Wuxia: Become the 100-Victory Sword King at the Beginning

"What a remnant of the Beggars' Sect!" When Erduo saw that Shi Feiyang was dressed in tattered clothes and that the weapon he was holding was a pig-slaughtering knife, he couldn't help but sneer and throw out the pitch-black "Blood Soul Banner".

Because of Erduo's words, Shi Feiyang had a new perspective on the rest of his life: he decided to disguise himself as a member of the Beggars' Sect and roam the martial world. If necessary, he would become the leader of the Beggars' Sect, just as prestigious and powerful!
After all, he had been the leader of the Xiong Ying Society, which had more than 500,000 members. He was used to being flattered and giving orders.

Now, being an ordinary person is really hard to get used to.

As the black banner unfurled, a chilling wind arose, the accumulated snow suddenly churned violently, and more than a dozen zombies burst from the ground. These zombies wore the official robes of a previous dynasty, their eyes glowed with eerie green flames, their fingernails were as long as sharp blades, and the corpse poison dripping from their fingertips corroded the ground, sending up wisps of white smoke.

Zhou Weirou swung her whip to entangle the zombie's arm, but with a "sizzle," the tip of the whip was corroded by the zombie's poison, emitting wisps of blue smoke.

Upon seeing this, Shi Feiyang's glassy eyes gleamed with an eerie silver light, and he activated the Heavenly Silkworm Technique to its fullest extent.

He unleashed his "Silkworm Devouring the Eight Directions" technique, clapping his hands repeatedly, sending countless silver threads pouring down like a torrential rain, directly into the zombie's seven orifices. Wherever the silk threads passed, the rotting flesh sizzled, rapidly carbonizing as if scorched by a raging fire.

A zombie's head was pierced by a silver thread, and its brain matter mixed with black blood gushed out, condensing into a strange blood mist in the air.

However, these walking corpses, crafted using the "Shi Tuo Gong" technique from the Western Regions, were extremely difficult to deal with. Their severed limbs and remains would instantly reassemble upon hitting the ground, and the stench of decay permeated the surroundings. Shi Feiyang took a deep breath, and his pig-slaughtering knife danced out seven afterimages, which was none other than the "Human Escape from the Void" technique from the "Qi Men San Cai Dao Fa".

The blade flashed like a bolt of lightning, absorbing all the moonlight. Those seemingly chaotic sword moves actually corresponded to the Life Gate and Death Gate of the Qimen Dunjia (a form of divination).

As the blade sliced ​​through, the zombies' bodies were cut into pieces, their internal organs scattered on the snow, yet they continued to twitch and writhe.

Shi Feiyang lightly touched the ground with his toes and leaped onto the tallest ancient cypress. His Heavenly Silkworm Technique sent silver threads down like a spider web, enveloping the entire dense forest.

"Break!" he roared, and the silkworm threads tightened abruptly.

The zombies roared inhuman pain as their flesh was torn apart and their bones cracked under the pressure.

In a short while, more than a dozen zombies turned into a pile of white bones, mixed with black blood and bits of flesh, creating a tragic scene of carnage on the snow.

Ordo's face was ashen, and he brandished the Blood Soul Banner once more. But before he could summon a new horde of corpses, Shi Feiyang had already pounced like a ghost, his butcher knife slashing down with earth-shattering force, unleashing the powerful "Earth-Splitting Origin" technique!
This strike was as heavy as a thousand pounds; even before it arrived, spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the ground. Erduo hastily raised his banner to block, but with a "crack," the Blood Soul Banner shattered inch by inch, and the blade cleaved down, severing his right arm!

In early spring, the snow on Misty Peak had not yet melted, and the cold wind, carrying ice shards, was like a barrage of arrows. Icicles hanging from the cliffs gleamed coldly, turning the sky a bluish-white. The mountain wind swept through the pines, stirring up wisps of snow mist, weaving a hazy, blood-red curtain through the forest.

Blood gushed from the severed part of Erduo's right arm, splattering crimson patches on the snow. His face contorted in rage, he staggered back three steps, crushing the ice crystals beneath his feet: "Form the Nine Palaces Linked Formation! Today, I will tear these remnants of the Beggar Clan to pieces!"

Before the words were even finished, nine blood-dripping droplets rose into the air, their black iron leather pouches whistling as they spun, weaving into an impenetrable noose of death in the air. On the gleaming white fangs revealed when the pouches opened, beads of blood, still wet, condensed into dark red ice crystals in the wind and snow.

Shi Feiyang gripped the pig-slaughtering knife tightly; the strips of cloth wrapped around the blade were already soaked in blood.

He took a deep breath, and his inner energy surged like a raging storm, causing his clothes to flutter even without wind.

