After a ferocious counterattack, the rage burning within Ding Chunqiu had mostly dissipated.
With his internal energy draining at an alarming rate, he finally realized he had acted rather rashly earlier. Duan Yanqing was manageable, but Jiumozhi was formidable indeed.
Taking on both of them single-handedly, what hope of victory did he have?
Once the thought of retreat took root, his momentum collapsed. Seeing his opening, Jiumozhi slashed his Flame Blade straight toward Ding Chunqiu's face.
Ding Chunqiu dodged sideways. The stray flame instantly singed half of his loose hair. Gritting his teeth, he hurled a barrage of Phosphorescent Needles and Heart-Piercing Spikes at Jiumozhi and Duan Yanqing, then used his internal strength to unleash a sky-covering toxic smog that engulfed an area sixty paces around them. Under the shroud of black smoke, he bolted up the mountain.
If the fight dragged on, he was as good as dead. His only option was to flee up Piaomiao Peak to seek help—gambling that Tianshan Tonglao knew nothing about his plot against Wuyazi…
Jiumozhi pursued relentlessly from behind. Seeing that Duan Zhengchun had already slipped away, Duan Yanqing's face darkened, and he gave chase as well.
Before long, pursued by the two masters, Ding Chunqiu reached the edge of a precipice.
A void thirty paces wide separated two sheer cliff faces. Below lay a deep abyss, its floor littered with jagged boulders and blanketed in year-round mist. The two sides were connected by a single iron chain, which the people of Lingjiu Palace called the Sky-Reaching Bridge.
Through the mist, Ding Chunqiu could hardly tell how long the chain stretched. But with pursuers hard on his heels, he had no time to deliberate. Lightly tapping his toes, he stepped onto the iron chain, crossed to the other side in two strides, and breathed a small sigh of relief.
Looking at the palace looming faintly ahead and the encircling Lingjiu Palace disciples, Ding Chunqiu channeled his internal energy to the utmost and bellowed, "Martial Aunt, save me!
"Your nephew Ding Chunqiu has been hunted down to this place! For the sake of your past friendship with my late master, please lend me a hand!"
Ding Chunqiu's voice reverberated across the entire peak. Hearing it mid-cultivation, Tianshan Tonglao abruptly broke off her trance and snapped her eyes open. *Late master? Did something happen to Wuyazi?*
The next instant, before anyone present could register what had happened, their vision blurred, and Tianshan Tonglao appeared right before them.
She looked like an exquisite maiden of sixteen or seventeen, yet her height was no greater than that of an eight-year-old child. Her gaze was sharp as lightning, brimming with piercing vigor, carrying a commanding arrogance as she looked toward Ding Chunqiu.
Ding Chunqiu shuddered, an instinctive dread rising within him. Lowering his head, he bowed. "Disciple Ding Chunqiu pays his respects to Martial Aunt!"
A flicker of anguish flashed in Tianshan Tonglao's eyes as she asked in an aged voice, "Junior Brother… when did he pass away?"
Not daring to lift his head, Ding Chunqiu answered evasively, "Master passed away thirty years ago. He was afraid you would be devastated, so he bade me never to bring you news of his death."
Tianshan Tonglao's gaze turned cold, immediately catching him in a lie. She sneered, "Wuyazi certainly took in a fine disciple…"
Just then, Jiumozhi and Duan Yanqing caught up. Seeing Ding Chunqiu standing respectfully before a young girl, both frowned and halted in their tracks.
Noticing Tianshan Tonglao, Duan Yanqing spoke: "Your Excellency must be Lingjiu Palace's Tianshan Tonglao. Yesterday, your subordinates took my disciple, Tan Qing. Please return both my disciple and that young monk to me."
Yesterday, following the markers his disciple had left behind, Duan Yanqing had tracked Tan Qing to a temporary resting spot, where he found signs of a scuffle while Tan Qing and Xuzhu were nowhere to be seen. He deduced that his disciple must have been captured.
Just as he was about to head to Lingjiu Palace to demand their release, he had stumbled across Duan Zhengchun's trail, which delayed the rescue.
At that moment, an old woman stepped forward and said, "Grandma, yesterday that lecher Tan Qing dared to flirt with Meijian. She captured him and threw him into the dungeon.
"As for the young monk, he claimed to be a Shaolin disciple abducted by that lecher, so I had him placed in the woodshed."
Tianshan Tonglao gave a slight nod, then shifted her gaze to Jiumozhi. "Did you come to rescue the young monk as well?"
Jiumozhi pressed his palms together. "This humble monk came after Ding Chunqiu to retrieve the Great Wheel Temple's heirloom treasure, the Northern Darkness Rebirth Art."
Tianshan Tonglao frowned, turning a suspicious eye upon Ding Chunqiu. "Does that Rebirth Art have anything to do with our Xiaoyao Sect's Beiming Divine Skill? Why would you snatch it?"
