Witnessing Wen Ducheng's death, Basar slapped his waist with a reverse hand and drew a Burmese saber. The blade was as thin as paper and supple as water. He roared, "I will hold them off!"
Wuzhumuqin's status was unique. Had it been anyone else, Basar would not have hesitated to turn and flee. But if Wuzhumuqin died in the Central Plains, the Eternal Life Holy Church would go mad. As the sole survivor, he would never be able to absolve himself, and even the White Camel Tribe might be dragged into disaster.
Wang Chong planted the long sword in the ground and called out, "Master Xuan Gang, hold your hand."
Looking toward Wuzhumuqin, he said gently, "When I said earlier that I favor the robust women of the great grasslands, it was not mere flattery. Both of your companions are already dead. If you continue fighting, you will have no chance of survival. I am willing to let you leave, asking only that you remember me."
Both Wuzhumuqin and Basar froze. They had never imagined that Wang Chong, holding every advantage, would actually let them go.
Customs across the great grasslands were open and uninhibited. If a man professed his admiration for a woman, even if she did not accept him, she would still consider it a matter of great honor. Wuzhumuqin gave a radiant smile and said, "Then you have my thanks! But the next time we meet, I will surely kill you."
Wang Chong chuckled softly, reciting in a languid cadence, "'To die beneath the peony's petals is a romantic way to become a ghost.' This fine head of mine awaits the beauty's blade."
Wuzhumuqin knew this young man struck with vicious cruelty, showing not the slightest trace of mercy. Though she could not fathom why he was letting her and Basar leave, she did not truly believe he was smitten with her. Unfolding her lightness skill, she broke away from Monk Xuan Gang, joined Basar, and immediately fled toward the south.
Monk Xuan Gang walked silently to Wang Chong's side and murmured, "You can barely stand right now, can't you?"
Wang Chong collapsed onto the ground with a thud and laughed. "Even lifting a finger is an ordeal. If those two hadn't fallen for the trick, I would have had to trouble you to carry me away for our lives, Master."
Monk Xuan Gang, who rarely considered himself a laughing man, could not help but roar with laughter at this moment. "I would have tossed you straight into the river."
Wang Chong recalled how they had first met, saving Sun Yanqi by the riverbank, and joined him in hearty laughter.
The drain of the Holding-Candle Swordplay was simply too severe. The move he had just executed, Sword Illumines the Great Wilderness, possessed power surpassing even Sword Illumines Mountains and Seas, but it also demanded thirty percent more energy. After slaying Wen Ducheng, Wang Chong had been all but burned out; bluffing had been his only option.
Monk Xuan Gang gave a wry chuckle. "Looks like you won't have to sell these heads cheap this time."
Remembering that, Wang Chong could not help feeling a surge of regret. "What a shame. I wonder if our brothers in the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance have any need for this credit."
Monk Xuan Gang chuckled again. "You let two of them go. They are bound to spread word far and wide. You won't be able to sell these two heads."
Wang Chong had to admit the monk was right. Since Wuzhumuqin and Basar had escaped, they would definitely proclaim what had happened. This time, selling the heads was genuinely out of the question.
The thought of failing to turn Nalihai and Wen Ducheng's heads into hard cash and real estate made his heart ache.
All that glittering silver, gone in a flash—what a sin!
Monk Xuan Gang said, "You killed the senior disciple of the Qingshan Sect and the Fourth Divine General of the great grasslands. In a matter of days, your name will spread across the world, and you will become a revered master. Such renown brings great advantages; whatever you set out to do will be far easier."
Wang Chong offered a wry smile. "Even without a name, things have hardly been difficult for me."
Monk Xuan Gang recalled how effortlessly this rascal had blended into the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance, calling young noble scions his brothers, winning the favor of celebrated noble ladies and female knights alike, and lodging comfortably in Su Luo Yan's garden estate while everyone else stayed in inns. It seemed that just as the scoundrel said, even without fame, getting things done had never been difficult for him.
