Three T2 powerhouses

Chu Liuxiang froze.

When they had fought earlier, Wuhua had lost, but his clothes had only gotten a little dirty. Most of that dust had come from him deliberately rubbing himself against the ground to fake his death.

But now?

There was nothing left of Wuhua's otherworldly air. Smear another handful of dirt on his face, and he could join the Beggar Gang on the spot.

Chu Liuxiang's gaze swept repeatedly over him.

First came the moon-white monk's robe, ripped by some unknown sharp weapon from his shoulder all the way down to his left waist. There was also a clear footprint on his chest, while his left arm hung limply, evidently broken by some fierce, forceful fist or palm strike.

The trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth further showed how badly he was wounded.

"There must have been three people who attacked him."

That was the judgment of Chu Liuxiang's years of experience.

At that moment, Wuhua's eyes brimmed with hatred and a trace of despair as he looked at Fang Yunhua.

He understood that he would probably not leave these rear mountains alive.

Just then, footsteps sounded from downstream, seemingly made audible on purpose.

Chu Liuxiang first looked toward one side of the woods, where an old monk in monastic robes stood with a stern expression.

"Master Tiannan!"

The old monk gave Chu Liuxiang a slight nod, then stood quietly where he was.

Chu Liuxiang's gaze returned to Wuhua's injured left arm. He had already recognized the Shaolin technique-the Dragon-Subduing and Tiger-Taming Arhat Fist.

As a Southern Shaolin expert second only to Master Tianfeng, and the head of the Discipline Hall, Master Tiannan could easily overpower a mere Wuhua. After all, there was still a clear gulf between T3 and T2.

Then his gaze shifted to the other side of the stream.

A plainly dressed old man emerged from there.

"Senior Dai of the Beggar Gang?"

"Fragrant Marshal Chu." Dai Duxing gave Chu Liuxiang a slight nod.

He was currently the Beggar Gang's strongest expert. After reaching an agreement with Mount Hua's leadership, he had come to Putian Shaolin Temple to confirm the final cleanup.

Next, they would need the authorities and Chu Liuxiang's reputation to vouch for their account, pinning everything on a grand conspiracy orchestrated by Japan.

This also concerned the final clearing of the Beggar Gang's name, so naturally he would attend in person.

Of course, part of his reason for coming was to meet Fang Yunhua himself-the man who had reduced his Beggar Gang to such a sorry state, only for them to end up having to thank him for letting them off the hook.

By then, Chu Liuxiang had also identified the footprint on Wuhua's chest. It had come from Dai Duxing's Drunken Reclining Across a Thousand Rivers Kick.

His lightness skill was no worse than Wuhua's even with the latter's Japanese Ninja Arts enhancing it. Dai Duxing ranked at T2 precisely because his kicking techniques were exceptionally formidable.

Chu Liuxiang now felt that Wuhua's defeat was hardly undeserved. Against either of these two seniors, he would have been certain to lose.

As for the third man, he seemed quite unfamiliar.

Yet from the way he behaved, he appeared to know Fang Yunhua very well.

"He's not much good, either." Shangguan Cangxing walked over to Fang Yunhua's side. "If you want to test your sword on him, you'd be better off sparring with me a few more times."

"A fight to the death is always a little different from ordinary sparring."

The man's strength was undoubtedly T2 as well. He could not compare with the overlord of the Money Gang whom Chu Liuxiang knew of, but he was roughly at the average level of the leaders of the Seven Great Schools.

At that moment, Wuhua also heard Shangguan Cangxing's remark.

"You want to test your sword on me?"

His voice was somewhat low, and a faint surge of anger flashed across his face.

After all, his deep-seated pride could not accept being reduced to meat on a chopping block.

Fang Yunhua calmly nodded.

"You're quite strong, probably close to my level. More importantly, you'll certainly kill me if you get the chance, and I need to witness your death myself. So, for the time being, you're the most suitable opponent for me."

"Opponent... opponent... opponent?? Opponent!!! Hahahahaha!!!"

Wuhua, whose eyes had been filled with despair, was utterly consumed by a mad delight.

"You're also the strongest opponent I've ever encountered. Otherwise, he alone could never have beaten me!"

Wuhua glanced disdainfully at Chu Liuxiang. He no longer concealed his true nature, and the viciousness running through his blood made even Master Tiannan, who had remained composed throughout, frown repeatedly.

"Uh, you seem to have misunderstood a little." Fang Yunhua sighed. "Even without me, you couldn't beat him. Besides, there was a problem with how I phrased that just now. If you mean an opponent in the sense you're imagining, you don't seem to meet that standard.

"To be more precise, you're only a tool for testing my strength.

"Most importantly, you're too cunning. Only by personally sending you to your grave can I rest easy."

Chu Liuxiang did not mind Wuhua's scornful dismissal of him. He merely looked at Master Tiannan in some puzzlement. This head of Southern Shaolin's Discipline Hall was, after all, a man who valued rules above all else.

By rights, however grave Wuhua's sins, he should have taken him back to Southern Shaolin himself to be punished under the temple's rules.

Yet he turned a deaf ear to Fang Yunhua's words, even willingly serving as one of the enforcers blocking Wuhua's escape.

That surprised Chu Liuxiang somewhat.

But when he caught sight of the scattered black ashes at his feet out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to understand some of the reason.

Compared with Wuhua's role as a covert agent for Japan, the deeds recorded in that notebook were what could truly destroy Southern Shaolin in a single stroke. If word spread that a monk had repeatedly acted as a sexual predator while preaching outside the temple, the public would begin to suspect that Southern Shaolin was rotten to its very roots.

And while he pondered this, Wuhua snapped!

"A tool?! If you didn't take me seriously, why would you be here! If you didn't see me as an opponent, why would you come in person to see me off to my death!"

Fang Yunhua scratched his cheek.

What he had just said was the plain truth. He really did not care much about Wuhua or Nangong Ling. The person he had always taken most seriously was Stone Guanyin, who stood behind them.

As for the imagined enemy among his peers whom he feared most, that was Yuan Suiyun.

Rather than saying this entire scheme had been devoted to plotting against the two brothers, it would be more accurate to say that he had simply used his foreknowledge of the Blood Sea Fragrance storyline to strengthen Mount Hua as events unfolded.

But explanations no longer mattered.

He had already seen that, although his words might indeed have bothered Wuhua, they had certainly not upset him enough to provoke such hysterical shouting.

"There should be some secret arts in Japan that let you suppress your injuries briefly, shouldn't there?"

Wuhua, who had been glaring viciously at Fang Yunhua, changed his expression in an instant once again. His eyes were cold, like those of a bloodthirsty wolf.

Fang Yunhua took a saber from Shangguan Cangxing and tossed it straight to Wuhua.

"Even with your injuries, adding this should be enough."

Wuhua endured the agonizing pain as he manipulated his broken left arm and set the bone back into place. Then he drew the long saber with his right hand. There was a clear difference between Wuhua with a blade and Wuhua without one. The keen-edged aura he now displayed drew the attention of everyone present.

"You're far too arrogant!"

"I simply need an accurate understanding of my current strength. You're the most suitable target.

"Because after this, I still have an even more troublesome enemy to face."

Fang Yunhua slowly drew the Skyward Sword as well. Beneath the moonlight, the precious sword, already like ice essence glazed with frost from tip to hilt, seemed to reflect an even more dazzling radiance.