Committing a Crime in Broad Daylight; The Many-Armed Bear Listens to the Commotion from Next Door; Rooting Out Traitors by Night; A Heroine Destroys a Giant Thief at the Zen Gate. - Sword Xia of the Shu Mountains

Old Man Zhuoyun did not respond right away. Instead, he calculated with his fingers and said, “No, no, a few more calamity-bound people have yet to arrive. Besides, we must eradicate evil completely. We should endure a bit longer, wait for their reinforcements to arrive, and catch them all in one fell swoop to prevent them from harming the world further. Destroying the temple now, although they are weak, we are also too few in number. Moreover, the Four Venerable Ones in the temple, Mao Tai, and his band of followers are highly formidable, despite being of the left-hand path. Wei Qing and Zhou Chun do not know swordsmanship; Sun Nan and Qing Yun, although they do, are at most a match for Mao Tai and others. Recently, I encountered Sun Nan's master, Li Huzhi. Because he is swift afoot, I asked him to invite a few friends to meet at Biyun Abode on the first day of the New Year. At that time, we can discuss the strategy to uproot the temple to eliminate future troubles.” Taoist Drunkard nodded in agreement, “Senior’s words are indeed sensible. However, on my way here, I encountered Qing Yun. She implored me multiple times to assist her and intends to scout the movements at Ciyun Temple tonight. With your foresight, is it advisable for her to go?” Zhuoyun replied, “The ascetic monk once told me that the revival of our path relies entirely on the two Yuns. One is diligently cultivating at Jiuhua, and the other is so dedicated—truly commendable. Go then, but do not show yourself, only aid her in secret. Upon achieving slight victory, return immediately. The demon monk Zhitong may not yet know of our grand scheme next year, better not to alert him to seek out remnants of his late master, thus saving us future trouble.” With that, he parted ways with Zhou Chun, Wei Qing, Sun Nan, and the Taoist Drunkard. Zhou Chun, having only just reunited with his daughter, had barely exchanged a few words before they had to separate, finding it hard to part. Zhuoyun said, “Such attachments are unbecoming of a sword hero. She will certainly be victorious, and you’ll have plenty of time to converse tomorrow, why rush?” Zhou Chun advised Qing Yun not to be careless and to heed the Taoist’s guidance, to which she readily agreed, and they dispersed without further mention. As for the sinister monk Zhitong of Ciyun Temple, ever since Pink Butterfly Zhang Liang vanished while plucking flowers, Zhou Yun escaped the dungeon, and the Zhang family fled, many incidents have transpired within a month or two, leaving him thoroughly displeased. Notably, Mao Tai’s thirst for revenge drove him to repeatedly attempt to leave the temple to seek Zhou Chun, but each time, Zhitong stopped him. Mao Tai perceived this as cowardice from Zhitong, creating an invisible rift. One evening, both engaged in the practice of Joyful Zen in a secret chamber, watching the heavenly demons dance, a significant misunderstanding arose over one of Zhitong’s concubines. Despite being lecherous and wicked, Zhitong was wary of his master’s downfall and took great pains to establish Ciyun Temple. Thus, he refrained from committing crimes locally, sending his disciples, the Four Venerable Ones, to neighboring provinces twice a year to engage in illicit deeds, occasionally bringing back beautiful women for pleasure. Fresh and fickle by nature, any woman of integrity was immediately killed, while those licentious or temporarily subdued by fear might enjoy a year’s favor before being discarded as dancers. Three years ago, a female thief named Yang Hua was caught within the temple. Initially intending to humiliate and then kill her for daring to provoke him, Zhitong discovered, upon stripping her, an extraordinary, jade-like complexion beneath her otherwise plain face—smooth as silk and extraordinarily alluring. His lust was ignited, and given the status of abbot, he claimed her first. Found that, besides her fair and delicate skin, she was exceptionally lascivious, the experience beyond words. Despite many women passing through his hands, Zhitong had never encountered such novelty. Afterward, she became his exclusive favorite, forbidden