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

The twilight along the Zhenjiang section of the Yangtze River was as intense as blood, and eight cargo ships, dragging heavy iron anchors, slowly moved southward.

The Qing soldiers at the bow of the boat had swords hanging at their waists, their blades gleaming coldly in the setting sun. However, no one noticed that 107 awning boats were quietly approaching from the river mist.

As the first clang of the clapper pierced the tranquility of the river, the black flag with a gold dragon of the Red Flower Society pierced the twilight like a sharp sword. Master Wuchen's Soul-Chasing Sword was the first to be drawn, its light flashing like lightning, heading straight for the throat of the lookout post on the cargo ship.

"Attack!" Wei Chunhua's roar was like thunder, causing ripples to spread across the river. The Wu-Yue hook in his hand, carrying immense force, slammed heavily onto the deck of the cargo ship.

The Qing soldiers panicked. Some drew their swords to fight, while others turned to flee. But Luo Bing wielded her mandarin duck swords like an impenetrable barrier, and her flying knives, like shooting stars, instantly pierced the throats of the three men.

Zhao Banshan raised his hands repeatedly, and twenty-four Returning Dragon Jade Discs wove a net of death in the air, splattering blood wherever they passed.

"Haha, you cowards of the Red Flower Society, you've come at the perfect time!" The Qing soldiers on the cargo ship jumped into the water and swam away.

One of them, holding a judge's pen, stood by the boat. He was none other than Zhou Li, the "Life-Taking Judge," the prized student of Wei Nianhua, who was in charge of the Jingzhanban Bureau.

He smiled sinisterly, his voice laced with coldness: "You think robbing the grain transport silver is so easy? Today, I'll make sure you don't leave alive!" A chill ran down Master Wuchen's spine. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Brothers, be careful! It's a trap!"

The moment his words fell, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder. Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Immediately afterward, Zhang Jin swiftly swung his heavy bronze cudgel, preparing to smash it down into the cabin, when suddenly, a deafening explosion rang out. Flames, like flames falling from the sky, shot straight into the heavens, and a huge hole was blasted in the deck of the cargo ship, with fragments of wood pouring down like a torrential rain, falling into the river.

"Damn it! We've been ambushed!" Zhao Banshan roared, his voice filled with anger and warning. He hurriedly warned his disciples to evacuate immediately. However, the shockwave from the explosion was too violent. Zhao Banshan felt a sharp pain in his chest, followed by a spurt of blood.

The Chang brothers' grappling hooks traced eerie arcs in the air as they tried to grab the falling wooden beams, but the force of the shockwave was too great. They were mercilessly thrown into the air and crashed heavily into another ship next to them.

The Qing soldiers who had jumped into the river suddenly burst into laughter. The leading officer wiped the charcoal ash from his face, revealing his狰狞 (zhengning, meaning ferocious or hideous) face, and shouted triumphantly, "You dogs of the Red Flower Society! You think you're so great just because you have 76,000 men? Let me tell you, our Heaven and Earth Society has nearly a million men! You can all die! Hahaha!"

Before his voice had completely faded, three more warships that had been hidden in the shadows suddenly burst out of the water. The red cannons on the warships were already aimed at the Red Flower Society's ships, ready to launch a fatal blow.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Master Wuchen, using his unparalleled lightness skill of "Crossing the River on a Reed," attempted to lead everyone away from this dangerous water battlefield. However, the Heaven and Earth Society was clearly prepared. Countless fishing nets were thrown from the warships, like giant nets, tightly entangling the Red Flower Society's ships and making it difficult for them to escape.

In that instant, explosions, shouts of killing, and screams mingled together, and blood-red waves surged on the surface of the Yangtze River, creating utter chaos. The more than 20,000 Red Flower Society disciples who had boarded the cargo ship, along with the fake cargo ship, were reduced to ashes and disappeared into the river in a series of explosions.

Amidst the chaos and carnage, Zhao Banshan was thrown into the river by the blast wave. He struggled to the surface and witnessed the horrific scene. His eyes practically blazed with fury: "Heaven and Earth Society! I, Zhao Banshan, swear I will not rest until I avenge this!" Luo Bing brandished her pair of mandarin duck knives, protecting the wounded Yu Yutong as tears mingled with blood streamed down her face: "Brothers! Let's retreat!"