While the two chatted, two silhouettes suddenly drifted back into view. Wuzhumuqin and Basar had actually returned! Monk Xuan Gang immediately shut his mouth, focusing his attention and bracing for battle.
Wang Chong merely smiled and said, "Why are the two of you so reluctant to part?"
Basar pursed his lips and whistled twice. Before long, more than a dozen small snakes slithered out and crawled onto his body. Yet snakes possessed little intellect after all; only a third of them returned, while the rest were lost for good. Basar felt deeply pained by the loss, but he sneered coldly nonetheless. "After killing Wen Ducheng, your energy must have been severely depleted. Who knows how weak you truly are right now? Do you still dare to bluster and intimidate us?"
Wang Chong drew out his folding fan, flicked it open with a casual snap, and said with a beaming smile, "Mr. Basar speaks the truth. My stamina was indeed heavily drained. Had you struck just now, you would have had an eighty or ninety percent chance of killing Master Xuan Gang and me. But now..." He let out a resonant, hearty laugh and stood up, looking entirely hale and full of vitality.
For a moment, even Monk Xuan Gang could not tell whether Wang Chong had truly recovered his power.
Wang Chong said calmly, "Miss Wuzhumuqin, my words from earlier still hold. If you find yourself outmatched in a moment, you may flee at once. But this Mr. Basar must drink bitter regret today."
Wang Chong's words were brimming with immense confidence. Without the slightest hesitation, he strode boldly toward the two.
Monk Xuan Gang let out a shout and pounced toward Wuzhumuqin right alongside Wang Chong. He, too, wanted to see whether Wang Chong truly had a way to slay Basar, or if he was merely continuing to bluff the foremost expert of the White Camel Tribe!
Basar hesitated for an instant. When Wang Chong's folding fan blurred into an overwhelming expanse of shadows only a few paces away, Basar let out a long howl, turned, and bolted.
Wuzhumuqin did not linger either. Having no intention of engaging Monk Xuan Gang, her body drifted like willow catkins, vanishing dozens of paces away in the blink of an eye. A laugh like silver bells drifted back: "If you ever have the chance to visit the great grasslands, I will surely receive you with everything I have!"
Wang Chong wore an expression of leisurely yearning, yet said nothing. Only after both figures vanished into the night sky did he turn to Monk Xuan Gang and say, "Let us head back."
Monk Xuan Gang tactfully hoisted Wen Ducheng's corpse onto his shoulder and followed Wang Chong on the run back toward Pengshan County. On their way, they crossed paths with Tie Mingzhu, Nan Xinlan, and Wang Dong. Returning to the estate, Wang Chong saw Yu Zao standing on high alert. He smiled faintly and said, "Thanks to you as well."
Yu Zao replied softly, "It was merely this servant's duty."
He instructed Wang Dong to fetch several constables from the Pengshan County yamen early the next morning, then went inside to rest.
Wang Chong sat cross-legged in meditation until noon the following day, when the Pure Yang true qi within him was fully restored to its peak. Opening his eyes, a peculiar notion suddenly crossed his mind. He slapped the long sword beside him, springing it from its scabbard, and poured every drop of his Pure Yang true qi into the blade.
For martial artists under heaven, infusing true qi into a weapon was no difficult feat, but usually they could channel only one or two percent. Channelling the entirety of one's true qi was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
Having used the Holding-Candle Swordplay twice—once forcing back Qian Luo Yi and once slaying Wen Ducheng—Wang Chong had long discovered that this sword art's method of exerting force was extraordinary. It could pour more than thirty percent of one's true qi into the blade, which was precisely why the swordplay was terrifically potent yet so brutally exhausting.
Wang Chong's Innate Pure Yang Art had long since broken through the threshold of Dispelling Yin to Generate Yang and entered the realm of Harmonizing Yin and Yang. Driving it with all his might now, thread after thread of Pure Yang true qi was drawn from his body and poured into the blade, causing the long sword gifted by Su Luo Yan to emit a faint red glow...
...Innate Pure Yang Art: This art has succeeded!...
Chapter 55