The Universe in His Palm

The moment he finished speaking, Tang Shun's pace suddenly quickened. Like a mad bull, he charged at Qi Zhengyan and Meng Qi, the only ones still standing.

Though his martial arts ranked last among the four experts, he was still a powerhouse of the Orifice Opening Realm. Qi Zhengyan dared not be careless. He swept his long sword in a circle, drawing an arc like the solemn descent of the setting sun. His defense was watertight. He intended to hold steady first, then, with Meng Qi's help, stall until Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan finished healing and could rise to fight together.

He had faced Orifice Opening experts before, whether in sparring with his fellow sect members or during missions at Hidden Emperor Fortress. Many of his opponents had opened only their Eye Apertures, so he had considerable confidence in his own rigorous, steady Long River Sword Technique. Even if victory was out of reach, he could still stall for a while. Besides, he had now learned some of the Thirteen Forms of Ever-Changing Cloud and Mist, hidden within his sect's swordplay. Its movements were nimble and unpredictable; perhaps he could even wound Tang Shun and weaken him.

Then, even if Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan could manage only two or three tenths of their usual strength, they might still drive Tang Shun back—or hold out until the Main Quest was complete—thanks to their exquisite swordsmanship and superior numbers.

Meng Qi could more or less guess what Qi Zhengyan was thinking. He launched into Eight Steps of Divine Travel, darted to the side, and brought his saber down in a strike that showed a fair degree of coordination.

Just as Qi Zhengyan and Meng Qi's moves were about to finish, Tang Shun suddenly lunged forward, deliberately crashing into the sword point as if he meant to kill himself!

This is bad!

The unexpected move put Qi Zhengyan on guard, but Tang Shun's eyes were sharp and his timing uncanny. Qi Zhengyan had no time to pull back his sword and defend, or change his move. He could only turn sideways, sink his chest, and draw in his stomach.

Thud! The long sword struck him with a muffled sound, like a blow landing on worn leather. Meng Qi's overhead slash, thrown off by Tang Shun's sudden lunge, could only cut into his back. It tore his clothes and exposed his dark skin, leaving a white scratch.

A fierce palm wind knocked Qi Zhengyan's sword from his hand and sent him flying through the air. Blood kept spilling from his mouth as he crashed heavily to the ground.

Iron Body Skill?

A perfected Iron Cloth Shirt?

Meng Qi leaped backward, then strangely darted to the left, evading Tang Shun's casual follow-up strike after he had sent Qi Zhengyan flying. He was utterly shocked.

For so many days, he had relied on his Iron Cloth Shirt to seize the initiative, using speed to overcome slower opponents and trading minor wounds for major ones. Everything had gone smoothly. But now he was facing a terrifying opponent whose Iron Cloth Shirt was even stronger than his own—and whose martial arts were far superior!

A flush of red flashed across Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan's faces. They forcibly stopped healing, raised their swords, and prepared to join the battle.

After landing, Qi Zhengyan struggled several times before managing to stand. Though he had avoided taking Tang Shun's palm strike head-on, Tang Shun was so powerful that he had still been badly hurt.

Back and forth, left and right, Meng Qi could only dart around in every direction, barely holding on with Eight Steps of Divine Travel as he faced the fearsome Tang Shun.

The gap between them was simply too great. Otherwise, Meng Qi would certainly have chosen the same strategy he had used against Zhen Miao.

Now, though Meng Qi's steps were strange and elusive, Tang Shun was gradually narrowing the space he had to move. Before long, he would have nowhere left to dodge.

"Miss Jiang, Senior Brother Zhang will be here soon..." Meng Qi gritted his teeth, focusing completely on evasion. Under such pressure and danger, he seemed to be gaining an even deeper grasp of the essence of Eight Steps of Divine Travel.

"Ha!" Tang Shun suddenly let out a sharp breath, like a clash of bells and drums.

Buzz! Meng Qi's ears rang. His heart grew restless, his vision blurred, his limbs weakened, and his steps faltered.

Smack! Tang Shun seized the chance to catch up and swung his right palm, landing squarely on Meng Qi's back.

Meng Qi's vision went black. His back went numb, and he was sent soaring into the air. His body crackled like beans popping in a pan, while blood poured uncontrollably from his mouth.

The searing pain jolted Meng Qi awake when he hit the ground. He happened to see Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan, one attacking and one defending, holding Tang Shun off.

