Snow Ridge Twin Beauties

Wei Bi had studied under Wu Lie, Wu Qingying's father, and had trained in martial arts at Zhu Wu Linked Rings Manor since childhood. With a solid family foundation, though he could not be called exceptionally gifted, years of diligent practice had given him internal strength that was already quite respectable among the younger generation, comparable to that of a third-rate martial artist in the martial world.

Now, attacking in rage, he sent his longsword tearing through the air with considerable force. As the sword tip trembled, it faintly carried the sound of wind and thunder, clearly showing that he had pushed his family swordsmanship to its limit.

Unfortunately, in Zu Hao's eyes, this was no different from an ant trying to topple a tree—futile and laughable.

He did not even move his feet. A cold gleam flashed through his eyes as he slightly raised his right hand, and a streak of silver light struck later yet arrived first, like a shooting star chasing the moon, plunging with perfect accuracy into Wei Bi's throat.

"Urgh!"

Wei Bi's forward charge came to an abrupt halt. His eyes widened, his face filled with utter disbelief.

He only felt a bone-chilling cold spread from his throat, followed by searing pain. His breathing was cut off in an instant, all his strength ebbed away like the tide, and his consciousness swiftly sank into boundless darkness.

Then, with a thud, his corpse crashed heavily to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.

In the blink of an eye, her two companions had died one after another. Wu Qingying, standing nearby, had long since gone pale with terror, trembling from head to toe like a leaf in the wind. There was no trace left of her usual arrogance.

When she saw Zu Hao's gaze sweep toward her, she felt as though a venomous snake had fixed its eyes on her. With a shriek, she instinctively drew the sword at her waist and shakily pointed it at Zu Hao, while her other hand clutched tightly at her own neck, as if that could block the life-taking throwing knife.

"Y-you... who exactly are you?"

Overcome by terror, Wu Qingying tried to sound fierce. "M-my father is Manor Lord Wu Lie of Zhu Wu Linked Rings Manor! Y-you dare kill me, and my father will definitely tear you to pieces!"

Zu Hao looked at her with disdain. "You let vicious dogs harm others and treat human lives as worthless. Your actions prove that none of you are good people."

"To raise children as spoiled and tyrannical as you, the household discipline of Zhu Wu Linked Rings Manor is plain to see. It has already earned its own destruction."

"They're just some lowly commoners. So what if they died? There—"

Wu Qingying did not believe she had done anything wrong, but upon seeing the icy look in Zu Hao's eyes, she immediately changed her tune. "You've already killed Jiuzhen and my senior brother. Please, spare me! I-I know I was wrong! Those vicious dogs were raised by Zhu Jiuzhen. It has nothing to do with me!"

Zu Hao slowly shook his head. "You do not know you were wrong. You only know that you are about to die."

As soon as his words fell, the sound of galloping hooves rose again in the distance, more urgent and thunderous than before, like a sudden downpour hammering the earth.

Two middle-aged men came racing over on horseback, kicking up dust all along the road.

The man in front had a sallow face and a tall, lean build. He was Wu Lie.

The other was broad-shouldered, with a fair complexion, a short beard, and sharp eyes. He was Zhu Changling.

From afar, the two men saw the hunting dogs and Wei Bi lying dead before the manor, as well as Zhu Jiuzhen's corpse. Seeing Wu Qingying in imminent danger, they were frantic with worry and drove their mounts forward desperately.

The moment Wu Qingying saw help arrive, she was like a drowning person clutching onto driftwood. The humble terror on her face vanished in an instant, replaced by twisted resentment and frenzied delight. She shrieked, "Father! Uncle Zhu! Save me! It was this villain! He killed Jiuzhen and senior brother, and now he wants to kill me too!"

"Kill him! Tear them all to pieces!"

This sudden change of face made her seem like a completely different person, fully exposing her selfishness and cruelty.

Zu Hao watched her clumsy performance coldly and said softly, "See? You will not change. Only death awaits you."

As he spoke, a throwing knife flew from his hand, becoming a streak of startling light.

