Shi Feiyang formed a plan and ordered Leng Yun to go to Green Ram Palace again.
Leng Yun took more than twenty fellow disciples, each carrying a weapon on his back, to Green Ram Palace and challenged its occupants from outside the main gate.
Soon, the Daoists inside came out. "I thought you'd invited some mighty expert down from Emei Mountain. Turns out it's still you defeated dogs! My master said the Emei Sect offended the Blood God Patriarch and was forced to seal its mountain to protect itself, with its disciples too scared to venture out. Looks like it's true! No matter how many times you come, it's always the same few rotten cloves of garlic!"
The martial heroes on the Emei Sect's side could hardly stomach such humiliation. They raised their palms and drew their swords, ready to fight to the death.
Leng Yun stopped them. "I'm the eldest senior disciple of Emei's Lower Court. I had other business and couldn't come before. Now I'll take you on!"
After what had happened with Yu Yunzhong, Leng Yun was no longer as reckless as he had once been. A few days earlier, he had listened to his returning junior disciples describe the enemy's various Swordsmanship techniques and sinister arts. Knowing he was no match for them, he had not come down to force himself into the fray. Instead, he had gone to Jade Emperor Temple to wait for Shi Feiyang to emerge from seclusion. Now that Shi Feiyang stood behind him, he finally had the confidence to draw his treasured sword, take his stance, and fight the Daoist.
Leng Yun had always been a martial prodigy. A stream of true qi from Shi Feiyang had granted him sixty years' worth of cultivation out of thin air.
He could not