Qian Luo Yi heard there were pursuers. Turning to Huo Qingge, the Snow Mountain Spirit Eagle, he said: "These Central Plains people really look down on us—just over a dozen of them dare to come after us? Aren't they afraid we'll join forces and cut them down to flying flowers and flowing water?"
He had long harbored intentions toward her. She was the chief disciple of Safina, the Holy Mother of the Eternal Life Holy Church, the largest sect on the grassland. This time he had spirited her away, hoping to deepen their relationship. But whether it was Huo Qingge or her junior sister Xiao Yiguli, the Golden Bell of the Grassland, both were like slippery fish, never letting him get close, leaving him quite resentful.
Huo Qingge saw several women on horseback. She narrowed her eyes sharply, a faint smile playing on her lips, and said: "This time a formidable foe has arrived. He is my prey, General Qian Luo Yi. Do not interfere."
Qian Luo Yi cast a sidelong glance, slightly surprised, and called out: "It's Wang Chong of Wudang! He is a formidable opponent. Qingge, you actually know him?"
Huo Qingge was slightly surprised. "I don't know any Wang Chong of Wudang. Is he one of the Wudang Seven Truths?"
Qian Luo Yi replied: "Perhaps not. I've never heard of such a person among the Wudang Seven Truths. But he and I have crossed hands before. At that time, we exchanged one move, and the outcome was undecided."
Huo Qingge and Xiao Yiguli were greatly astonished. They knew Qian Luo Yi's martial arts well—his skill surpassed even theirs. After all, he had ascended to the innate realm before twenty-five, swept through all tribes in the Great Competition of the Eighteen Grassland Tribes, and taken first place among the Thirty-Six Divine Generals. That was genuine ability.
Huo Qingge couldn't help but look toward Wang Chong, though she said: "My opponent is not this man. That woman of extraordinary beauty, with a face like frost and snow, must be Chess-Sword Linglong. I'd like to measure myself against one of the Ten Great Female Masters of the Central Plains."
Qian Luo Yi was also slightly taken aback, thinking to himself: "Among the Ten Great Female Masters of the Central Plains, most are old crones in their forties or fifties. I've only heard that Wu-Hook Frost-Snow and Chess-Sword Linglong are of the younger generation. I never expected to meet Chess-Sword Linglong today."
He gazed into the distance, his heart swelling with emotion. He had very much wanted to challenge Su Luo Yan, but remembering that he had already promised Huo Qingge, he could only turn his gaze back to Wang Chong. Gathering his breath, he called out: "Brother Wang Chong, we meet again. How about we continue our unfinished battle?"
Wang Chong was about to refuse. He was, after all, a peace-loving man. But Qian Luo Yi had already employed his lightness skill, moving like a great bird. In a few leaps he was before them. He drew his saber with a flip of his hand; saber light flashed like a rainbow. The momentum of this strike was fierce—the Wolf God Twelve Kills, forged in the great desert, with which he had slain countless opponents in his life.
His folding fan was already in his hand at some unknown moment; he leapt into the air from horseback, focusing his spirit to execute one of the Three Great Killing Techniques of the Wind-Cloud Hundred Styles: Wind and Clouds Contend in One Breath; Sun and Moon Shatter the Hidden Name Over a Thousand Autumns! In an instant, the two sides exchanged a hundred and seventeen blows. Saber and fan clashed, the sharp ringing sounds continuing without end.
One figure was majestic, the other agile and light. They crossed past each other. Wang Chong landed on the grass and exhaled. "Excellent saber technique."
Qian Luo Yi's saber light missed its mark, freezing in midair. Without turning around, he said word by word: "Wudang's orthodox divine art is truly extraordinary. Among the great enemies I have met in my life, it ranks seventh."
Wang Chong could no longer contain his curiosity. "May I ask who the preceding six are?"
Qian Luo Yi said proudly: "Number one is naturally my master, Zhao Feishan, the current National Preceptor of Tujue."
Su Luo Yan said from the side: "Mr. Zhao is one of the Five Great Pinnacles of the world, ranking alongside Guanlong Immortal Master of the Taiyi Temple, Elder Kong Chan of Shaolin, Bitter Tea Daoist, abbot of Wudang Mountain, and the Heavenly Empress of the current dynasty. We of the younger generation are naturally far inferior."