"Imperial lackeys! What's wrong with Beggar Clan disciples just begging for a meal?" With a furious roar, Shi Feiyang gripped his butcher's knife and unleashed the "Man Escapes into the Void" technique of the Three Talents of the Mysterious Gate Blade Technique. In an instant, seven blade shadows bloomed simultaneously, their light flickering, seemingly casual slashes concealing the shifting positions of the Big Dipper. Moonlight was absorbed into the blade light, tracing eerie arcs through the snow. The blood-dripping droplet collided with the blade's energy, sparks flying. The black iron leather pouch shredded the snowflakes, producing a metallic tearing sound.

Shi Feiyang took three steps back, his boots carving two deep furrows in the snow.

Zhou Weirou, who was watching from afar, suddenly lashed out with her soft whip, wrapping it around the neck of a Blood Droplet assassin: "Young Master Xiang! The formation's core is in the northeast!" Her voice was torn apart by the wind and snow, yet it reached Shi Feiyang's ears like a thunderclap. Shi Feiyang's pupils contracted sharply, and his Heavenly Silkworm Technique instantly reached its peak. Crystal light surged in his palm, and countless silver threads, like serpents emerging from their holes, formed a cocoon of light in the air, enveloping him.

The silk surface shimmered with an eerie silver light, attracting the surrounding snowflakes and forming a swirling silver vortex.

"Even a cornered beast will fight! Give it your all and crush it!" Seeing this, Erdo's eyes flashed with wild joy.

The nine blood-dripping guillotines spun rapidly, and the resulting shockwaves lifted the snow from the ground into the air.

However, at this moment, the cocoon of light suddenly exploded, and Shi Feiyang transformed into a streak of silver light and soared into the sky. He swung down with the force of splitting mountains and shattering rocks, and unleashed the move "Qimen Sancai Knife Technique: Earth Split Kunyuan"!
This strike was incredibly heavy; even before it landed, spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the ground.

The controller of the blood droplets at the core of the formation changed his expression abruptly, but it was too late to dodge.

The blade flashed across his shoulder, leaving a trail of blood mist. Immediately afterward, Shi Feiyang flicked out silken threads from his palm, which, like a bone-deep infection, wrapped around the major acupoints on the opponent's body.

"Ah—" The man screamed and fell to his knees, black blood seeping from his seven orifices.

Shi Feiyang's Heavenly Silkworm Silk was traveling along his meridians, intercepting and severing his internal energy, forcing it into his internal organs. His skin withered at a visible speed, and he finally collapsed on the snow, twitching a few times before falling still.

"Break!" Shi Feiyang thrust out with his left palm, and his true energy transformed into a giant Bagua pattern.

The ultimate secret of the Qimen Sancai Sword Technique, "Heaven, Earth, and Man Return to Nothingness," is unleashed, with sword light and silver light intertwining to form a rapidly spinning wheel of light.

Under this force, the nine blood-dripping guillotines let out mournful cries, their black iron leather pouches shattered, and fragments of broken chains fell like a torrential rain.

Seeing that all was lost, Erduo suddenly laughed loudly, his body engulfed in crimson flames: "Xiang Tiange, you want to kill me? Not so easy!"

He unleashed his trump card, "Blood Shadow Escape," transforming into a cloud of blood mist as he fled rapidly through the snowstorm. However, Shi Feiyang was not about to let him get away. The silver threads of his Heavenly Silkworm Technique followed him like a shadow, instantly piercing through the blood mist.

"Ah!" A shrill scream echoed through the snowy night. Erdo's body was torn to pieces by the silkworm threads, and blood mixed with bits of flesh rained down.

On the pristine white snow, strange red plum blossoms suddenly bloomed. The splattered blood droplets landed on the icicles, staining them dark red, gleaming eerily in the moonlight. The wind stopped, the snow ceased, and Misty Peak returned to silence.

Shi Feiyang sheathed his sword and stood there, his glassy eyes still filled with murderous intent.

He looked at the mess on the ground, the bloodstains on his robes already congealed into clumps.

Zhou Weirou quickly stepped forward and handed over a handkerchief: "Young Master Xiang, are you still injured?" Shi Feiyang took the handkerchief and wiped the blade, only to see his own glass-like face reflected on the blade, as if a golden boy had descended to earth.

The blood mist gradually dissipated under the moonlight. Shi Feiyang casually sheathed the butcher's knife back into its bamboo sheath, shaking off the remaining bits of flesh and congealed blood from the back of the blade. The warm glow of his smooth skin had not yet faded, making the sharp light in his eyes appear even deeper.

Zhou Weirou gripped the blood-stained whip tightly, then suddenly took half a step forward, her almond-shaped eyes wide open: "Xiang Tiange! You clearly used a different style of swordsmanship on the pleasure boat, so why today..."

