"I am merely a ghost who cannot bear the light, Lord Yang. Even if you kill me, what good would it do?"
The Linen-Clad Elder watched Yang Ge approach with his saber dragging behind him, without a trace of fear in his dim old eyes.
Yang Ge smiled at his words. "What fun is there in being a pretend ghost? If you're going to be one, you might as well be a real ghost!"
The Linen-Clad Elder said, "Whether I live or die is of little consequence. But you, Lord Yang, are a brilliant young talent with a great future. Why insist on rolling around in this mire? Leave others a little room, and you can meet again on good terms!"
The smile on Yang Ge's face suddenly turned savage. "A mouthful of rhymes-are you cramming for a postgraduate entrance exam?"
He raised his saber and chopped at the Linen-Clad Elder, Blade Qi coursing along the blade, contained rather than released.
The Linen-Clad Elder turned sideways to evade the blade, thrusting his Bronze Staff toward Yang Ge's throat like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
His slash missing, Yang Ge swept his saber outward, its edge sliding along the staff as he suddenly lunged forward, trying to break through its reach.
The Linen-Clad Elder steadied his Bronze Staff to block the Gold-Inlaid Ox-Tail Saber, then whipped its tail upward, striking at Yang Ge's throat again like a Heaven-Piercing Fist.
Yang Ge leaned back evasively and snapped out a kick as fast as a cannonball leaving its barrel, aimed straight at the Linen-Clad Elder's chest.
The Linen-Clad Elder turned and crouched, changing the staff's rising strike into a sweep that jabbed Yang Ge's right wrist.
Bang.
The blade-like force of the kick shattered the flower bed behind the elder, plowing the