Her voice was filled with sorrow and despair, as if all hope had been shattered at that moment.

The night sky over Zhenjiang was illuminated crimson by the blazing firelight. The surviving members of the Red Flower Society stood on the shore, watching the ship slowly sink, their hearts filled with endless grief and sorrow, as if their hearts were being torn apart.

This devastating defeat not only cost the Red Flower Society 20,000 elite disciples, but also caused its prestige in the martial arts world to plummet, its reputation to rock bottom. Meanwhile, in the shadows, Shi Feiyang stood by the riverbank, gazing at the firelight on the water, a cold, cruel smile playing on his lips, as if he had foreseen all of this.

The mighty river swept away countless innocent souls. This bloody battle in Zhenjiang was destined to become a bloody memory in the martial arts world, and the feud between the Red Flower Society and the Heaven and Earth Society was thus forged into an even deeper, intractable knot.

Master Wuchen, Zhao Banshan, Luo Bing, Yu Yutong, and others ran back to Chixia Peak in Taihu Lake, heartbroken, unaware that someone was secretly following them. In the dense forest not far away, the "Death-Taking Judge" Zhou Li, the "Parting Hook" Wei Nianhua, the "Eagle Claw" Bai Zhen, the "Golden Crow Blade Saint" You Ning, the "Heavenly Gang Acupoint Killing Hand" Chen Feng, and the young guard Lu Fangtian, leading three hundred palace guards, surrounded the Red Flower Society headquarters like ferocious beasts.

Taihu Lake was shrouded in leaden clouds, and in the deep forest of Chixia Peak, the headquarters of the Red Flower Society was filled with flying paper money like snowflakes.

Dressed in plain white mourning clothes, Chen Jialuo knelt before Yu Wanting's grave, his knuckles digging deep into the yellow earth: "Father, your disciple is incompetent! The bones of twenty thousand brothers are not yet cold, and the fate of Brother Wen is still unknown..."

His voice choked and broken, startling the crows in the woods.

Master Wuchen leaned on the Soul-Chasing Sword with one arm, dark red blood seeping from the bandages at the severed arm.

Zhao Banshan trembled as he pulled out the last three Returning Dragon Jade Tokens, the sound of metal clashing mingling with Luo Bing's suppressed sobs.

Yu Yutong gently stroked the golden flute, which was still stained with the blood from the Battle of Zhenjiang. Suddenly, his pupils contracted sharply: "Be careful! There is..." Before he could finish speaking, a whooshing sound suddenly arose, and a dangerous aura instantly spread.

The Crimson Cloud Peak was suffocated by dark clouds, and the damp air was filled with a rusty, bloody stench.

The silver bells in Luo Bing's hair, stained with undried blood, whimpered softly in the wind. Just as she sheathed the blood-stained Mandarin Duck Swords, she suddenly felt a chill rise to her neck—Wei Nianhua's Parting Hook, like a venomous snake's tongue, its dark blue tip tearing through the rain, aimed straight for her throat.

"Watch out!" Chang Hezhi's mourning staff came hurtling through the air with a sharp whistling sound. Sparks flew as the iron chain clashed with the hook blade, leaving a breathtaking trail of light in the dark sky. Chang Bozhi's flying claw, like a black python turning over, wrapped around the hook's tail and yanked hard: "You dogs from the Sticky Pole Bureau, you dare to run wild on the Red Flower Society's territory?" Wei Nianhua's lips curled into a cold smile, and the parting hook suddenly flew out of his hand, drawing a strange arc in the air.

When the Thirty-Six Forms of Hooking and Locking Heaven and Earth were unleashed, the silver light transformed into an impenetrable net of death, trapping the Chang brothers in the center: "You two are just jinxes? Where was this imposing manner when the Qingcheng Sect was wiped out ten years ago!"

Bai Zhen's eagle eyes were wide open, and the shrill sound of his iron claws tearing through the air was enough to make anyone's teeth ache.

His scarlet pupils locked onto the deerskin pouch at Zhao Banshan's waist: "Thousand-Hand Tathagata? Your broken copper and scrap iron, today I will show you what real hidden weapon skills are!" Before he finished speaking, five iron fingers had already pierced the opponent's Tanzhong acupoint, and wherever the force of the wind passed, the blue bricks on the ground cracked inch by inch.

