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

In late spring, the summit of Mount Tai is gently enveloped by a soft afterglow, like a painting carefully arranged by nature.

In the mountains, tender green leaves sway gently in the breeze, like a group of girls in emerald green dresses dancing joyfully.

In the distance, clouds and mist swirl around the overlapping mountains, creating a scene resembling a fairyland that is truly breathtaking.

At this moment, a red sun slowly sank in the west, dyeing the sky a brilliant orange-red.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating every corner of the mountaintop and draping the ancient temples and verdant pines in a golden cloak.

Strolling atop the mountain, the stone steps beneath your feet have been polished smooth as jade by the passage of time, each step echoing the echoes of history.

The occasional clear birdsong added to the atmosphere, bringing a sense of life and vitality.

Chen Jialuo stared at the mess on the ground, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists. Daoist Wuchen leaned on his sword with one arm, the tip still dripping blood: "That Huo Qingtong! To actually travel hand in hand with the Tartar emperor!" His voice was like thunder, startling crows into flight through the woods.

Chang Hezhi's Black Sand Palm shook the mountain rocks, sending them crashing down: "We should have been wary of her back in Xinjiang! The Red Flower Society has actually raised a traitor!"

Luo Bing's hand gripping the Mandarin Duck Swords trembled slightly: "Chief Chen, are we just going to let that dog emperor bully Sister Qing Tong?"

Before the words were finished, hurried footsteps echoed along the mountain path. A disciple in red stumbled and rushed forward, blood seeping from an arrow wound in his shoulder, staining his clothes crimson: "Report...report to the Grand Master! Fourth Master Wen...has been taken to Hangzhou! There are spies along the way..."

Before he could finish speaking, blood suddenly gushed from his throat, and three bone-piercing nails were embedded in his back.

Chen Jialuo rushed forward and embraced his disciple, who was clutching half a piece of broken jade in his hand, with the character "Hang" engraved on it. Zhao Banshan squatted down and picked up some cinnabar powder from the ground with his fingertips: "This is our Red Flower Society's unique 'Thousand-Mile Soul-Chasing Sand,' a mark left by one of our brothers who risked their lives."

He looked at Chen Jialuo with piercing eyes: "Chief, the Hangzhou Governor's Office is heavily guarded; it looks like it's going to be a tough battle."

The sunlight gently falls on the lush forest, each ray of light like a brush from nature, outlining the delicate textures and layers of the leaves.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soft, melodious sound that echoed through the tranquil valley.

A clear stream meanders through the woods, its surface shimmering like countless sparkling gems. Wildflowers along the stream sway in the breeze, releasing a sweet fragrance that soothes the soul.

The distant mountain peaks stand majestically, shrouded in clouds and mist, resembling a fairyland.

At the foot of the mountain, verdant fields stretch to the horizon, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds, creating a beautiful picture.

Chen Jialuo stood leaning against the railing, fanning himself with a folding fan, when suddenly a small boat glided by. A young man in white at the bow lightly touched the water's surface with his fan, the four characters "江山入画" (Jiangshan Ruhua, meaning "Landscape Enters the Painting") written on it with vigorous strokes. The young man looked up and smiled, and Chen Jialuo's heart skipped a beat—this man's appearance bore an uncanny resemblance to his own! Could it be Hongli in disguise again?

"Brother, what a refined taste you have." The white-robed young man leaped onto the painted boat, lightly tapping the railing with his folding fan. "I am Dongfang Er. I have long heard that the talented scholars of Jiangnan are skilled in couplets. May I ask if you would be so kind as to enlighten me?" A sly glint flashed in his eyes, but Chen Jialuo had already gripped the long sword at his waist.

Suddenly, the sound of fighting came from the stern of the ship. It turned out that Xu Tianhong and Wei Chunhua were being attacked by more than ten masked men.

Just as Chen Jialuo was about to rush to his aid, Dongfang Er suddenly opened his folding fan, a cold light flashing between the fan ribs: "Chief Chen, are you leaving already?"

With a flick of his wrist, three silver threads shot through the air. Chen Jialuo unleashed the Hundred Flowers Misaligned Fist, his movements erratic and seemingly chaotic, yet he shattered all the silver threads. Dongfang Er laughed loudly, "What a fine Hundred Flowers Misaligned Fist! It's just a pity..."

Before he finished speaking, dozens of Kongming lanterns suddenly lit up around the painted boat. Chen Jialuo looked up and saw torches hanging like an inverted Milky Way on the shore, and the lantern bearing the inscription "Governor of Hangzhou" fluttering in the wind.

