Chapter 113: Fierce Battle 3

As the two fought fiercely on one side, Xuanye and Xuan Yi advanced to surround Lin Qingli on the other. Just as Lan Wutong was about to step forward to assist, she was immediately driven back by an intense, fierce wind. Li Zhongyuan called out, “Do not come any closer.”

Huizhi, sensing an opportunity, shouted, “Demoness! Let Buddha’s grace free your soul!” With that, he swung his long staff down hard. Earlier, Lin Qingli had struck him far away with a single move, leaving him dirtied and bruised, venting his frustration now.

Unable to intervene with Li Zhongyuan and Lin Qingli, Huizhi charged toward Lan Wutong. Lan Wutong snapped, “Do you think I’m easy to bully?!” She drew her twin blades, sweeping out a flurry of snowy flashes toward Huizhi. Though Huizhi’s martial skills far surpassed Lan Wutong’s, after a dozen moves, he discerned a flaw in her blade technique. He raised his staff and delivered a crushing strike like Mount Tai coming down.

The attack came so swiftly that Lan Wutong had no time to evade and could only block with her twin blades. Huizhi waited for that moment and pressed down on her blades, stepping forward and kicking forcefully toward her chest. Having trained in the outer sect’s cross-training techniques, Huizhi’s kick carried the force of a thousand pounds. If it landed, Lan Wutong would die instantly.

Yet Lan Wutong showed no fear, only a cold smile as she watched his foot draw nearer. Even Huizhi was taken aback. Could it be that Lan Wutong had practiced iron body skills like the “Golden Bell Shield”? But judging from her slender frame, it seemed unlikely.

Just as he was puzzled, she twisted her body slightly, and blue lights suddenly burst from her clothes. Several blue beams shot toward Huizhi’s face—it turned out she had secretly concealed hidden weapons like poison crossbows within her garments. Huizhi, as a senior disciple of the Precepts Hall with rich combat experience, had no time to think. He shouted and executed the “Iron Bridge” move, falling straight backward to the ground. Several short arrows skimmed just past his nose, the gust carrying a pungent stench.

Clearly, the arrows were coated with deadly poison. Having dodged this fatal strike, Huizhi rolled eighteen times across the ground before flipping up, pointing a finger at Lan Wutong and yelling, “Wicked witch! You are truly vile! You nearly ended Buddha’s disciple!”

Lan Wutong smiled sweetly, “It is said that the most poisonous thing in the world is a woman’s heart. Didn’t you know that?” Huizhi, enraged, assumed a stance and leapt forward again, applying Shaolin staff techniques against Lan Wutong. Yet he dared not come too close, fearing another surprise weapon attack. Though his martial prowess far outmatched hers, his caution kept him from fully unleashing his skill, resulting in a battle evenly matched.

Huizhu and the group of junior monks, with their limited skills, stayed at a distance, watching.

Despite this, Huizhi’s superior skill soon found a weakness. With a daring move, he closed in almost body-to-body. This was an extremely risky tactic—if Lan Wutong unleashed hidden weapons now, Huizhi would have no escape.

But he was confident in his speed and intended to strike repeatedly before she could react, forcing a pure physical contest. Thus, relying on his strength, Huizhi believed he could defeat her.

This close-quarter combat relied on rapid blows. Lan Wutong could no longer unleash hidden weapons. Elated, Huizhi suddenly struck at her chest. Lan Wutong threw back the right blade, freeing her hand to block. Palms pressed together, Huizhi suddenly unleashed internal energy, attempting to blast her backward. But his wrist tightened abruptly.

Looking closely, he saw a small green snake slither out from Lan Wutong’s sleeve, coiling around his wrist.

This was no trivial matter. Huizhi knew the Miao people were skilled in poisons; this little green snake must be extraordinarily venomous. A single bite would be fatal. Terrified, he sprang back several yards, wrenching the snake off and flinging it far away. Luckily, his reflexes were swift, and the snake did not bite.

Angry and shocked, Huizhi pointed accusingly at Lan Wutong, shouting, “Wicked witch!”

Before he could finish, a strong gust blew from behind. Huizhu and the others cried out in alarm, “Senior Brother, watch out behind you!”