"Miss Zhou has a good eye." Shi Feiyang flicked the bloodstain from his sleeve, a faint smile playing on his lips. "That day, I was seriously injured and could only force myself to use some rudimentary skills. Now, facing the wolves and tigers of the Sticky Pole, if I were to hold back, wouldn't I be playing with my life?"

He deliberately struck the bamboo scabbard to make a crisp sound, startling a few crows in the treetops.

Zhou Weirou looked him up and down, noting his tattered coarse cloth outfit and the few strands of dry grass clinging to his hair. Suddenly, she sneered, "Young Master Xiang's appearance is quite amusing—he has a face as handsome as jade, yet he wears his hair all over the place; he wields a miraculous skill that can crush blood droplets, yet he carries a butcher's knife. Could it be that you've stolen the entire treasure vault of Taihu Lake Village?"

Shi Feiyang threw his head back and laughed, causing the snow on his head to fall in a flurry: "What you said has reminded me." He suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice, "Why don't you come with me to do some 'no-capital business'? I heard that in the warehouse of the weaving bureau, there are piles of brocade three zhang high."

Zhou Weirou blushed, took a half step back, and cracked her soft whip: "You smooth talker! Although I am poor, I am not the kind of person who would abandon righteousness for profit. Who knows what you're up to? Are you trying to trick me into becoming a live target for the Qing court?" She scolded him, but her eyes unconsciously swept over the faint silver light around Shi Feiyang, recalling the horrifying scene of him crushing the zombie with silver threads.

“Miss Zhou is right.” Shi Feiyang suddenly straightened up and clasped his hands in a fist salute, the moonlight giving him a silvery edge. “Time will tell. If you trust Xiang Tiange in the future, I will always have Daughter’s Red wine ready at the tavern by Taihu Lake.”

He suddenly changed the subject, looking towards the Forbidden City in the north, "But the world has suffered under the Qing for too long. If you are willing, the road to overthrowing the Qing and restoring the Ming cannot do without a heroine like you."

Zhou Weirou turned her face away, her wide sleeves brushing against the blood-stained hem of her skirt: "Stop trying to fool me with high principles! Clean yourself up first." She was sharp-tongued, but she quietly put the fallen jasmine hairpin back on.

The distant sound of a night watchman's clapper shattered the blood-soaked silence. Shi Feiyang clasped his hands in a fist salute again, and with a light touch of his toes, he had already leaped to the treetops: "Take care, everyone! During the Qingming Festival, we will certainly prepare the strong liquor that the heroes of the Xiong Ying Society love to drink!"

His figure blurred into a faint shadow in the snow, and he used the "Leave No Trace for a Thousand Miles" lightness skill to speed towards Suzhou City.

At 3:45 AM, the city of Suzhou is brimming with vitality in early spring.

The moat was covered with a thin layer of ice, but it couldn't stop the sounds of oars and the flickering lights of the passing cargo boats.

Inside and outside Changmen Gate, the lanterns of the silk shops cast a warm red glow on the snow-covered ground, and Persian merchants' camel caravans slowly entered the city, their bells jingling and their foreign-accented hawking cries rising and falling.

Shi Feiyang hid in the shadows, gazing at the night market in front of Xuanmiao Temple that never stopped operating. The aroma of roasted mutton mixed with the sweetness of roasted chestnuts wafted over him.

In the teahouse on the street corner, the storyteller slammed his gavel: "Ladies and gentlemen! It is said that Miao Menlong, the archer of the Xiong Ying Society, is skilled at taking heads from a hundred miles away..." Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the laughter of the patrons.

Shi Feiyang touched the pebbles in the deerskin pouch at his waist, a cold glint flashing in his glassy eyes. Amidst the sound of the watchman's drum on the city wall, he gazed at the snow piled up on the eaves of the City God Temple and muttered to himself, "Old man Yinzhen, this Suzhou city is about to become lively."

At this moment, the sound of a bell came from Hanshan Temple in the east of the city, its eighteen melodious tolls startling the gulls and egrets that filled the river.

Shi Feiyang glanced back at the direction of Taihu Lake one last time before turning and disappearing into the brightly lit streets.

Just as Shi Feiyang's figure disappeared into the vast night, Zhou Weirou stomped her foot, slammed the soft whip in her hand onto the ground, stirring up a cloud of snow mist, and cursed, "That kid is acting so mysteriously, there must be something strange about him!"

The scarred man leaned closer, grinning, and said, "In my opinion, although Xiang Tiange's origins are unknown, his martial arts skills are truly impressive."

Zhou Weirou rolled her eyes at him, then tucked the scabbard into her bosom. "You can't judge a book by its cover. Who knows if he's telling the truth? But..."

She paused, her gaze fixed on the direction Shi Feiyang had gone. "He just saved us. I'll remember that kindness."

The next morning, Zhou Weirou arrived early at the council hall of Taihu Water Village and recounted everything that had happened the previous night.