for any disciple. Though disgruntled, having a multitude of beauties lessened the impact over time. When Mao Tai first arrived at the temple, Zhitong was eager to ally against the Emei sword hero by currying favor with Mao Tai and his master. By chance, Yang Hua, emboldened by her favored status, quarreled with Zhitong. In a fit of anger, he handed Yang Hua to Mao Tai as a gesture of goodwill. Mao Tai, receiving such a treasure, was naturally grateful. However, without Yang Hua, Zhitong found other women unsatisfying but couldn’t easily retract the offer. Only when Mao Tai was away would he covertly enjoy her, to his great inconvenience. Yang Hua, aware of his predicament, teased him, leaving him torn. Fortunately, two lovely women were recently abducted from a neighboring province, prompting Zhitong to suggest Mao Tai exchange Yang Hua back. Reluctant though Mao Tai was, being under Zhitong’s roof, he reluctantly agreed. This love triangle inevitably drew attention, with neither party willing to publicly acknowledge their jealousy. That night, it was Mao Tai and Yang Hua’s turn. Due to the delay of Zhitong's recruited reinforcements, Mao Tai, mocking Zhitong’s timidity, secretly left the temple to scout for Zhou Chun’s whereabouts without informing him. Coincidentally hearing about an execution at the county magistrate’s involving a flower thief, Mao Tai feared it might be Zhang Liang and went to investigate. The offender’s body, unclaimed by any victim, was left outside the city for burial after lunch, only covered by a mat. Mao Tai, suspecting it was Zhang Liang, rushed to lift the mat and confirmed his fears—his beloved disciple, head separated, legs and knees severed, an utterly gruesome sight. The notice posted beside the corpse still proclaimed “Flower-picking murderer, executed—Zhang Liang.” Nearly fainting from shock, he knew that no ordinary county constable could defeat Zhang Liang; it must have been a formidable adversary. Bound by deep feelings of affection with Zhang Liang, he resolved to return to the temple to consult Zhitong on discovering the culprit. Nearby caretakers noticed the suspicious behavior of a tall monk lifting the mat and inquired. Mao Tai presented himself as a monk from Ciyun Temple, citing compassion for preserving the wretched body. He offered twenty silver taels for a coffin and burial, with remainder as gratitude. The well-respected Ciyun Temple commanded respect even from officials; moreover, caretakers, keen on additional benefits, readily agreed. Impressed by the temple’s reputation, they promptly handled posthumous arrangements. Mao Tai aided in preparing the body for burial, mourned profoundly over Zhang Liang’s tomb, which, witnessing unusual behavior, the caretakers chose not to perturb, instead extending their courtesy. Mao Tai provided another five silver taels for their efforts before leaving. His farewell coincided with Zhou Chun being taken by Wei Qing to the woods—had it not been for Zhou Chun’s jest, Mao Tai might have directly confronted them. Let this be set aside for now. Upon returning to the temple, forlorn and enraged by his disciple’s demise, Mao Tai hurried from the city. Passing nearby a dense mist hovering in the forest, beautifully silhouetted by the setting sun, he mused. Realization dawned—such dense fog was rare in clear autumn, especially under a bright sunset. Could treasure's aura be radiating, indicating its emergence? With this curiosity in mind, he arrived at the temple gates, seeking Zhitong, scouring the meditation quarters to no avail. A novice monk informed him that Zhitong had been seen heading to the rear hall, presumably searching for him. Unconcerned, Mao Tai proceeded to the rear hall. Adjacent to this hall were his quarters. Approaching his window, he discerned soft, intermittent sounds. Peeking through the window crevice, fury surged within. His sole beloved, Yang Hua, lay bare on his bed like a sacrificial lamb, with Zhitong vigorously engaging amidst heavy breaths and whispering endearments. Initially, Mao Tai intended to confront Zhitong, querying this breach of agreement to intrude during his scheduled time. Yet, reminding himself of their communal enjoyment agreement and that Yang Hua belonged to Zhitong, he controlled his temper, both needing Zhitong’s aid for other matters. Settling