Zhao Banshan's expression was solemn, and his figure flashed like a cat.

Twenty-four bone-piercing nails rained down like a storm, weaving a shimmering net of arrows in the air.

Bai Zhen let out a strange cry, and his iron claws swirled like a whirlwind, knocking all the hidden weapons away.

One of the bone-piercing nails bounced back, grazing Zhao Banshan's ear and shaving off a few strands of gray hair.

The sound of metal clashing echoed from the depths of the dense forest. You Ning's Golden Crow Blade flashed with crimson light, like a burning sunset. She lightly touched the treetops with her toes and swooped down with a delicate shout: "Wudang bastards, taste the Golden Crow Sect's 'Melting Gold Under the Blazing Sun'!" The air crackled as the blade cleaved through the rain.

Yu Yu and Jin Di are placed horizontally, the flute body radiating a warm purple light.

He unleashed the Wudang Soft Cloud Sword Technique, the flute's shadow clashing with the blade's light, producing a sound like a dragon's roar.

You Ning's blade suddenly turned, and the back of the blade slammed heavily onto his shoulder.

Yu Yutong groaned, staggered to his knees, and coughed up blood that splattered on the bluestone slab, blooming into bewitching red plum blossoms.

"Brother Yu!" Luo Bing, his eyes red, threw three flying knives, but they were easily deflected by Wei Nianhua's parting hook.

She gritted her teeth, drew her pair of swords, and unleashed her family's inherited Mandarin Duck Continuous Sword Technique, the blade flashing like a sky full of stars.

Wei Nianhua sneered, and suddenly the hook tip popped out barbs, hooking onto the back of her knife and pulling hard.

Luo Bing lost her balance and stumbled forward.

At the critical moment, Chang Hezhi's iron chain wrapped around her waist like a serpent, pulling her back.

But this delay allowed Wei Nianhua's parting hook to tear open her left shoulder, and as the flesh rolled back, blood gushed out.

The rain poured down, and blood flowed like a river on the bluestone steps of Crimson Cloud Peak.

Blood gushed from the wound on Luo Bing's left shoulder, staining her emerald green skirt red as it fluttered wildly in the wind.

Wei Nianhua's parting hook gleamed with a cold, eerie blue light, its tip just three inches from her heart. His sinister grin carried a chilling murderous intent: "You wretched bitch, your man is still imprisoned in a dog cage by us, yet you still have the nerve to roam the world, heh heh! Today is your death anniversary! I'll send you on your way first, so you can wait for your man on the road to the underworld!"

At the critical moment, Chang Bozhi roared and his claw flew like a black dragon emerging from the abyss, the iron chain wrapping around Wei Nianhua's wrist.

Chang Hezhi's flying grab followed closely behind, the iron chain wrapping around the opponent's neck like a serpent.

The two brothers exerted their strength simultaneously, their muscular arms bulging with veins, and lifted Wei Nianhua into the air.

Wei Nianhua's face turned bluish-purple, and strange gurgling sounds came from his throat, but he still cackled: "Is that all you've got? Look behind you!"

Everyone turned to look, and flames licked the night sky from the direction of the Crimson Cloud Peak headquarters, while screams mixed with explosions pierced the rain.

Luo Bing's hand holding the knife trembled slightly, and pain and despair flashed in her eyes.

"Run!" Master Wuchen twirled his sword with one arm, deflecting Zhang Zhaozhong's thrusting sword.

The Wudang "Seven Stars Chasing the Moon" sword technique blossomed into seven cold glints in the rain. Zhang Zhaozhong pointed his sword tip directly at his throat and sneered, "One-Armed Old Taoist, your Soul-Chasing and Life-Taking Sword is nothing special!"

"Zhang Zhaozhong! You scoundrel, so young yet so wicked!" Daoist Wuchen's white hair flew wildly, and sword energy crisscrossed between his torn sleeves. "If my fourth brother is even slightly harmed, today will be your death day!" The Soul-Chasing Sword transformed into a streak of light, taking an unorthodox approach to target vital points.

The two swords clashed, sparks flew and sizzled in the rain, and the blue brick ground was cleaved with deep marks by the sword energy.

Zhang Zhaozhong suddenly changed his move, and when he struck out with his soft palm, it carried a gentle, yin-like energy.