Huizhi knew a sharp blade must be coming from behind. He bent forward, crouched, and kicked backward—but missed. This was his life-saving move in perilous moments, and he had never failed before.

Confused, he suddenly felt a chill on his scalp, then hot blood trickled down. A curved blade spun through the air, returning to Lan Wutong’s hand. It was the same blade she had thrown earlier, now flying back on its own. Fortunately, Huizhi dodged swiftly, suffering only a thin slice of scalp cut.

Lan Wutong giggled coquettishly. “Master, how do you like my self-created ‘Flying Come and Go’ move?” Huizhi roared in fury, recklessly lunging forward to fight desperately.

Lan Wutong seized the moment to take a jade gourd from her bosom and flicked its bottom gently. A black thread immediately emerged from the mouth of the gourd, shooting toward Huizhi.

Alarmed, Huizhi, experienced as he was, recognized it as a protective poisonous insect from the Golden Silkworm Sect. He leapt backward, wary. Although fierce, repeated setbacks had drained his will. From afar, he wielded his long staff but dared not advance.

Lan Wutong had no intention of killing Huizhi outright—otherwise, the Shaolin Temple and Golden Silkworm Sect would be locked in endless enmity. So she kept the poisonous insect close, deterring Huizhi from coming near. Knowing her skills were no match for his, she refrained from attacking. Their staves and blades clanged loudly, a lively but harmless duel.

Far away, Xuanye joined hands and said, “Lin, do you truly refuse to accompany this humble monk to the Shaolin Temple?” Lin Qingli snapped, “If you intend to fight, then do so quickly—no need for pretense!”

Xuanye sighed, “Monks bear compassion in their hearts. I wish to save you, but your demonic nature runs deep. I have no choice but to free your soul.”

With that, his face showing sorrow, he pressed his thumb and middle finger together and flicked outward. The air immediately filled with the sharp sound of something slicing through the void.

Lin Qingli, seeing the kindly-faced old monk suddenly launch an attack, cried out and flipped nimbly in midair to evade. The ground below erupted with muffled thuds as several fist-sized holes formed in the hard mountain soil.

Xuanye had spent decades at the Dharma Institute perfecting the “Pick Flower Finger” technique. His skill was beyond ordinary comprehension. Lin Qingli dared not confront him directly, drawing her long sword and shouting, “Old monk, you wear a sanctimonious mask but strike so ruthlessly. And you speak of monks’ compassion!”

With that, her sword danced like falling snowflakes, aiming for Xuanye’s head. Xuanye did not dodge but casually flicked his fingers. Streams of energy shot forth like sharp arrows toward Lin Qingli.

She used the “Northern Dipper Illusory Moon” technique in midair, twisting just enough to narrowly avoid the attack, though the hem of her skirt was torn by the “Pick Flower Finger.”

Angry and shocked, Lin Qingli shouted fiercely, pressing her sword attacks more tightly.

Suddenly, a low sigh came from behind: “If the female devotee could bask widely in Buddha’s grace, it would be great fortune. Why cling thus?”

As the last words fell, the air grew heavy, as if an invisible stone wall pressed forward. Lin Qingli lost balance midair, but her quick wits saved her. She channeled her inner power through her sword, which burst with a terrifying glow, stabbing at Xuanye.

Xuanye, seeing her desperate move, did not take it lightly. Without a visible movement, his body shifted back several yards.

Only then did she seize the chance to land. The moment she steadied herself, she leapt backward several paces. Just where she had stood, a large boulder sank into the ground with a thunderous crash, as if pressed by some immense invisible force.

In the distance, a white-haired elderly monk smiled gently and withdrew his hands. This was Xuan Yi, a senior monk of the Shaolin Dharma Institute, who had spent decades perfecting the “Palm that Splits the Void.” His cultivation had reached unfathomable heights.

Lin Qingli silently lamented. Since leaving the mountain, she had not encountered true masters and had grown complacent, thinking the world’s heroes were no more than herself. Yet tonight she had met two such masters, each with skills honed to perfection, and together they confronted her.

Compared to them, she was far behind. Worse still, these two had joined forces against her.

Now, Lin Qingli placed all her hopes on Li Zhongyuan. She knew Lan Wutong’s martial arts were insufficient to protect herself and could only rely on Li Zhongyuan. (To be continued.)