The courtyard where Li Weiyi stayed was only a few li from the Sui River, separated by a bustling market district of three streets and a low-slung, blue-tiled fishing quarter.
As long as he reached the riverbank, he could dive into the water and make his escape.
Relying on the ceaselessly circulating dharmic power within him, he could travel submerged along the riverbed for a day and a night without suffocating. Other martial cultivators possessed nowhere near such enduring power.
...
With the ghost banner tied around him like a black cloak, Li Weiyi moved like a hurtling black streak, crossing the three bustling streets in just a few breaths. In the distance, he could already make out the masts and sailcloth of countless boats moored along the banks of the Sui River, faintly catching the laughter and ribbing of fishermen after a day's work.
Suddenly, a premonition of unknown danger struck, and every hair on Li Weiyi's body stood on end.
Without thinking, he surged power into his legs, triggering the Qingxu Cicada-Chasing Step in an instant to alter his trajectory.
Boom!
A four-fletched arrow, thick as a thumb, plunged diagonally from above.
The arrowhead sank deep into the stone paving.
Even protruding from the flagstones, the vibrating shaft remained as tall as a man.
It flew far faster than the speed of sound; only in the next instant did the delayed, shrill whistle of the bolt reach Li Weiyi's ears as he continued to sprint.
With such immense power behind the strike, one could well imagine that had he failed to dodge, even wearing the corpse-garment soft armor and draped in the ghost banner, he would have been severely wounded.
Hovering three hundred meters in the air was a three-meter-tall female mutant with black feathered wings sprouting from her back. She held a massive bow of equal length, nine arrows remaining in the quiver on her back.
Astonishment flickered in her deep-blue eyes.
That boy on the ground clearly couldn't have seen the arrow just now—how had he sensed it beforehand?
Was he not only a martial cultivator, but a mind master as well?
Nocking a second arrow, the hair-thin silver bowstring lit up as she drew the massive bow taut.
This bow was a dharma artifact.
She was determined to claim the Wuhai Pill offered by the Five Burials Temple.
Whoosh!
The drawn-out whistle echoed once more.
Li Weiyi evaded the second arrow by the skin of his teeth, his right ear grazed, blood trickling down.
It was Murong Xiao, ranked twenty-first among Lizhou's Top Hundred Martial Artists.
Relying on the advantage of flight and a low-grade dharma artifact bow, she had slain more than ten seven-spring martial cultivators. She had even ambushed an expert of the Wuhai Realm; though the assassination attempt had failed, she had escaped with ease.
Over recent days, in the intervals between taking Zhao Zhizhuo to have his spring orifices reconstructed, Li Weiyi had visited Seven Springs Hall and gained detailed knowledge of Lizhou's Top Hundred Martial Artists.
To dodge these two arrows, Li Weiyi's pace was disrupted, allowing a masked expert pursuing swiftly across the rooftops to his right to catch up.
This masked expert was also a mutant, possessed of extraordinarily long arms and legs, and his movement speed was exceptional.
Crash!
The mutant kicked off an eave, instantly collapsing the eaves and sending broken tiles clattering to the ground.
In the very next instant, he was already directly above Li Weiyi, the phoenix-crescent axe in his hand carving a trail that tore through the air.
Just as Li Weiyi's head was about to be lopped off—
Li Weiyi's shoulders blurred as his form shifted a step away. Evading the axe, he struck out with a backhanded sword slash.
Squelch!
Even though the masked seven-spring martial cultivator parried with the second phoenix-crescent axe in his other hand, he was still sent hurtling through the air, crashing through a fisherman's house on the right side of the street, blood pouring steadily from his abdomen.
He prided himself on movement speed that looked down upon Yongquan martial cultivators everywhere, yet he was bested by Li Weiyi's far more elusive footwork.
"Whether you are Xie Jin or Li Weiyi, your Excellency had best make it clear before leaving today."
Shi Chuanyu, banner leader of the Changlin Gang, caught up, his voice shrill and sinister as glints of silver burst from his hand, sending forth a dense shower of flying needles.
As someone permitted to accompany the gang chief and vice chief to see Yang Qingxi, Shi Chuanyu was naturally no ordinary figure. He was an eight-spring hero of martial cultivation who had received a Wuhai Pill from the Yang clan, though he had failed to break through.