The village chief frowned and pondered, "The Sticky Pole Bureau has always been ruthless in its actions. The fact that they've mobilized so many people this time shows they're targeting us. As for Xiang Tiange... he's definitely suspicious."

"Chief, I request permission to make a trip to Suzhou!" Zhou Weirou suddenly stood up, her eyes resolute. "I want to see just who this Xiang Tiange is. If he's truly a righteous anti-Qing hero, we can lend him a hand; if he harbors ill intentions..."

She gripped the soft whip at her waist tightly. "I'll make sure he never leaves alive!"

The village chief shook his head helplessly at Zhou Weirou's stubborn appearance. "You girl, you just can't be persuaded. Fine, be careful on your journey, and if there's any unusual activity, send word back immediately."

In Suzhou, Guanqian Street was teeming with tourists. The sweet aroma of sugar paintings mingled with the powdery scent of rouge from the shops, and the shouts of vendors echoed across the bluestone pavement.

Zhou Weirou disguised herself as a man and mingled among the crowd. Her moon-white long robe had some mud spots on the hem, and her deliberately tied-up hair was stuck with a wooden hairpin at an angle. She really looked like a small merchant who traveled all over the country.

She would sometimes stop to watch the fire-breathing acrobat, and sometimes pretend to linger in front of the silk shop window, but her eyes were always on that gray figure on the street corner.

Beneath the gilded plaque of "Taihe Pawnshop," Shi Feiyang leaned against the counter.

His tattered, coarse cloth shirt was casually tied with straw rope, and his disheveled appearance couldn't hide his crystal-clear eyes.

The mysterious deerskin bag at his waist was half-hidden in the patched folds of his clothes, and it was now swaying gently with his swinging legs.

A piece of mutton-fat jade lay on the counter, its warm luster shimmering in the candlelight, a stark contrast to the filthy beggar's appearance.

The pawnshop owner squinted his triangular eyes, and his gold-rimmed glasses slid down to the tip of his nose.

He picked up the jade pendant and examined it against the light, his thick fingers wiping it repeatedly with a handkerchief. Suddenly, he chuckled and said, "Sir, although this jade is made of Hetian mutton fat, look at the carving—the dragon pattern is crooked and twisted, the claws are missing half, and there's a chip on the edge."

His thick hands moved across the abacus, the beads clinking together with a clear, silvery sound. "Fifty taels, that's the most I can do."

Shi Feiyang scratched his messy hair, revealing two rows of white teeth: "Is this how you treat a beggar, shopkeeper? Last month in Ningxia, Manager Wang of Yuelai Pawnshop said it was worth three hundred taels!" He deliberately pushed the broken bowl towards the counter, where a few copper coins jingled. "Take another look, the patina is so even, it's no ordinary item."

The shopkeeper sneered and slammed the jade pendant heavily on the counter, making the copper coins jump. "Ningxia? What would people from that backwater know about fine jade! I've run a pawnshop on Guanqian Street for twenty years. What kind of treasures haven't I seen?"

He suddenly leaned closer, his cloudy eyes scanning Shi Feiyang's face. "But you, lad, with your disheveled appearance, could it be stolen goods?"

A soft cough came from the crowd, and Zhou Weirou pushed through the onlookers to squeeze to the front.

She shook her head and clicked her tongue in a mocking manner: "Brother, I think you've been blinded by greed. Although the jade pendant is of good quality, the carving is really crude. Fifty taels is already an astronomical price."

She glanced sideways at the shopkeeper, deliberately revealing the half-exposed money pouch at her waist, the silver coins inside clinking crisply. "The shopkeeper is an expert, how about adding another thirty taels? My friend's trip won't have been in vain."

The shopkeeper's gaze darted back and forth between Zhou Weirou's money pouch at her waist and Shi Feiyang's broken bowl, his triangular eyes narrowing slightly. He suddenly clapped his hands and laughed, his thick earlobes swaying as he did so: "So it's the two of you putting on a show! This young master is dressed in fine clothes, he must be doing big business."

He abruptly changed the subject, grabbing the jade pendant and throwing it back into Shi Feiyang's arms. "But this beggar—" he covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, "he's covered in sour stench, who knows which dead person he ripped it off from!"

A cold glint flashed in Shi Feiyang's glassy eyes, which instantly filled with a fawning smile.

He bent down to pick up the jade pendant, deliberately letting the butcher's knife at his waist slip out slightly: "Shopkeeper, you flatter me. It's just something I picked up on the road, thinking of exchanging it for some travel expenses." He suddenly lowered his voice, mysteriously adding, "To tell you the truth, there are words engraved on the bottom of this jade pendant; it might be a token of some treasure map."

