A sword stirs the flower pavilion (part two)

"Ah-"

With a piercing scream, the red gauze billowed apart in a fierce gust, and a figure staggered out of the octagonal pavilion.

"Second brother, hurry... cut him down!"

Zhang Hengye turned toward the covered walkway, his expression panicked. His right palm had been pierced through, blood soaking his sleeve, and a bloody hole in his right chest gushed like a spring. Most horrifying of all, the blue-steel sword had pinned his left palm to his left chest.

The sword sank deeper, threatening to pierce his heart at any moment.

Willows Sway in the Wind, one sword, three shadows.

"Die!"

Li Yu pursued with long strides, his five slender fingers gripping the sword hilt, his handsome face filled with killing intent.

"How could this happen..."

The guests craned their necks to look and were immediately stunned.

Zhou Xiao clapped his hands and exclaimed, "This man's swordsmanship has already crossed the threshold into true mastery!"

Yang Le folded his arms, his expression shifting between fear and envy.

A cold gleam flashed in Sun Laoba's lone eye. He spotted a dark red patch on the back of the blue robe and quietly pressed his hand to his saber hilt.

"Hurry, attack! Unless we get rid of him, we'll never have a moment's peace..."

Zhang Hengye retreated, urgently shouting for help. What did he care about any damned rules of the martial world now!

Even if he survived this, restoring his martial arts to their former level would be harder than scaling heaven. The martial world was a jungle, and his enemies would never give him time to recover at leisure. His favorable position had spun completely out of control.

"Big brother!"

Zhu Tuo's eyes widened as though they would split, and he hurled himself forward. After Zhang Hengye had ordered him back earlier, he had stood beneath the covered walkway, even farther away than Sun Laoba and Zhou Xiao. He surged several yards forward, raised his hand, and flung the Lotus Softshell Turtle Head Pestle toward the octagonal pavilion.

"Watch my pestle! Don't hurt my big brother!"

This was Black Softshell Turtle Head's unique ultimate skill. Propelled by internal force, it never missed within fifty paces.

"Brother Zhang, I'll help you!"

At the same moment, Sun Laoba suddenly drew his saber, kicked over a table, and attacked from the right.

"Shameless..."

Someone among the guests cursed, yet could not help admiring his decisiveness.

Of the four gangs of the South Canal, the Tyrant Tiger Gang controlled prosperous Mudu Town. With money and manpower, it regarded itself as their leader.

Sun Laoba, nicknamed "Thousand-Jin Saber," excelled at wielding a heavy saber.

He had already been a third-rate expert many years ago. Though he had never broken through, the tempering of the years had made his saber technique ever more refined.

Now Li Yu was the one in a predicament.

On his left, the Lotus Softshell Turtle Head Pestle hurtled toward him like an arrow.

On his right came "Thousand-Jin Saber," with the momentum of a fierce tiger.

"Hahaha!"

Seeing a chance to turn the tables, Zhang Hengye disregarded his injuries, closed his hand into a fist, and gripped the blade. Their eyes met, and he stared fixedly at Li Yu. Every extra breath he held him there brought his opponent one step closer to the road to the Yellow Springs.

He had never hated anyone this much!

He had given everything, including... his dignity, for this favorable position, only for one man and one sword to hack it to pieces.

"Whoosh!"

The Lotus Softshell Turtle Head Pestle arrived first.

"Slash!"

Li Yu's eyes were icy. His sword swept upward, slicing off half of Zhang Hengye's hand, flesh and bone together. He spun and thrust diagonally left with Willow Leaf Flying Arrows, softness within hardness, knocking aside the solid iron short pestle weighing seventeen or eighteen jin.

"A perfect opening!"

Sun Laoba sneered, his lone eye cold. He turned his left palm over, three iron nails held between his fingers. Just as he was about to throw them, a strange sound suddenly reached his ears, like an old crow's harsh call, but extremely brief.

"Thud!"

Cloth tore.

This time it was not behind him, but in front...

Huh?

He looked down, his smile freezing. A strangely shaped arrowhead had emerged from his lower abdomen. Like a bird's beak or a steel chisel, it was exceptionally sharp, and the gaping wound was so large that it had dragged out half a length of glistening white intestine.

"Fuck, that hurts like a bitch..."

An enormous force struck him. Sun Laoba pitched forward five or six paces, his head hitting the flower pavilion. His eyes bulged as he released his broad saber, blood pouring from beneath his belly like a downpour.