Dongfang Er clapped his hands and laughed, the sound waves generated by Mingyu Gong causing ripples on the lake: "To tell you the truth, Wen Tailai is in the governor's office dungeon. Let's see if the Red Flower Society has the ability to get him!"

At midnight, the sound of a night watchman's drum came from the corner tower of the governor's office.

Chen Jialuo and Zhao Banshan swept across the rooftops like ghosts, only to find that eighteen palace lanterns in the courtyard illuminated the night as bright as day.

Just as Zhao Banshan was about to unleash the Flying Swallow Silver Shuttle hidden in his sleeve, he suddenly felt a suction force, and the hidden weapon flew back!

Shi Feiyang, dressed in a dragon robe, slowly stepped out, his body radiating a burst of jade-colored light: "Chen Jialuo, how have you been?"

Suddenly, Master Wuchen's deadly sword pierced from the side: "You dog emperor! Give me back my brother's life!"

Shi Feiyang unleashed a powerful palm strike, "Splitting Mountains," the resulting shockwave carving a deep trench half a zhang deep into the ground. Zhao Banshan countered with Tai Chi, using softness to overcome hardness and deflect the palm force. Chen Jialuo seized the opportunity to unleash the Hundred Flowers Fist, its movements flowing like clouds and water, striking directly at Shi Feiyang's face.

Shi Feiyang neither dodged nor avoided, but used the "Transferring Flowers and Jade" divine skill with his left hand, and Chen Jialuo's fist strangely turned towards Master Wuchen.

At the critical moment, the Chang brothers unleashed their Black Sand Palms simultaneously, their dark palm force carrying sand and gravel hurtling towards them.

A vortex of suction force emanated from Shi Feiyang's body, pulling the palm strike off course and redirecting it towards Xu Tianhong and Luo Bing.

"Watch out!" Luo Bing wielded her Mandarin Duck Blades in a flurry of white light, but the impact of Heshen's Crescent Moon Blade left her hands numb.

Seeing the situation was not good, Chen Jialuo shouted, "Form the formation!" The members of the Red Flower Society immediately formed the "Ambush Formation from Ten Sides," with Daoist Wuchen in the center, Zhao Banshan and Xu Tianhong on the left and right, and the Chang brothers, Wei Chunhua and others forming the outer perimeter, trapping Shi Feiyang in the formation.

Shi Feiyang laughed loudly, his skin almost transparent as he fully activated the Mingyu Gong: "You think you can take me?"

He unleashed the "Breaking Heaven and Earth" technique of the Hundred Victories Blade Technique, his palm strike carrying a devastating force that caused artificial mountains to crumble and trees to snap in its wake.

Zhao Banshan's Flying Swallow Silver Shuttle and Chang Hezhi's Black Sand Palm intertwined into a net, but were shattered by Shi Feiyang's "Burning Heaven and Earth" palm wind.

In the heat of battle, screams suddenly came from the direction of the dungeon.

Chen Jialuo's heart tightened. He feinted an attack and jumped out of the battle, heading straight for the dungeon.

Shi Feiyang watched his departing figure, a cold smile curling at the corner of his lips, as the jade-colored light gradually dissipated into the night.

The sunlight gently fell upon the verdant mountains, as if gilding every inch of the land with a thin layer of golden light.

A gentle breeze stirs the leaves, causing them to rustle and dance in the air, creating a symphony of nature.

At the foot of the mountain, a crystal-clear stream flows gently, its surface shimmering like countless sparkling gems.

Wildflowers bloom in profusion along the stream, their vibrant colors and fragrant aromas attracting butterflies and bees to frolic.

In the distance, mountains embrace the landscape, shrouded in mist and clouds, creating a scene resembling a fairyland. The mountain peaks appear and disappear in the mist, like a shy maiden gently veiling her face. The mist, like flowing white gauze, drifts with the wind, adding a touch of mystery and dreamlike quality to this beautiful scene.

Chen Jialuo stood with his hands behind his back, his fingertips tracing the inscription "Serve the country with utmost loyalty" on the railing. Suddenly, he heard the "tap-tap" sound of his iron crutch hitting the ground behind him—Xu Tianhong limped up to the top of the tower, his rain boots still covered with water plants from the muddy marshes on the outskirts of the city.

"Master, please take a look." Xu Tianhong raised his hand and pushed open the binoculars. The lens reflected the dragon-patterned flag of the cargo ship in the middle of the river. "Wang Weiyang's 'Zhenyuan' is indeed hanging a plain white lantern. It seems that he knows we are going to rob this shipment."