"Hmph!" The shopkeeper snorted loudly, the abacus beads rattling loudly. "I think you're desperate for money! Guanqian Street isn't a place for people like you to run wild—" Before he finished speaking, Shi Feiyang suddenly stumbled and crashed into the counter, scattering the copper coins from the broken bowl all over the floor.

In his panic, he reached out to pick it up, but deliberately revealed the faint silver thread tattoo on his wrist—the mark of a practitioner of the Heavenly Silkworm Technique.

Zhou Weirou, with her sharp eyes, caught a glimpse of that silver light out of the corner of her eye, and her heart skipped a beat.

She took a half-step forward without making a sound, her boots landing on a few copper coins: "Shopkeeper, don't be impatient, my friend doesn't know the rules."

She took out a silver ingot and slapped it on the counter. "Eighty taels. I'll take this jade pendant. Consider it making a friend."

The shopkeeper stared at the silver ingot, his Adam's apple bobbing twice.

He glanced at Shi Feiyang's fair skin peeking out from under his messy hair, then at Zhou Weirou's feigned composure, and suddenly chuckled, "Since this young master is so righteous, this old man can't refuse him."

As he collected the money, he deliberately waved the jade pendant in front of Shi Feiyang's eyes, saying, "But let me make this clear from the start: if it's fake..."

Shi Feiyang dusted himself off and suddenly leaned close to Zhou Weirou's ear and whispered, "Miss Zhou, you're doing a good job. Don't give yourself away." As he straightened up, a sly smile flashed in his glassy eyes, colliding with the shopkeeper's calculating gaze. Amidst the bustling crowds on Guanqian Street, an undercurrent was quietly surging in the jade pendant trading room.

Today's move is Shi Feiyang's attempt to disguise himself as a member of the Beggars' Sect.

After receiving the silver, Shi Feiyang clasped his hands in a fist salute to Zhou Weirou, "Thank you for your righteous help, Miss Zhou. Would you do me the honor of having a drink with me?"

Zhou Weirou raised an eyebrow. "You can have drinks, but you have to tell me honestly what your purpose is in coming to Suzhou."

Shi Feiyang laughed heartily, "Miss Zhou is indeed quick-witted. Come on, the squirrel-shaped mandarin fish at Songhelou is a specialty, let's eat and chat."

Seeing Shi Feiyang's open and honest demeanor, Zhou Weirou's wariness lessened slightly.

She followed behind Shi Feiyang, thinking to herself, "Hmph, I'll see what you're really up to!"

Along the way, Zhou Weirou would sometimes tease Shi Feiyang about his tattered clothes, and sometimes comment on the novelties on the street, acting like a street ruffian. Yet, she was also subtly observing Shi Feiyang's every move, revealing her clever, cunning, bold, and meticulous personality.

In early spring, a light snow was falling in Suzhou, and the Songhelou Restaurant was bustling with customers. The large red lanterns hanging high under the mahogany plaques between the carved beams and painted rafters reflected the snowflakes with a warm glow, while the blue stone steps in front of the door were covered with a thin layer of ice, reflecting the gold thread embroidery on the gorgeous clothes of the diners coming and going.

Two bodyguards in brocade robes stood on either side of the door. The one on the left had a fleshy face, his beard covered in ice crystals, and his leather wrist guards with copper studs gleamed coldly. The one on the right was thin, with a pair of triangular eyes darting around beneath a hooked nose, and his knuckles were as thick as gnarled old tree roots—clearly a master of Eagle Claw Kung Fu. Shi Feiyang, dressed in a coarse cloth jacket patched upon patched, with a few strands of dry grass clinging to his hair, stepped into the front hall, his money pouch jingling.

Before he could even speak, the burly bodyguard had already taken half a step forward, the gold-embroidered cuff of his sleeve whipping up a gust of wind as it swept heavily across his chest: "Go away! You little beggar dare to come to Songhelou to freeload? Don't you even know whose territory this is!"

The crane with outstretched wings embroidered in gold thread on the cuffs now seemed to be mocking his disheveled appearance.

A cold glint flashed in Shi Feiyang's glassy eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zhou Weirou leaning against him, a half-smile playing on her lips, clearly waiting to see how he would react. He immediately plastered on a fawning smile, shaking his money pouch: "Sir, this is the silver I just used to pawn my jade pendant, you see..."

"Would someone who owns a jade pendant dress like this?" The triangular-eyed bodyguard sneered, making a strange, duck-like sound in his throat.

He secretly channeled his Eagle Claw Kung Fu, veins bulging on his palms, his fingernails gleaming bluish-gray in the snowy light. "If you don't get out of here, don't blame us for being impolite!"

Before he finished speaking, his five fingers, like iron hooks, struck Shi Feiyang's wrist, and the resulting gust of wind swirled the snow on the ground into small snow pillars.

Shi Feiyang swayed slightly, then used the mysterious lightness skill of "hiding one's body and name" to slip away three feet away like an eel.

