Song Qingshu held Cheng Yaojia close as the two hid amid the foliage of a lush tree within Yuqing Temple, giving them a clear view of everything happening in the Separate Courtyard.
Foreign monks stood everywhere inside and outside Yuqing Temple. The temple's Daoist priests had been gathered together under guard and had clearly lost the ability to resist.
Wang Baobao stood proudly in the courtyard, surrounded by experts from Prince Ruyang's Mansion.
Han Tuozhou's group was either wounded or dead. The only one still capable of resisting was Wu Tiande, disguised by Linghu Chong. With a sword in hand, he fought the Xuanming Elders' combined assault alone without falling behind, though the two elders had likewise entangled him so thoroughly that he could not break free.
Song Qingshu pondered secretly, Linghu Chong's swordsmanship is exceptionally high. Against either of the Xuanming Elders alone, he would likely have won long ago. But together, the Xuanming Elders' offense and defense are greatly enhanced. Even Zhang Wuji at the height of his power had found them difficult to handle, much less Linghu Chong now. Being able to fight to a draw is already thanks to the marvels of the Nine Swords of Dugu and the elders' wariness of the Star-Sucking Art. Otherwise, Linghu Chong would have long since fallen to the Xuanming Divine Palm.
"Your companions have all surrendered. Why keep up this futile resistance?" Wang Baobao's eyes lit up at Linghu Chong's astonishing swordsmanship, and he could not help wanting to recruit him. "We Mongols value talent above all else. If you lay down your weapon and join us, I guarantee your treatment will be far better than in Southern Song."
Linghu Chong snorted. "Enough nonsense!" He had always been chivalrous and righteous. How could he possibly defect to the enemy