun’s iron sleeve swept out at empty air once, mildly startled to find Ning Ji simply pressing his attack, and his second strike landed solidly, gripping the crown of the girl’s head—though in the end, he held back his full strength.

“…Truly don’t care?”

He asked with a cold sneer. With his level of skill, one burst of force through his palm right now could crush the girl’s skull.

The girl thrashed and whimpered on the floor.

“It’s not that I don’t care at all.” The young man turned his blade, holding it horizontally across his chest. “But my family taught me long ago—if a loved one is ever taken hostage and threatened, pay it no mind. Just focus on how to kill the enemy’s entire family instead!”

“Hahahaha——” Tunyun burst out laughing. “What splendid nerve!”

The young man strode forward.

Tunyun lifted the girl’s head amid his laughter.

“Then this one shall help you grow up a little more——”

Ning Ji was about to swing his blade when, at that very moment, a figure lunged up from the ground—it was the one nicknamed “Axe King,” Xiao San, swinging his axe down at Ning Ji’s arm.

Ning Ji’s body shook once; the long blade in his hand vanished like an afterimage and reappeared. Blood sprayed across the sky, and an arm still clutching an axe went flying high before dropping outside the room.

“Ahh… ahhhhhhh——”

Blood sprayed wildly, drenching the girl on the floor from head to toe. Xiao San, now missing an arm, only screamed after a moment’s delay, stumbling instinctively toward Tunyun, his lingering ferocity driving him to bellow, “Kill him, kill him, kill him——”

In the next instant, the iron sleeve swept forward like a wall, batting his entire body flying, smashing through the doorframe and tumbling into the courtyard.

Tunyun cursed furiously. “I’ll kill your whole family—can’t you see what kind of contest this is, and you dare come barging in——”

He’d been holding Xiaodie’s head up, originally meaning only to frighten Ning Ji further, but with Xiao San’s arm severed and blood spraying everywhere like a burst dam, Tunyun—for all his formidable skill—had no wish to be suddenly drenched in someone else’s blood mid-fight with Ning Ji; it would look far too undignified. He tossed the girl aside instead, leaping to the side, and struck out in genuine fury, watching the man convulsing in the courtyard fall silent within moments.

“Ahhhhhhh… geh geh geh geh geh…”

Xiaodie, terrified out of her wits, sobbed and convulsed on the floor. Ning Ji drew several deep breaths, using the moment to steady himself, glancing at the man who’d died so inexplicably outside—he found the whole thing thoroughly baffling. In fact, everything about today felt more than a little baffling.

The room fell quiet for a moment. Tunyun, feeling the whole affair had brought him nothing but bad luck, flicked his sleeve and barked, “Enough——”

“I’m not finished yet!” Ning Ji said, blade held level.

“If this one meant to kill, you’d already be dead!”

Tunyun gestured toward the corpse in the courtyard. Ning Ji glanced that way—true enough, if the monk had struck while he was recovering just now, he’d have been hurt again. He fell silent for a moment, then heard Tunyun continue.

“This one came today to tell you something.”

“…”

“You believe, don’t you, that your brother’s death at Huaiyun Ward came from Miss Chen informing on you?”

The room fell quiet for a moment. Ning Ji blinked.

After a while, he ground out through clenched teeth, “…Is there any other explanation——”

“Was it that Pu Xingui who told you this?”

Ning Ji’s expression shifted, unusually complicated.

Tunyun understood at once—the young man had begun to think it over.

“This one values talent, which is why I’ve come today to tell you this. The grudge between you two began that day, and yes, Miss Chen truly meant to inform on you, to kill with a borrowed blade—but that day, she was a step too slow, hadn’t yet made the arrangements, when Huaiyun Ward was struck by cannon fire! If it was truly Pu Xingui who saved you that day, think carefully—who else in this city could possibly have informed on you!?”

Tunyun’s words rang out with clarity and force, leaving Ning Ji’s expression even more conflicted.

“…You expect me to just believe that?”

“This one has walked the martial world for decades. If I meant to kill you brothers, I wouldn’t need the government’s hand to do it. And if I truly bore a grudge against you brothers, I certainly wouldn’t have held back today!” Tunyun clasped his hands behind his back, iron sleeves ringing. “You needn’t believe this at once, but schemes and plots always leave traces in this world. Go home today, and you’re welcome to look for yourself!”

He had no idea how much evidence of Pu Xingui’s dealings might actually exist, but he felt this speech carried great wisdom and displayed his grandmaster’s bearing admirably, and was quite pleased with himself.

At that moment, sounds began drifting in from outside—likely the surrounding government troops finally responding to the commotion. Seeing the young man’s eyes lowered in serious thought, Tunyun had no wish to fight further and prepared to leave.

“This one has said what needed saying. I’ve held back—this once only. Someone’s coming outside; look after yourself. When we meet again someday, remember to thank this one.” With that, he kicked the still-convulsing Xiaodie over, and his figure vanished beyond the courtyard.

Only at the very last moment, he couldn’t resist adding one more remark: “And a word of advice… those who look like men—no fun at all.”

“Fuck your grandfather——”

Ning Ji had been busy pondering “what traces might my scheme have left,” but hearing that last line, he couldn’t help leaping up and cursing.