The triangular-eyed bodyguard couldn't stop in time, his eagle claws slamming heavily onto the bluestone steps. With a "crack," five half-inch deep grooves were carved into the hard stone slab. A gasp rippled through the crowd. Seeing this, the burly bodyguard abruptly ripped open his brocade robe, revealing golden chainmail underneath, and drew his long sword with a clang: "What a reckless fool! Daring to cause trouble at Songhelou?"

Seeing this, Zhou Weirou stepped forward, fanning herself with a folding fan, and deliberately made the heavy money pouch at her waist jingle: "Gentlemen, please calm down. My brother here may be poorly dressed, but he is an honest man. Just now at Taihe Pawnshop, he exchanged a piece of Hetian mutton fat jade for eighty taels of silver."

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Shi Feiyang and saw him brushing the dust off his clothes, a hint of amusement in his glassy eyes.

The triangular-eyed bodyguard looked the two up and down suspiciously, his hooked nose almost touching Zhou Weirou's face: "Eighty taels? With him?"

He suddenly reached out and snatched Shi Feiyang's money bag, saying, "I want to see if it's real or fake!"

Instead of retreating, Shi Feiyang advanced. With a flick of his wrist, the money pouch disappeared into the deerskin bag, and the fingertips of the triangular-eyed man barely brushed against his sleeve.

"Insolence!" the burly bodyguard roared, his longsword slashing out in a half-circle of light.

Before the blade even arrived, the snowflakes were already shredded into ice shards.

Shi Feiyang lightly touched the ground with his toes, using the momentum to leap onto the vermilion pillar under the corridor. His coarse cloth jacket fluttered in the wind: "Are you two planning to double-cross me? I have plenty of money in my purse..."

"What are you carrying? Stolen goods, I suppose!" The triangular-eyed bodyguard chuckled as he flicked a soft whip from his sleeve, the copper bell at the tip making everyone's eardrums ache. "Songhelou's rule—those who are not properly dressed will not be served! Looking like you, you're probably not even worthy of licking the kitchen swill bucket!"

Zhou Weirou suddenly burst into laughter, slamming her folding fan heavily on Shi Feiyang's shoulder: "Brother, it seems we won't be eating squirrel mandarin fish today. But..." She slowly pulled out a ten-tael ingot of snowflake silver from her bosom and waved it in front of the bodyguard, "This silver should be enough to buy half of your face, right?" The burly bodyguard stared intently at the silver, his Adam's apple bobbing twice.

The man with the triangular eyes blocked his way with a sinister look: "Old Zhang, don't break the rules. This beggar..."

Before he could finish speaking, Shi Feiyang had already pounced on him like a ghost, a flash of silver light in his palm, and several strands of silkworm silk silently wrapped around the acupoints on his wrist.

"Ouch!" The triangular-eyed bodyguard cried out in pain as his Eagle Claw Kung Fu dissipated instantly, and he collapsed to the ground.

Shi Feiyang clapped his hands and smiled at the dumbfounded, burly bodyguard, "Sir, my clothes may be tattered, but my fists are hard. Tell me, can I go in now?"

At this moment, the curtain of Songhelou was suddenly lifted, and a middle-aged manager dressed in a brocade robe strode out.

He glanced at the triangular-eyed man on the ground, then at the silver in Zhou Weirou's hand, and immediately plastered a smile on his face: "Misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! Distinguished guests, please come in!" He glared fiercely at the burly bodyguard, "Hurry up and apologize to our distinguished guests!"

The bodyguard, his face contorted with rage, stammered for a long time, but couldn't utter a word.

There's no way I could apologize to a little beggar.

This unexpected turn of events drew the attention of onlookers who stopped to watch.

Zhou Weirou leaned against the vermilion pillar, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the soft whip at her waist, her almond eyes narrowed—Shi Feiyang's dodging technique just now clearly contained the subtle beauty of unparalleled martial arts.

"You snobbish bastards!" A furious shout suddenly rang out from the street corner, and more than twenty disheveled beggars, brandishing dog-beating sticks, swarmed over. The old beggar at the head of the group, limping on his right leg, had one eye blazing with rage: "My brothers in the Beggars' Clan have never seen anyone bully people like you!"

"Oh ho, trying to cause trouble?" The burly bodyguard drew a nine-section steel whip from his waist, the tip swirling with a mist of snow. "Do you know whose property Songhelou is? It's the business of the Prince of Zhennan's mansion, you bunch of stinking beggars..."

Upon seeing this, Shi Feiyang suddenly shouted, "Fellow villagers, take a look!"

He tore open his sleeve, revealing a hideous old scar on his forearm. "This scar was left when I was fighting the enemy in the Northwest. Now I've returned home in glory, and all I wanted was a hot meal, but I've been humiliated like this!" His words were half true and half false, which aroused a lot of discussion among the onlookers.