Master Wuchen dodged to the side, his robes torn by the palm strike, revealing a hideous old scar on his shoulder.

He immediately unleashed the essence of the "Soul-Chasing and Life-Taking Sword," wielding a single arm to unleash a sky full of sword shadows, each strike aimed directly at the vital point.

Zhang Zhaozhong was caught off guard and his forehead was covered in cold sweat mixed with rain. He almost dropped his long sword.

"You old bastard, at your age, why don't you just die!" Zhou Li, the "Death Judge," charged forward, wielding his judge's pen, the poisoned blue tip of which flickered in the rain. The two attacked from the left and right, but despite fighting two opponents, Master Wuchen's swordsmanship remained unwavering. His Soul-Chasing Sword transformed into a dragon, deflecting their attacks one by one. Suddenly, a crimson light pierced the air! You Ning lightly touched the treetops with her toes, and her Golden Crow Blade unleashed a blazing light—the "Melting Gold Under the Blazing Sun" technique from the "Golden Crow Blade Art." As the blade cleaved through the rain, the air exploded with a crackling sound, heat and cold mingling, forcing Master Wuchen to parry with his own sword.

With a loud clang, the Golden Crow Blade and the Soul-Chasing Sword collided, and the sparks that flew up illuminated You Ning's cold and beautiful face.

With three against one, Daoist Wuchen was gradually losing ground.

He wielded his longsword with only one arm, his robes stained with blood, yet he still gritted his teeth and persevered.

You Ning's swordplay became increasingly fierce, each strike carrying the power to split mountains and shatter rocks; Zhang Zhaozhong's Wudang swordsmanship and soft palm techniques worked seamlessly together, taking an unorthodox approach; Zhou Li's judge's pen focused on attacking the lower body, occasionally launching poisoned hidden weapons.

"What a rising star!" Daoist Wuchen's sword deflected You Ning's blade, causing his tiger's mouth to crack and bleed.

You Ning let out a sharp cry, and the Golden Crow Blade suddenly changed its move, sweeping the back of the blade horizontally and slamming it heavily onto Daoist Wuchen's shoulder.

A sharp pain shot through him, and Daoist Wuchen staggered half a step. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Zhang Zhaozhong thrust his longsword straight at Wuchen's back.

At the critical moment, Zhao Banshan's bone-piercing nails came raining down, forcing Zhang Zhao to return to his sword to parry.

Master Wuchen seized the opportunity, used his superb lightness skill to break through the encirclement, turned around and looked at the headquarters where the battle was deafening, his eyes were bloodshot: "Brothers, listen to my command! As long as we live, we can fight again! Retreat! Retreat!" In the rain, the heroes of the Red Flower Society fought and retreated.

With tears in her eyes, Luo Bing looked back at the corpses scattered on the ground, the bloodstains on the Mandarin Duck Swords stained in the rain.

Yu Yutong's golden flute was broken, yet he still used the broken flute as a sword to protect his wounded brother.

Lu Fangtian drew the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) positions with both hands in front of his chest, his Tiangang Finger Technique as elusive as a ghost. Wherever his fingers touched, strange ripples appeared in the air, and Zhang Jin's bronze staff was twisted by the invisible force. "A mere trick!" Zhang Jin roared, his bronze staff sweeping across the battlefield. Lu Fangtian, stepping in the Bagua stance, grazed Zhang Jin's arm with his fingertips, instantly leaving three deep, bone-revealing bloody gashes.

Chen Jialuo, his eyes red-rimmed, moved his palms, channeling all his inner strength: "You scoundrel! Give me back my brother's life!"

He unleashed the Hundred Flowers Fist, his movements unpredictable and ever-changing.

Chen Feng waved his large, black-gold fan, from which nine bone-piercing nails suddenly sprang forth: "Chen Jialuo, this world ultimately belongs to the Emperor!" Before his words had even finished, Shi Feiyang appeared masked, unleashing his "Giant Spirit Palm," which sent shockwaves through the air, snapping trees in its wake. His palm strike was overwhelming. Chen Jialuo clenched his fist to withstand the blow, but felt his tiger's mouth crack open, his internal organs tremble with discomfort, and then he coughed up blood.