"Whoosh~"

The throwing knife carried tremendous force, piercing straight through Wu Qingying's heart and bursting out through her chest, bringing with it a spray of tragically beautiful blood. Then, with a thud, it buried itself deep in the trunk of a thick pine tree ahead, trembling slightly.

The resentment and delight on Wu Qingying's face froze instantly.

She lowered her head in disbelief and looked at the bloody hole in her chest, then struggled to raise her head again, looking toward her father, who was charging over with his eyes nearly splitting apart.

Her lips moved as though she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Her delicate body went limp, and she collapsed to the ground, her breath extinguished in an instant.

"Qingying! My daughter—!"

Seeing his beloved daughter die before his eyes, Wu Lie let out a heart-rending howl. His blood surged, and he nearly fell from his horse.

His eyes instantly filled with bloodshot veins as he stared fixedly at Zu Hao. The grief and hatred in that gaze were enough to burn everything to ashes.

"Jiuzhen! You damned bastard!"

Zhu Changling's eyes were also about to split apart when he saw his beloved daughter lying in a pool of blood.

As soon as the two rode close, they immediately leaped down from their horses and charged at Zu Hao.

Their daughters were dead. They no longer had the heart to ask about right or wrong.

Besides, neither Zhu nor Wu had ever been reasonable men.

As descendants of Master Yideng's disciples Zhu Ziliu and Wu Santong, the martial arts practiced by Wu Lie and Zhu Changling were the famed ultimate art of the Dali Duan Clan—One-Yang Finger.

Furthermore, Zhu Changling also practiced the Judge's Brush Technique and was highly skilled in acupoint striking.

Wu Lie, meanwhile, was proficient in the Orchid Acupoint Flicking Hand, whose techniques were refined and insidious.

Unfortunately, the two men ultimately possessed limited talent for martial arts. Having lived in Kunlun for a long time, they had rarely had the chance to spar with true masters. Though they possessed an ultimate art such as One-Yang Finger, after decades they had only grasped its form, not its essence. Their martial arts had always remained at the second-rate level, and they found it difficult to join the ranks of the era's first-rate masters.

At this moment, the pain of losing his daughter made Wu Lie completely lose his reason. With an angry roar, true qi surged through his body. The index finger of his right hand suddenly turned crimson as blood, and with a point through the air, a scorching, fierce finger force shot forth, striking directly at the acupoint on Zu Hao's chest. It was the art of One-Yang Finger!

Yet although this finger force looked fierce, it lacked concentration. Clearly, his mastery was insufficient.

Zhu Changling, meanwhile, drew the finely forged steel judge's brush from his waist.

The brush tip trembled, transforming into several cold stars. Real and feigned strokes intermingled as they enveloped acupoints around Zu Hao's body—"Jianjing," "Qimen," "Lingxu," and others—intending to restrain his movements and coordinate with Wu Lie's fierce assault.

Facing the all-out pincer attack of the two manor lords, Zu Hao shifted aside and arrived before Wei Bi's corpse. He raised a hand and made a pulling gesture through the air. The longsword Wei Bi had dropped seemed to be tugged by an invisible thread, flying into his hand with a whoosh.

Then he gripped the hilt and gave it a slight shake.

"Buzz—!"

The longsword let out a mournful cry and shattered inch by inch, turning into more than a dozen glittering fragments that shot outward.

This technique of drawing an object through the air and shattering a longsword was graceful and effortless, borrowed from the skills of Yu Huatian, the master of Flying Swords of Dragon Gate. In Zu Hao's hands, it carried an even more unfathomable profundity.

Those blade fragments shot toward Wu Lie and Zhu Changling like arrows fired from powerful bows and crossbows, carrying piercing whistles through the air as they descended like a storm.

Wu Lie was charging at the front and bore the brunt of the attack.

Horrified beyond measure, he desperately swung both palms, trying to knock the fragments aside. But they came too swiftly and fiercely, and their force was incomparably great.

Wu Lie barely managed to deflect the first two fragments, but the next seven or eight pieces cut through his body as easily as hot knives through butter!