his emotions, he eavesdropped, a test of Yang Hua’s sincerity. Yet, the very first overheard exchange pierced his heart with jealousy, nearly causing faintness. Yang Hua, naturally indecent, delivered the most beguiling words, prompting Zhitong to ask while catching his breath, “My lovely darling, tell me the truth, am I not superior to that charlatan?” Listening intently from outside the window, Mao Tai was eager to hear Yang Hua's response. He thought, "Given her affection for me, even if she doesn't sing my praises in front of Zhitong, she surely wouldn't speak ill of me." To his surprise, Yang Hua, after hearing Zhitong's question, coyly turned her head to the side and responded in a sultry voice, "Oh, my dear monk, you shouldn't have brought him up. Mentioning that wretch nearly makes me want to bite you in anger. When you first showed me kindness, things were so different. But he chose to be petty, becoming a willing cuckold, using me to make friends. Then he regretted it and wanted me back, but after savoring sweetness, who would agree to that arrangement? Clear as day, I was yours, yet somehow I became the guest in my own home. Willingly being a cuckold, serves him right! Whenever I'm with that wretch, missing fingers and all, I pray for dawn. His legs are as thick as pillars, his body heavy as a buffalo's, suffocating me. Who knows what he was up against to lose those fingers? It's nauseating. He clumsily tells me it was from childhood sores, but I know it was from a weapon. I only tolerantly listen to his nonsense, hoping to use him for some task later. But I doubt he's capable of anything other than idle boasting. I wish he would encounter worthy adversaries one night and see if he can hold his ground. If not, we should kick him out quickly so neither of us endures the burden." Immersed solely in pleasing Zhitong, Yang Hua did not anticipate the vividness with which Mao Tai could hear. Moreover, Zhitong, under the assumption Mao Tai had gone to find Zhou Chun and would be gone for days, joined her in ridiculing him without concern. Mao Tai’s fiery temperament could withstand no more. Furious, with caution thrown to the wind, he shouted defiantly, "Traitorous harlot, so you've insulted me thus?!" As his words echoed, a beam of yellow light shot towards Yang Hua’s head. She, caught unprepared, shrieked, "Oh no! Master, save me!" Zhitong, momentarily stunned, hastily yanked Yang Hua aside, tucking her under his arm, dodging frantically. Mao Tai, resolved to see Yang Hua dead, relentlessly pursued with his Chi Yin Sword. Fortunately, the room's expansive space provided Zhitong, despite being stark naked, and carrying the equally unclad Yang Hua, the agility to dodge swiftly, his lightweight skills akin to a bird's flight sparing both their lives. However, such evasive maneuvers could not last—his post-exertion stamina waned, arms encumbered, danger loomed imminent. In this dire juncture, a loud voice chuckled from the window, "A distant visitor comes to call, and you engage in clandestine swordplay? Let me dissolve this quarrel for you both." With laughter, a golden light enveloped the room—a bright, one-foot-sized circle suspended in mid-air, ensnaring both Zhitong's and Mao Tai’s sword glows, immobilizing them instantly. Startled, both looked up to see a towering figure over eight feet in height. His round eyes, pallid face devoid of any ruddy hue, exuded a menacing glare. Decked in a fiery red robe, with protruding ears laden with gold rings, bare head and feet encased in simple straw sandals, his visage was decidedly wicked. Upon seeing him, Zhitong rejoiced, exclaiming, "Senior Brother, what auspicious wind blew you here?" Mao Tai, eager for assistance, found the figure vaguely familiar but couldn't quite place him, refraining from acknowledgment. The newcomer, seemingly amused, said, "You two, sheath your treasures. What family quarrel could justify injury? Come now, enlighten me, so I can mediate." The disgraced monks dared not reveal the truth, each hanging their head in silence and retrieving their swords. The visitor then retracted his own artifact, Mao Tai cautiously inquired, "Forgive my poor recall, but could you remind me where I’ve met this senior brother?" The man laughed heartily, "Brother, have you forgotten Yuan De from the Golden Body