A single stroke vied with wind and cloud to vent its might; a thousand autumns of sun and moon broke through hidden fame

Hearing that pursuers were coming, Qian Luoyi said to Snow Mountain Spirit Eagle Huo Qingge, "These Central Plains folk really do look down on us. A mere dozen or so dare pursue us? Aren't they afraid we'll join forces and beat them till their petals scatter and their waters run?" He had long wished to court this foremost disciple of Shafeina, the Holy Mother of the Eternal Life Holy Church, the greatest religious order on the grasslands. Having coaxed her out this time, he hoped to deepen their relationship. But both Huo Qingge and her junior sister, Grassland Golden Bell Xiao Yiguli, remained like slippery fish, never letting him get a hold on them, much to his resentment.

Huo Qingge spotted the women on horseback. Her eyes suddenly lifted, and a faint smile touched her lips. "A formidable enemy has come this time. She's my prey, General Qian Luoyi. Don't interfere."

Qian Luoyi glanced sideways and cried out in mild surprise, "It's Wang Chong of Wudang! He's a formidable opponent. Qingge, you know him too?"

Huo Qingge looked slightly surprised. "I don't know any Wang Chong of Wudang. Is he one of the Seven True Ones of Wudang?"

"Perhaps not," Qian Luoyi replied. "I've never heard of anyone by that name among the Seven True Ones of Wudang. But he fought me once. We exchanged one move, and neither won."

Huo Qingge and Xiao Yiguli were greatly surprised. They naturally knew Qian Luoyi's martial prowess, which surpassed theirs. After all, he had reached the innate realm before twenty-five, swept through every tribe at the great martial tournament of the Eighteen Tribes of the Grasslands, and taken first place among the thirty-six Divine Generals. His ability was genuine.

Huo Qingge could not help looking toward Wang Chong, though she said, "He isn't my opponent. That extraordinarily beautiful woman with a face like frost and snow is Chess Sword Linglong. I mean to take the measure of one of the Central Plains' ten greatest female martial artists."

Qian Luoyi was also taken aback. Most of the Central Lands' ten greatest female martial artists are old women in their forties or fifties. I've only heard that Wu Hook Frost Snow and Chess Sword Linglong belong to the younger generation. To think I would meet Chess Sword Linglong today.

He gazed into the distance, excitement stirring faintly within him. He very much wanted to challenge Su Luoyan, but remembering his promise to Huo Qingge, he could only turn his gaze back to Wang Chong. Drawing breath, he shouted, "Brother Wang Chong, we meet again! Shall we resume our unfinished fight?"

Wang Chong was just about to refuse-he was a peace-loving man, after all-but Qian Luoyi had already unleashed his lightness skill. Like a great bird, he reached him in a few bounds, turned his hand, and drew his saber. Its light blazed like a rainbow, the force of the stroke savage and fierce. This was the Wolf God's Twelve Kills he had honed in the great desert, with which he had slain untold opponents in his life.

At some point, the Folding Fan in Wang Chong's sleeve had appeared in his hand. He sprang into the air from horseback and focused on executing one of the three great killing moves of the Hundred Styles of Wind and Cloud: A single stroke vied with wind and cloud to vent its might; a thousand autumns of sun and moon broke through hidden fame! In an instant, the two exchanged a hundred and seventeen blows. Saber and fan collided, their sharp ringing merging into an unbroken peal.

Two figures crossed, one exceptionally brawny, the other nimble and light. Wang Chong landed on the grass and let out a long breath. "What formidable saber technique."

Qian Luoyi's saber cut through empty air and halted aloft. Without turning his head, he said, enunciating every word, "The secret arts passed down through Wudang Mountain's direct lineage are extraordinary indeed. Among the formidable enemies I've encountered in my life, you rank seventh."

Unable to contain his curiosity, Wang Chong asked, "Who are the six ahead of me?"

Qian Luoyi replied proudly, "First is naturally my master, Zhao Feishan, the current Turkic State Preceptor."

Su Luoyan said from the side, "Master Zhao is one of the five supreme masters under heaven, ranked alongside Immortal Master Guanlong of Taiyi Abbey, Elder Kong Chan of Shaolin, Daoist Kuchа, the head of Wudang Mountain, and this dynasty's Heavenly Empress. We of the younger generation naturally fall far short."