He slammed his iron crutch heavily on the bluestone slab, startling a flock of sparrows that were taking shelter from the rain under the eaves.

As Chen Jialuo gazed at the sweltering heat rising from the river, he recalled the emerald feather that Huo Qingtong had clutched to pieces when they parted.

Previously, atop Mount Tai, the hatred in her eyes was like an icicle piercing her bones, but now it turned into cold sweat on her palms.

Master Wuchen's roar suddenly shattered the silence: "What are those traps of that scoundrel Zhang Zhaozhong! Back in the day, I stormed Shaolin with one arm, and even the Eighteen Bronze Men Formation couldn't trap me!"

With a single swing of his arm, the broken blade of his sword sliced ​​through the lantern, causing the candlelight to burst into a blue flame. At the beginning of midnight, a torrential downpour began.

Chen Jialuo, wearing a bamboo hat, stood on the corner tower of Zhengyang Gate, the raindrops from the eaves weaving a curtain of water along the brim of his hat. In the distance, the lights of the grain transport boats flickered, like will-o'-the-wisps. He touched the soft sword at his waist; the three characters "Red Flower Society" on the scabbard gleamed from the rain.

Suddenly, he heard the wind rustling behind him, and a black-sheathed sword was already pressed against his throat, the two characters "Cold Moon" on the blade soaked with water droplets.

"Chen Jialuo, if you want to save Wen Tailai, come with me." The masked man's voice was hoarse like the scraping of metal, but he couldn't hide the tremor at the end of his words.

Chen Jialuo smelled the ambergris on the other person, and his pupils shrank sharply—this was a fragrance recipe made by the imperial palace!

Before he could think further, the sound of a golden blade slicing through the wind came from the direction of the cargo ship, and Wei Chunhua's double hooks were already engaged in battle with Wang Weiyang.

"So you think you can dominate Hebei? Today I'll teach you a lesson about the true nature of the martial world!" Chang Hezhi unleashed a Black Sand Palm strike, the mud and sand swirling like a black python emerging from its lair. Wang Weiyang's golden saber spun out "Lone Smoke of the Desert," the blade's light reflecting the wrinkles on his forehead, but it hissed as it touched the sand—the black sand was actually mixed with caltrops!
Chen Jialuo was dragged into an alley by a masked man. From inside the wall came muffled groans from Wen Tailai, each sound like a heavy hammer hitting his heart.

He recalled how Wen Tailai had taken three blows from Zhang Zhaozhong to save him back in Xinjiang, but now he was trapped in this dark and hopeless dungeon.

The moment the longsword was drawn, the masked man suddenly grabbed his wrist: "There is a 'Pre-Heaven Bagua Formation' in the dark room. One wrong step and you'll be pierced by a thousand arrows."

Before the words were even finished, a bone-piercing nail pierced through the air, the vermilion ink on the nail's end still wet. The masked man groaned and fell to the ground. Chen Jialuo caught a glimpse of his mask slipping down, revealing half a face covered in wound medicine—it was none other than the Hangzhou prefect's advisor!

He realized he had fallen into a trap, and when he turned around, he saw Zhang Zhaozhong standing on the rooftop three zhang away, his Bi Ning sword twirling in an eerie display.

Inside the Governor's Mansion dungeon, Master Wuchen's Soul-Chasing Sword and Zhang Zhaozhong's Azure Condensation Sword were locked in fierce combat.

The sword light danced wildly like silver snakes, but with a clang, the Dustless Broken Sword was actually sliced ​​off by an inch.

"You old bastard!" he cursed fiercely, but inwardly he was shocked—Zhang Zhaozhong's internal strength was even deeper than it had been three months ago!

Just as Zhao Banshan was about to unleash the Flying Swallow Silver Shuttle hidden in his sleeve, he suddenly felt his feet sink into emptiness.

"Watch out for the underground fire!" Luo Bing's mandarin duck swords caught the overturned stone slab just in time, the blades reflecting the flickering flames from the ground. She stared at her husband, Wen Tailai, locked in the water dungeon, her nails digging deep into her palms: "You surnamed Yang! If you dare to harm my husband even a little..."

"Miss Luo, you'd better mind your own business!" Li Kexiu's concubine suddenly sneered, and white powder fell from the gold hairpin in her hair—it was actually a sleeping potion!
Xu Tianhong swept his iron crutch, sending the woman flying, but then felt a wave of darkness wash over him. At the critical moment, Chen Jialuo, carrying Wen Tailai, crashed through the stone door, Zhang Zhaozhong's blood still dripping from his soft sword.

"Chief!" Wen Tailai's blood flowed down Chen Jialuo's neck and into his collar, scalding hot.