Master Wuchen swung his sword to save them, but the Soul-Chasing Sword was shattered into pieces by the force of his palm! Zhao Banshan threw out the Returning Dragon Jade, and Shi Feiyang used the "Shifting Flowers and Receiving Jade" divine skill, causing the hidden weapon to fly back and pierce through more than a hundred Red Flower Society disciples on the spot.

"Go! As long as we live, we'll survive!" Master Wuchen shouted, his one-armed long sleeve sweeping up the survivors as he used his superb lightness skill to break through the encirclement.

Dark clouds loomed over the city, as if foreshadowing an impending storm. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the cold smile hidden behind Shi Feiyang's mask.

Wei Nianhua put away the hook in his hand, clasped his hands and respectfully said to the Emperor, "Your Majesty is wise. After this battle, the Red Flower Society has been severely weakened and can no longer cause trouble."

Standing amidst the scattered limbs and broken bodies, Shi Feiyang lightly touched the Jade Dragon Hook to his palm, his gaze deep and resolute: "Issue an order: command the Sticky Pole Bureau to closely monitor the remnants of the Red Flower Society. This game of the martial world has only reached its middle stage. Next, we must lure them to the palace to rescue Wen Tailai from his dog cage!"

Blood and rainwater mingled together, meandering and forming streams.

Deep in the dense forest, the tattered flag of the Red Flower Society fluttered in the wind, like a mournful elegy. At this moment, Chen Feng rushed over to report to Shi Feiyang: "Master, we have raided the Red Flower Society headquarters and found a total of six million taels of silver and thirty million shi of grain."

Shi Feiyang laughed heartily, his voice brimming with pride: "Excellent! Escort them all back to the capital. I will personally lead the escort this time. Starting next month, all officials will receive a pay raise; high salaries will be used to encourage integrity. Wei Nianhua, after this campaign, you will return to the Imperial Study to handle official duties. From now on, Chen Feng and He Kun will accompany me. Remember, keep a close eye on all the civil and military officials. Anyone who dares to embezzle even a single coin will have their hands chopped off, their family property confiscated, and their entire clan exterminated!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Wei Nianhua was extremely excited and knelt down to obey the order, feeling immense admiration for the emperor's wise decision.

Half a month later, on the official road, armored vehicles lined up like a forest, and three hundred grain carts formed a three-mile-long formation, moving in a grand and imposing manner.

Shi Feiyang sat upright in the vermilion carriage, his mutton-fat jade thumb ring striking the jade dragon hook, producing a clear and melodious sound.

The silk curtains of the vermilion carriage were half-rolled up, and the beautiful Su Dai leaned against Shi Feiyang's chest, the pearl hairpins at her temples trembling slightly with the swaying of the carriage.

She looked up at the mutton-fat jade thumb ring and jade dragon hook clashing in the man's hands. The crisp sound, mixed with the fragrance of ambergris, lingered in the carriage. "Your Majesty is so leisurely, aren't you afraid..." Before she could finish speaking, the sound of metal clashing suddenly came from outside the carriage.

Shi Feiyang lightly tapped the carriage wall with his fingertips. Under the influence of the Mingyu Gong, his skin glowed with a warm luster, like jade, exuding an indescribable mysterious power: "Su'er, do you know that the most dangerous place is often the safest? If the evil bandits of the Red Flower Society dare to come again, I will wipe them all out in one fell swoop!" A mysterious smile appeared on his lips as he looked through the carved carriage window at the churning clouds on the horizon, as if he were conversing with the heavens.

Three hundred grain carts lined up for three miles along the official road. The black cloaks of the armored soldiers fluttered in the wind, like a lurking black dragon awaiting a thunderous strike. Outside the carriage curtain, Chen Feng's cold and stern face was always half-hidden by his black gold fan. The hidden mechanisms between the fan ribs trembled slightly with his breath, revealing his inner tension and vigilance, like a cheetah ready to pounce at any moment.

At the tender age of eighteen, Heshen, dressed in fine clothes and riding a spirited horse, had a deerskin money bag at his waist that made a crisp sound of gold and silver clinking, attracting frequent glances from soldiers along the way.

His youth and vitality seemed out of place in the somber atmosphere, like a flower blooming on a battlefield.

"Lord Heshen, you seem to be in high spirits." Chen Feng suddenly spoke, his fan swirling to reveal the words "money-grubbing," as if mocking Heshen's arrogance. "Aren't you afraid these 'peace silver' will be stained with blood?"

