The man, weathered and worn, ambled from beneath the ancient tree’s boughs, his grip loose upon the sword’s hilt. He jiggled the pommel, a motion more akin to a child’s plaything than a warrior’s weapon. Yet, as he stepped into the light, faces shifted – Ma Xuan, tiger tattoo straining against his skin; the Pipa Maiden, her painted smile faltering; Zhou Shi, hairpin gleaming in her hair; and the shadowed figures of the Demon Cult – all betrayed a sudden dread.

He spared these renowned masters not a glance, addressing only a younger man, seemingly of similar ilk. “I overestimated,” he chuckled, “You’ve not the weight to stir such waters. A century would need to pass before a man like Ding Ying would be worthy. You…” He wagged a dismissive finger, “Are wanting.”

With a languid motion, he planted the sword point-down, leaning upon its hilt, palm resting against the cold steel. “Don’t let me interrupt,” he said, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Carry on. Should you truly prove incapable of finishing the lad, I shall intervene. Fear not, I draw steel only for him this day. No errant strikes to mar your efforts.”

Ma Xuan spat a crimson mouthful, a defiant grin splitting his face. “Never did I dream to witness Lu Jianxian in battle! This journey to Nanyuan’s capital proves worthy. Be the outcome as it may, tales of this conflict will forever carry the weight of ‘Ma Xuan’s’ involvement!” He dipped into a low crouch, revealing the fearsome tiger tattooed upon his shoulder, its claws reaching down his arm.

But more, upon his taut back, a Door God resided, a warrior of jade green robes and flowing beard, long sword held ready, exuding an aura of glacial frost. The descending tiger, the grim deity – a truly terrifying sight.

The Smiley Face, perched upon the wall, chewed pensively upon a blade of grass plucked from the earth.

Zhou Shi, her hairpin catching the sun, murmured to the A’oer beside her, “Ma Xuan has stumbled upon a fragment of power, what Father called the Art of Inviting Gods. Three centuries past, during the Jiazi Conclave, a warrior wielding this very art scattered two thousand elite grassland riders to the winds.”

The woman with the pipa watched, her dark eyes narrowed. The hulking Ma Xuan, surging with unnatural strength, chuckled, “Did you think I’d wade into this mire without new skills? Surely you jest. Or do you imagine I’m here for a handful of trinkets?”

“I am here for coin,” the woman replied, her voice like ice. “Clean coin, at that.”

Ma Xuan sneered, “What, suddenly caring for that miserable scholar? Scholars are but dogs! Were he to learn of your past, he’d drown you in scorn. You are beneath even a harlot. Is there a clean part in thee? Away with you. I will give you 500 taels of gold if you take care of the scholar.”

Zhou Shi chuckled. “I can say what I like, it turns out to be the truth.”

A flicker of sorrow crossed the Pipa Maiden’s face, quickly replaced by a chilling resolve.

The Smiley Face interjected, “Marry? Before coming here, I spoke with a scholar named Jiang. They talked for a long time and said the world is interesting, especially the Pipa. The scholar asked me – that there is a woman in this world, who never thought that the Pipa Concubine was her pillow. Alas, since she was a fool, I wanted to come to this marriage, it can still be done.”

The woman’s face turned mournful, but then became resolute.

Chen Ping’an, remained observant, his expression unreadable.

It was not merely the ambush on the street, but the sight of Fei Jian Shiwu, seemingly trapped by some alchemical imprisonment, in the house across the way.

The swordsman, so steeped in apathy, was the third ‘close-to-Dao’ martial artist Chen Ping’an had encountered, the others being the old man with the silver lotus crown and Fan Wan’er. Yet, this man’s mastery eclipsed even Fan Wan’er’s, approaching that of the old man Ding.

Ma Xuan’s defiance hinted at depths yet unseen in this world.

If only the gourd of swords were in the fifteenth place instead of the first day of the first month.

Truly, he was beset on all sides.

Zhou Shi smiled cruelly. “Miss Ya’er, the work falls to you.”