He tried to raise his hand to push it away, but he didn't even have the strength to move his fingertips.

Chen Jialuo carried him tightly on his back, dodging the crossbow bolts with his toes barely touching the ground. All he could hear was Wen Tailai's increasingly weak heartbeat, urging him forward like a drumbeat. At the dungeon exit, Shi Feiyang's dragon robe fluttered in the wind, and the emerald feather in his hand trembled gently.

Chen Jialuo suddenly felt a metallic taste in his throat—it was the green feather that Huo Qingtong never parted with, but was now in the hands of his enemy.

"Hand over the jade bottle, withdraw from the Central Plains, and I will spare your lives. I'll give you three months to think it over. Otherwise, I will spare no effort to mobilize 100,000 troops to completely annihilate you, young and old alike." Shi Feiyang's voice carried the unique majesty of an emperor, yet a barely perceptible fluctuation flickered when it met Chen Jialuo's gaze. Chen Jialuo stared at the bloodstains on the emerald feather, recalling Huo Qingtong's tears atop Mount Tai.

He gripped his longsword tightly, but then heard Wen Tailai whisper in his ear, "Don't... don't worry about me..." Just as his heart was breaking, Wuchen Daoist's broken sword suddenly stabbed from the side. In the instant Shi Feiyang dodged to the side, Chen Jialuo had already carried Wen Tailai and leaped out of the encirclement.

The sunlight gently spills onto the winding path, its golden glow weaving together with the lush trees to create a captivating scene.

A gentle breeze blows, and the leaves sway softly, as if whispering ancient and mysterious stories.

Not far away, a vibrant sea of ​​flowers comes into view, with blossoms of all colors vying for attention—red as fiery, pink as the sunset, and white as snow—weaving together to create a magnificent tapestry. The fragrance of the flowers drifts on the breeze, refreshing and intoxicating, making one irresistibly drawn into its beauty.

A crystal-clear stream flows gently by, its surface shimmering with silver light, like pearls set in green silk.

Along the stream, several brightly colored butterflies fluttered gracefully, darting lightly among the flowers, adding a touch of life and vitality to this tranquil scene. Looking up into the distance, the rolling mountains stretched endlessly, shrouded in mist, resembling a fairyland.

At the foot of the mountain, several quaint little houses are nestled among the green trees, with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys, adding a touch of warmth and tranquility to this beautiful scene.

Chen Jialuo gently placed Wen Tailai on the boat. When Zhao Banshan was bandaging his wounds, he discovered that the words "Anti-Qing" were branded on his back, and gold juice was seeping from the charred flesh—it was Zhang Zhaozhong's "fire phosphorus branding".

Luo Bing turned her face away, and the mandarin duck knives carved deep marks on the boat plank.

"Chief, the jade bottle..." Xu Tianhong stepped forward, holding the blood-stained jade bottle, and suddenly noticed the palindromic inscription on the bottom of the bottle.

Chen Jialuo took the bottle, suddenly recalling Shi Feiyang's expression when he played with the jade feather. He looked at the Liuhe Pagoda, which was faintly visible in the distance, and knew that this game concerning the jade bottle, Huo Qingtong, and the secrets of the emperor had only just begun.

The river breeze lifted his blue robe, revealing half a piece of jade at his waist—a birthday gift Huo Qingtong had given him.

The notch at the edge of the jade piece fit perfectly with Shi Feiyang's jade dragon hook.

Chen Jialuo suddenly clenched the broken jade, blood seeping from between his fingers and dripping into the river, like a fleeting red plum blossom.

In the height of summer, on the banks of the Qiantang River, the blazing sun shines intensely on the shimmering water, as if every ray of light is leaping and dancing with the river.

In the distance, the Qiantang River tidal bore was quietly brewing, and on the horizon, a thin white line slowly approached, carrying an irresistible force.

As the white line continued to expand, the sound of the tide gradually roared, like a thousand horses galloping in, awe-inspiring and breathtaking.

The waves rolled and chased each other, forming spectacular peaks, as if the sea at this moment had poured all its passion and power onto the surface of the river.

When the tide finally surged before us, its overwhelming momentum seemed to swallow the entire world.

The surging river, with its magnificent momentum, swept away the summer heat, leaving only endless awe and reverence.

A crescent moon hung obliquely atop the Liuhe Pagoda. Chen Jialuo unfurled the blood-stained secret edict, the candlelight flickering on the eight characters "100,000 soldiers, young and old spared," making the faces of the crowd even more somber than the Qiantang River outside the pagoda.