Heshen clapped his hands and laughed, the jade pendant at his waist making a clear and melodious sound, which was also a response to Chen Feng's question: "Lord Chen is overthinking it. In the battles of the martial world and in the balance of power in the court, isn't it all about 'profit'?"

He suddenly reined in his horse and approached the carriage, lowering his voice to say, "Your Majesty, dark clouds are gathering over the Tongbai Mountain Pass ahead, I'm afraid..."

Before he could finish speaking, Wei Nianhua's farewell hook had already been drawn with a hum! The commander of the Sticky Rod Office suddenly pulled on the reins, and the warhorse reared up, its neighing tearing through the deathly silence like a bugle call on the battlefield.

"An ambush!" His hook pointed directly at the dense forest on both sides of the mountain path, its cold blue light reflecting off his tense jaw. Three hundred grain carts creaked and groaned simultaneously, and the armored soldiers quickly formed a defensive formation, the clash of swords and shields startling the mountain birds into flight.

The three hundred grain carts were not loaded with grain and silver, but with elite Imperial Guards.

All the money and grain were stuffed into a mysterious deerskin bag at Shi Feiyang's waist.

In an instant, thunderous war drums resounded from the depths of the dense forest!

Thousands of Red Flower Society disciples surged out like a tide, their black flags with gold dragons fluttering in the wind like battle flags on a battlefield.

Chen Jialuo, dressed in white, his long sword gleaming with a clear, resonant roar as it was drawn; Daoist Wuchen leaned on his sword with one arm, his white hair dancing wildly in the wind; Luo Bing's pair of mandarin duck swords gleamed with a cold light, the red silk on the hilts already soaked with the bloodstains of the Battle of Zhenjiang, like a war god on the battlefield.

"You henchmen of the imperial court, return my brothers' lives!" Luo Bing's furious roar pierced the rain, and three throwing knives shot towards the grain cart like meteors, like hidden weapons on a battlefield. Wei Nianhua sneered, his parting hook drawing a strange arc, deflecting all the hidden weapons with a clang: "Remnants of the Red Flower Society, do you really think the imperial army is just for show?" He unleashed the Thirty-Six Forms of Hook and Lock, silver light weaving a net of death, instantly killing thirteen Red Flower Society disciples, like a god of death on the battlefield.

Shi Feiyang slowly lifted the curtain, and under the influence of the Mingyu Gong, his body radiated a crystal-clear halo.

He looked at the trembling longsword in Chen Jialuo's hand and suddenly chuckled, "Chief Chen, your Hundred Flowers Fist is far inferior to your master's." He then unleashed the "Mountain Splitting" technique of the Hundred Victories Saber with both palms. Wherever the palm wind passed, the bluestone on both sides of the mountain path shattered, and dozens of Red Flower Society disciples were sent flying backward, spitting blood.

Chen Jialuo took the blow head-on, only to feel his tiger's mouth crack from the force. He gritted his teeth, his eyes wide with rage, and demanded sharply, "Hongli! You slaughter the innocent, indiscriminately killing the innocent. Aren't you afraid that the chivalrous heroes of the martial world will rise up and attack you, jeopardizing your throne?"

Before he could finish speaking, Bai Zhen's Eagle Claw technique had already pierced through the air, the shrill sound brought by the iron claws sending chills down one's spine, like a call from hell: "The martial world? In the Emperor's eyes, it's nothing but ants on a chessboard!"

In the midst of the chaotic battle, Su Dai gazed at the icy blue true energy flowing around Shi Feiyang and suddenly remembered the boy who saved her from dire straits when they first met, the hero who planted a seed of hope in her heart.

She gripped the man's sleeve tightly, her voice trembling: "Your Majesty, be careful..." Before she could finish speaking, You Ning's Golden Crow Blade had already unleashed a crimson blade light, its "scorching sun melting gold" blade momentum cleaving through the rain curtain, instantly killing more than thirty disciples of the Red Flower Society, like a reaper on the battlefield, ruthless and cold.

The rain poured down harder, and blood mingled with the rainwater, winding its way along the official road like a river. Chen Jialuo stared at Su Dai, unharmed in Shi Feiyang's arms, his fists clenched, and he roared, "Su Dai! You actually betrayed our aspirations and beliefs by siding with the Qing court!"

