Time flew by. Half a year later.
The Yangtze River flowed westward. South of Shiwang Bend, amid misty rain, stood an ethereal, wondrous peak.
It was called Di Ta.
What was Di Ta?
No one knew.
Upon Di Ta Peak stood a secluded convent—the most mysterious place in the martial world: Cihang Jingzhai.
Within Jingzhai, inside a secret chamber, Fan Qinghui looked utterly haggard. Her breathtaking beauty was weathered by hardship, and both temples had begun to gray. It was clear just how much pressure she had borne and how much energy she had spent during this time.
"Master..."
Seeing her haggard appearance, Shi Feixuan was heartbroken yet helpless. "Why put yourself through this?"
"I am the mistress of Cihang Jingzhai. I cannot fail Cihang Jingzhai."
Fan Qinghui shook her head. Looking at her disciple, a trace of comfort appeared in her eyes. "Over these past six months, I have traveled the realm and united all sides. At last, it is done. The three Holy Monks, the Three Grandmasters, the Daoist leader, and the Confucian elders—nine Grandmasters in all—will join forces on Di Ta Peak and fight that man to the death."
"Master..."
"Enough!"
Shi Feixuan tried to speak, but Fan Qinghui raised a hand to stop her.
"I know you do not wish to see things come to this. To tell the truth, neither does your master. But he refuses to yield an inch and insists on forcing us into a fight to the death. What else can we do?"
Fan Qinghui shook her head. "At this point, words are useless. We can only go all out!"
With that, she lifted her head and looked straight at Shi Feixuan.
"Your master has done all that should be done and all that should not be done. Now, only one final