Wen Tailai's bandaged hand suddenly gripped the wooden chair armrest tightly, the blood seeping from his wound dripping into the cracks of the blue bricks like red plum blossoms. "You dog emperor, you've gone too far!" Daoist Wuchen slammed his arm on the table, causing the cold tea in his teacup to spill out. "Back in the day, at the foot of Tianshan Mountain, I single-handedly took down seven Qing Dynasty outposts with just my sword. Now you're afraid of his 100,000 troops?"

The broken sword at his waist hummed, as if responding to its master's anger.

Luo Bing gently tossed the Mandarin Duck Swords up and caught them, the gleam of the blades reflecting on her pale face: "Fourth Master's injuries haven't healed yet, and we lost over ten thousand brothers during our last prison break..." Before she could finish speaking, Chang Hezhi shattered the stone bench with a single palm strike, the force of his Black Sand Palm causing the copper bells on the tower eaves to ring wildly: "What are you afraid of! At worst, we'll fight to the death and let the Tartars know how powerful the Red Flower Society is!"

Zhao Banshan stroked his silver beard, slowly turning the Flying Swallow Silver Shuttle between his fingers: "Chief, what secret is hidden in that jade bottle? Emperor Qianlong was willing to spare our lives for it, I'm afraid..." Before he could finish speaking, Xu Tianhong suddenly slammed his iron crutch down: "Third Brother Zhao, have you forgotten what Zhang Zhaozhong said? The thing in the jade bottle can take Emperor Qianlong's life!"

As Chen Jialuo stared at the crooked handwriting on the secret edict, he recalled Shi Feiyang's cold smile when he played with Huo Qingtong's emerald feathers, and his heart suddenly ached.

He remembered his adoptive father, Yu Wanting, gripping his wrist tightly with his withered fingers before his death: "Luo'er, let your imperial brother restore the Han Chinese clothing..." But now, facing the Qing court's imposing Eight Banners cavalry, those words seemed like a distant memory.

"Brothers!" Chen Jialuo suddenly stood up, his longsword drawn half an inch before slowly being sheathed again. "The Eight Banners princes hold the tiger tally, and the governors-general of all provinces are Bannermen. Even if we rise up in rebellion, it will be like throwing eggs against rocks!"

He pointed to the inky black river outside the window, "Back then, even with the million-strong army of the rebel leader, didn't..." "Shut up!" Master Wuchen's broken sword was pointed straight at Chen Jialuo's throat, "Have you forgotten the oath we swore when we joined? The four words 'Overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming' are engraved in our bones!"

The cold glint of the sword blade reflected the still-damp bloodstains at the corners of his eyes—the marks of the wounds inflicted by Zhang Zhaozhong at the Governor's Mansion.

Wen Tailai suddenly coughed violently, his handkerchief stained red as it fell onto the "Overthrow the Qing and Restore the Ming" banner: "Chief... I was saved by everyone. But if we fight head-on... I'm afraid..."

He looked at Luo Bing's clenched, white hands, and his voice gradually lowered.

As the atmosphere grew tense, Zhao Banshan suddenly pulled out a jade bottle. Under the moonlight, the palindromic inscriptions on the bottle gleamed with a ghostly blue: "Chief, this jade bottle contains the secret of Qianlong's birth. But even if it were made public, would those Manchu nobles... recognize a Han Chinese as their ruler?"

He slammed the jade bottle heavily on the table, making a metallic clang.

Chen Jialuo picked up the jade bottle, his fingertips tracing its cool patterns.

He recalled Huo Qingtong's tears atop Mount Tai, and the complex emotions in Shi Feiyang's eyes when he said, "We are of the same origin." Suddenly, the painting "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" in his adoptive father's secret room came to mind—the prosperous Bianjing depicted in the painting had ultimately become a mirage.

"Retreat to Xinjiang." Chen Jialuo's voice startled the owls in the rafters. "Take the jade bottle and go seek refuge with Miss Huo Qingtong. There, the desert stretches for thousands of miles, and the Qing cavalry..." "Impossible!" Daoist Wuchen's broken sword clattered to the ground. "I, Wuchen, have lived most of my life, and this is the first time I've heard the Red Flower Society's leader say... say escape?" He knelt on one knee, his white hair disheveled in the night wind. "If the old leader could know this in the afterlife..."

"What Elder Yu wants is nothing more than peace throughout the world!" Chen Jialuo suddenly opened his shirt, revealing the "Han" character tattooed on his chest, blood trickling down the strokes. "But this peaceful and prosperous world cannot be changed by the bloodshed of a few people!"