Su Dai trembled and buried her head in Shi Feiyang's arms, not daring to look up.

Shi Feiyang stroked her long hair, wisps of white steam rising from his palm. His tone was gentle yet carried an undeniable firmness: "Chief Chen, some birds only learn what it means to cherish and what freedom is when they are locked in a gilded cage." The implication was that Wen Tailai had already been locked in a dog cage.

Inside the vermilion carriage, Su Dai stared at her blood-stained skirt, suddenly unable to distinguish whether the blood was from the martial world or from her own broken heart.

Her heart was filled with confusion and pain, unsure whether her choice was right.

Chen Jialuo was so angry that he was fuming, panting heavily, and unable to speak for a long time.

"Imperial henchmen! Give me back my brother's life!" Luo Bing's mandarin duck swords slashed through the rain, their blades flashing like lightning as they shot towards the grain carts.

Commander Yue Shan of the Imperial Guards roared, and his black iron shields formed an impenetrable wall. Arrows rained down from the sky, like the call of death.

The members of the Red Flower Society were prepared. The Chang brothers' iron chains coiled like long snakes, knocking down arrows one after another, like rocks standing firm in a storm. Chen Jialuo came to his senses and threw a punch at the vermilion carriage.

Shi Feiyang slowly pushed Su Dai away, and his skin glowed with a crystalline luster as he circulated the Mingyu Gong.

He looked at Chen Jialuo and sneered, "You've come at the perfect time." He thrust out his palms with a "Mountain Splitting" technique, and wherever the palm wind passed, dozens of Red Flower Society disciples were sent flying backward, spitting blood, like fallen leaves swept up by a gale.

Chen Jialuo met the attack with a punch, the Hundred Flowers Fist clashing with the Hundred Victories Saber Technique. The resulting shockwave carved a trench over ten feet deep into the ground, shaking the area like an earthquake. Wei Nianhua unleashed his Parting Hook, "Hook Locking Heaven and Earth," aiming straight for Luo Bing's throat. Luo Bing spun around to dodge, her flying knife streaking across the sky like a shooting star.

Wei Nianhua let out a strange laugh, and the hook tip suddenly sprang out barbs, tugging hard at the knife chain that wrapped around her, like a fisherman catching his prey.

At the critical moment, Yu Yutong used his golden flute to block the attack, the flute's sound transforming into an invisible wall of energy. However, Wei Nianhua's internal force caused his hands to go numb, as if struck by lightning. Dark clouds loomed overhead, and the air of Tongbai Mountain seemed to be permeated with the stench of blood.

Zhao Banshan clutched the wound under his ribs, the bone-piercing nails in the deerskin pouch gleaming coldly in the downpour.

Bai Zhen's eagle eyes widened, his iron claws still holding the half-torn piece of his clothes from earlier. He grinned like a night owl: "Thousand-Handed Tathagata? I think you should be called a handless cripple today!" Before he finished speaking, his iron claws tore through the rain, and the shriek they produced was louder than thunder, like the roar of death.

Zhao Banshan leaped backward, his toes barely touching the ground, and twenty-four bone-piercing nails shot out in the shape of the Big Dipper.

Bai Zhen howled and swung his iron claws, each strike carrying the power to split mountains and shatter rocks, knocking all the hidden weapons away. Amidst the flying debris, his iron claws were already close to Zhao Banshan's throat, the stench of rotting flesh assaulting the senses like the breath of death.

You Ning's Golden Crow Blade unleashed a crimson light, like a setting sun falling from the sky. "You old bastard, take this 'Melting Gold Under the Blazing Sun' move!" She lightly touched the treetops with her toes, her blade cleaving through the rain, the air crackling wherever it passed.

Master Wuchen's white hair flew wildly as he wielded his sword with his one arm, executing the "Soul-Chasing Sword Technique" move "Soul-Severing Cloud Ridge," aiming directly at her wrist. The two weapons clashed, sparks flying onto their blood-stained clothes.

Suddenly, a cold light shot out from the side, like a bolt of lightning ripping through the quiet night sky!

Zhang Zhaozhong stepped on the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) positions, and the long sword in his hand transformed into seven sword flowers, which was the Wudang School's ultimate skill, "Seven Stars Chasing the Moon".