Suppressing the urge to pass out, Meng Qi struggled to regulate his breathing. His rich Shaolin inner force flowed slowly, like a clear spring, easing much of his discomfort and stabilizing his injuries.

The injuries aren't too bad... Meng Qi assessed his condition. But my Iron Cloth Shirt is completely broken.

Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan had struck Tang Shun from the side, preventing him from putting his full strength into that palm. And Meng Qi had been protected by his Minor Iron Cloth Shirt, so he had suffered only minor injuries, though his Iron Cloth Shirt had been broken. He still had the strength of Minor Qi Accumulation.

But without his Iron Cloth Shirt, Meng Qi's strength had dropped by at least seventy percent!

Inside Daxiong Baidian, the steady tok, tok, tok of a wooden fish echoed without pause, creating a strange atmosphere of solemn tranquility.

Xin Ji sat cross-legged before the golden Buddha statue. His expression was calm and serene as he tapped the old wooden fish before him, as if carrying out his daily practice rather than awaiting a formidable enemy.

"Monk Xin Ji, you've grasped a little Zen Intent, haven't you?" Outside, the sky was dark, leaden clouds hung low, silver snakes flashed, and torrential rain poured down. A figure slowly passed through the "curtain" of water dripping from the eaves and stepped into Daxiong Baidian. It was none other than Great General Du'er Cha!

He wore a black Barbarian robe. His left eye, blinded by Jiang Zhiwei, was not closed; instead, it glared wide open, revealing a darkness and emptiness that made the heart tremble.

"Unfortunately, I failed to persuade you to lay down the butcher's knife," Xin Ji said leisurely, stopping the wooden fish.

Du'er Cha gave a cold laugh. "Slaughtering all living beings—that is the Buddha!"

As he spoke, a gale howled through Daxiong Baidian, snuffing out candle after candle.

Xin Ji remained unhurried. He began tapping the wooden fish again and intoned solemnly:

"Shariputra, all dharmas are marked by emptiness; they are neither born nor destroyed..."

A burst of Glazed Buddha Light suddenly rose from his left palm, accompanied by waves of Zen Chants:

"Neither defiled nor pure, neither increasing nor decreasing..."

The Buddha light gathered around Xin Ji, making him seem like a solemn Buddha statue. Together with the golden statue behind him, one small and one large, one illusory and one real, one moving and one still, they formed a scene beyond description.

Du'er Cha's expression turned grave. "You were willing to part with so many Sariras?"

He threw a punch. A giant dragon formed from the gale before him, and lightning struck the roof of the hall.

"...There is no suffering, no cause of suffering, no cessation of suffering, and no path; there is no wisdom, nor any attainment." Xin Ji struck out with his left palm. Buddha light blazed, and the Vajra glared in wrath.

Meng Qi sprang up with a Carp Leap, searching for the Monastic Blade that had flown from his grasp while keeping a close eye on the fight between Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan. In the corner of his eye, he saw Qi Zhengyan pick up his sword and stand there, looking a little hesitant.

Zhang Yuanshan excelled at Taiji defensive techniques, while Jiang Zhiwei's swordsmanship was incomparably fierce. One defended while the other attacked, and together they had managed to hold Tang Shun back for the moment.

Given their current condition, Tang Shun should have been able to break through Zhang Yuanshan's defense with a few rapid attacks. But at every crucial moment, Jiang Zhiwei's White Rainbow Piercing Sun Sword struck like a venomous snake bursting from its cave, swift and terrifying as it aimed for several of his vital points. He had no choice but to abandon his attack and switch to defense, giving Zhang Yuanshan a chance to catch his breath.

And if he tried to defeat Jiang Zhiwei first, he could not break through Zhang Yuanshan's swordplay.

Seeing this, Meng Qi was secretly delighted. Qi Zhengyan should no longer hesitate. With him and Qi Zhengyan helping, Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan could keep Tang Shun tied down until the mission ended.

Just as Meng Qi found his Monastic Blade and prepared to join the fight, Zhang Yuanshan's body suddenly trembled, and his swordplay slowed sharply.

This is bad—he can't suppress his injuries anymore!

The thought had barely appeared in Meng Qi's mind when he saw Tang Shun seize the opportunity. He slapped Zhang Yuanshan's sword away, then kicked him in the ribs with his left foot, sending him flying sideways.

The crack of Zhang Yuanshan's broken ribs rang clear. After he hit the ground, he vomited blood. He tried to stand but lacked the strength, left gravely wounded and near death.