He grabbed the secret edict and threw it into the brazier. The flames suddenly shot up, distorting the words "annihilate" into a twisted shape.

Luo Bing suddenly burst into tears, and the Mandarin Duck Swords fell to the ground: "I only hoped to live peacefully with the Fourth Master... Is that even a wishful thought?"

Her cries mingled with the sound of the Qiantang River tide, startling the lanterns of the soldiers patrolling in the distance, causing them to sway slightly.

Xu Tianhong tapped his iron crutch lightly and unfolded a map of the Western Regions: "Miss Huo Qingtong is here to meet us in Xinjiang. We can stay in the Kunlun Mountains..." Before he could finish speaking, Chang Bozhi slammed his fist against the wall: "No way! We'd rather die in the Central Plains!"

The plaster fell in clumps, revealing the remnants of the blood-written inscription "Give Me Back My Homeland" underneath.

As Chen Jialuo watched his brothers arguing fiercely, he suddenly recalled what Yu Wanting had said when he first joined the Red Flower Society: "The greatest heroes are those who serve their country and its people." At that moment, the river surged outside the window, but he felt like a lone boat adrift in the turbulent waves of history, having lost all sense of direction.

“Three months.” He gripped the jade bottle tightly, the coolness of the bottle seeping into his palm. “Give me three months. If Emperor Qianlong is willing to spare the lives of the remaining 30,000 brothers of my Red Flower Society…” Before he could finish speaking, Daoist Wuchen had already gotten up and left, his one arm casting a long shadow in the moonlight, like a broken sword.

Outside the tower, thick, dark clouds, like a giant lead curtain, slowly swallowed the waning crescent moon, the night so oppressive it was almost suffocating. The surrounding air seemed to freeze, even the breeze hid away, leaving only a deathly silence and oppressive stillness.

The distant scenery was blurred and shrouded in a gloomy mist. Even starlight could hardly penetrate the oppressive darkness, and the whole world was pressed down by an invisible weight, making it hard to breathe.

As Chen Jialuo gazed at the ashes of the secret edict, he recalled the Western Regions star map that Huo Qingtong had taught him to identify.

Perhaps, that distant desert can truly become the final resting place for the Red Flower Society?

But when he touched the half-broken jade in his arms, a sharp pain shot through his heart—there should have been another person there with him.

For half a month, the heroes of the Red Flower Society spoke coldly to each other, but they were also slowly calming down. At this time, Red Flower Society disciples kept coming to report that the disciples of the Red Flower Society's branches in various places were being killed by the Sticky Rod Office.

More than 10,000 members of the Red Flower Society perished within half a month. Chen Jialuo decided to retire to the Tianshan Mountains, and by this time no one objected.

Driven by ambition and a desire for fame, Zhang Zhaozhong risked his life, leading a group of elite guards from the Sticky Rod Office in pursuit of the Red Flower Society.

However, Zhang Zhaozhong was lured into a wolf pit by Chen Jialuo on the grassland and torn to pieces by the wolves. The Red Flower Society retreated into the Hui region and joined forces with Huo Qingtong's tribe. Chen Jialuo, realizing that rekindling his relationship with Huo Qingtong was impossible, fell in love with Huo Qingtong's younger sister, Kalis.
In the scorching heat of July, the northern grasslands present a magnificent and pristine landscape.

The boundless green meadow is dotted with colorful wildflowers, like a beautiful tapestry spread across the sky and earth. A gentle breeze blows, and the grass sways softly, as if the earth is whispering, telling ancient and mysterious stories.

Under the blue sky and white clouds, herds of cattle and sheep graze leisurely, some grazing with their heads down, others gazing into the distance, enjoying nature's bounty. The shepherd's songs drift on the wind, blending harmoniously with the tranquility of the grassland, creating a moving picture.

In the distance, the mountains embrace the grassland, their peaks rising one after another, adding to its grandeur and magnificence.

At the foot of the mountain, a winding river, like a silver ribbon, gently meanders around the grassland, nourishing the creatures of this land.

As the sun sets, the sky gradually turns golden, and the grassland is bathed in a warm hue.

Chen Jialuo stared at the blood-stained red flower token on the chest of the disciple who had arrived on horseback, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists. For the past half month, the black banners at the Sticky Pole had swept through the Central Plains branch like a plague, and thirteen thousand seven hundred lives had now been transformed into dried blood words on the secret letter.

"Chief!" Wei Chunhua's double hooks snapped in three pieces, his armor riddled with bone-piercing nails. "The Zhili branch... has only seventeen men left!"