The woman in wooden sandals sighed. “Grandpa Shi has spoken, how can I refuse? But remember, save me.”

The hairpin bobbed. “Fear not, Miss Ya’er. My tragic act will not disappoint.”

The Smiley Face lost his grass roots, and stood and stretched his arms, and rubbed his cheeks with both hands, revealing a sincere smile that was no longer rigid, “I want to weigh the banished immortal with my own hands.”

Lu Fang laughed, a warning laced within. “The battle looms, and still you dream of love? Tong Qingqing flees, Feng Qingbai rushes forward, and you stumble, lost and confused. Such is life, but yours is the most unfortunate. I know you conceal your strength. Play with fire at your own peril.”

Ma Xuan, having reached the pinnacle of his martial focus, saw no reason to delay.

His affection and resentment for the Pipa Maiden was, perhaps, genuine. But accumulating momentum and testing Chen Ping’an’s strength was more of a truth.

The tattooed tiger seemed to breathe, the golden light upon Ma Xuan’s arms intensifying with each clench of his fist.

He surged forward, arriving before Chen Ping’an in an instant, a fist flying, the air itself cracking with thunder.

Chen Ping’an leaned away, waist bending, shoulder brushing Ma Xuan’s, right hand striking the man’s knee. The shift unseated Ma Xuan, sending him stumbling eight feet, each step gouging the street, before he regained his footing.

From either side of Ma Xuan, the pipa sang, two silken threads lashing out in arcs, aimed at Chen Ping’an’s throat.

Ma Xuan stamped his foot and charged again.

Chen Ping’an evaded the strings, his movements impossibly agile.

Lu Fang’s eyes widened, a delighted shout escaping him. “Ma Xuan, mind your back!”

Ma Xuan halted abruptly, feet tearing twin furrows in the stones, arms raised in defense.

A fist struck his arm, the force bone-jarring. Ma Xuan roared, and the Door God upon his back opened his painted eyes.

“Die!” Leaning back, stepping forward, Ma Xuan unleashed a golden-tinged blow, a radiant fan of power cleaving the air.

The Smiley Face caught Ma Xuan’s fist, pressing it down, rose from the ground, struck with the sole of his foot at the back of Ma Xuan’s head, then leapt away toward the Pipa Maiden. She, sensing the danger, rapidly strummed a shimmering web of emerald energy.

Chen Ping’an frowned, pivoting, abandoning the Pipa Maiden and leaping to his left.

Toward the unsettling Smiley Face.

He would not speak of Lu Fang.

Of the two sides arrayed against him, this peculiar individual was the most unnerving.

The Smiley Face said, “Everyone says picking up soft persimmons, you’re fine.”

He spread his arms and fell forward straight.

The next moment, the smiling figure disappeared instantly.

Chen Ping’an twisted the direction in the air, reached out and grabbed the smiling face that was inexplicably appeared behind him. He silently kicked Chen Ping’an in the back of the head.

Chen Ping’an actually grabbed it in vain.

It’s simply a talisman.

Smiley again appeared behind in a elusive way. This time he curled up, spread his arms, and punched Chen Ping’an’s temples respectively.

Chen Ping’an was about to take action.

Lu Fang’s words happened to be a step earlier and said to the smile, “Be careful, he is going to exert force.”

After a little hesitation, smiling face took the initiative to give up the great opportunity to hammer Chen Ping’an’s head with both fists and stand on the bluestone street in an instant.

Chen Ping’an almost exchanged positions with Smiley, who came to the street and Chen Ping’an stood on the wall.

He glared at the swordsman who had twice ruined his strikes. “Why not simply join the fray?”

Lu Fang patted the hilt of his sheathed blade, his expression mirthful. “To gang up on a junior? It would stain one’s reputation.”

Chen Ping’an said nothing.

The Sword-raising gourd, quiet, and the golden wine lost its effect.

But without magic robe and golden lis’ shackles. Chen Ping’an felt that hands and feet were out of invisible constraints.

He was already constrained.

