Tie Er?
To Tong Fang Yu, that name belonged to a very distant past. Yet it quickly dragged one unpleasant person after another back into her world, as though pulling up a radish had brought all the mud with it.
Yin Fei Yu.
Jin Yuan Xiu.
…He Si Yu.
At the Southern Yu Martial Arts Assembly, He Si Yu had publicly admitted that he was Tie Er, the Lingnan Sect’s eldest disciple who had been bewitched by the demoness Yin Fei Yu. The news had long since spread throughout the land.
She had heard about it too. Learning that someone she had hunted down in the past had become one of the world’s foremost experts had certainly made her uncomfortable, but it was all supposed to be ancient history. She had never imagined that he would one day appear before her again.
“Have you become a Northern Zhou lackey?”
He Si Yu replied coldly, “My killing you has nothing to do with Northern Zhou.”
Tong Fang Yu considered this, then understood. “So you’ve come for revenge?”
He Si Yu said, “Back then, we were weak and outnumbered, and you hunted us. Now my cultivation has advanced greatly, so I’ve come to kill you.”
At that, the White Tiger King suddenly spoke. “Since this is a private grudge, it would be improper for this old man to interfere.” A straightforward man, he turned and walked away as soon as he finished speaking, without caring what expressions the two people behind him wore.
Tong Fang Yu frowned, but He Si Yu’s spear was already hurtling toward her.
Dawn had yet to break, and the bright moon hung high overhead. The Moon-Soul Spear seemed to have absorbed the moon’s very essence, radiating a soft, faint light. Yet the instant it thrust forward, it became incomparably fierce.
Tong Fang Yu struck with her palm, but the blow was a feint. She pulled back before it connected and retreated at tremendous speed. Arrogant as she was, even she would not imagine that she stood a chance against a Martial God.
But He Si Yu was not fooled. At this moment his heart, eyes, and hands had only one purpose: to kill Tong Fang Yu.
Xuan Ou Zi instinctively wanted to help his master, but no sooner had the thought formed than He Si Yu flashed past him and reached Tong Fang Yu’s back.
The spear point was less than one chi from the back of her head!
A broad sleeve swept toward his face like a vast white cloud. The White Tiger King had, in the end, failed to keep his promise to stand aside.
The White Tiger King’s movement technique was as uncanny as a ghost’s. His sleeve appeared cloud-light and soundless, yet it carried an overwhelming, surging force. If He Si Yu insisted on taking Tong Fang Yu’s life, he would undoubtedly die himself. Even if he redirected his spear now, he might not evade the fatal blow.
Would both perish together, or would one die alone? There seemed little room left for choice. But Tong Fang Yu was not the only one with an ally today.
A fishing rod suddenly appeared between the White Tiger King and He Si Yu. The line was as fine as silkworm silk, and a hook no bigger than a fingernail dangled beneath it. The hook looked utterly ordinary, even a little rusty, yet its gentle swaying effortlessly dissolved the White Tiger King’s attack.
He Si Yu’s spear, meanwhile, kept driving forward.
Tong Fang Yu sensed death approaching. When the White Tiger King had said he would not interfere, he had only been trying to deceive He Si Yu so he could land a surprise attack. Neither of them had anticipated the appearance of the fisherman.
But she was the strongest martial artist among Puppet Path’s four great disciples. Naturally, she would not simply surrender.
Although luring He Si Yu into the trap had cost her the best opportunity to escape, attacking was also the best way to fight back.
Because the City of Ten Thousand Beasts lay on the western frontier, she had styled her hair in a dozen or so small braids. Now they suddenly seemed to come alive, writhing and reaching like clawed creatures, one after another tangling around the point of the Moon-Soul Spear.
He Si Yu turned his wrist outward. The Moon-Soul Spear spun violently, its sharp blades slicing her black hair into a storm of dark snow that scattered everywhere.
Seizing that tiny breathing space, Tong Fang Yu threw herself forward and rolled along the ground, trying to escape his reach. But He Si Yu’s offensive did not let up. His spear followed her like a blind person’s probing cane, gouging one round hole after another into the earth.
Tong Fang Yu rolled about in a miserable state. All she could do was hope the White Tiger King would finish off his opponent and come to her rescue. Unfortunately, the enemy he faced was exceedingly troublesome.
The fishing rod bobbed in midair while the line moved with the suppleness of dancing fingers, sometimes coiling, sometimes stretching, sometimes shooting straight, sometimes bending, battling the White Tiger King’s two sleeves with unflagging vigor.
A fierce current of spiritual power formed around the pair, too violent for outsiders to enter. Xuan Ou Zi and the others could not even approach, much less help. After studying the battle, he resolutely charged He Si Yu instead.
Xuan Ou Zi had only mediocre talent for martial arts. Had his appearance not pleased Tong Fang Yu, he would never have had a chance to join the City of Ten Thousand Beasts. As his progress in puppetry had been slow, she had taught him her family’s Thunderclap Cloud Palm.
He struck with his palm. Though it lacked Tong Fang Yu’s effortless mastery, it still carried considerable force.
Without even looking back, He Si Yu swept his long spear behind him. The motion seemed casual, yet it precisely deflected Xuan Ou Zi’s attack, leaving the spearhead against his chest. A gentle push forward would be enough to take his life.
A chill raced through Xuan Ou Zi. Then relief washed over him at having narrowly escaped death. He opened his mouth to exhale and was about to retreat, but He Si Yu had already driven the spear through his chest, impaled him, and swung him toward Tong Fang Yu.