Without Zhang Yuanshan's defense, Jiang Zhiwei was immediately left to face Tang Shun alone. After just two or three exchanges, her unstable injuries and depleted strength made her slower and less agile than at her peak. Tang Shun found his opening, took a sword strike on his left palm, then closed in and drove his right shoulder into her, sending her flying.

Jiang Zhiwei's clothes fluttered as she clenched her teeth, but blood spilled from the corners of her mouth as if it cost nothing. Even so, she kept a firm grip on her sword. When she landed, she managed to prop herself up with the blade, barely staying on her feet.

"That's a very clever way of redirecting force..." Tang Shun paused, then praised her. He had thought that strike would kill Jiang Zhiwei outright, but it had only grievously wounded her. "What a pity, what a pity. You can't even beat a child now..."

He looked around. Some were injured, some were weak, and he couldn't help feeling pleased with himself. Laughing loudly, he said, "Your martial arts are all exquisite, and your inheritances are clearly extraordinary. Why not teach them to me? In return, I'll let you die more easily. How does that sound?"

As he spoke, he looked at Jiang Zhiwei. "You're a pretty little girl, the most beautiful I've ever seen. If not for the Great General's strict orders, I might have shown you some tender mercy. Heh, I've always liked chivalrous women like you, so strong in martial arts and so fierce on the surface. Let's see if you'll beg for mercy when I get you into bed..."

Jiang Zhiwei's expression turned furious, but her injuries were so severe that even speaking was difficult. She could only pant heavily.

As he spoke, Tang Shun moved closer to Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan, keeping his side toward Meng Qi and Qi Zhengyan. He meant to use his words and imposing presence to put the fear of death into them and force them to reveal their martial arts secrets.

In truth, he had a special method for forcing people to talk, a vicious one. But Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan were so badly injured that they were close to death. If he used it, they might "end" before he learned anything.

"What are you staring at, little monk? Your martial arts are ordinary, and you're weak too. Well, I might as well kill you first." Tang Shun decided to make an example of someone, choosing Meng Qi, who had the least worth as a prisoner.

Meng Qi hurled filthy insults at him, but strangely, his mind remained calm as he tried to think of a way to respond.

He knew that, given the difference in their strength and condition, their chances were vanishingly slim. Still, he did not break down. He tried to grasp that sliver of hope.

Use Eight Steps of Divine Travel to dodge there... then strike his vital point... As Tang Shun approached step by step, Meng Qi prepared to fight to the death.

If I don't fight, I'm doomed anyway. I might as well go all out!

Tang Shun walked toward Meng Qi with a smile, but kept his eyes on Jiang Zhiwei and Zhang Yuanshan, waiting for them to yield.

"Little monk, should I break your left hand first, or your right leg? Or would you rather become a eunuch first?" Tang Shun chuckled.

As soon as he finished speaking, his expression suddenly froze. A white light bloomed in Qi Zhengyan's hand, growing brighter and more intense until it illuminated everyone. It struck Tang Shun before he could react.

As Tang Shun roared, the sound of thick cloth tearing rang out. Then another streak of white shot from Qi Zhengyan's hand, dazzling and even more fierce. With a whoosh, it struck Tang Shun's right palm as he barely managed to raise it in defense, pierced straight through, and hit him squarely in the chest.

"Child-Mother Soul Separation Dart?" Meng Qi thought it looked familiar. It was a Tang Sect hidden weapon that had left a deep impression on him when he read about it in a novel.

But he had no time to think. The attack he had just planned turned entirely instinctive. He dodged, crouched, and rolled, darting in front of Tang Shun. His long saber thrust upward, piercing Tang Shun's lower abdomen through the vital point beneath his navel.

Meng Qi twisted with all his strength. Blood poured over his head, steaming hot.

He had no time to keep pushing. He abandoned his saber and rolled away to avoid Tang Shun's dying counterattack.

Tang Shun's agonized cries echoed across Back Mountain, like a lone wolf weeping at the moon, like an evil spirit wailing at a grave.

His screams gradually faded. Tang Shun collapsed, eyes wide open, a strange flying dart lodged in his chest and his lower body a bloody mess.

After releasing the Child-Mother Soul Separation Dart, Qi Zhengyan could barely stay upright. He fell to his knees and gasped for breath.

"When did he exchange for the Child-Mother Soul Separation Dart? Where did he get the Merit Points?" Meng Qi wiped the filthy blood from his face. "Could he have exchanged away all the Flower Washing Sword Sect martial arts he had?"