A strange arrow protruded from his back, as thick as a finger and around nine inches long.

Its tail seemed fitted with some mechanism, which spun and trembled, emitting wisps of white smoke.

Sun Laoba died a gruesome death. After his blood drained away, shredded flesh continued spilling from the hole until his belly was empty. The strange arrow had churned all his internal organs to pieces in an instant.

"Gang leader..."

"Gang leader!"

"Our mighty, tiger-like gang leader!"

Seven Tyrant Tiger Gang disciples wanted to rush forward and retrieve his corpse, but feared that sword light. After a few affected cries, they hid among the guests, playing dead dogs. No one had expected that a vicious battle between Li Yu and Zhang Hengye would end with their own gang leader reaching the Yellow Springs first.

Who could they turn to for justice?

"Watch out, big brother! Someone's up above..."

Zhu Tuo was loyal indeed. Braving swords in the open and arrows from the shadows, he desperately dragged Zhang Hengye back from the pavilion.

"The smoke is poisonous..."

Smelling the strange odor of saltpeter, the guests covered their noses, terrified that another silent, uncanny arrow would come flying, hunting down souls and stealing spirits, killing without a trace. They looked up toward the rooftops and saw a black-robed figure suddenly standing at the southwest corner, her face covered in black gauze, her body tightly wrapped, her cold, moonlike eyes looking down.

She slung the crossbow case onto her back, glanced west toward Lake Tai, then raced seven or eight steps along the roof ridge. Her figure rose and fell, quickly vanishing among the soaring eaves and steep walls.

At the southeast corner, two heads quietly appeared.

The woman in pale clothes knitted her brows. "That's the person we met in the Apricot Grove that day."

Abi exclaimed in surprise, "Her arrows are so powerful! They even give off white smoke?"

The woman in white smiled. "That's called a Divine Crow Crossbow. It can pierce a second-rate expert's protective internal force. Using it here was rather wasteful."

Abi asked curiously, "Sister, what's a Divine Crow Crossbow? Why have I never heard of it?"

"Very few people in the martial world know about it. It's a concealed weapon developed by the imperial court, supposedly designed to deal with experts. It's expensive to make, easily damaged, and takes a long time to reload. It isn't very practical, and was abandoned long ago."

"She left after firing just one arrow. I wonder what her relationship is with the Fish-Dragon Gang's leader?"

As she spoke, the woman glanced at Abi. Seeing her as innocent and carefree as ever, she felt reassured. Both had been personally adopted by Master Murong. Though nominally maidservants, they were effectively half-mistresses of the household and could not lightly develop feelings for outsiders.

Meanwhile, before the octagonal pavilion.

"You're dead..."

Clutching his severed palm, Zhang Hengye screamed fiercely in his terror, with none of his original poise remaining.

"Everyone, attack together! Whoever kills him becomes deputy gang leader!"

"Swish!"

Sword light thrust out, and another gang member fell, pierced through the throat. How could he possibly survive?

"Come on, if you're not afraid to die!"

Li Yu had also taken a saber cut to his left shoulder, and blood streamed from it. His cold gaze swept across them. Lifting the red gauze, he slipped into the octagonal pavilion, raised the yellow-skinned gourd, and tipped his head back to drink deeply. The last half-jin of plum wine poured down his throat.

Between life and death, his heroic spirit surged, and his internal force roiled.

He suddenly discovered that the crimson Wine Worm had opened its eyes and fully awakened. It swam freely in the spring pool, spewing stream after stream of internal force. In an instant, he crossed the threshold of a third-rate expert, his internal force advancing to twice what it had been...

"Surround him! Surround him!"

"He can't escape!"

Over a hundred gang members leveled their swords and sabers, surrounding the octagonal pavilion from every side and advancing slowly. Many glanced around, afraid that if they took even half a step too far, that graceful sword light would flash out and claim their lives.

"Hahaha! Fine wine!"

A hearty laugh suddenly rang out from the pavilion, rolling on without end. Fierce gusts swirled, lifting the red gauze to reveal the scene within: one man, one sword, drinking boldly before the flowers. The sight won admiration from onlookers and struck fear into his enemies.

"Clang!"

Amid that laughter, some Black Flood Dragon Gang members trembled with terror, their limbs going weak and their weapons falling to the ground.

Zhang Hengye sank into utter despair.

"Why has his internal force grown instead of diminished after so many bitter battles?"