Zhou Weirou sneered inwardly, thinking to herself that this kid was quite the smooth talker.

She subtly moved into the crowd, when she suddenly saw Shi Feiyang and the old beggar exchange a glance, their eyes flashing with a tacit understanding.

This detail was fleeting, but it didn't escape her notice. "Beat that bully who's abusing his master's power!" someone in the beggar group shouted.

In an instant, the Dog-Beating Stick Technique was unleashed, clashing with the bodyguard's steel whip.

Shi Feiyang subtly channeled silver threads within his sleeves, only to subtly guide them at the crucial moment, causing the bodyguards' attacks to miss their mark.

Zhou Weirou could clearly see that this seemingly chaotic fight was actually being controlled by Shi Feiyang.

"Stop!" A loud shout rang out, and the middle-aged shopkeeper, dressed in brocade and holding an abacus, rushed out of the door.

He caught a glimpse of the silver ingots dangling from Shi Feiyang's waist, his eyes flashing slightly. "Young sir, our humble shop has no respect for your esteemed presence. Please come in!"

Shi Feiyang dusted himself off and raised an eyebrow at Zhou Weirou: "Brother Zhou, is this meal on me?" With that, he casually stepped over the threshold, the shards of ice in his hair reflecting a shimmering light under the lantern.

Snowflakes clung to the carved window frames, sifting the twilight of Suzhou into shimmering silver light. Zhou Weirou gazed at Shi Feiyang's straight back, the sharp figure that had shattered the blood-dripping bullets in the wind and snow gradually overlapping with the "beggar" before her, covered in bits of grass.

As he brushed the remaining snow off his shoulder, a cold glint flashed in his glassy eyes, like a drawn blade disappearing into its sheath, making him unfathomable.

Inside Songhelou, gilded candlesticks flickered, and the aroma of aged wine lingered among the sandalwood beams and pillars.

As soon as Shi Feiyang sat down by the window, the shopkeeper bowed and presented him with a gilded wine pot. The steam rising from the spout condensed into white mist between the two of them: "Please forgive me, sir. My servant was rude just now. This jar of thirty-year-old Shaoxing wine is our apology."

The white porcelain bowl clinked against the table, and Zhou Weirou watched the amber-colored wine ripple, her bamboo chopsticks tapping out a broken rhythm on the rim. "Brother Xiang's self-inflicted injury scheme is brilliant," she suddenly leaned forward, her moon-white robe sleeve slipping down to reveal a silver whip wrapped around her wrist. "But the way that old beggar cooperated with you—" she paused, dipping her fingertip in wine and drawing the character "beggar" on the table, "...it's like a play that's been rehearsed a hundred times."

Shi Feiyang tilted his head back and drank the wine in his glass. As his Adam's apple bobbed, the wine slid down his neck and into his coarse cloth collar.

He suddenly reached out and grasped her wrist as she painted, the warmth of his palm seeping through her thin sleeve: "Miss Zhou has a good eye."

Her glassy eyes gleamed strangely in the candlelight. "Elder Peng of the Beggars' Sect and I have a long-standing relationship. This time, I'm simply asking an old friend for help."

Zhou Weirou tried to pull her hand away, but he held it even tighter.

As the two were locked in a stalemate, the noise from the diners at the next table suddenly rose, startling the silver pendant on her earlobe, which swayed gently.

Shi Feiyang released his hand, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against the thin calluses on her wrist—marks left from years of whip training.

"Miss Zhou seems to care so much about me," he suddenly chuckled, his voice extremely low, "could it be..."

"Shut up!" Zhou Weirou stood up abruptly, her wine cup tipping over, the amber liquid flowing like a stream on the sandalwood table. "I just can't stand seeing people playing tricks in Suzhou!" As she turned, the wooden hairpin in her hair brushed past Shi Feiyang's ear, and the jasmine-scented ends of her hair brushed against his cool cheek.

Shi Feiyang watched her flustered back, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of his wine glass.

The snow outside the window had stopped sometime earlier, and moonlight filtered through the carved window lattice, casting dappled silver spots on her skirt. When Zhou Weirou turned around again, she saw him using bamboo chopsticks to trace patterns in the wine stains. The lines were winding and twisting, resembling an unfinished map of the martial arts world.

“Miss Zhou, do you know,” he said without looking up, his voice mingling with the aroma of wine, “that Guanqian Street, though seemingly bustling, is actually rife with undercurrents.” The bamboo chopsticks suddenly snapped, splinters flying into the wine stains. “The previous jade pendant transaction was merely a prelude to something more.”

Zhou Weirou's breath hitched as she recalled the pawnshop owner's meaningful look at her at the end.

She sat down again, her skirt brushing against the shards of porcelain on the floor, making a soft, clattering sound: "What exactly are you plotting?"

