Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Battle Against Zuo Lengchan

The wind leaves no trace, blood falls and blooms. Once, Ren Woxing was a formidable figure, ruling the Sun and Moon Sect with such power that all martial clans trembled before him. Yet, he was ultimately betrayed by Dongfang Bubai, who seized the sect for herself and confined him to a dungeon where sunlight never reached.

Later, his daughter Ren Yingying rescued him, but now he has exhausted his last breath to save her. Ren Woxing’s fate is both poignant and satisfying, a tragic hero’s end.

Yang Wenhao’s figure emerged slowly from the side. The music that had just played was his doing; Dongfang Bubai knew well that Yang Wenhao was skilled in the art of the zither.

“What a pity,” Yang Wenhao sighed, gazing at the dying Ren Woxing. Ren Woxing could have made his name known throughout the world, shaking the four corners, but he trusted the wrong person, and so his calculations failed. Yet, such is the nature of the martial world—schemes and betrayal are commonplace. Perhaps one day Yang Wenhao would also be betrayed by someone he trusted, but when that day comes, he would not be as indecisive as Ren Woxing.

To be anything less than immortal is to be nothing more than an ant—this was the truth Yang Wenhao had discovered.

“Ren Yingying has escaped,” Dongfang Bubai said. “I’ll send people to search for her. What about Linghu Chong?”

Yang Wenhao replied, “I have captured Linghu Chong alive.”

“Good. We can use Linghu Chong to force Ren Yingying to show herself,” Dongfang Bubai nodded.

She then turned to Yang Wenhao. “Where are you going next?”

Yang Wenhao looked into the distance. “To Mount Song.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dongfang Bubai said.

Yang Wenhao waved his hand in refusal. “This is my personal matter. You just wait for news from me at Blackwood Cliff.”

This grand Five Mountain Sword Sect tournament was gathering not only the entire sect but many others from the martial world. Yang Wenhao had waited so long for this moment—he would not let Dongfang Bubai accompany him.

Seeing her request denied, Dongfang Bubai’s expression dimmed, but she quickly said, “Alright, I’ll wait for you at Blackwood Cliff.”

Though she said so, who could say for certain? But that was not Yang Wenhao’s concern.

“When you return, I’ll give you the Sunflower Manual.”

Mount Song was bustling with activity. The current leader of the Five Mountain Sword Sect Alliance was Zuo Lengchan.

This time, the grand tournament of the Five Mountain Sword Sect was being held on Mount Song. Yang Wenhao had not yet reached Shengguan Peak, but already he sensed the overwhelming battle spirit that filled its heights.

Zuo Lengchan had decided that the Five Mountain Sword Sect should merge into a single sect. When he announced this publicly, it caused an uproar.

“No!” came the cries.

All the sects present rejected Zuo Lengchan's proposal. After all, the Five Mountain Sword Sect had always been a loose alliance. If they truly merged, their centuries-old foundations would be destroyed in this generation. Naturally, none of them wished for this.

Zuo Lengchan’s face remained indifferent as he watched the heads of the sects reject him; he had anticipated this outcome. He had already made all arrangements before the tournament began.

The events that followed shocked everyone. First, the Taishan Sect’s leader, Master Tianmen, was provoked and lost his position. Then Zuo Lengchan turned his gaze to the Hengshan Sect. The elders of Hengshan had all perished, leaving only the current generation of disciples. No matter how Zuo Lengchan justified himself, the Hengshan disciples refused to accept the merger.

Then Yu Buqun of the Huashan Sect stepped forward, delivering a speech about righteousness. Anyone who opposed after that would be seen as disregarding the crisis in the martial world and siding with the demonic sect.

In the end, it was agreed that the outcome would be decided by martial contest.

At that moment, Yang Wenhao had arrived at the gates of Shengguan Peak.

“Who dares trespass upon our Songshan Sect? State your name!” Two disciples guarding the gate immediately blocked his path.

A flash of cold steel—two bodies fell lifeless to the ground, blood forming lines that flowed down the stone steps.

Yang Wenhao’s expression remained calm as he ascended toward the summit.

At the top of Shengguan Peak, the martial arena was surrounded by people from all corners of the martial world. At the main seat to the north sat Zuo Lengchan, leader of the Songshan Sect. He looked down at the gathered clans, his confidence evident.

As Zuo Lengchan was about to speak, a sudden burst of sword energy swept across the field.

Alarmed, Zuo Lengchan dodged swiftly. Though unharmed, the Songshan Sect’s main banner was sliced in two.

Seeing his sect’s flag cut down, Zuo Lengchan’s face grew cold as ice.

“Who dares! Step forth and meet your death!” he shouted.

A young man in white robes, handsome and fair-faced, stepped up the stairs. Many were stunned, puzzled by his appearance.

“Who are you…” Zuo Lengchan narrowed his eyes, studying the youth. He seemed familiar, but could not recall where he had seen him.

“Your father is Yang Wenhao. Surely now you remember, Alliance Leader Zuo. If not, it would be most unfilial,” Yang Wenhao said, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

Zuo Lengchan’s face grew colder. “You brat, when I sought you before, you hid. Now that you’ve come to me, you’re doomed!”

“Hid?” Yang Wenhao laughed coldly. Whether at the beginning or now, he had never hidden.

“Today I will avenge my junior brother!”

Without hesitation, Zuo Lengchan drew his sword and thrust at Yang Wenhao.

A sharp, metallic clash echoed through the arena.

All eyes were fixed on the pair at the center of the battlefield.

Yang Wenhao, sword in hand, blocked Zuo Lengchan’s attack and smiled. “Alliance Leader Zuo, if this is the extent of your strength, it’s rather disappointing.”

If others called him “Alliance Leader,” Zuo Lengchan would feel honored, but hearing it from this young man felt like an insult.

“Courting death!” Zuo Lengchan’s sword became a blur, moving with lightning speed.

Many martial artists present were impressed, praising Zuo Lengchan’s skill. But while they felt the pressure, Yang Wenhao saw the swordplay as unbearably slow.

One man, one sword—he blocked Zuo Lengchan’s mad-dog assault.

To many, it was shocking. Zuo Lengchan was a veteran master, while Yang Wenhao was just a youth. How could he stand shoulder to shoulder with Zuo Lengchan?

(End of chapter)