Ghost King Yin Wudi, now cornered and humiliated, face dark with rage, barked:
"Enough prattle! If you've the skill, cut me down with one stroke—spare me your endless words!"
With a furious roar he rushed forward, sword flashing down. Wu Tong, his mind already made, answered coldly:
"Then allow me to send you on your way—no need for thanks for this final favor!"
Lowering into a solid horse stance, Wu Tong let out a piercing cry. In the blink of an eye his blade turned, flashing like lightning. The saber swept across with a move called "Northern Victory to Reclaim the Central Plains"—gleams of steel flickered like thunderbolts, his footwork swift as flying steps. The surging saber-wind met Yin Wudi's sword head-on. Blade and sword clashed. Wu Tong sank his weapon, channeling full force; the saber turned and caught the enemy's sword, wrenching it aside. Off-balance, Yin Wudi lost his grip—the sword flew from his hands. Wu Tong seized the moment, swung again. Blood burst forth. Yin Wudi shuddered, staggered back several paces, then collapsed, twitching in his own blood. For years he had tyrannized Qishan without honor; today, fleeing dignity and virtue alike, the Ghost King fell in disgrace.
Wu Tong leveled his blade at the gathered lackeys, voice like iron:
"See to the aftermath here, at once!"
The Ghost Manor cultists trembled, frozen like wooden stakes. Liu Yun snapped:
"Still standing there? Move!"
The lackeys hastened to clear the field. Just then, Li Rui, Dharma King of the Manichaeans, and Zhao Ke, Dharma King of the Zoroastrians, arrived with their followers. Bowing, they declared:
"Lord Wu, we came to lend you strength!"
Wu Tong replied:
"My thanks. The matter is ended—leave the rest in your care."
The two Dharma Kings nodded in unison.
"Such trifles, leave to us."
Wu Tong and Liu Yun clasped their fists in salute. Liu Yun said softly:
"Two Dharma Kings, we have urgent duties ahead. May we meet again upon the rivers and lakes."
Wu Tong raised his voice:
"Until we meet again!"
And with that, they mounted their steeds, waving farewell, riding off light as wind.
Untitled Poem — Tang Dynasty, Tang Yanqian
Silken gauze wipes the tear-stained face,Behind a curtain, spring rain chills the apricot blossoms.When shall the mandarin-ducks be joined again?Under the moon, the flute blows for a painted phoenix.
It was the third month, early spring. Life flourished across the earth; in the fields, rapeseed blossoms blazed bright, spreading like golden brocade, a playground for butterflies. The delicate creatures danced upon the vast yellow stage, sometimes rising into the blue air, sometimes alighting gently on blossoms, whispering to the spring light. Bees, too, hummed busily among the flowers, dusting pollen as the breeze rippled the golden sea. From afar, the fields rolled like waves of molten gold—mesmerizing in beauty.
Through this splendor Wu Tong and Liu Yun rode side by side, their horses crossing the endless bloom. Yellow blossoms and green stalks wove together, painting a living scroll, as lovely as an ink-and-wash landscape brushed with soft and bold strokes alike. Visitors who came to admire the spring lingered spellbound. Yet for all the glory around him, Wu Tong's heart welled with sorrow and longing.
What pain surpasses all others? None is heavier than the grief of parting. Once he had ridden here on imperial command, a spirited youth flying swift to the western frontier. Now, two months gone, he returned changed—his face lined with the wear of storms, the heart laden with absence. Though Liu Yun rode by his side, he could not dispel the ache of separation from Zhao Rou and Li Qian.
Seeing the shadow in his brows, Liu Yun smiled gently, her voice a spring breeze:
"It will not be many days before our family is whole again. Then, at last, we shall share peace and joy together."
Her words eased his sorrow, warming the radiant picture of spring with hope. Wu Tong gazed at her, her face like lotus bloom, brows like willows, beauty and grace entwined. Smiling, he said:
"Truly, Yun-mei, without you by my side I could not have endured this journey."
She blushed softly, answering:
"Say not such things. We are husband and wife—blessing or peril, we share alike."
So they chatted along the road, until dusk fell. Wu Tong said:
"Night draws near—we should find a place to rest."
Liu Yun pointed ahead:
"There is a village. Apricot blossoms bloom, with streams and bridges, white walls and black tiles. Why not stay there tonight?"
Wu Tong nodded:
"As you say."
They rode into the village and soon came upon a dilapidated temple. Dismounting to enter, they were astonished to find the Beggars' Sect elders gathered within. Hastily they bowed:
"Junior Wu Tong, Junior Liu Yun, pay respects to the Four Elders."
Elder Qian He exclaimed in delight:
"Lord Wu and Madam—what fortune brings you here?"
Wu Tong answered:
"A long tale—we have just returned from a mission in the Western Regions."
He asked:
"And where is Elder Fei, the sect master?"
Elder Song Ren replied:
"The Master undertakes a secret mission for the Alliance Leader. He will arrive later."
Liu Yun praised:
"Truly, Elder Fei serves country and people—a great hero indeed!"
Just then a ragged voice chuckled behind them:
"Little lass, you'll flatter this old beggar into heaven itself!"
All five turned in shock—how had someone come so close unnoticed? It was none other than Fei Jin, the Beggars' Sect Chief himself, tattered robes and all.
The Four Elders bowed:
"Greetings, Sect Master!"
Wu Tong and Liu Yun too saluted:
"Respects to Elder Fei!"
The old master laughed heartily:
"Boy, have you been bullying Rou-er and Qian-er? Why are they not with you?"
Wu Tong quickly explained:
"We split into two groups. Yun-mei and I rode west on imperial mission; Rou-er and Qian-er returned to Guangzhou to visit family."
Fei Jin nodded approvingly.
"Good! Balancing home and state—rare indeed. You handle matters with grace, worthy of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness."
At that moment a disciple rushed in.
"Report! We have just procured two roast sheep and two roast pigs from the Yan army kitchens, with several jars of fine wine!"
Fei Jin's eyes lit up.
"Well I'll be damned! The Yan army always eats this well?"
The hall erupted in laughter. Fei Jin roared:
"Tonight this old beggar borrows flowers to offer to the Buddha once again. Come, let us feast!"
Soon the roasted meats were carried in, wine poured, and laughter filled the temple as heroes ate and drank their fill.