At that moment Sima Lun stood in arrogant triumph. Seeing Wang Feng spit blood and collapse to the ground, unable to rise, he lifted the corner of his lips in a cold sneer. Casting a contemptuous glance over the disciples of the Northern Dipper Sect, he declared loftily:
"So this is the newly anointed Sect Master of the Northern Dipper Sect? No more than this! As for the Northern Dipper True Canon, it ought to belong to one who truly has the ability to wield it!"
The six Gate Masters burned with fury. They hurried to gather around, lifting Wang Feng. Tianshu Gate Master Zeng Cheng's eyes blazed with fire as he roared:"Were it not that our new Master has already fought through many duels today and his inner force not yet restored, the outcome would be far from certain! Sima Lun, do not grow so arrogant!"
Sima Lun only laughed madly, his gaze taunting, and said coldly:"Victory makes a king, defeat a cur. In the martial world, strength alone decides rank. Today you are weaker—argue no more!"
Just then, from afar, a voice boomed, aged yet full of majesty:"Degenerate of the Jianghu!"
All turned at once. Approaching from a distance was an old man in tattered beggar's garb, leading a company of men. His steps were steady, his bearing extraordinary. Though his robe was ragged, his eyes shone with piercing brilliance, and those who followed him were all gallant heroes, their presence imposing.
As he strode nearer, he spoke in a deep voice:"On the very day of the Northern Dipper Sect's succession, you dare snatch their secret Canon and even wound the new Master? Does the Jianghu no longer know right from wrong, justice from evil?"
Sima Lun narrowed his eyes, a shadow of doubt flickering across his mind. He studied the newcomer carefully and demanded:"And who are you?"
Zhao Rou stepped boldly forward, sneering:"Sima Lun, at least you have some sense! This is none other than the famed figure of the martial world—the former Chief of the Beggar Sect, Elder Fei!"
Sima Lun's expression shifted. The Beggar Sect, largest of all under Heaven, counted disciples in every corner of the land; its might was beyond question. And Elder Fei himself was a first-rate master of the age. For the first time, Sima Lun weighed whether he could truly withdraw safely today.
At that moment the Black Wind Three Fiends caught sight of Zhao Rou and froze in shock. The memory of that day still burned in Zhu the Fiend's chest—when Zhao Rou's palms had struck him three times, leaving him gravely wounded. Rage flared in his eyes as he snarled:"You again! Today I shall repay that debt in full!"
Zhao Rou only laughed coldly in disdain:"Black Wind Three! Once you tried to steal the Bee-Resin Pills, and now you dare covet the Northern Dipper Sect's Canon. Forever skulking like rats, stooping to petty theft—are such deeds the measure of your clan?"
Zhu flushed red, trembling with fury yet unable to refute. He knew well that Zhao Rou's skill was formidable—she had bested him once already, and another bout would likely bring him no better fortune.
So, swallowing his bile, Zhu quickly donned a fawning air. Turning to Sima Lun, he bowed obsequiously:"Brother Sima! That girl once struck me thrice before the crowd; my chest still aches to this day. I beg Brother Sima to avenge your younger brother!"
Sima Lun's lips curved into a mocking smile, eyes glittering with interest."Oh? So this young lass has skill enough to humble you, Zhu the Fiend? In that case, I should very much like to test her myself!"
Fresh from his triumph over Wang Feng, his spirit was ablaze. Flattered by Zhu's groveling, he forgot caution entirely. Even Elder Fei of the Beggar Sect seemed beneath his notice. With arrogant disdain he scoffed:"A mere woman? What skill could she possibly have?"
Zhao Rou's eyes flashed, her pride stung."You will know soon enough—try me!"
Without another word she leapt forth, unleashing the Thirteen Palms of the Soaring Sky. With the move Flight Through the Clouds, her palm swept down like thunder. Though Sima Lun's words had been brash, his battle with Wang Feng left him wary; he dared not take her lightly. Calmly he stepped aside, turned, and countered with practiced ease, remarking as he did:"Young girl, your skill is not without merit."
Zhao Rou retorted:"To seize another's Canon by ambush is no deed of a true hero!"
Sima Lun's face darkened."If you have the strength, then take it! Why waste breath?"
They traded words as their palms clashed. Zhao Rou executed the Six Illusions of the Phantom Palm, striking with Fist Within Palm and Palm Within Fist. The strange style—half fist, half palm—took Sima Lun by surprise."Marvelous technique," he admitted, "yet your inner force is lacking!"
Zhao Rou's eyes burned. With a shout she unleashed four more changes: Truth is Illusion, Illusion is Truth, Truth Within Illusion, Illusion Within Truth. Sima Lun parried warily, impressed yet still contemptuous.
Zhao Rou, unwilling to yield, cried:"Breaking Steel with Softness!"
Her palm wind howled, energy surging outward! Just as the clash peaked, another figure entered the fray—Li Qian stepped forth, intercepting Sima Lun's strike with her own palm, dissolving the peril bearing down on Zhao Rou.
Sima Lun was startled. He had meant to crush Zhao Rou with raw inner force, avenging Zhu. But now this slip of a girl had neutralized his strike with ease. His eyes narrowed as he cast Li Qian a scornful look."What now? First one woman, now another? Why do you meddlesome girls insist on crowding in?"
Li Qian's gaze was sharp as blades. She answered coldly:"In the Jianghu, strength alone commands respect. Man or woman, all speak with skill. If you are so mighty, then hand over the True Canon—and be gone from the Northern Dipper's domain!"
Sima Lun arched a brow, a cold laugh escaping."Such bold words from a slip of a girl! Very well, let me see what you can do. If you dare, come and take it!"
With that, he brought his palms together. His aura surged, his body blurred left and right, shadowy and elusive. This was his prized lightness skill, Hidden-Trace Shadow Step—a ghostly art that made his movements impossible to predict.
But Li Qian did not flinch. Dropping her shoulders, grounding her steps, she moved with the Nine Escapes of the Black Tortoise. Her breath sank deep, her gaze sharp, awaiting her moment.
From childhood she had inherited her parents' martial legacy—the Black Tortoise Canon of Lü Qiang, one of the rarest inner disciplines of the Jianghu, with its unshakable steps and transforming palms. Her parents had never wished her to wander the dangerous world of martial strife, but she had chosen otherwise. Disguised as a man, she had roamed a thousand li in search of Wu Tong, and at last, at the Great Assembly Against the Rebels, had found the man she loved. Now, to defend the martial world's righteous heritage, how could she retreat?
As the verse says:Longing only for my lord to appear in dreams—yet I wake.Riding free with loosened reins, the wind scatters hoofbeats;Ask not where sorrow lodges within the heart.
Her body moved; she launched the technique Black Tortoise Vanishing Shadow. Her footwork flowed swift and light, her palm surged forward with a fierce wind, striking straight at Sima Lun's brow. This was the Coiling Dragon, Crouching Tiger form of the Black Tortoise Palm!
Sima Lun's eyes narrowed. This girl's art is supple yet strong—no ordinary skill! He leapt back a few paces, then countered with a flick of his wrist, unleashing Wind and Thunder as One!
Their palms collided with a resounding boom, force exploding outward, dust rising in clouds. The ground trembled, and all the onlookers held their breath.
This battle—had only just begun.