The soft palm followed closely behind, its power subtle and unpredictable, creating an invisible net of energy around Daoist Wuchen.

The old Taoist priest swung his sword repeatedly with one arm, the sword shadows as agile as swimming dragons, but he felt his breath gradually becoming disordered—fighting two against one, even though he had roamed the martial world for decades, he felt an unprecedented strain at this moment.

"You traitors of the Red Flower Society, prepare to die!" Heshen's furious roar suddenly rang out on the battlefield, like a bolt from the blue.

The young and handsome guard's deerskin money pouch was still dangling at his waist, and his crescent-shaped scimitar had already drawn a chilling arc of light.

The sword technique seemed ordinary, but it contained profound truths about the universe. Wherever the sword light touched, the air was distorted and deformed, as if even space itself was being torn apart.

Twenty-one Red Flower Society disciples swung their swords to parry, only to see the curved blade swirl in the air, instantly shredding their weapons to pieces, their heads flying off in the process. Faced with this sudden attack, the Red Flower Society warriors seemed helpless.

"What... what kind of evil sword technique is this!" Zhang Jin swung his copper staff and smashed it down, but the curved blade, like a nimble snake, bypassed the staff's momentum and went straight for his face.

He was startled and hurriedly retreated, but it was too late.

Heshen's lips curled into a cold smile: "Telling you won't hurt—when the Divine Blade is unleashed, even gods and ghosts tremble!" The blade's light surged, condensing into a blood-red full moon in the air. That full moon seemed to carry an invisible pressure, inspiring fear in all who beheld it.

Zhang Jin's pupils constricted sharply. He raised his staff to block, but with a "crack," the bronze staff shattered into pieces. He was sent flying by the blade's energy, crashing into the rocks and spitting blood. Luo Bing wielded her pair of mandarin duck swords with impenetrable speed, attempting to rescue Zhao Banshan, but against this immense power, her efforts seemed insignificant.

Seeing this, Bai Zhen suddenly turned his iron claws, aiming straight for Luo Bing's back: "Little lady, play with grandpa for a bit!" At the critical moment, Yu Yutong blocked with her golden flute, the flute's sound transforming into an invisible wall of energy. Bai Zhen chuckled and changed his move, his iron claws grazing Yu Yutong's cheeks, leaving three deep, bone-revealing bloody gashes.

You Ning's Golden Crow Blade had forced Daoist Wuchen to the edge of a cliff. The old Daoist swung his sword with one arm for the last time, but was entangled by Zhang Zhaozhong's longsword.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, You Ning swept the back of her blade horizontally, slamming it heavily onto his shoulder. Daoist Wuchen screamed in agony, hastily using his Dragon Step technique to fly dozens of feet away before crashing to the ground, screaming in agony once more.

Heshen's crescent-shaped scimitar slashed from the side, and Chen Jialuo parried with his sword, only to feel his tiger's mouth crack from the impact.

The strange power contained in the scimitar flowed through the blade, causing his blood to surge.

"Chief Chen, your Hundred Flowers Misaligned Fist is nothing special!" Heshen laughed, and the blade flashed again, circling towards his throat like a ghost.

Despite his injuries, Zhao Banshan used the bone-piercing nail to target He Kun's vital points, giving Chen Jialuo a chance to escape.

The rain grew heavier, and blood mixed with rainwater, winding into a river on the mountain road.

The Red Flower Society suffered heavy casualties, and the tragic scene of its second defeat was too painful to bear.

Shi Feiyang sat back in the vermilion carriage. Su Dai, cradled in his arms, watched the brutal slaughter, her face ashen, her heart filled with fear and unease. Trembling, she clutched the man's sleeve: "Your Majesty... must you kill them all?"

Shi Feiyang gently stroked her long hair, a ruthless glint in his eyes: "If I don't eliminate the threat at its root, how can I secure this empire?"

As night fell on Tongbai Mountain, the sounds of fighting gradually subsided.

Amidst the corpses scattered on the ground, a tattered black flag with a gold dragon fluttered in the wind.

Heshen wiped the blood from his crescent-shaped scimitar, watching the Red Flower Society members flee in disarray in the distance. A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips—this bloody battle was nothing more than a stepping stone for his rise through the ranks of the court. (End of Chapter)