Lu Fang spoke again, “Ma Xuan, do not die.”

Ma Xuan returned to a familiar stance, arms now pure gold, radiating light.

The Door God behind him seemed to breathe, a point of white light blooming upon his blade, then spreading into a silver glow, reflecting in Ma Xuan’s very eyes.

He grinned. “This indestructible form, I had hoped to test against the Grand Master. You force my hand, boy. Strike me! If I so much as flinch, I yield…”

“So be it.”

Chen Ping’an kicked out.

The street seemed to shudder, to sink a foot beneath the force.

The blow landed with a thunderclap upon Ma Xuan’s chest.

The Door God shattered.

Ma Xuan was sent flying.

Chen Ping’an moved, a shadow.

Another blow, twisting Ma Xuan into a grotesque bow, angled to strike the approaching Pipa Maiden.

“Lu Fang! Save me!”

Her face contorted in fear, the Pipa Maiden did not await death. A master in her own right, she did not flee, but surged forward, seeking refuge behind Ma Xuan, confident that Chen Ping’an could not harm the seemingly invincible warrior.

A moment’s hesitation would be her salvation, for surely Lu Fang would draw steel.

But Chen Ping’an saw through her, and struck Ma Xuan a third time, in the stomach.

The golden body failed, silver eyes turned crimson, veined with blood.

Ma Xuan collided with the terrified Pipa Maiden.

A discordant screech erupted as her strings broke, and the woman spat blood, leaping to the side.

Too slow.

Chen Ping’an’s fist connected with the pipa, then her abdomen, and she spun through the air, the broken instrument clutched to her chest, before crashing into the wall.

Lu Fang, unmoving, still kept his blade in its sheath.

Even though Chen Ping’an regarded him as the true foe.

He spoke again. “Smiley, note his speed. He can always be faster. Distance is your ally. Hidden weapons, poisons. Why not try them?”

Lu Fang feigned a start. “Oh, and the ones he truly seeks… Miss Ya’er and Master Zhou.”

Horrified by Chen Ping’an’s power, the Demon Cult’s A’er retreated from the fray.

Zhou Shi, as a result of Lu Fang’s words, had already moved to the back of the building.

Then, Chen Ping’an shifted.

Toward the woman with the wooden clogs.

Ya’er, knowing what’s coming, just as she was about to make some movement, she suddenly widened her eyes and looked full of pain.

The wall behind her exploded without warning, and an extremely slender sword appeared. The assassin held the sword in both hands, as fast as thunder.

The tip of the sword passed through the woman’s back, holding the sword and pressing her hands against the back of the crow, and the assassin continued to run forward, and the poor woman was pushed forward like this.

It was like a three-foot-free sword growing on the abdomen.

The tip of the sword pierced Chen Ping’an.

Directly pointing to the atrium.

The atrium acupoint is also called Dragon Chin, which is located on the center line in front of Chen Ping’an.

Lu Fang quietly held the hilt of the sword.

But it was released soon.

At the critical moment, Chen Ping’an disappeared out of thin air.

I used the last square inch talisman.

The assassin let go of a sword-holding hand, pressed the back of the woman’s head, pushed forward hard, and his delicate body slid out of the sword body, plunged onto the ground several feet away, and his back was slightly loose. It should be He vomited blood and a pool of blood soaked the collar of his back. The woman struggled for a while and tried to turn her body, but her elbows were just bent a little and then she fell heavily on the street.

The assassin was a young man with barefoot and rolled up sleeves. He turned to look at Chen Ping’an who was adjusting his breathing, and said with a bright smile: “I heard that as long as you kill you, I have magic weapons to take, I will come.”

He shook out a brilliant sword flower, “My name is Feng Qingbai, Sword Cultivator. It’s one of the ten people, and you’ll make a lot of money if you get it.”

Feng Qingbai said helplessly: “It’s a pity that I couldn’t kill you with one sword. I guess the head-on confrontation may not be your opponent. It doesn’t matter. I can cooperate with Lu Fang. He is the only sword immortal resource here, and he is sure to go back.”