Before the words were finished, the sound of porcelain shattering suddenly came from the second floor, followed by hurried footsteps.

Shi Feiyang's glassy eyes narrowed suddenly, the deerskin bag suddenly glowed faintly, and Zhou Weirou's silver whip had quietly slipped into her palm.

The moonlight after the snow was suddenly obscured by dark clouds, and the candlelight inside Songhe Tower flickered.

In the interplay of light and shadow, the gazes between the two men held a probing and confrontation sharper than swords.

A richly dressed young man leaned out, tapping Shi Feiyang's tattered clothes with his folding fan, and cursed, "Where did this beggar come from, daring to sit in such an elegant seat? Manager, throw him out!"

Zhou Weirou's soft whip slipped three inches out of her hand, but Shi Feiyang calmly got up.

A faint silver light shimmered around him, and the fine threads formed by his Heavenly Silkworm Technique coiled around the beams and pillars like a spider web.

“Since you find this objectionable, young master,” Shi Feiyang grinned, revealing his gleaming white teeth, “then how about we find another place to dine?”

Before he could finish speaking, the second-floor railing suddenly creaked under the strain.

The elegantly dressed young man's expression changed drastically, and amidst the gasps of the crowd, he and the table and chairs plummeted to the first floor.

At the critical moment, the silver threads that Shi Feiyang spat out from his palm wrapped around his waist like serpents, gently placing him on the ground.

"You flatter me." Shi Feiyang dusted off non-existent dust, a playful glint in his glassy eyes. "It's just to let you experience the feeling of 'flying like a celestial being from beyond the heavens.'" In the silence of the room, Zhou Weirou watched his composed demeanor, her inner alarm bells ringing loudly—beneath this seemingly carefree exterior lay the power and cunning to control the entire situation.

The aroma of wine filled the air inside Songhelou Restaurant. Amidst the commotion, a green shadow moved through the corridor like a ghost.

The one-armed Taoist priest's long sword trembled slightly at his waist, and the Tai Chi double fish pattern on the hilt was faintly visible in the candlelight.

He paused in front of Shi Feiyang's table, his black Taoist robe brushing against the cups and saucers, and said in a low voice, "Young man, my boss would like to have a chat with you!"

Shi Feiyang's gaze swept over the Taoist priest's empty left sleeve, then caught sight of the old strip of cloth wrapped around the hilt of his sword—a unique sword-wrapping technique of the Wudang School. A thought stirred within him, and his fingertips unconsciously rubbed the deerskin bag. He turned to face Zhou Weirou, but put on a smile: "Sister, wait a moment."

He turned and winked at Zhou Weirou, then slammed a large silver ingot on the table. "Order whatever you want, and call more if you're still hungry!"

Zhou Weirou watched his departing figure, lightly tapped the table with her fingertips, suddenly put the silver into her pocket, and stood up gracefully.

She circled around the screen, moved nimbly among the beams and pillars, and disappeared into the shadows behind the side room.

Through the gaps in the carved window lattice, the interior of the house can be seen in its entirety.

The candlelight flickered in the side room, and seven people sat around a sandalwood round table.

The man in the center had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, and the cloud patterns embroidered on his black brocade robe rose and fell with his breath. He was none other than Yu Wanting, the leader of the Red Flower Society.

His hand holding the celadon teacup paused, and his gaze swept over Shi Feiyang like a hawk's: "Your martial arts are quite impressive! May I ask for your guidance?"

Shi Feiyang clasped his hands in a salute, his patched coarse cloth clothes gleaming faintly in the candlelight: "I am Xiang Tiange of Wudang, and I have long admired the Red Flower Society's reputation of 'capturing all the heroes of the world.'" Before he finished speaking, the middle-aged fat man on his left had already stood up with a smile.

This man had a round head and a round face, but he carried twenty-four strangely shaped hidden weapons at his waist. He was none other than Zhao Banshan, the third leader of the Red Flower Society, known as "Thousand-Handed Tathagata".

"When did the Wudang Sect produce someone like you?" Zhao Banshan's palm was soft as cotton, but his internal energy wrapped around Shi Feiyang's wrist like silkworm silk.

As the Tai Chi energy flowed, Shi Feiyang felt a tightness in his palm, which was even harder to break free from than an iron clamp.

However, Shi Feiyang neither dodged nor evaded, but instead laughed loudly: "Third Master's 'sticky' technique has indeed captured the essence of Wang-style Tai Chi. However, compared to your self-created 'Returning Dragon Jade,' it's still lacking!" Before he finished speaking, a silver light suddenly appeared in his palm. The silver threads formed by his Heavenly Silkworm Skill burrowed into Zhao Banshan's skin like snakes, the seemingly gentle threads instantly wrapping around his meridians, twisting Zhao Banshan's surging internal energy into a tangled mess. (End of this chapter)