Chapter 21: Turning Against Each Other

The head of the Qingcheng Sect felt a surge of secret delight as the group stepped onto the diverging path.

Hardly had they entered the cavern when a thick, foul stench wafted toward them, causing Li Miao to knit his brows in distaste.

"Those must be the grave robbers who didn't make it out," Luo Qifeng remarked.

As they proceeded a short distance, they indeed found corpses strewn across the ground in disarray. Just as one man stepped forward to examine them, Luo Qifeng held him back.

"Do not approach. There isn't even a large living creature in this cave; these men were surely killed by venomous insects."

The man realized the danger and hurriedly offered his thanks. The group bypassed the bodies and continued onward.

The path was initially so narrow that it could only accommodate one person, but after walking a few dozen paces, it suddenly opened up. They had entered a cavern that measured a hundred zhang across.

As soon as they stepped inside, the head of the Kongtong Sect gave a low cry: "There is writing on the stone wall!"

The group rushed over to look. The wall was densely covered with lines of text. Li Miao scanned the writing from top to bottom, murmuring to himself.

"The Zen Sect of Martial Arts, the Divine Skill of the Wedding Dress. To reap its benefits, one must first blunt its edge..."

Having derived the "Li Family Wedding Dress Divine Skill" from the fragments of the original manual, he could naturally discern the authenticity of this text. To his astonishment, what stood before them was the genuine Wedding Dress Divine Skill—the kind that one could actually cultivate!

Everyone present was an expert; as they read the text, they allowed their internal energy to circulate in accordance with the instructions, and they immediately reached the same conclusion: it was authentic!

Once this realization dawned, no one felt joy. Instead, they immediately summoned their internal energy, gripped their weapons, and cast wary glances at those around them.

Men die for wealth just as birds die for food.

In this world, not everyone is blessed with good fortune. Those with great innate talent may not gain entry into major sects, and those with noble hearts may not join righteous paths. Most people practice martial arts only as a compromise.

Among those present, at least five or six had been lingering at the second-tier level for years, unable to make progress because they lacked suitable, high-level techniques. For them, a divine skill was reason enough to kill, start a bloody conflict, or even betray their own sects.

This was not to mention the three independent first-tier experts, who, even if they had no designs on the skill, had to guard against being silenced by the major sects.

In an instant, the facade of unity among the group crumbled.

Li Miao smiled, reached out to pull Yin Minjun aside, and retreated to the sidelines. "Elder Yin and I will not participate in this matter. Please, carry on."

"Master, I shall not help you."

Yongjie pressed his palms together and bowed to Li Miao. "This monk has already broken his vows; I dare not trouble you, benefactor. Life and death are fated. Even if this monk were to die, you need not intervene."

He had remained silent until now, fearing someone might recognize his voice, but he finally spoke.

The head of the Kongtong Sect immediately frowned and looked at him. "Your voice sounds like that of an old acquaintance of mine."

Yongjie lowered his hands and straightened his back. He had not come here as Yongjie of Shaolin, but as Tu Qingcang, to seize this opportunity. Now that the truth was laid bare, there was no need for further pretense.

A series of cracks echoed from his joints, and his stature seemed to grow taller in an instant. He clenched his fists and said in a deep voice to the Kongtong head, "It has been a long time, Sect Leader Liu."

"It is you! Tu Qingcang! You are not dead!"

At the mention of this name, the members of the Emei and Qingcheng sects immediately turned toward Yongjie, their expressions hardening with hostility. All three sects harbored a grudge against him.

"Thank you for your concern, but I am indeed alive, and today, I intend to compete with you all for this divine skill," Yongjie declared.

The Kongtong leader swallowed hard and turned to the others from Emei and Qingcheng. "Everyone, this man is a supreme master. He was arrogant and ruthless in the past, and he will certainly not let us be. Let us join forces to kill him first, settle our debts, and then discuss the rest!"

The leader of the Emei group, an elder, looked at Yongjie and nodded. The head of the Qingcheng Sect, realizing his own plans could not succeed while Yongjie lived, also nodded in agreement.

Thirteen men from three sects—six first-tier experts and seven second-tier—against one supreme master. The outcome was yet to be decided.

Li Miao, however, smiled. He had said the first time he met Yongjie that he was a first-tier expert, not a supreme master. The internal energy within him was clearly of the orthodox Shaolin lineage, similar to Liu Baiyun’s. He had likely abolished his own martial arts years ago to switch to Shaolin techniques.

Yet, Li Miao did not fear for Yongjie’s life.

Conflicts in the martial arts world are not like a game of cards; the one with the highest count does not always win. Those who can achieve what others cannot are the true prodigies. A battle of life and death is decided in a single stroke!

Suddenly, the Kongtong leader lunged forward, unleashing a "Seven-Injury Fist" toward Yongjie’s face!

The Emei elder followed behind him, his long sword thrusting out the "Seven-Evil Sword Technique." This was the signature technique of the Emei Sect, consisting of seven stages with seven strikes each, every move vicious and aimed at Yongjie’s vital points.

The Qingcheng sect leader utilized the "Heavenly Escape Sword," appearing before them one moment and behind the next. The sword light flickered, weaving through the gaps in his companions' attacks to seal off any room for Yongjie to maneuver.

All three were long-established first-tier experts who had operated in the southern martial arts world for years, well-acquainted with each other’s strengths and weaknesses. In an instant, they achieved perfect coordination.

Facing an onslaught that few in the martial arts world could withstand, Yongjie burst into loud laughter. "Well struck!"

He did not retreat or dodge, but instead charged headlong toward the Kongtong leader, meeting his fist with his own!

*Boom!*

A dull thud echoed.

*Thump, thump, thump, thump—*

The Kongtong leader retreated several steps to dissipate the force, his right hand trembling as he stared at Yongjie. "He is no longer a supreme master! We can take him today!" he shouted.

Yongjie’s mouth and nose bled, but he had not retreated a single step. In that exchange, both being first-tier experts, Yongjie had come out the worse. The Kongtong leader had retreated to shed the force, but Yongjie had stood firm and absorbed the "Seven-Injury Fist" head-on.

The Seven-Injury Fist was designed to damage the user as much as the target, destroying the heart, lungs, and liver. By taking it raw, Yongjie had immediately suffered internal injuries.

Was he being arrogant? No, he could not retreat. This was not a fair duel, but a fight of one against many. Had he retreated like the Kongtong leader to dissipate the force, his stance would have crumbled, making it impossible to defend against the combined strikes of the other two experts.

In the blink of an eye, the sword strikes from the Qingcheng and Emei sects reached him.

"Hahaha—" Yongjie laughed wildly.

His left fist shot up, smashing against the Emei elder’s blade, while his right fist swung from bottom to top, aiming for the temple of the Qingcheng leader—a strike that forced the enemy to defend!

*Clang!*

*Sshhh—*

Two sounds rang out simultaneously.

The Emei elder’s sword was knocked high into the air, but he turned it into a strike, swinging down in a "Cleaving Mt. Hua" motion toward Yongjie’s skull.

A deep wound appeared on Yongjie’s right arm, blood spraying from it. The Qingcheng leader had ducked the fist, thrusting his sword upward to wound Yongjie, and immediately followed with a "Zhong Kui Plucking the Eyes" strike toward Yongjie’s vision.

Behind them, the Kongtong leader, having caught his breath, charged in once more. The other disciples of the three sects prowled the perimeter, their eyes scanning Yongjie, waiting for a single opening to overwhelm him.