Before he could finish speaking, Master Wuchen suddenly swung his sword, severing the tent pole in half. Sparks flew from the broken sword in the setting sun: "We should have fought that damned emperor! Now we've retreated to this godforsaken place..."

Chen Jialuo stroked the soft longsword at his waist, recalling the tragic scene of Zhang Zhaozhong's death at Wolf Pool three days ago.

The screams of the "Fire Hand Judge" as he was dragged into the swamp by the wolves were completely different from his arrogance when he was casting the Five Elements Formation.

Before everyone could catch their breath, the sound of metal clashing suddenly came from the depths of the grassland—Mu Tie'a, the commander of the Bordered Yellow Banner cavalry, pierced the twilight with his iron sword, and the dust raised by the thousand riders behind him was like a black python pouncing.

"Well done!" Chang Hezhi unleashed his Black Sand Palm with both palms, the dark palm force carrying sand and gravel as it met the iron cavalry.

Mu Tie'a sneered, his iron sword drawing the "Lone Smoke of the Desert" pattern, and wherever the sword energy passed, the black sand was cleaved in two.

Just as Zhao Banshan was about to make his move with his Flying Swallow Silver Shuttle, he suddenly felt a strong wind coming from above – the Nine Gates Admiral Suhebalu's Goose Feather Blade had already slashed down with wind and thunder, the Manchu incantations engraved on the back of the blade glowing with a ghostly blue light.

"Watch out!" Xu Tianhong swept his iron crutch, using the ingenious move of "Iron Claw Li's Gourd," but the Imperial Guard Commander Yue Shan's Overlord Spear was like a dragon emerging from the sea, and wherever the spear tassel swept, the grass and leaves were reduced to dust.

Luo Bing wielded her Mandarin Duck Blades with impenetrable speed, throwing three flying knives with a sharp cry, only to have them all caught in the palm of the chief guard Bai Zhen's Eagle Claw Kung Fu. He sneered, "A girl from the Red Flower Society dares to be so insolent before the Emperor?"

Just as Chen Jialuo was about to unleash the Hundred Flowers Fist, he suddenly heard a woman's delicate shout from his right.

The beautiful palace maid You Ning, wielding an iron knife, wielded the "Golden Crow Knife Technique," the blade flashing like the blazing sun in the sky, directly threatening Wen Tailai.

Zhao Banshan used Tai Chi Cloud Hands to try to deflect the blade's force, but then he heard Chen Feng's black gold fan, which was attached to the sticky pole, unfold. The hidden mechanism between the fan bones hummed, and nine bone-piercing nails shot towards Xu Tianhong in a plum blossom shape.

"You scoundrel!" Master Wuchen leaped up with one arm, and the Seventy-Two Soul-Chasing Life-Taking Sword transformed into a silver dragon, aiming straight for Bai Zhen's throat.

Bai Zhen's Eagle Claw Kung Fu was fierce and unparalleled. His fingertips flashed with cold light, and he actually managed to scratch five sparks off Master Wuchen's sword.

In the heat of battle, the young guard Lu Fangtian's Heavenly Gang Finger suddenly struck from the side, and the force of the finger's strike sent Zhang Jin's spiked club flying out of his hand. "Brother Shi Gandang!" Luo Bing's cry of surprise was drowned out by Heshen's maniacal laughter.

The third-class guard, wielding a crescent-shaped scimitar, unleashed the "Divine Blade Slash," cleaving Shi Shuangying's Limitless Sword Technique into pieces even before the blade arrived.

Jiang Sigen roared and brandished his iron oar, unleashing the "Qin King's Whip Stone" technique from "Lu Zhishen's Mad Demon Staff," but Suhebalu's goose-feather saber severed the oar's head, the back of the blade slamming heavily into his chest. Jiang Sigen fell backward, his chest severely deformed, and died on the spot.

Kasri's cry of alarm was like a sharp arrow, instantly piercing through the clamor of this bloody battlefield.

You Ning's cold-gleaming iron knife was already firmly held against Kasili's delicate neck. The fierce moves of the "Golden Crow Blade Technique" tore Kasili's white dress into pieces, which fluttered in the wind, just like her fragility as her life hung by a thread.

Upon seeing this, Chen Jialuo's eyes widened instantly, his pupils filled with bloodshot veins, and his anger seemed capable of burning the heavens and the earth.

The longsword in his hand was like a nimble dragon, instantly drawn from its sheath, and with an indomitable momentum, it went straight for You Ning.

This sword strike embodies his myriad worries and boundless affection for Kasli; the wind howls, and one can almost hear the sound of tearing through the air.