Of course, eight-spring heroes, Top Hundred Martial Artists... such Yongquan Realm cultivators of immense combat power or potential generally had the chance to obtain a second Wuhai Pill.
As for Pure Immortal Physiques, receiving a third or even fourth Wuhai Pill was hardly uncommon.
However, every martial artist could only consume a Wuhai Pill once a year. After a failed breakthrough, one had to nourish the lungs for a full year before attempting again.
Having caused the Changlin Gang heavy losses through his misjudgment, Shi Chuanyu naturally came in person to atone for his error. Moreover, killing Li Weiyi carried the bounty of a Wuhai Pill.
He was supremely confident that upon taking a Wuhai Pill this time, he would surely step into the Wuhai Realm.
With his talent and power in breaking into Wuhai from eight springs, the Changlin Gang would have to be renamed the "Shi Gang" in the future.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Retreating rapidly, Li Weiyi swept his longsword in a cascade of afterimages like a torrential downpour, knocking down all the flying needles.
In that brief interval, three more figures caught up.
Among the three, Yao Zhengsheng, one of the Top Hundred Martial Artists, exuded the most oppressive aura. Standing four meters tall with the body of a giant ape and shouldering a newly forged thousand-jin iron staff, every stride he took shook the street.
The other two seven-spring martial cultivators were both masked, one brandishing a sword and the other a spear, skirting across the rooftops to get ahead of Li Weiyi and block his path to the Sui River.
Unlike the Top Hundred Martial Artists, they lacked such brazen audacity; terrified of future retaliation from the Cangling Tribe, they dared not reveal their true faces.
In an instant, Li Weiyi was trapped in an inescapable net, a life-and-death impasse. Whether in the sky or from every direction on the ground, every single pursuer was a top-tier expert.
Even worse, a steady stream of Yongquan Realm martial cultivators interested in the Wuhai Pill and dharma artifacts was rushing over. Others lurked in the shadows, waiting only for Li Weiyi to be wounded and weakened before pouncing to claim an easy kill.
"I can't wait any longer, or I truly won't get away today!"
"Kill!"
Letting out a fierce roar, Li Weiyi crushed the second blood bag tied to his scripture belt, then charged straight at the two masked seven-spring martial cultivators blocking his path ahead, his battle intent surging to its zenith.
Dharmic power billowed from the sword-wielding seven-spring cultivator like mist and rosy clouds as he leaned low and delivered a sweeping horizontal slash toward Li Weiyi's legs.
The spear-wielding seven-spring cultivator drew his body back like a fully bent bow, channeling the power of every bone and muscle into a thrust. Dozens of spear shadows materialized at once, forming an impenetrable forest of spear points.
Whoosh!
Murong Xiao, soaring in midair, anticipated Li Weiyi's path and loosed an arrow.
A three-pronged ambush!
Though the three had never met before, they coordinated seamlessly in a single heartbeat—a flawless demonstration of their rich combat experience.
The one Li Weiyi had remained most vigilant against was Murong Xiao overhead. The moment his body charged forward, he forcefully shifted his direction in a manner that defied the laws of physics, slashing his sword down at the low-crouching, sword-wielding seven-spring cultivator.
Bolstered by the scripture belt and the profound subtleties of the Qingxu Cicada-Chasing Step, Li Weiyi could push his movement to a ghostly level, advancing and retreating at will, shifting left and right so that no one could predict his trajectory.
Boom!
The man-tall arrow plunging from the vault of heaven struck three feet to the right of Li Weiyi's afterimage.
Looking up at the youthful figure leaping above his head and the yellow light slashing down, the sword-wielding seven-spring cultivator was seized with terror, completely unable to rise and defend in time.
Splatter!
The yellow beam left a bloody line across his face, running from between his brows straight down to his chin.
Cleaved in half with a single strike!
Before the two halves of the corpse could even fall apart, Li Weiyi was already tens of feet behind him, sprinting toward the Sui River at top speed.
The sky darkened as the lingering twilight grew colder.
Heaven is on my side! Li Weiyi rejoiced inwardly.
Once night fell, no matter how profound the cultivation of these pursuers, their vision would inevitably be impaired.
His chances of escape would multiply dramatically.
From behind came Shi Chuanyu's sinister voice: "Li Weiyi, do you truly believe the people in that courtyard can make it into the city alive? Offending the Changlin Gang carries a terrible price. Those two women will be sent right into Baoyue Brothel—and I hear one of them possesses a Pure Immortal Physique."