Arhat’s sect?" It dawned on Mao Tai, Powder-faced Buddha Yuan De was indeed his senior brother, sharing discipleship under the Golden Body Arhat. When a Tibetan Poison Dragon Master visited, taken by Yuan De's remarkable appearance, he insisted on taking him as a disciple, particularly after losing his own disciple, Zhou Zhonghui, in a duel at Mount Emei. Despite their brief time together, Yuan De, affectionate towards his junior brothers, led them to the main hall, where after suppertime he mediated peace. Yuan De addressed them, after exchanging pleasantries, "What matter stirred such discord?" Reluctant to confess such humiliation, Zhitong remained silent, but the blunt Mao Tai, venting his frustration, recounted the affair over Yang Hua in painstaking detail. Yuan De burst into laughter, "So much fuss over this trifling matter? Why jeopardize bonds for such nonsense? Reconcile for my sake, won't you?" Embarrassed, Zhitong and Mao Tai, both acknowledged their faults and amicably reconciled. Amidst cheerful conversation, after supper, Zhitong narrated the temple’s past couple of months' troubles to Yuan De, pleading for his assistance. Yuan De, deep in contemplation, listened. Mao Tai, growing alert, interjected, remembering, "I almost forgot a more pressing matter. With today’s quarrels and Yuan brother’s arrival, it slipped my mind." Curious, Yuan De and Zhitong promptly inquired about Mao Tai's concerns. "Earlier, I entered the city hoping to seek my enemy and avenge. Instead, I discovered my missing disciple Zhang Liang caught and executed by the authorities with severed feet," Mao Tai recounted. "How strange," Zhitong mused. "I feared harm from the start, with inquiries made at the courthouse, yet no news emerged. Could you be mistaken?" Mao Tai retorted in agitation, "Mistake? When I heard about a flower thief being executed in the county, I rushed to the scene. No mistake, he was not only dead but had his feet cut before captured. I hurried back to discuss revenge, only for that scuffle to nearly destroy brotherly bonds over a mere woman." Yuan De reassured him, "Remain calm. Undoubtedly, it’s not just your matter—it involves powers at Emei determined to thwart us. Move not alone in vengeance; strategize collectively. What else weighs on your mind?" "When I returned in the early evening," Mao Tai continued, "as the sun hadn’t set, a fog formed over several dozen meters of the temple’s forest—like a steaming cauldron, obscuring everything within. Yet the neighboring woods remained clear. Surely treasure is emerging!" Yuan De, having keenly listened, probed further, "Did you investigate?" "I let it be," Mao Tai confessed. "Hurrying back, thinking I’d need assistance, I didn’t. Lucky for us," Yuan De proclaimed anxiously, prompting Zhitong to ask, "Brother, could there indeed be treasure?" Yude sighed heavily, "Treasure? No, our adversary has arrived. Do you think that dense fog welled up from underground? It was conjured by someone's magic. Since that old crone, Ling Xuehong, passed away, only the strange old man, Bai Guyi, could orchestrate such an illusion. This technique, known as 'Mystic Mist Barrier,' is often used by true immortals to shroud their cave entrances in deep mountains, allowing them to cultivate in peace without demonic disturbances. This eccentric old fellow hasn't appeared in two or three decades; he's long vanished from the martial world. Yet, I've heard much about him from my master, the Poison Dragon Sovereign, though I've never met him. Upon hearing Zhi's mention of his emergence, I was half-skeptical. If he's indeed here, exhibiting his skills at the forest's edge, it must be with harmful intent towards us. Should it be him, our small band stands no chance; we must prepare swiftly." Zhitong, though unfamiliar with Old Man Zhuoyun, often heard his master speak of his formidable prowess and was greatly alarmed by Yude's words. Conversely, Mao Tai, who had merely been a solitary bandit during his time on the martial world, never encountered Zhuoyun, who had already receded into seclusion. Ignorant of the true danger, Mao Tai retorted indignantly, "Brother, don't amplify the enemy's strengths while diminishing our own. Lifespans rarely exceed a century—if that strange old man hasn't surfaced in over twenty years, he's likely perished in some remote