Chapter Forty: The Chaotic Battle

Hearing the disturbance in the back courtyard, Li Chongyuan grew anxious. His swordplay shifted abruptly—both hands now wielded the Tianshan Sword Technique. The sword in his left, which had been performing the Falling Snow style, transformed into a magnificent display of Tianshan swordsmanship: upright, noble, every move executed with measured precision. His right sword, previously employing the Samsara Sword, now also switched to the Tianshan style, but its movements were sinister and sharp, each strike unorthodox and perilous. Though the two sets of sword moves appeared identical, their auras could not be more different: the left exuded righteous, masculine energy, while the right radiated a cold, forbidding chill.

Ghost Sword and White Serpent, both battle-hardened and cunning, had never witnessed such a phenomenon. Unbeknownst to them, the left sword was powered by the Primordial Harmony Art, while the right drew from the Asura Technique. Baffled and wary, they dared not press too closely.

After several exchanges, Li Chongyuan forced Ghost Sword back several paces, while White Serpent’s long sword was wrenched from her grasp. Fortunately, Ghost Sword risked his life to dash in and rescue her; otherwise, she would have perished under Li Chongyuan’s blade. Surviving by a hair’s breadth, White Serpent remained calm and called out, “Qinghua, keep him occupied! Our men must have succeeded already.” Han Qinghua nodded and charged afresh, his Kongtong Swordsmanship straddling the line between orthodoxy and heresy, rendered all the more treacherous by his own reckless nature. White Serpent snatched up her snake-shaped sword and joined the attack.

Li Chongyuan, his heart in turmoil for Lin Qingli’s safety, seized an opening after a few rounds. He instantly performed the Beidou Phantom Moon technique, springing from the ground and arcing over the rooftop into the rear courtyard.

He arrived just as the Kunlun Giant lunged at Lin Qingli. Before even landing, Li Chongyuan kicked Müller back into the house, where the crash of shattered furniture resounded—the giant’s bulk no doubt wreaking havoc on the room’s contents.

The Eight Attendants knew they were no match for Li Chongyuan. In desperation, they seized their Iron-Spined Eight-Bolt Crossbows to unleash a barrage. Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed overhead as a vast net dropped from the sky, enveloping the Attendants. The net, woven of golden threads, resisted all their efforts to break free, leaving them tangled in a heap.

Outside, Wang Cheng and Wang Zhuo shouted, “Benefactor, run!” Though the Wang brothers were not skilled fighters, their loyalty was unwavering. Having escaped on their own, they returned to help, bringing with them a device of their own invention: the Celestial Net.

Outwardly, it resembled a small iron canister containing a folded golden net. Concealed at its base was gunpowder and a flint. A trigger mechanism would ignite the powder, launching the net outward—a contingency weapon intended for use if they faced defeat at the hands of Ghost Sword. Captured before they could employ it, they now finally found the chance. Though the device was ineffective against true masters, it worked perfectly on the Eight Attendants.

Seizing the opportunity, Li Chongyuan grabbed Zilan’s arm, with Lin Qingli following close behind as they vaulted over the courtyard wall. As they soared through the air, Li Chongyuan suddenly felt a resistance—Ghost Sword had leapt up as well, seizing Zilan’s other arm. If neither yielded, Zilan would be torn apart, and so, with no alternative, Li Chongyuan released his grip.

As Ghost Sword felt the relief of victory, a sudden gust assailed him from behind. His reflexive counterattack was met by the massive monk wielding a heavy staff, catching him off guard and sending his blood surging chaotically.

Unintentionally, Ghost Sword’s grip loosened, and Zilan plummeted like a kite to the ground. A scholarly-looking middle-aged man sprang up, catching her in midair and retreating with her to safety. White Serpent arrived just a moment too late, managing only to tear a piece from the scholar’s robe.

The newcomers were none other than Abbot Wuxin of Mirror Flower Barge and Wen Wuyai of Suwen Pavilion. Unsuccessful in their search around Mount Song, they had been drawn by the commotion atop the Wang brothers’ roof, arriving just in time to see Ghost Sword snatch Zilan from Li Chongyuan, and promptly intervening to wrest her away from him.

Knowing that Ghost Sword and White Serpent were formidable foes, and uncertain if more enemies lurked nearby, they decided not to linger after rescuing Zilan, immediately calling for retreat.

White Serpent flipped back into the courtyard, swiftly slashing the golden net to free the Eight Attendants, and dragged Müller out from the house. Reuniting with Ghost Sword, they gave chase.

Wen Wuyai charged ahead to scout, Wuxin carried Zilan close behind, while Li Chongyuan covered the rear with his sword. Lin Qingli and the Wang brothers, being the weakest, stayed in the center as they all fled toward the woods behind the pig market.