Ma Xuan, the golden body broken.

The Pipa Maiden lay trapped, unmoving.

A fallen Demon Cultist, her white feet exposed beside her fallen clogs.

But they were still: Lu Fang, Feng Qingbai, the Smiley Face, and Zhou Shi.

The thin girl, sitting on the stool, muttered, “Strike hard, shatter their skulls. Then I can take their clothes, their boots. They’re worth something, I reckon.” She glanced at the Demon Sect woman and could not help but take a few more glances, thinking that she was dressed so fancyly, no wonder she died quickly.

Chen Ping’an flexed his hands, clenching, releasing.

The time for restraint was over.

—

Upon the summit of Guniu Mountain, Zhong Qiu, the Nanyuan kingdom’s grand preceptor, asked, “Is this truth? A new place, three blessings? Why? This has never happened, according to records. Is this Ding Ying’s doing?”

Yu Zhenyi, carved jade, carefully rubbing, as he would the skin of a lover. He did not answer. He first stared at the lines on the bamboo branches, and sweat dripped down, unreasonable.

As Ding Ying’s grandmaster, Yu Zhenyi was no longer affected by cold and heat. It was said he had a book of immortals, understood the will of heaven. People have also seen it. Yu Zhenyi could fly the clouds and fog, ride a crane and cross the phoenix. It was at that time that Yu Zhenyi’s body shape and appearance began to turn from a white-haired old man to a young man step by step to a young man, until now a child.

After ten years of retreat, he united by man and nature. If only Yu Zhenyi could fight Ding Ying, it is best to kill him.

In addition to Yu Zhenyi and Zhongqiu, there was a noble queen.

Yu Zhenyi put the jade bamboo down, wiped the sweat, and said, “It should be true. I’m not worried about the situation in Zhuangyuan Lane. Master Zhong, you’d better watch it yourself.”

Called Master Zhong.

It seems that the relationship between the two is indeed very average.

Zhong Qiu frowned and said, “Zhuangyuan Lane is surrounded and killed. Not only is Ding Ying in charge, but Lu Fang also brought the sword with him. What’s wrong with him?”

Yu Zhenyi shook her head and said, “I don’t worry about Ding Ying, nor Lu Fang.”

Zhong Qiu looked a little unhappy, “Lu Fang is so upright, what’s wrong with being worried about? Just because he and the swordsman are the same as each other?”

Yu Zhenyi said calmly: “If you don’t go, I’ll go.”

Zhongqiu snorted coldly, and didn’t even look at the Queen Zhou, like an eagle falcon rushing towards the foot of the mountain.

It turned into a black spot, and it rose and fell several times at the foot of the mountain, and soon left Guniu Mountain.

Queen Zhou sighed, “It’s as strong as a plant in autumn, but still cannot control the wind like the immortals recorded in ancient books. What about you, Yu Zhenyi, can you do it now?”

Yu Zhenyi remained silent.

Zhou Shuzhen laughed, “Even if it’s not Chengyun Yufeng, no matter how you look at it, it’s still very elegant and elegant.”

Yu Zhenyi stood up, less than Queen Zhou’s chest, but when he stood up, Zhou Shuzhen seemed to be driven to the foot of the mountain and could only look up at the person on the top of the mountain.

Yu Zhenyi asked, “Are you sure that ten people in the world?”

Zhou Shuzhen nodded and said, “It’s completely certain.”

She suddenly couldn’t help but sigh, “It’s quite like a big test for officials by the court, it’s not that cruel.”

Yu Zhenyi put his hands on his back and looked into the distance, his mind was bleak.

The hidden queen of Nanyuan Kingdom asked a question, “Where is Tong Qingqing hiding?”

Yu Zhenyi was silent for a moment, “I guess only Ding Ying knows it.”

Zhou Shuzhen turned her head and looked at the noble god figure, “How high is Ding Ying’s martial arts realm?”

Yu Zhenyi said a strange thing, “I don’t know if I know.”