valley. Who's to say this isn't someone else? At most, the forest mist signals mischief; a mere illusion like this shouldn't instill such fear." Yude replied with a cold smile, "You're unaware of the gravity. By fortune, your sole intent upon returning to the temple spared you from stepping into that mist; elsewise, harm might have come your way. Emei harbors several formidable figures, and that eccentric is exceptional. Let's hope it's not him. Should it be, not even my master, the Poison Dragon Sovereign, would defeat him. Periodically, every thirty or fifty years, they seek promising young disciples to continue their lineage. Two years ago, my master noted they were reviving activity in Sichuan, Shaanxi, Yunnan, and Guizhou—a coincidental juncture when both the Wutai and Tibetan factions also scouted for disciples. Bound to stir conflict, their search endures. It’s said Master Canxia has accepted a daughter of Zhou Chun, one of the Three Heroes of Qilu—known as Zhou Qingyun—as a disciple. Though young and remarkably beautiful, she has rapidly mastered extraordinary skills. Others like the Ascetic Monk, Qi Shuming, and the Bearded Immortal Li Yuanhua, have also found promising proteges. Expect countless future skirmishes; remain vigilant." Mao Tai eagerly inquired, "This Zhou Qingyun is Zhou Chun’s daughter, then? How do you know all this?" Yude explained, "Beyond Wulao Peak of Huangshan lies a sheer cliff, Five Clouds Step, where a senior female sword immortal from Wutai resides in seclusion. She's our master's peer and partook in the Emei sword trials fifty years ago. Realizing Our Ancestor was outmatched against their invincible sword, she prudently withdrew, claiming seclusion for cultivation. However, her true motive is vengeful diligence, aiming to avenge Our Ancestor. Though she avoids confrontation, Master Canxia tolerated her presence at Huangshan. For the last few decades, she discreetly trained able disciples. Only recently has Master Canxia grown suspicious, probing her motives under the guise of discussion, yet she remains tight-lipped, disclosing none of her Emei enmities even to beloved disciples. Though mistrusting, Canxia is powerless against her. Conveniently, she obtained celestial fungus on the Heavenly Capital Peak, rejuvenating her; now, though eighty to ninety, she appears as a bewitching maiden of thirty. Master Canxia once escorted Zhou Qingyun to her cave, where she revealed her closest alliance is with my master, the Poison Dragon Sovereign, whom she visits in Tibet every few years. A lament for missing such talent as Zhou Qingyun despite frequent crossings of Sichuan and Tibet was shared when I chanced upon her at my master’s place. Thus, my knowledge." Zhitong interjected, "You mean the Enchantress of Myriad Marvels, Xu Feiniang?" Yude replied, "Who else but her?" As Mao Tai savored the tale, he clapped and laughed, "Who would've thought Old Man Zhou has such a comely daughter? Meeting her would bring delightful pleasures!" His jest was cut short as a breeze swirled before him, followed by a lightning-quick green flash aimed straight at his chest. He exclaimed, "Not good!" and leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the thrust. Despite his agility, his left shoulder grazed the sword edge, severing half his arm. Zhitong, seasoned in adversaries, swiftly reacted by patting his rear head, releasing three beams of light to fend off the attack. Yude, though slower due to requiring treasures, deployed his circle to contain the assailant's sword glow, while Mao Tai, despite the pain, counterattacked. The intruder, cunningly elusive, vanished just as Yude's Taiyi Circle was unleashed, escaping through the window. Alarmed, the trio rushed outside, finding only starlit skies and rustling trees. Enraged, Yude ascended into the air, spotting a green gleam retreating southward. He shouted, "Bold assassin, where are you fleeing?" While Zhitong instructed Mao Tai to dress his wound, joining Yude in pursuit. Arriving where the green light dissipated, the forest shrouded all traces, prompting Yude to pull Zhitong back, warning, "Brother, don't act rashly. In the dark and shadows, who knows where the attacker lurks? Reckless entry invites ambush. I propose retreating to devise a response." Vexed but helpless, Zhitong hovered at the forest