Chapter Seventy: Duel with Yue Buqun (Please Add to Favorites and Recommend)

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Lin Pingzhi, Yue Buqun, and the disciples of the Songshan Sect surrounded Yang Wenhao in a tight circle. On the side of the Hengshan Sect, Yilin wanted to intervene, but her senior sister stopped her. The senior sister said, "Let's wait and see. I believe your brother Yang may be extraordinary. These people might not be able to handle him." Yilin nodded in agreement.

In the midst of the battlefield, Yang Wenhao observed the crowd around him with an indifferent expression. "Since you enjoy fighting in groups, I'll grant you your wish," he said calmly. Unexpectedly, Yang Wenhao sheathed his sword, puzzling those who watched. Yue Buqun stared at him anxiously, worried Yang Wenhao might pull off some new trick.

Under the gaze of everyone, Yang Wenhao took out an ancient zither, stunning all present. No one had seen where the instrument had come from, but no one was foolish enough to ask.

"Attack!" Yue Buqun shouted, rushing forward with his sword. The sound of the zither echoed—clear, enchanting notes filled the air. Under the shocked eyes of the crowd, the music transformed into ethereal visions of armored soldiers wielding all manner of weapons. These spectral soldiers, shaped by Yang Wenhao’s music, appeared with a murderous intent.

"Charge!" The ancient soldiers on Yang Wenhao’s side emanated a thick killing aura, while Yue Buqun and his men refused to back down. At first, the crowd dismissed the apparitions as mere shadows. But when a Songshan disciple was cleaved in two by one of the spectral soldiers, Yue Buqun shouted, "Beware these soldiers!"

Though Yue Buqun reacted quickly, it was already too late. The cries of the Songshan disciples echoed one after another. In the blink of an eye, several disciples had fallen. Yue Buqun and his companions withdrew to a safe distance, frowning at the soldiers in the center of the battlefield. Turning to Lin Pingzhi, Yue Buqun said, "Pingzhi, let us join forces."

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Lin Pingzhi glanced at Yue Buqun and replied coolly, "Very well." Yue Buqun charged into the midst of the spectral soldiers, but to his annoyance, Lin Pingzhi remained motionless.

"Lin Pingzhi, if not now, when will you act?" Yue Buqun called out. Yet Lin Pingzhi stood unmoved, like a bell rooted to the earth.

"Damn it." Yue Buqun realized he had been deceived. He hadn’t expected Lin Pingzhi to betray him at such a crucial moment.

"Senior brother!" Ning Zhongze called from afar.

"Father!" Yue Lingshan’s face was filled with worry.

Yue Buqun now fought alone against dozens of spectral soldiers. Though they looked unreal, their attacks were deadly. Yue Buqun’s sword could hardly inflict any harm on them. Yang Wenhao’s six-style guzheng technique was nothing like the one played by Tian Can Di Que in the past. Each time Yue Buqun severed a soldier’s hand, a note from the zither would sound, and in an instant, the soldier’s hand would be restored.

"Curse it!" Yue Buqun gritted his teeth. He could hardly move, let alone approach Yang Wenhao. Dozens of spectral soldiers besieged him, trapping him like an elephant mired in a foul swamp—no matter how great his strength, the mire rendered him powerless. His advantage could not be wielded at all.

There was truth in the observation: under Yang Wenhao’s control, the entire battlefield was as treacherous as a swamp. Yet Yue Buqun was not an elephant, but a horned ram plunging into danger. The mire gradually eroded the ram’s resolve, and when the ram finally gave up, Yang Wenhao would cast his net.

"Yang Wenhao, if you have any courage, face me one-on-one! Stop using these shameful tricks!" Yue Buqun shouted.

"Shameful? Dishonorable?" Yang Wenhao smiled faintly, his expression cold as he looked at Yue Buqun. "Since you demand it, I shall oblige."

Yue Buqun’s face lit up with hope. He had been trapped mainly because of the overwhelming number of spectral soldiers—he could not get close to Yang Wenhao. If Yang Wenhao abandoned his advantage to face Yue Buqun directly, Yue Buqun believed victory would be his.

Yet this was merely Yue Buqun’s wishful thinking. He did not realize that Yang Wenhao’s swordsmanship surpassed even his mastery of the zither. Who was truly superior? Did Yue Buqun lack any self-awareness?

He was no longer thinking clearly. Under ordinary circumstances, Yue Buqun would be cautious—after all, he had witnessed Yang Wenhao’s sword skill firsthand.

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But at this moment, Yue Buqun’s sole thought was to slay Yang Wenhao and establish his authority before the Five Mountains Sword Alliance, preparing for his bid as its leader. Seeing Yang Wenhao abandon the zither in favor of a sword duel, Yilin watched from afar, moved.

"Don’t worry, Yue Buqun has lost his composure. Brother Yang will surely win," her senior sister comforted her.

Yilin nodded, though worry lingered in her heart. Her gem-like eyes fixed upon Yang Wenhao in the arena, silently reciting prayers for him. This was all she could do for now.

Meanwhile, Master Fang Zheng and his junior brother, Master Fang Sheng, sat nearby. Fang Sheng turned to his senior and asked, "Senior brother, is this the one you spoke of—the man who possesses the combined mastery of Wudang and Shaolin?"

Fang Zheng nodded. "He has mastered techniques from Wudang, Shaolin, and other martial arts. Before I came, I asked Master Chongxu, who said there is no such name among Wudang’s disciples."

"Then, by that logic, did he steal these skills?" Fang Sheng asked.

"It’s possible," Fang Zheng replied, but then shook his head. "But not likely."

"Why?" Fang Sheng pressed.

Fang Zheng explained, "This man is proud and his swordsmanship is extraordinary—only one person could rival him. When he came to Shaolin, he wanted to see the Muscle and Tendon Changing Classic, and threatened to seize it if refused. Given his arrogance, he would never steal—he would learn openly and honorably."

Fang Zheng meant that Yang Wenhao would never resort to stealing; if he wished to learn, he would do so in the light of day.

Fang Sheng’s gaze fell upon the two men, swords drawn, confronting each other in the arena. Yue Buqun frowned as he looked at Yang Wenhao, realizing he had been too hasty. Yang Wenhao’s swordsmanship was not inferior to his own—in fact, it might even surpass it. In this situation, Yue Buqun was in great peril.

Suddenly, while Yang Wenhao had yet to make a move, Yue Buqun thrust his sword forward. The speed of his attack shocked many, and in the blink of an eye, he crossed dozens of steps, the tip of his sword reaching within a foot of his opponent.

"The Evil-Repelling Sword Technique? You’re not its only master."

ps: This world is about to end. Readers are welcome to join the book’s reader group: 7o5798164, and nominate the next world.

(End of this chapter)