This was the first time Wang Chong had heard of the Five Great Pinnacles. He clicked his tongue in wonder. "I have studied martial arts for less than twenty years. Naturally I cannot compare with the National Preceptor of Tujue."
Qian Luo Yi continued: "Number two is Han Haxuan, the sole remaining grandmaster of the Xianbei."
Wang Chong said: "I certainly cannot compare with a grandmaster."
Qian Luo Yi said: "Number three is—"
"Forget it. My fighting spirit is high now. I must settle the outcome with Brother Wang Chong. As for the other five, we can discuss them another day. Let's just finish this unfinished battle."
Wang Chong hastily called out: "It's the other four..."
Qian Luo Yi's old face turned red. He came from the frontier and had never studied; his arithmetic was poor. He had indeed miscounted.
This new-generation Wolf God of Tujue did not wish to continue this embarrassing topic. He shouted loudly, leaping into the air. His long saber blazed with dazzling cold light—Ten Thousand Wolves Chase the Moon, the most domineering move of his prized Wolf God Twelve Kills!
Wang Chong's true qi surged endlessly. His folding fan traced out an arc. At this moment, the Wind-Cloud Hundred Styles that accompanied him shed all immaturity and reached a state of perfect seamless harmony. Against Qian Luo Yi's long saber, he gave no ground, clashing head-on in a fierce frontal contest.
Both men brought their arts to the extreme. After one round of exchange, they each flashed back. Qian Luo Yi's left sleeve was shortened by a section, and Wang Chong's scholar's attire was sliced open with a long tear. Yet the outcome remained undecided.
Huo Qingge said softly: "This man is no ordinary disciple of Wudang Mountain."
Xiao Yiguli nodded slightly, her beautiful eyes shining with brilliance. "The Central Plains indeed hide dragons and crouching tigers. Even such a young boy is so skilled. But he is still no match for Qian Luo Yi. Within thirty moves, he will fall to the disadvantage." The two women were famous in the Western Regions, sent by the Holy Mother specifically to protect Princess A Yi to Chang'an. Their vision and knowledge were superior to others, and their judgment was extremely accurate.
This time they had come to Chang'an to pay homage to the Heavenly Empress. Because the two sisters were well-known, they were repeatedly flirted with by the young nobles of Chang'an. But the other party all had great backgrounds. Even though they detested it to the extreme, they could not act out and beat them up. Xiao Yiguli had long been holding back a stifled anger. Now a strange thought arose—she wanted to indulge herself and fiercely add fuel to the fire. Smiling, she said: "Young Master, if you can last thirty moves under General Qian Luo Yi, I, your elder sister, will treat you to mutton."
Wang Chong had never imagined a duel could be so exhilarating. He had exchanged seventeen or eighteen moves with Qian Luo Yi, each strike faster than the last. He had already exerted all his strength, with no attention to spare for anything else, yet he was gradually falling to the disadvantage. Hearing this, he couldn't help but call out: "Brother Qian, wait a moment."
Qian Luo Yi held his saber without striking. Curious, he asked: "Brother Wang, are you going to admit defeat?"
Wang Chong shook his head. "I want to change weapons."
He said to Chu Qiuzi: "Immortal Lady Chu, lend me your sword."
Chu Qiuzi smiled gracefully. She was about to untie the sword at her waist when the maid who had brought the news—with flirtatious eyebrows and eyes, graceful glances, charming manners, and a bewitching demeanor—suddenly untied her own long sword, threw it with force, and called out: "Young Master Wang, please use this servant's sword."
Wang Chong didn't care whose sword it was. He reached out and caught the long sword. He pressed the release mechanism, slowly drawing the blade. He felt the sword light was greenish-blue, reflecting cold on everyone's eyebrows and beards. He couldn't help but flick it lightly, hearing the sword hum faintly, ringing clearly. "Indeed a fine sword!"
Then he struck a pose: "A beauty lends me her sword, from Kunwu Creek. Reflecting people like reflecting water, cutting jade like cutting mud."
"Brother Qian Luo Yi, today you are in trouble."
…Qian Luo Yi: What, I'm in trouble…"},
Chapter 25