Ghost Sword and White Serpent, with their uncanny speed, closed the distance in moments. Li Chongyuan prepared for another battle, but Wang Cheng, panting, drew an iron lotus from his belt and triggered it at the pursuers. A faint whistling filled the air as Ghost Sword and White Serpent spun their swords into a barrier of steel, sparks flying. This “Rainstorm Lotus Needle” was another of the Wang brothers’ inventions, unleashing thousands of fine steel needles in a deadly cloud—a lethal threat to any ordinary martial artist.

But the two adversaries, masters as they were, deflected the needles with their swords, though their advance slowed. The group neared the woods just as Ghost Sword shouted, “Where are the Iron-Spined Eight-Bolt Crossbows?”

The Eight Attendants fired another volley. Wuxin, forced to act, tossed Zilan to Lin Qingli, then, with Wen Wuyai, turned back to stand beside Li Chongyuan, staffs and swords knocking aside the deadly bolts. The three were unafraid, but Zilan, now powerless, and the weaker Lin Qingli and Wang brothers were vulnerable.

In a flash, Ghost Sword and White Serpent caught up, engaging the three defenders. Behind them, the Eight Attendants reloaded and aimed once more at Zilan, Lin Qingli, and the Wang brothers. Though the defenders were close, they were hard-pressed by Ghost Sword and White Serpent and could not intervene.

At this critical moment, a lithe figure burst from the woods, snapping a soft whip to deflect the crossbow bolts. As the Eight Attendants reached for their next volley, she hurled a fist-sized object to the ground, releasing a thick smoke that enveloped them. Quick to sense danger, the Attendants held their breath and retreated, while Ghost Sword and White Serpent withdrew warily as well. Seizing the chance, Li Chongyuan and his companions plunged into the woods.

In the distance, the shouts of night patrols and the tumult of hooves could be heard. Word of the fierce battle had already reached the Divine Strategy Army’s command post. Since Luoyang was the main garrison for these elite troops, any disturbance was treated with utmost seriousness, and cavalry were dispatched at once.

Ghost Sword, eyes fierce, wanted to fight on, but White Serpent, quick-witted, held him back. To kill officials and resist the Divine Strategy Army in Luoyang would be rebellion of the highest order, and not even the immortal Crane Lord could protect them from such a crime. She hurriedly pulled him away as A Ping loaded fire arrows into the crossbows, firing them into the woods to ignite a blaze and cover their escape. While the army scrambled to extinguish the fire, they fled toward the city’s outskirts.

With Zilan rescued, Wuxin and his companions had no wish to complicate matters further. Guided by Wang Cheng and Wang Zhuo, they slipped away in the confusion, quietly returning to the Wang family’s apothecary.

The Wang brothers, shrewd in business, had become wealthy in Luoyang over five years. Their manor was splendid, and the party entered a secluded wing without alerting anyone. Inside, the brothers knelt and bowed in gratitude for saving their lives.

Their mysterious rescuer turned out to be a striking young woman, who greeted Wuxin and Wen Wuyai, saying, “Lan Wutong of the Golden Silkworm Sect of Miaojiang pays her respects to the heroes of the Tianshan School.”

Wuxin and Wen Wuyai were taken aback to see a member of the Golden Silkworm Sect, especially since the sect had recently joined the Crane Sect, of which Ghost Sword and White Serpent were Protectors. Yet, Lan Wutong had come to their aid.

She smiled. “You may not know, but our sect leader, the Venomous Guanyin, has reached an agreement with your Li Zhongjun. She sent me here in secret to rescue your Zilan. I discovered Ghost Sword and White Serpent hiding here half a month ago, but, unsure how to contact you and unable to confront them alone, I could only watch and wait. Fortunately you arrived, and I was able to fulfill my duty.”

Wen Wuyai asked, “How did you know they were in Luoyang?” She replied, “A month ago, White Serpent sent a carrier pigeon to the Crane Sect headquarters, claiming to be in Yangzhou. But they made a single mistake—the letter was written on Xixuan paper, unique to Luoyang. Our leader deduced their true location.” Wen Wuyai pressed, “And what agreement exists between your sect and Li Zhongjun?” Lan Wutong winked slyly. “That’s above my pay grade. When you see our leader or Li Zhongjun, perhaps you should ask them yourself.” Unable to get more, Wen Wuyai could only thank her repeatedly, though his heart was full of questions.

Wuxin and Wen Wuyai also wondered why Li Chongyuan and Lin Qingli were in Luoyang rather than Tianshan, and were especially surprised that Li Chongyuan could wrest someone from Ghost Sword’s hand. But since they had arrived late, they had not witnessed his use of the Samsara Sword or the Beidou Phantom Moon—secret techniques of the Northern School—and assumed he relied solely on the traditional skills of the Tianshan lineage.