Yang Guo: I defied death and reached the heavens in The Return of the Condor Heroes

Zhao Zhijing stood there, frozen, rain streaming down his face.

He looked at Yin Zhiping lying in a pool of blood, and at the place where he was injured.

The composed expression on his face finally crumbled, replaced by a look of fear, anger, and disbelief.

His original plan was to use leverage to control Yin Zhiping, but now Yin Zhiping's fate is unknown, and even if he is saved, he will be a cripple.

This result is beyond his control, and once it reaches Chongyang Palace, the Seven Masters of Quanzhen will surely be furious and conduct a thorough investigation.

At that time, all the things that Lu Qingdu had done—keeping watch over Yin Zhiping for days, following him to the back mountain, and standing by and watching him die without offering any help—would be brought up one by one.

His eyes flashed with rage, and he shouted a fierce curse:

"court death!"

He raised his palm and launched a fierce attack on Shi Mang.

This palm strike, unleashed in anger, carried with it all his internal energy, and the rainwater was shaken into a white mist as the palm wind passed by.

From among the branches of an ancient pine tree not far away, Yang Guo took in the entire scene.

When he saw Shi Mang's knife slash diagonally upwards, and blood gushing from Yin Zhiping's lower body, he couldn't help but clench his legs together.

He stared at Yin Zhiping lying in a pool of blood, and his lips twitched involuntarily.

He sighed inwardly: He never expected that the famous "Dragon Knight" from the original work would become a eunuch tonight.

Of course, that's assuming he survives.

Yang Guo silently added a sentence in his mind, then quickly shifted his gaze from Yin Zhiping and scanned the battlefield.

The situation on the field had completely spiraled out of control. Zhao Zhijing was attacking Shi Mang with his palm raised, while Granny Sun was being surrounded and forced to retreat. Everyone's attention was completely drawn to this chaotic battle.

Yang Guo gently pressed his finger on the tree trunk, and his body silently slid off the pine branch.

He moved swiftly, taking advantage of the rain and darkness, and approached the stone gate of the ancient tomb several feet away.

On the other side, Granny Sun was shocked to see Yin Zhiping being cleaved down with a knife, his blood staining half of the bluestone slab.

Although she despised the Quanzhen Sect, she admired Yin Zhiping's stubbornness in fighting the Four Fiends alone, his determination to never back down.

The fact that he didn't forget to call for help even in a critical moment made her have mixed feelings about the young Taoist priest.

Seeing him lying in a pool of blood, his life hanging in the balance, she felt a pang of regret for a moment.

He regretted leaving the tomb to come here to investigate, and even more so, he regretted getting involved in this conflict.

But her regret lasted only a moment before being interrupted by the murderous intent that was coming her way.

Liu Erxi's piercing darts rained down like a storm, each one aimed directly at her vital acupoints.

Chen Cunding's giant hammer roared as he pressed closer and closer, squeezing her toward the stone wall.

Hu Xizu turned and attacked her, his nine-section whip coiling around her like a venomous snake, sweeping from the most cunning angles, making it impossible for her to defend against.

The three men launched wave after wave of attacks, giving her no chance to catch her breath.

Grandma Sun tried her best to block, but due to her old age and frailty, her internal strength had long since given out.

The cane in her hand was almost knocked out of her grasp by Chen Cunding's hammer, causing her to feel a sharp pain in her hand and a crack to appear on the cane itself.

Just as she was forced back and her body tilted slightly upward, Hu Xizu's nine-section whip came flying through the air like a venomous snake.

She dodged to the side, but was a fraction too slow; the whip tip struck her right arm squarely.

The sleeve was torn on the spot, and a long bloody gash was ripped open on the withered forearm, the skin and flesh rolled up, and the blood quickly soaked through the entire sleeve.

The ebony cane flew out of his hand, spun a few times in the rain, and landed in the mud a few feet away.

Grandma Sun clutched her injured right arm, staggered backward, and her back slammed into a cold boulder.

Rainwater poured down her wrinkled face and streamed down her gray hair.

She raised her head and coldly watched the three people slowly approaching.

The dart in Liu Erxi's hand gleamed coldly in the rain, Chen Cunding's giant hammer remained in the swinging posture, and Hu Xizu's nine-section whip dragged on the ground, the tip of the whip drawing a winding water mark in the rain.

At this moment, a myriad of emotions surged within the old servant of the ancient tomb.

She hated that she had died in the same place as a Taoist priest, at the hands of the same group of enemies.

She blamed herself for insisting on leaving the tomb to investigate and for getting involved in this dispute.

Finally, she thought of the poor girl in the grave, and a wave of sorrow washed over her:

If I die, who will take care of Miss Long?

Who will cook porridge and medicine for her, patrol the back mountain, and feed the jade bees?

That child never learned to take care of himself from a young age, and now he's all alone in this desolate ancient tomb, with no one to talk to.

She closed her eyes.

Just as she closed her eyes and awaited death

A dull thud from the grinding stone axle pierced the clamor of the downpour.

The voice was deep and resonant, like a giant beast that had been sleeping for thousands of years slowly awakening.

The sound of the downpour seemed to be suppressed at that moment.

It wasn't that the rain had stopped, but rather that the sound was so heavy that it drowned out all the noise in the world.

Everyone stopped what they were doing at the sound.

Zhao Zhijing stopped his palm strike, Liu Erxi suspended his dart, Chen Cunding's giant hammer froze in mid-air, and Hu Xizu's nine-section whip stood still in the rain.

Everyone's gaze involuntarily turned in the same direction.

The stone door of the ancient tomb is slowly opening.

The gravel rolled down under the pressure of the door hinges, making a soft, crisp sound as it hit the stone slabs.

A bolt of lightning struck at that very moment.

The white light tore through the night sky, illuminating the chill seeping out from the crack in the door.

The chill spread along the ground, and raindrops fell on it, condensing into tiny ice crystals in mid-air before falling softly and hitting the puddles with a gentle "tap-tap" sound.

Then the lightning went out, and darkness returned to the world.

Just when everyone thought that the white light was just an illusion, a white shadow floated out from inside the door.

The white shadow moved slowly in the darkness, not like a person, but more like a luminous mist, silently rising from the depths of the ancient tomb.

No one moved, and no one spoke.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on that white figure.

Another bolt of lightning struck.

The moment the white light tore through the night sky, everyone finally saw it clearly.

It wasn't fog; it was a living, breathing person.

She leaped out of the door, her white clothes gleaming brightly in the lightning.

She didn't land, but took a few light steps in the air, her figure as fleeting as a swan.

Each step landed on raindrops; as my toes touched the ground, the raindrop was slightly deformed and dented downwards before bouncing back up and continuing to fall.

It was as if the dense curtain of rain was not water, but a series of transparent steps, supporting her steps.

Time seemed to stretch out at that moment.

She drew a very light and faint arc in the air and landed steadily in front of Granny Sun.

The moment her toes touched the ground, time resumed its normal flow.

The sound of rain returned to my ears, and dense raindrops pounded on the bluestone slabs, splashing up a white mist.

Lightning struck again, its pale flash illuminating her aloof and ethereal face.

The Four Fiends of Zhongnan were drawn to the white-clad figure, their eyes widening in surprise.

Chen Cunding rubbed his eyes hard, his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Shi Mang maintained the posture of holding the knife, but the tip of the knife had already drooped down.

Sweat and rain mingled on his forehead, streaming down his cheeks, and his eyes swirled with undisguised astonishment.