This was Wang Chong's first time hearing of the five supreme masters. He clicked his tongue in wonder. "I haven't even studied martial arts for twenty years. Naturally, I'm no match for the Turkic State Preceptor."

Qian Luoyi continued, "Second is Han Hexuan, the last remaining grandmaster of the Xianbei."

"I'm certainly no match for a grandmaster either," Wang Chong said.

Qian Luoyi said, "The person in third place is..."

"Forget it. My fighting spirit is soaring now, and I must settle who is superior between Brother Wang Chong and me. We can discuss the other five another day when there's time. Let's hurry up and finish this fight."

Wang Chong hastily called out, "The other four..."

Qian Luoyi's weathered face reddened. Born beyond the frontier, he had never attended school and was poor at arithmetic. He had indeed miscounted.

Unwilling to continue this embarrassing topic, the New Generation Wolf God of the Turks shouted and leaped into the air. Dazzling cold light sprang from his saber. This was the most domineering move of the Wolf God's Twelve Kills, the technique he took such lifelong pride in-Ten Thousand Wolves Race to the Moon!

Wang Chong's True Qi surged without end as his Folding Fan swept out. At this moment, the Hundred Styles of Wind and Cloud that had come with his transmigration shed all immaturity and attained seamless perfection. Yielding not an inch to Qian Luoyi's saber, he met it head-on with solid, forceful blows.

Both pushed their arts to the utmost. After a round of exchanges, they darted apart. Qian Luoyi's left sleeve had been shortened, while a long slash had opened in Wang Chong's scholar's robe. Astonishingly, they were still evenly matched.

Huo Qingge said quietly, "He is certainly no ordinary disciple of Wudang Mountain."

Xiao Yiguli nodded slightly, an unusual gleam blooming in her beautiful eyes. "The Central Plains truly conceal dragons and crouching tigers. Even a mere young lad is so capable. Still, he is no match for Qian Luoyi. Within thirty moves at most, he'll fall behind." Renowned throughout the Western Regions, the two women had been specially assigned by the Holy Mother to protect Princess Ayi on her journey to Chang'an. Their discernment and experience were both exceptional, and their judgment was exceedingly accurate.

On this journey to Chang'an to pay respects to the Heavenly Empress, the two sisters' considerable fame had brought repeated teasing from the city's noble young scions. Yet every one of them had powerful backing. However disgusted the women were, they could not beat them up. Xiao Yiguli had long been bottling up her frustration. Now, a sudden whim struck her, and she wanted only to indulge herself. Adding a hefty armful of "firewood," she smiled. "Young master, if you can last thirty moves against General Qian Luoyi, how about this big sister treats you to mutton?"

Wang Chong had never imagined a martial contest could be so exhilarating. After seventeen or eighteen fierce exchanges with Qian Luoyi, each move he made came faster than the last. He was already exerting himself to the utmost, with no attention to spare, yet he was gradually falling behind. Hearing this, he could not help shouting, "Brother Qian Luo, hold a moment!"

Qian Luoyi held his saber still without striking and asked curiously, "Are you conceding, Brother Wang?"

Wang Chong shook his head. "I need to change weapons."

He called to Chu Qiuzi, "Chu Fairy, lend me your sword."

Chu Qiuzi smiled gracefully and was about to unfasten the sword at her waist when the maid who had brought the news-whose eyes and brows were alluring, whose glances brimmed with charm, and whose every movement was enchantingly graceful-suddenly unfastened her own sword. Channeling her strength, she hurled it over and called, "Young Master Wang, please use this maidservant's sword."

Wang Chong did not care whose sword it was. He reached out and caught it, pressed the spring catch, and slowly drew the blade. Its light shone jade-green, casting a chill over beard and brows. Unable to resist, he flicked it lightly. Hearing its faint singing and clear metallic ring, he praised it. "A fine sword indeed!"

Seizing the chance to show off, he said, "A beauty lends me her sword, born of Kunwu Stream. It mirrors faces like water, and slices jade like mud."

"Brother Qian Luoyi, you're in trouble today."

...Qian Luoyi: What do you mean, I'm in trouble...