The desolate roar of a fierce tiger echoed between heaven and earth before finally fading away.
Inside Liu Wuqiu's room, Xiahou Xuan sat on a stool, reading by the moonlight. Wang Anfeng sat with his eyes closed, circulating his energy as if cultivating. Huangfu Xiong had been forced to open his jaw and swallow medicinal wine. He had awakened by now, but was thoroughly bored, so he merely held the wine jar and took a small sip every so often.
Outside the room, the world was deathly silent save for the howling mountain wind. They could only wait here, preparing to face an unknown judgment. From the force outside, roaring like a tiger, they knew this was absolutely not something they could interfere with.
Yet simply sitting there and waiting to die was truly unbearable.
Just then, other sounds suddenly mingled with the howling mountain wind. They sounded like footsteps, but something was off. It was as though something were being dragged along the ground, scraping out a strange rhythm that made their hearts tremble. Wang Anfeng slowly opened his eyes and pressed his palm against the dagger at his waist. Xiahou Xuan's gaze shifted away from his book as well, while blue veins unconsciously bulged on the hand Huangfu had clamped around the wine jar.
The three of their heartbeats gradually quickened. The scraping sound drew closer, closer still...
Crash!
The wooden door was shoved open, and a pungent stench of blood mixed with the mountain wind and swept inside. The three youths' hearts instantly raced to their limits. Wang Anfeng's dagger sprang from its sheath, becoming a streak of cold light that shielded him. Moonlight spilled across the figure's face, revealing an old white-haired man who grinned at them and said:
"Cough, cough, cough. It seems you really aren't stupid."
"Senior Liu... Senior Liu."
Only then did Wang Anfeng see clearly that the old man before them was none other than Liu Wuqiu, whom they had encountered earlier. His clothes were in tatters and his whole body was spattered with blood, so Wang Anfeng had failed to recognize him at first. Based on his previous deductions, the old man bore them no killing intent, and his racing heart slowed somewhat. Liu Wuqiu extended his right hand and said:
"Hand it over."
Wang Anfeng froze for a moment, then remembered something. He sheathed his dagger, took the folding fan from the nearby table, and respectfully handed it to the old man. Liu Wuqiu accepted the fan, staggered forward, and finally sank down against the side of the bed. After letting out a long breath, he opened the folding fan beneath the moonlight and tremblingly brushed his hand over the hairpin flower poem written on it. In a soft voice, he said:
"I won..."
"I lost for sixty-eight years, and won this once..."
"I have no regrets."
Wang Anfeng and the other two stood silently beside him. The old man gazed at the folding fan and murmured words the three of them could not understand. Yet the ease, serenity, and remembrance within them were emotions shared by all people. The old man's voice gradually lowered, then shifted into descriptions of the hundred arts of the martial world, mixed with some plainspoken remarks. Because Wang Anfeng and the other two could feel the old man's emotions, they naturally became immersed in what he described.
Xiahou Xuan was exceptionally intelligent, had studied a vast range of disciplines, and held himself in high regard. Naturally, he looked down on a figure like Liu Wuqiu. Yet the old man's low muttering, though jumbled and indistinct, struck his ears like thunder. Many parts resonated with what he had learned, and he could not help but listen more intently. His internal energy began circulating of its own accord, and his inner world gradually expanded, becoming broad and vast. The old man's words were like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, finally revealing their boundless breadth.
Huangfu Xiong, meanwhile, was shaken to the core by the old man's vague descriptions of fist techniques. He felt that every sentence from the old coot described the path of fist techniques, taking a high vantage point and pointing straight at its profound mysteries. The tiger's roar still echoed beside his ears, yet it smashed his understanding of fist techniques into ruins. Then, from those ruins, a towering edifice rose from level ground, standing proudly atop a solitary peak and looking down upon his former self.
Wang Anfeng had not practiced martial arts for long, and his understanding of martial learning was far inferior to that of his two friends. At this moment, he simply listened to the old man. To be honest, he could not understand many of the things the other man said. Some words merely gave him the vague sense that he had realized something, though he did not know what. He listened in a muddle, while the internal force of his One Zen Skill circulated and seemed to undergo subtle changes. He had no idea whether they were good or bad.
The old man's voice lowered and gradually fell silent. He raised his eyes to look at the three of them and said:
"Not bad aptitude. I have learned broadly throughout my life, and today's breakthrough has brought me many insights. The three of you couldn't swallow it all, but you didn't return empty-handed."
"One gained breadth, one gained height, and one... gained purity. Such is the way of Heaven. Human effort can never achieve perfection. Three parts here, standing as three legs of a tripod? Excellent... excellent..."
The old man's expression was complicated. He murmured a few words softly, then said:
"I'm tired. I'll go get some sleep."
The three of them did not understand his meaning, but they had received Liu Wuqiu's guidance. They immediately bowed deeply and withdrew outside. A whole night of life and death had passed like a dream. The silver moon had already sunk beneath the horizon, and a fish-belly white seemed to churn into view in the heavens.
Wang Anfeng looked up at the sky and only then realized that a full night had passed. In that short night, he had experienced more weighty events than in all thirteen years of his life combined—events he could never forget. Xiahou and Huangfu beside him also wore dazed expressions. Clearly, such an experience had been anything but ordinary for them.
Two streaks of light suddenly shot across the sky toward them. Before they drew near, someone shouted:
"Young master! Young master?!"
The two figures landed. One was a tall, imposing man in fine clothes, with a heavy saber on his back that radiated a razor-sharp menace. The other was a sickly man who looked as though he suffered from consumption and carried a wooden qin. When he saw Xiahou and Huangfu, he dropped heavily onto the ground, raised a hand to his chest, and drew a long breath before shouting hoarsely:
"Thank goodness nothing happened. Excellent, excellent..."
"You nearly scared Old Man Six to death..."
The well-dressed man frowned and explained:
"Just now, the tiger-roar phenomenon from this mountain shot into the heavens. For a thousand li, everything was sealed off; all beasts vanished. Someone must have taken a single step onto the path of an Upper Three Ranks martial Grandmaster. Since the two... three young masters are unharmed, that is naturally excellent."
"From now on, you must not separate from us again. If we encounter such a situation another time..."
Huangfu Xiong shrugged. He reached for the wine flask at his waist, only to grasp empty air. Pursing his lips, he said:
"You follow us? If you followed us, could you keep the three of us alive against an Upper Three Ranks expert?"
The well-dressed man's expression stiffened slightly, and he stubbornly argued:
"I would certainly be no match for a Daoist True Man or a Military General. But if I fought with my life on the line, I could at the very least preserve the young master's life."
Xiahou Xuan sighed from the side.
"Fight with your life on the line? Senior Liu is covered in a hundred wounds. He must have just fought to the death against an Upper Three Ranks Grandmaster..."
Upon hearing this, even the sickly man stopped his wailing. He stared at the wooden hut as though he had seen a ghost. Wang Anfeng slightly raised his eyes toward the heavens. Dawn had broken, and the sky was growing bright. Only now could they see the celestial phenomenon above clearly: dense clouds gathered and rolled backward like a dragon, as if trying to shake the Pillar of Heaven. The strange vision covered dozens of li in every direction, chilling the soul.
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