With a thunderous crash, both men staggered back seven or eight steps. Each knew that the hundred blows had been exchanged; though they had tested each other's inner force, neither had fought in earnest. In the clash of energies, respect was born between them.
Wu Tong clasped his fists and bowed, his voice carrying across the square:"My apologies! This junior was fortunate. Senior's martial skill has reached the pinnacle of perfection, unmatched in the world. I am deeply convinced. A hundred moves have passed—thank you for your mercy."
Grandmaster Quanzhi threw back his head and laughed, his beard quivering, his voice booming like a great bell:"Who would have thought that today's martial world holds such a young hero? A gentleman's word is as sure as the whip's lash—today's matter is ended here and now!"
His face then hardened. Casting a cold glance at the Dragon and Tiger Elders of True God Palace, he barked:"Were it not for the intervention of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, there would have been no compromise today!"
With a slight bow toward Wu Tong, he launched himself upward. Huashan's supreme lightness skill carried him away like a shooting star, his figure vanishing swiftly into the swirling snow and mist.
The wide square fell heavy with silence. Left behind were the Dragon and Tiger Elders of True God Palace, the Black-Eater King Sima Lun, Daoist Chongxu, and his supporters. The atmosphere grew thick with unease.
Wu Tong's expression turned solemn. He clasped his fists and said loudly:"Today, I—Wu Tong of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness—acted as mediator. I interfered in Huashan's affairs without their leave, disregarding strict rules of the jianghu. For this, I beg forgiveness."
He bowed deeply toward Zhu Feng, Sect Leader of Huashan, and toward Daoist Zhenchang, his bearing humble.
All were astonished. Who would expect the master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness to show such courtesy? Zhu Feng and Zhenchang were flustered; both hastened to return the salute. Zhu Feng declared:"Lord Wu, your words of loyalty have saved Huashan. Our sect was already trapped in peril. Without your hand today, blood would surely have flowed."
This was no empty politeness—it was the truth.
Wu Tong's gaze swept the field, suddenly sharp."Dragon Elder, Tiger Elder, and Sima Lun—today you trespassed in Huashan's struggle for the sect leadership. Such conduct breaks the laws of the jianghu. This matter ends here. But should you dare repeat it, the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness will not forgive. If need be, I will personally cut you down as a warning to all!"
The words fell like iron, and the square plunged into silence. Every warrior present felt a chill in their heart. Wu Tong was not merely a peacemaker—he was delivering a warning: the jianghu was not theirs to abuse.
The three men of True God Palace looked at one another. They knew the game was lost. There was no chance of recovering face today. At last, they stepped forward, clasped their fists, and said:"Hall Master Wu—thank you for your aid. This debt we shall repay another day."
Wu Tong smiled faintly, though his heart pondered: Will these men truly repent, or will they stir trouble again? Outwardly, he returned the salute."The jianghu is built on loyalty and honor. Today's conflict was born of misjudgment, a quarrel between brothers of the martial world. I acted only to preserve righteousness. Let this be a lesson."
With that, the Dragon and Tiger Elders, together with Sima Lun and their men, departed slowly down the mountain, murmuring among themselves.
The Beggar Clan then approached. Chief Fei Jin clapped his hands and laughed heartily:"Boy! Your courage is beyond compare, your deeds loyal and righteous. But beware—recklessness may yet overturn your boat in a muddy ditch!"
Wu Tong smiled calmly."In great matters one must look to the greater picture. The crisis was dire—how could I stand idle?"
Zhu Feng and Zhenchang both stepped forward, clasping their fists. Their tone was filled with gratitude:"We thank Lord Wu for your righteous aid. Huashan shall not forget this grace."
Their words came from the heart. Among the gathering, not one voice had spoken on Huashan's behalf until Wu Tong intervened. He had risked standing against the tide, preserved justice, and shown not only skill but magnanimity. Even his contest with Quanzhi had ended in mutual respect rather than blood. His bearing shone brighter than armies.
By now dusk had fallen. The mountains blazed gold beneath the setting sun. Wu Tong clasped his fists once more and said:"This matter is resolved. I shall now take my leave."
The heroes returned his salute, watching as Wu Tong and Li Qian mounted their steeds and rode into the snowy horizon. Behind them the snowfield was etched with deep hoofprints. Against the sunset, his figure dwindled—like a gleaming blade, lighting the road ahead for the jianghu.
That night, Wu Tong and Li Qian rested with the Beggar Clan in a ruined mountain temple. Hungry bellies were soon filled, for a beggar rushed in crying:"Report! The Yan army suddenly struck camp and withdrew tonight. In the confusion, our brothers stole from their kitchens—two roast sheep, two roast pigs, and several jars of wine!"
Chief Fei Jin's eyes widened."The Tang must have counterattacked! The Yan troops march to reinforce the front—the grand rites upon Huashan may never be held!"
Then he laughed boldly."No matter! Tonight we feast!"
The beggars carried in the roasted meats. Wine was poured, laughter rose, and the temple filled with warmth and merriment.
The next day Wu Tong and Li Qian parted ways with the Beggar Clan. The two rode southeast, toward Plum Blossom Village outside Chang'an, where they were to meet Zhao Rou and Liu Yun.
As they entered the forest, Li Qian's eyes narrowed."Look—bandits harassing refugees."
Ahead, a mob of near a hundred brigands, each wielding sabers, had encircled a group of fleeing peasants.
But within their midst a Daoist nun fought with astonishing grace. Her body wove through the enemy ranks, her bare hands striking with palms like blades, like spears, like whips—each blow forcing the bandits onto the defensive. Her technique was none other than the Phantom Shadow Palm. Calm and fluid, her palms danced like flowing silk. One ruffian rushed in; she blocked with her left, struck with her right—bang!—and sent him flying. Another lunged—she met him head-on, striking without even dodging. With a single slap, he flew several yards and crashed to the ground, coughing blood.
The others recoiled in shock. In a flash she bounded back to the refugees' side. A little girl flung herself into her arms, crying,"Master, you're amazing! You drove the bad men away!"
The child wore green robes, her skin pale as snow, eyes bright as water, lips like cherries. She was only three or four years old, sweet and lovely. Her name was Yu Xuan.
The bandit troop parted. Two figures stepped forth. One was a tall, broad man, his features rugged, his skin dark, muscles like iron. A massive steel saber, weighing a hundred catties, rested easily in his grip. The jianghu knew him as the Steel Saber Demon King, Liu Yong, chieftain of the bandit stronghold.
The other's face was cruel, his eyes sharp and vicious like a hawk beneath human skin. He was younger, perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight, but fierce and sinister, known across the land as the Steel Saber Hawk King, Ding Qiang, second master of the stronghold.
Now Ding Qiang raised his steel blade and barked,"Nun, you've got skill. But this matter is none of yours. Take the child and leave, and we'll spare your life. What say you?"