Full of grievance, Ding Chunqiu cried, "Martial Aunt, I'm innocent! I have never even heard of such a technique, so where would I find it to give back to him? I suspect he simply covets our Xiaoyao Sect's secret manuals and fabricated a clumsy excuse!"
Tianshan Tonglao fumed, "Preposterous! How dare you foul monks cast your eyes on our Xiaoyao Sect's martial arts?"
The moment the words left her lips, she struck out a palm toward Jiumozhi. Jiumozhi was terrified to find that her strike contained endless permutations, completely sealing off every path of evasion and counterattack.
Pushing his internal energy to its absolute limit, he met Tianshan Tonglao's palm head-on.
With a muffled boom, Jiumozhi felt a blast of supremely masculine, peerlessly rigid internal energy surge into him. His meridians suffered instant damage, and in his panic, he stumbled back three paces, nearly tumbling over the cliff.
"The Minor Formless Skill?"
Tianshan Tonglao narrowed her eyes, murderous intent flaring around her. "So you're that slut Li Qiushui's disciple!"
On full guard, Jiumozhi replied, "This monk does not know Li Qiushui. The Minor Formless Skill came into my hands by sheer chance.
"There are few in this world who can fight this monk to a draw. It is only because I expended considerable internal energy battling Ding Chunqiu earlier that I must return another day to seek instruction. Until we meet again!"
With that, he spun on his heel to flee. But how could Tianshan Tonglao allow him to slip away beneath her nose? With a tap of her foot, she darted in front of him, barring his retreat.
Jiumozhi's scalp prickled. "Does your esteemed sect intend to bully the few with the many? Are you not afraid of the world's heroes laughing at you?"
Tianshan Tonglao broke into laughter. "The 'heroes' you speak of are nothing but wet-behind-the-ears brats before me! Let's see which of them dares laugh at me!"
Jiumozhi's heart sank. Hoping to join forces with Duan Yanqing, he looked around, only to find no trace of him anywhere. He was stunned.
*That cripple sure runs fast!*
On second thought, it made sense. Anyone who could survive being hunted down by thousands of imperial troops during a dynastic coup would possess an instinct for danger far beyond normal men. His swift escape was hardly surprising…
Gritting his teeth, Jiumozhi drove his power to its absolute peak and unleashed his sect's ultimate technique, thrusting a Great Seal Palm toward Tianshan Tonglao.
Tianshan Tonglao remained calm and unruffled. Employing the Tianshan Plum-Blossom Hand, she dissolved the masculine force of his strike. After ten exchanges, she raised a hand and returned a palm strike that subtly integrated the very moves of the Great Seal Palm, blasting Jiumozhi backward through the air.
Jiumozhi spat a mouthful of blood as a manual tumbled from his breast.
Overwhelmed with terror, he rode the recoil to retreat, abandoning the fallen manual as he wheeled around and dashed down the mountain.
Tianshan Tonglao picked up the manual and flipped through a few pages, her brow knitting. "The Sunflower Manual? Can anyone actually master this thing?"
Seeing the formidable foe driven off, Ding Chunqiu stepped forward with a fawning smile and cupped his hands. "Martial Aunt, I heard Jiumozhi mention that Duan Yu, the Heir of Dali, has mastered the techniques within it. If Martial Aunt is interested in this manual, your nephew will capture Duan Yu and bring him to you at once."
Tianshan Tonglao let out a cold sneer. "No need. What interests me most right now is why you lied about Wuyazi's death!"
With that, she drew a patch of snow into her right hand, condensed it into a Life and Death Talisman, and flicked her wrist, driving it into Ding Chunqiu's body.
An agonizing itch pierced straight to the marrow of Ding Chunqiu's bones, as if tens of thousands of ants were devouring his internal organs simultaneously. His skin burned with an insufferable itch and piercing pain that reached his very soul. Rolling on the ground in agony, he clawed desperately at his flesh and begged for mercy: "Martial Aunt, spare me! I didn't lie! Master really is dead…"
Tianshan Tonglao glared fiercely at him, grinding her teeth. "He is holding a bride-seeking martial contest on Leigu Mountain on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, yet you dare tell me he died thirty years ago? Do you take me for an eight-year-old child?"
Ding Chunqiu was completely dumbfounded.
*What is going on? I personally hurled that old bastard down the cliff! Could Su Xinghe have recovered Wuyazi's bones and decided to throw him a ghost wedding?*
Meanwhile, Qin Zheng had already dispatched messengers to deliver orders to the Thirty-Six Caves and Seventy-Two Islands under Lingjiu Palace's banner, summoning them to Piaomiao Peak for an assembly in Tianshan Tonglao's name.
As for the reason for the gathering…
Tianshan Tonglao had been betrayed by her direct disciple, Tianshan Tongnü, who had usurped control of Lingjiu Palace—and he was leading his forces there to suppress the rebellion!
Chapter 47