The Phoenix Gang's leader, Qiu Feng, was a true heroine among women, her methods far surpassing those of ordinary folk. She was well aware of the great reputation of the Tiger Among Men, Shi Yong. This man had roamed the martial world for many years, and his fame was by no means undeserved. His martial arts were formidable. For the Black Dragon Sect's leader, Murong Gui, to send him specifically against her was surely no sign of goodwill. After all, the Left Dharma King and the other Heavenly Kings had already suffered humiliating defeat at the Grand Assembly of the Canal Gangs—an enormous blow to their prestige.
Thus, before exchanging blows, Qiu Feng chose to flatter him with polite words, pouring a dose of sweet talk to lull him into carelessness. If Shi Yong grew complacent, she might find an opening. And if she were to lose before the gathered heroes, she trusted he would at least show mercy and spare a fair lady's life.
At this moment, Qiu Feng gathered her qi, calling forth her famed technique, the Soft Palm. Her inner energy coursed smoothly through her body as she silently recited the art's inner formula:
"The Soft Palm takes its law from water. Water is soft in nature; the highest goodness is like water—supremely good, supremely gentle, contending by not contending. Broad and humble like the valley, intent and breath as one, force applied without force, enduring yet unforced…"
Her eyes flashed like lightning, her breath steady, her movements light. Slowly her twin palms extended, and suddenly she unleashed the move Tenderness Like Flowing Water!
Her palm strikes shifted endlessly—at times like a breeze brushing willows, at times like sudden rain upon the leaves, swift as a surging wave one moment, gentle as a mountain stream the next. Her attacks flowed like drifting clouds and flowing water, infinite in change. Palm shadows interlaced—feints, cuts, sweeps, and reversals—each intent guiding the qi, each qi driving the force. Seemingly soft, yet brimming with hidden strength: should one strike land, it would stir the enemy's qi and blood into chaos.
Shi Yong felt a jolt in his heart. "This woman's palm art is indeed subtle—no ordinary craft!" Yet he was a veteran of countless battles, his inner energy profound. With a sudden shake of his arms, power surged through his limbs, and his body whirled like a cyclone. His palms thrust out in a blur, dissolving each of Qiu Feng's strikes one by one. Her fierce energy simply could not touch him.
Qiu Feng, seeing his immovable stance, knew he was no ordinary foe. She changed tactics at once, turning her left palm into a fist, launching a flurry of rapid blows, each filled with cunning force aimed at his vital points.
Shi Yong, his skill profound, shook his wrists lightly. His responding palms were swift and mighty, flowing as if natural, dissolving her attacks layer by layer—like pushing a boat along water, using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds.
Qiu Feng tried again, using Lingering Strength and Breaking Steel with Softness to reverse the tide. But Shi Yong's Tiger-Subduing Palm was extraordinary. Each strike carried a crushing force like a tiger descending the mountain—explosive, unstoppable. Qiu Feng's fluttering palms could not break through his defense.
Suddenly, Shi Yong roared aloud. His hands turned from palms to claws, lunging out with the move Tiger's Clawing Strike—fierce and oppressive like a mountain collapsing. Qiu Feng twisted aside, sweeping and pivoting in search of an opening to counter. But Shi Yong sneered coldly, growling, "Forgive my impudence!" In a flash, his claws seized, lightning-swift, catching her wrists.
Their hands locked in furious entanglement—grips, twists, presses, coils—all aimed at seizing the pulse points. In that instant, Qiu Feng felt her wrists bound, her inner energy sealed. Her heart stirred, and she lashed out with her famed Phoenix Soars Nine Heavens kick.
Shi Yong shifted his stance deftly, diverting the leg's power. Borrowing her own force, he tapped both her shoulders—bang!—a muffled shock. The strike was not heavy, but it scattered her qi throughout her body. Qiu Feng felt her energy disperse, her body faltered, and then a soft force lifted her away. She spun through the air, landing gracefully, unharmed. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath steady—yet she knew full well he had shown mercy.
She bowed deeply. "Many thanks, Senior, for sparing me!" Her tone sincere, without the slightest shame—for to have traded blows with the Tiger Among Men to this extent was already worthy of respect.
The gathered heroes cheered aloud: "The Phoenix Gang's leader is truly formidable!" "What a marvelous duel!" "Both masters are equally matched—what a feast for the eyes!"
Murong Gui, the Black Dragon Sect's lord, watched with a flicker in his gaze, murmuring, "This Qiu Feng does indeed have some measure of strength…"
Shi Yong laughed heartily. "You spoke sweet words before, and I said if your skills held up, I'd let you half a move. A true man must keep his word!" Qiu Feng, pale but alive, clasped her fists lightly and withdrew.
Just then, the Beggars' Sect Chief, Fei Jin, stepped forward. "Shi Yong—you're not dead yet?"
Shi Yong burst into laughter. "If you're still alive, old Fei, then I certainly can't go first!" The two had long known each other, their skills comparable, though their paths diverged.
Fei Jin said coldly, "How is it you've stooped to serve as An Lushan's hired thug?"
Shi Yong shrugged. "I've never met An Lushan. He may be an emperor if he likes—I live my own life. But Murong of the Black Dragon Sect pleaded with me repeatedly, so I came out to deal with fellows like you, to keep your lot from throwing your weight around."
At this, Murong Gui strode forth, saying smoothly: "Indeed. Each time we came, we reasoned with sincerity. My heroic emperor raises troops to chastise Tang—just as Tang of Shang smote Jie, and King Wu toppled Zhou. The people's hearts follow him!"
Fei Jin's anger flared. He cursed aloud: "Damn dog! Shameless cur! To mouth such drivel about Tang of Shang and King Wu—you disgrace the world!"
But Murong Gui, sly overlord that he was, did not anger. "Senior Shi, you see—there is a saying: when paths differ, one should not conspire together. We serve our own lords. To call us dogs is unjust. Were it not for your presence, Senior, we'd not escape here alive today!"
Shi Yong sighed deeply, glancing at Fei Jin. "Old Fei, in truth, this is your fault. You may differ in allegiance, fine—but to hurl insults, to curse a man's ancestors—that is unworthy."
Fei Jin scoffed. "So what? Am I not free to curse? This old beggar will curse the world if he pleases! Even the emperor himself, I'll curse! As for An Lushan, that traitor holding three commands—damned fool, I'll curse him too!"
Though once friends, Shi Yong and Fei Jin often quarreled over such matters. Fei Jin's foul tongue could not be bridled; their philosophies clashed, leading to frequent fights. Few in the martial world knew of this rift. Murong Gui, cunning as ever, deliberately sought out Shi Yong, knowing this secret history. As expected, with but a few words, the two old comrades turned upon each other—right there on the spot!