While He Si Yu dealt with Xuan Ou Zi, Tong Fang Yu finally managed to scramble upright. Her lustrous black hair had become a ragged shoulder-length crop, and her alluring eyes blazed with fury.
He Si Yu shook the shaft. Xuan Ou Zi slid off the spearhead and fell to the ground.
He had not yet breathed his last. His handsome features twisted in pain, his eyes struggled to find Tong Fang Yu, and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something. But blood streamed from the corner of his mouth, drowning his final words in wet gurgles.
With the Moon-Soul Spear pointed toward the ground, He Si Yu wore a cruel little smile. “He risked his life to save you. He must be someone very important to you.”
Tong Fang Yu glared at him. “Are you trying to provoke me?”
“All these years, there hasn’t been a moment when I haven’t imagined killing you,” He Si Yu said. “I imagined you cornered with nowhere to run. I imagined you kneeling and begging for mercy. At last, I can make it happen.”
Tong Fang Yu sneered. “In your dreams.”
The level ground abruptly cracked, and broken stones shot upward!
He Si Yu regarded her calmly. He swept his spear, reducing the stones to powder.
The pressure of a Martial God!
Tong Fang Yu was rooted to the spot. She could only watch him approach step by step and raise the Moon-Soul Spear.
If the spear possessed a spirit, now would be the time for it to sing.
He thrust the Moon-Soul Spear straight ahead, piercing her heart.
A strange smile appeared at the corner of Tong Fang Yu’s mouth. In the next instant, her soul burst free of her body and rammed toward him, trying to force its way inside.
The Moon-Soul Spear’s gentle glow abruptly condensed into a single beam and struck at Tong Fang Yu’s soul.
The light scattered suddenly. At the same time, Tong Fang Yu’s soul shattered into dust and dispersed with the light between heaven and earth.
He Si Yu drew out the spear. Tong Fang Yu’s body slowly toppled backward and struck the ground.
The sound rang like a bell, terribly heavy.
Afterward there was no sound at all, terribly light.
He Si Yu stood frozen for a moment, seemingly struggling to accept the reality that he had finally avenged himself and killed Tong Fang Yu.
Suddenly…
The Moon-Soul Spear trembled furiously. He Si Yu’s body did not move, but his true qi surged outward like an ocean tide.
Yet someone rode those wind-whipped waves, advancing against the current!
He Si Yu spun around and held the Moon-Soul Spear before his chest. His attacker passed straight through the spear and knocked his soul right out of his body!
Mo Xiao Ran wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his left hand. Forcing a collision with a Martial God had caused him internal injuries too. With his right hand, he seized the soul knocked out of He Si Yu, squeezed it gently, and sighed. “Why ruin my plans?”
The Moon-Soul Spear shattered!
The fisherman battling the White Tiger King turned pale. He flicked his fishing rod, winding the line back around it until the hook caught the rod. In an instant, his fishing tackle was packed away.
With equal agility he leapt free of the battlefield, melted into the darkness before dawn, and soon vanished without a trace.
The White Tiger King pretended to give chase. After running a couple of steps, he noticed Mo Xiao Ran had not called for him and stopped awkwardly. Turning around, he complained, “You’re late. You got your own disciple killed.”
Mo Xiao Ran knew he was shirking responsibility, but this truly was not his fault. “I went to Southern Yu.”
The White Tiger King looked from Tong Fang Yu’s corpse to Mo Xiao Ran. Seeing that he did not seem especially troubled by his disciple’s death, the king immediately relaxed. “What for?” he asked casually.
“The tower has disappeared.”
The one eye visible outside the White Tiger King’s mask darted around. “So the plan is almost a success? Then I’m going back to the City of Ten Thousand Beasts.”
Mo Xiao Ran said, “Come with me to Haojing.”
The White Tiger King shook his head. “No. What if we run into Monk Shan again? Too much trouble.”
Mo Xiao Ran said, “Don’t you want to witness it for yourself?”
The White Tiger King said, “If it succeeds, I’ll naturally get my share. If it fails, that has nothing to do with me.”
Mo Xiao Ran’s voice darkened. “You still owe me a favor.”
The White Tiger King seemed somewhat wary of him. As soon as his tone changed, he straightened up considerably, though he still grumbled, “I’ve been paying off that favor for far too long.”
“One last time,” Mo Xiao Ran said.
The White Tiger King hesitated. “And that fellow who just escaped? You’re not going to kill him?”
Mo Xiao Ran clearly thought little of the fisherman. “Qiu Xi Hong neither wants to die nor dares to. If he died, the Qinling Sect would immediately sink to a second- or third-rate school. There’s no need to clash with him head-on.”
Only now did the White Tiger King realize that the man he had fought for so long was the Qinling Ancestor, one of the few orthodox experts capable of matching them. He could not help sighing. “Even among Martial Gods, there’s such a vast difference.”
He was comparing He Si Yu with Qiu Xi Hong.
Mo Xiao Ran looked at He Si Yu’s corpse. “Cultivating by borrowing spiritual qi leaves one’s foundations unstable in the end.” When his gaze fell on the Moon-Soul Spear, a trace of regret surfaced. Since the great era of ascension, spiritual artifacts tied to the soul had become exceedingly rare.
Seeing him stride away, the White Tiger King hurried after him, still prattling. “What about the City of Ten Thousand Beasts?” The siege was only halfway finished. With its leaders gone, would the remaining forces not be reduced to headless flies?
Mo Xiao Ran cared nothing for the war, nor for the power of the City of Ten Thousand Beasts, which terrified the orthodox factions and inspired awe among the unorthodox. “Whenever I wish, I can build another City of Ten Thousand Beasts.”