You Ning felt a chilling sword aura rushing towards her, and was greatly alarmed. She dared not take it head-on and hurriedly dodged to the side.

Taking advantage of the moment, Chen Jialuo moved with lightning speed, closing in instantly and pulling Kasili firmly into his arms. He held Kasili tightly, as if to build an unbreakable barrier for her with his own body, shielding her from all dangers in the world.

However, the crisis has not been resolved.

Bai Zhen, the chief of the imperial guards, was like a wolf that had been lying in wait for a long time. He seized the opportunity, turned around suddenly, and pounced on Chen Jialuo and Kasili like a ghost.

His hands were shaped like eagle claws, with his fingertips gleaming with a chilling light. The fierce power of his "Eagle Claw Kung Fu" seemed capable of tearing through steel.

He let out a strange laugh that sounded like the hooting of an owl, and shouted, "Presenting the most beautiful woman in the world to the Emperor would be a great achievement! With this merit, I, Bai Zhen, will surely rise to a higher position in the court and enjoy endless wealth and glory!"

The laughter, filled with greed and madness, echoed through this hellish scene, sending chills down one's spine.

"Shut up! You shameless lackey!" Master Wuchen appeared like a black lightning bolt, suddenly appearing from the side.

His broken sword gleamed with a cold light in the afterglow of the setting sun, just like the anger and determination that filled his heart at that moment.

This sword strike was as fast as lightning, carrying an indomitable momentum, and aimed straight at Bai Zhen's vital throat.

The expression on Master Wuchen's face was extremely ferocious, his eyes wide open, staring intently at Bai Zhen, as if he wanted to devour him alive.

As he attacked, he cursed, "For a little fame and fortune, you willingly become accomplices to evil and help the wicked! Have you ever thought about the dark and hopeless lives of the common people under your master's brutal rule? As a member of the martial arts world, you should be upholding justice and protecting the people, but instead you choose to join this corrupt court, becoming an accomplice to harming the loyal and bullying the common people! How can you face your fellow martial artists? How can you face your own conscience?"

Each word was like a bombshell, exploding loudly in Bai Zhen's ears.

Bai Zhen hastily returned to defense. Although his Eagle Claw Kung Fu was fierce and powerful, he was somewhat flustered in the face of Master Wuchen's frenzied attack filled with boundless rage.

Master Wuchen's moves were increasingly intense, and the broken sword in his hand transformed into countless sword shadows, enveloping Bai Zhen within them.

Bai Zhen was struggling to stay afloat, and his clothes had been torn in several places by the sword wind.

Master Wuchen seized the opening and unleashed a series of elusive kicks. This leg technique was unpredictable and difficult to defend against.

With a loud thud, the kick struck Bai Zhen hard in the chest.

Bai Zhen groaned, staggering backward several steps like a kite with a broken string, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.

He steadied himself, looked up at Kasili in Chen Jialuo's arms, and then caught a glimpse of the portrait on the jade bottle that lay to the side, bearing an image identical to Kasili's. In that instant, a thousand thoughts seemed to surge through his mind.

All those past actions, done to please Emperor Qianlong by any means necessary, flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

The righteous and stern rebuke from Master Wuchen just now still echoed in his ears.

A feeling of shame and regret he had never experienced before welled up in his heart.

This emotion, like a surging tide, instantly overwhelmed him. He looked at his blood-stained hands, hands that had, for the sake of fame and fortune, harmed countless innocent lives and betrayed countless codes of honor in the martial world.

Now, on this grassland, facing Master Wuchen's accusations and Kasili's pure yet fearful gaze, he suddenly felt so small and insignificant. "I... what have I done..." Bai Zhen murmured to himself, his voice filled with despair and regret.

Suddenly, he burst into a maniacal laugh, a laugh filled with endless sorrow and self-mockery.

To everyone's astonishment, he suddenly plunged his eagle claws into his own throat.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, instantly staining his chest red.

His body slowly fell, crashing heavily onto the blood-soaked grassland, raising a cloud of dust. Thus, a master swordsman ended his sinful life in shame and remorse.

However, the brutal fighting between the two sides did not stop with Bai Zhen's death.

Heshen, a cunning and ruthless third-class bodyguard who would stop at nothing to gain fame and fortune, seemed to have gone berserk at this moment.

The crescent-shaped scimitar in his hand gleamed with an eerie light in the setting sun.

The sword energy of the "Divine Blade Slash" was like a series of invisible sharp blades, running rampant in the fierce battle between the two sides.

He moved with lightning speed, his blade flashing, striking Zhang Jin and Shi Shuangying in succession. (End of Chapter)