Liu Yun's words were justified, her speech as vivid as painted lines, firm and undeniable. Everyone present looked at her with newfound respect. Even those of the Qishan Ghost Manor who moments ago sympathized with Nan Dian Mo Shuo, upon hearing her words, felt as though struck by a morning bell or evening drum, their minds suddenly cleared. Liu Yun earnestly urged Nan Dian Mo Shuo to repent and turn from evil, but though she spoke sincerely, he remained unmoved, her efforts seemingly wasted.
True to his name, Nan Dian Mo Shuo had already lost all reason. With a furious roar, he struck again. Liu Yun thought to herself: This man is bound by loyalty and righteousness, yet has long done evil. Better to end it here and send him on his way. At that moment, with her internal and external skills at their peak, she no longer dodged. Nan Dian Mo Shuo leapt high with a piercing cry, his strike fierce and boundless. Liu Yun's arms crossed outward, her hands seizing his wrist meridians. She pressed down with force, pinching sharply. He instantly lost his strength. With a pull and a twist, she redirected his arms, then lightly pressed two palms against his chest.
Soft as silk, firm as iron—the blow sent him flying. Without a sound, he fell heavily to the ground, his life ended, his soul departed to the Yellow Springs.
A verse says:Riding through the forest temple, the Manichaeans in peril;From Qishan come four ghosts, as the maiden shows her skill.The Northern Freak departs below, the Southern Madman grieves;Her words like a sage's truth, her sleeve conceals strange might.
Liu Yun's eyes swept coldly. "Qishan Ghost Manor—why have you not yet claimed the corpse?" Her tone was frosty, her gaze sharp as blades. The Eastern Fiend Wang Sheng and Western Demon Xie Xian exchanged glances, then nodded slightly. Two lackeys crept forward, trembling as they carried away Nan Dian Mo Shuo's body, their cold sweat betraying their inner fear.
Seeing this, Liu Yun's lips curved faintly. She turned, her voice clear and commanding: "If any remain unconvinced—step forward now!" Her gaze shone, her aura weighed down the crowd. None dared to move. Silence fell, broken only by the sound of breath.
Turning to Wu Tong, her expression hardened. "Brother Tong, why not let them lead the way? We shall strike at Qishan Ghost Manor and root it out entirely!" Her voice brimmed with resolve and surging battle spirit.
Wu Tong pondered a moment, his eyes deep. At length he nodded. "A sound plan. It avoids needless entanglements. Mount up!" With a leap as swift as a swallow, he landed by the temple, mounted his horse, and with one tug, brought another steed for Liu Yun. His eyes gleamed like lightning. "Two Dharma Kings, leave this to us. Be at ease—we shall meet again."
The Manichaean Dharma King Li Rui and the Zoroastrian Dharma King Zhao Ke hurried forward, bowing gratefully. "Our thanks for your righteous aid!" Wu Tong merely returned a slight bow. "We shall meet again in the rivers and lakes."
Liu Yun vaulted onto her horse, graceful and swift. Then, her face darkened as she fixed her gaze on the Western Demon Xie Xian. "You in black—yes, you! Enough of your false airs. You will lead the way. We depart now!" Her words were sharp as a blade, leaving Xie Xian no room to escape.
Wu Tong's gaze swept the assembly like a blazing torch, freezing all into silence. Suddenly, the Eastern Fiend Wang Sheng stirred. Wu Tong's voice cracked like thunder: "You bald-headed hawk-eyed cur! Plot no tricks—or I'll cleave your skull with a single stroke!" The murderous intent in his tone sent Wang Sheng reeling, cold sweat streaming down, not daring to respond.
Liu Yun smiled faintly. Then she cried aloud: "Move out!" Her voice rang through the mountains like iron bells.
The pair spurred their horses, hooves ringing clear along the mountain trail. The Ghost Manor men, cowed, had no choice but to lead. Out of the forest, the procession wound along stony paths. Birds startled from the trees, mountain winds stirred the leaves. After some twenty li, a hidden compound came into view: black tiles, red walls, nestled deep in the ridges—Qishan Ghost Manor itself.
Built at the mountain's foot amidst a forest of bald cypresses, the manor was secluded yet imposing. A stone path wound to the grand hall, whose crimson gates were studded with iron nails. Above hung a black plaque with golden letters reading "Qishan Ghost Manor," heavy with the weight of countless vendettas.
Outside, Wu Tong reined in, his voice booming: "Ghost King Yin Wudi! Wu Tong of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness has come to deliver your funeral rites!"
Inside, the Ghost King roared back, shaking the hall. "Arrogant whelp! Whose funeral do you mean?" His wrathful voice rattled the beams, cowing even his own men.
Wu Tong shouted back: "Yours, of course! Bring in the corpses of the Northern Freak and the Southern Madman!" The Ghost Manor men obeyed, carrying the bodies inside.
Moments later, two sharp slaps echoed. The Ghost King berated Wang Sheng and Xie Xian: "You stood idle while your brothers were slain?" He gave them two choices: fight Wu Tong to the death, or die by their own hands.
Soon, the two emerged, swords in hand, followed by their men. Liu Yun's voice cut through the air: "Hear me! Before you stands Wu Tong, lord of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness. The blade in his hand is the Crouching Dragon Saber, bane of demons and evil. Leave Qishan Ghost Manor now, and your past crimes will be pardoned!"
Her words struck like thunder. All knew Wu Tong's name, all feared his saber. A chill wind stirred, the blade's gleam more dreadful still. Some men swallowed hard, hands trembling on their hilts.
Then Wu Tong intoned: "The Master said: deeds once done need not be spoken, mistakes once made cannot be recalled—past wrongs may be forgiven. Lay down your blades and depart, and you may yet live!"
The men wavered, yearning to flee, but feared pursuit from Wang Sheng and Xie Xian. Sensing their plight, Liu Yun reassured them: "Do not fear! We shall hold back these two fiends!"
Wu Tong sneered coldly at the pair. "Eastern Fiend, Western Demon—lay down your butchery! It is not yet too late to turn back. Do not test my saber with your lives!"
At his words, silence fell. The lackeys exchanged anxious glances, hearts set on retreat. Wang Sheng and Xie Xian gripped their weapons tightly, their expressions torn with doubt, caught between dread and desperation.