Li Weiyi's heart sank to the freezing point.
Yet he quickly regained his composure, realizing Shi Chuanyu was speaking deliberately to throw him off balance, using a ploy to divide his attention and disturb his state of mind.
After all, according to Zhao Zhizhuo, Cang Li had not yet left Jiuli City. Escorted by his twenty mounted personal guards, how could the Changlin Gang possibly make a move against Zhao Meng and Cai Yutong without absolute profit on the line?
And even if faceless deathsworn thugs attacked, Zhao Zhizhuo would definitely be able to hold them off.
Zhao Zhizhuo's combat strength would not lose to the top figures ranked in the top ten of the Top Hundred Martial Artists—and might even be stronger.
Shi Chuanyu called out again, "Do you think I'm bluffing? With such an enormous commotion, haven't you noticed that even now the City Defense Battalion hasn't arrived? Is that kind of sway something the Changlin Gang alone could command?"
Li Weiyi glanced back at him, baring his tightly clenched white teeth.
...
Yang Qingxi sat inside the main hall of the deckhouse aboard a giant warship moored in the middle of the Sui River. Spread before her on the table was a pale-green embroidered tablecloth patterned with birds and clouds.
Upon it rested exquisite silver wine vessels, rare fruits, and a bone lamp dharma artifact.
Wisps of dharmic qi drifted from her slender, snow-white fingertips, powering the bone lamp artifact.
The hazy lamplight shrouded the surroundings in mist; no one could make out her silhouette, nor could anyone hear any sound within the illuminated radius. Everything seemed illusory.
The lamplight cast a glow over her Pure Immortal Physique, making her skin appear even more delicate and fair—a sight so enticing that scarcely any man could resist the urge to reach out, to touch or caress her flesh, to feel its supple firmness.
Yang Qingxi gazed toward the shore a hundred paces away.
As night settled, bright yellow lanterns sprang to life both in the residential quarters ashore and across the rows of houseboats moored along the river.
Within a narrow lane, flashes of dharmic power clashed violently, yellow sword radiance flaring.
Walls of dwellings collapsed from time to time, blood occasionally splattering across the dark veil of night.
The battle was nothing short of brutal.
"To fight his way all the way to the banks of the Sui River... he truly deserves a second look." Yang Qingxi wore a veil, her eyes like two clear spring pools, entirely placid.
Guarding the entrance to the main hall was Xue Zheng, his body seemingly cast of silver, his skin possessing an entirely metallic sheen.
In a voice like grinding metal, he said, "Eldest Miss, let me go and end this!"
"Why end it? Isn't watching the show enjoyable? A game of cats catching a mouse strikes me as quite entertaining," she replied.
Earlier, Yang Yun had orchestrated the ambush on Shenlong Avenue, only to be severely reprimanded by Yang Qingxi. She had felt her younger brother made far too much of an ordinary seven-spring martial cultivator, and should never have shown his face at the scene of the attack, leaving evidence behind.
Yet afterward, the fierce reactions of Li Songlin and Cang Li gave Yang Qingxi an inkling that something was amiss.
Upon closer investigation, she had discovered numerous peculiarities.
Thus, this morning she had given Yang Yun free rein. She wanted to see why Li Songlin, Cang Li, and Li Ling valued Li Weiyi and the people in that courtyard so highly, seeking to unearth the secret behind it all.
Especially the secret of the Pure Immortal Physique's transformation.
Rustle!
A gentle breeze swept across the wide river.
Silently from the night, a handsome figure dressed in silver robes and a white coat landed onto the prow deck of the two-hundred-meter-long warship.
No one knew where he had come from.
Indeed, no one even realized when he had touched down.
Not until he spoke of his own accord: "For Eldest Miss Yang to moor her ship here takes extraordinary daring. Are you not afraid that what we conspire might be uncovered by some of the old fellows in the city?"
This handsome, noble figure held a two-foot-long bone flute, his voice rich with an intoxicating, masculine magnetism.
Had Li Weiyi been present, he would surely have recognized the man: none other than the distinguished guest wearing a Buddha-head mask who had joined Shi Jiuzhai in ambushing the Cangling Tribe's coffin-bearing procession back at Immortal Burial Town.
The attire, the accessories, the bone flute, the voice...
The only difference was that this mysterious guest was not wearing his Buddha-head mask now.
Chapter 58