edge, futilely launching lights in every direction, finding no trace of blood upon drawing them back. Persuaded by Yude’s counsel, they reluctantly retreated. Nearing the temple walls, they were suddenly met with sounds of battle. Overhearing commotion, they sprang onto the wall, witnessing a blue-garbed woman skillfully dueling Mao Tai and Yi. Graceful and youthful, she wielded her sword with dragon-like agility, twisting unpredictably. Already beads of sweat dampened Mao Tai and Yi's brows, evidence of their struggle against her incredible prowess. In this fleeting moment, a metallic clang shattered the air as Yi's sword tangled with hers, snapping into pieces. The residual force plummeted like a meteor, leaving behind mere iron husks. Mao Tai, one arm severed and reeling from pain, faced inevitable peril against her entrancing swordsmanship. Swift to aid, Yude and Zhitong dismissed hesitation. Zhitong unleashed three beams of light from his head, while Yude, circling with his left, prepared to unleash Five Poisons Soul-Chasing Red Cloud Sand from his right when a voice warned of a hidden weapon. In a flash, the woman merged with her sword, streaking into the sky as a blue light. Astounded by her second retreat, Yude and Zhitong took flight, pursuing as their own sword glows extended. In this pursuit, a white beam suddenly emerged, striking before them. Incensed, Yude unleashed his red sand upwards. A dense, thunderous cloud enveloped the night sky, howling eerily. Assuming certain injury upon the foe, Yude drew the red sand back, inspecting below and musing darkly, "How peculiar. Despite this unmatched poison, which leaves even invincible swordsmen trembling, its effect is absent. The foe remains elusive." Mid-revelation, Zhitong called attention to a nearby glow. Investigating, Yude retrieved a small sword, about thirteen inches long, glistening though tainted, as if alienated by the dust. Despite its impurity, it pulsated energetically, struggling against Yude's grasp—evidence of its profound spirit. Praising the find, Yude remarked to Zhitong, "Don't underestimate this. Its tenacity against poison alone demonstrates decades of cultivation. Its owner's prowess is evident; forced by peril to abandon their cherished creation as a decoy. Deprived of such a treasure, their flight will falter. Let's pursue swiftly; they can’t have gone far." As Yude prepared to search further with Zhitong, he heard the swish of a hidden blade. Instinctively tilting his head, he dodged, but not swiftly enough—the projectile grazed his left cheek, knocking out two molars and drawing a steady stream of blood. Before he could comprehend, a shadow swept past him with speed and precision, snatching the spoils from his hand. In mere moments, the shadow became a figure who skillfully landed a double-footed kick to Yude’s chest, leveraging the force to take flight like a swift swallow, merging with their sword into a streak of green, vanishing into the sky. So agile and unparalleled was the intruder that even seasoned veterans like Yude and Zhitong found themselves utterly at a loss. Zhitong, witnessing the enemy evade capture, was consumed by a towering rage. Pursuing with his best speed, he could only watch as the green light pierced through clouds, leaving no trace. Dejected, he returned to Yude, who lay unconscious from the pain. As Zhitong moved to assist, a despondent Yi staggered out, aiding in carrying Yude inside. Removing Yude’s garb revealed two distinct, clear footprints on his chest, confirming their attacker was a woman wearing steel-bottomed sword boots that inflicted such grievous injury. If not for Yude's superior inner and outer martial arts, this could have pierced his vitals. He weakly gasped as he spat blood and passed out, prompting Zhitong to administer emergency medicine, albeit without success in alleviating the agony. Left with no choice, Zhitong cursed the assailant in vain and opted to leave Mao Tai and Yude in separate chambers to recuperate, groaning in agony. Who, then, were these audacious assailants? After bidding farewell to Old Man Zhuoyun, the Drunken Taoist and Zhou Qingyun shared provisions and wine from a red gourd within a forest. That evening, they arrived at Ciyun Temple amidst Yude, Zhitong, and Mao Tai’s vigorous debate. Qingyun, eager to confront them, was repeatedly restrained by the Drunken Taoist, who outlined Yude’s formidable prowess and a strategy involving stealth to inflict injury without directly engaging what would likely be a losing battle. Despite sticking to the plan, Mao Tai’s disrespectful comments incensed Qingyun, prompting her to unleash her flying sword with the intent to decapitate Mao Tai, managing only to sever part of his arm. Later, even as Yude’s circle was unleashed, Qingyun assessed its power and retreated, knowing her limits, withdrawing into the forest as planned with the Drunken Taoist assisting along the way. Yet, in frustration at Mao Tai’s continued escape, and ignoring the Drunken Taoist’s counsel, she circled back into the temple aiming to claim Mao Tai’s head. Despite her resolve, Mao Tai, now wary, was prepared, engaging in struggle until joined by Yi, who sought to aid after hearing of Zhitong’s pursuit of the attacker. However, having trained under Master Canxia and blessed with inherent talent, Qingyun easily shattered Yi’s sword, pressing the advantage over Mao Tai until Yude and Zhitong returned, forcing her to flee to avoid the deadly red sand. Concerned that she disregarded instructions, the Drunken Taoist prepared contingencies, knowing of the red sand’s fearsome reputation, daring not to intervene initially. When he saw Qingyun's situation, risking his own cultivated sword aura, he guided her escape. Despite the heartbreak of losing his treasured sword, the risk of the sand was too great to retrieve it. Qingyun, though touched by the Drunken Taoist's sacrifice of his weapon for her rescue, felt both shame and anger that she decimated her opponent but failed to acquire his head. Buoyed by youthful vigor and skilled audacity, she nonetheless resolved to attempt reclaiming the weapon. When the Drunken Taoist failed to stop her, it was Old Man Zhuoyun’s voice she heard mocking, "So, Taoist Drunkard, have you run out of tricks this time?” Recognizing the voice, the Drunken Taoist rejoiced, replying, "It’s you who insisted I protect the young'un, yet she's so headstrong. You owe me a sword. With her flying ahead, aren’t you going to assist? Should anything happen, how would you face Master Canxia?" Zhuoyun assured, "This youngster reminds me of myself in my early days—a promising figure for Emei's future. Though she's encountered a couple of hurdles, nothing shall go amiss. Your sword shall be returned, replaced even with a superior blade upon her. And as for your original sword, once I take it to the mountain and cleanse it with the Nine Turns of Hundred Herbs Elixir, it shall be restored to you. Sweeten the deal, all thanks to this old man aiding your fortune.” Upon mentioning, Qingyun returned, brandishing her reclaimed sword with satisfaction, boasting of landing a two-footed strike on Yude during her departure. Relishing her feat, the Drunken Taoist reproved, "Youngster, you're too ruthless. Fetching back my sword from the tiger's mouth is one thing, but striking so viciously? Should Yude perish by your kick, another grudge with the Tibetan school arises. The martial world is full of unique individuals best left unprovoked. With youth comes progress; imagine when you forge your reputation—fewer enemies mean fewer obstacles. Avoiding unnecessary enmities is wise.” At this, Old Man Zhuoyun countered, "Taoist Drunkard, spare your lectures. The more we shun trouble, the more it finds us. Have you forgotten the past sword duels with Emei, when we initially retreated, yet relentless adversaries pushed us into conflict? This is no different. Her wisdom and courage should be lauded. The Poison Dragon might seem formidable, but amidst disciple recruitments and revenge attempts on Emei’s behalf, they have strengthened their alliance. Should they transgress, eliminate those in your path; evil must be eradicated, sparing none. That Tibetan tyrant has thrived too long; his end is due. We must seize the moment when encounters beckon conflict.” The Drunken Taoist replied, “I’m well aware. It's Master Canxia's repeated warnings about the killings weighing on Qingyun’s fate that prompt my caution.” As they conversed, several red streaks streaked from the west sky, and Old Man Zhuoyun urged, "Quickly, we depart!" The three ascended into the air, leaving their fate for next chapter’s unfolding.