Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 1095: Mutual Destruction

“Look carefully….it’s him! That face, that beard. I couldn’t be mistaken.” One of the Mount Song disciples answered with certainty.

“But Wu Tiande hadn’t left the temple at all, so how is he now entering from outside?” Ding Mian, the Pagoda-Bearing Palm, asked with a puzzled frown. As Zuo Lengchan’s martial brother, he was by nature cautious and meticulous.

Having confirmed Wu Tiande’s whereabouts, Zuo Lengchan’s face lit with excitement. When he heard his martial brother’s confusion, he dismissed it with a wave: “Wu Tiande has mastered the Evil Exterminating Sword Manual….his Qinggong must be extraordinary. Our disciples posted outside the temple may simply have failed to notice him slipping away. What matters is that we’ve confirmed he’s inside. Pass my order: at the second watch, prepare to strike!”

Ding Mian’s expression turned worried. “Why not wait for Wu Tiande to come out again before we close the net? Yuqing Temple has the backing of Mount Wudang, after all.”

“Based on the disciple’s report just now, Wu Tiande moves like a phantom….setting an ambush in the open would be no easy task. But now, while he rests inside Yuqing Temple with his guard down, the moment is perfect.” Seeing his martial brother about to protest further, Zuo Lengchan waved him off. “I’ve heard that Li Kexiu is on close terms with the people of Yuqing Temple. If we drag this out and he gets wind of it, that will be the real trouble. We must be swift and decisive….capture Wu Tiande, then leave Yangzhou before dawn!”

Ding Mian understood that the longer they lingered in Yangzhou, the more dangerous it became. He had no choice but to concur with the plan, and left to arrange the night’s operation.

*****

Inside a residential house near Yuqing Temple, Lu Guanying stared at Song Qingshu with open admiration. “Young Master’s disguise earlier was truly breathtaking. To impersonate General Wu Tiande so convincingly…”

Song Qingshu replied with an easy calm: “I only glued on a ring of whiskers and borrowed Wu Tiande’s manner of dress. The night was dark besides….it was entirely expected that the Mount Song disciples would be fooled.”

He had no wish to expose the true depth of his disguise techniques, so he offered only a casual deflection. The others accepted it without question….except for Cheng Yaojia, who knew what he was capable of. She gave him a long, meaningful look and said nothing.

A few paces away, Ding’s lips curved into a slow smile. Hmph. Since we walked through that door, that Lu wife has barely glanced at her husband. Those soft, warm eyes of hers haven’t left Song Qingshu for a moment. If those two haven’t got something going on, I’ll write the character for “Ding” backwards.

Not that she was one to judge….she was a self-described femme fatale, and such things didn’t trouble her in the slightest. She simply found it amusing, and turned it over in her mind, wondering whether there was some personal advantage to be squeezed from the situation.

While Ding was still mulling it over, Su Shidan spoke up: “Young Master, why are you so certain the Mount Song people will make their move tonight?”

Song Qingshu smiled slightly. “Didn’t you yourself analyze, Master Su, that Mount Song came for the Evil Exterminating Sword Manual? And this Wu Tiande’s swordsmanship is extraordinary….they believe the Scripture is in his hands.”

“Ah, I see.” Su Shidan and the others nodded in unison.

“They say Lin Yuantu’s seventy-two stances of the Evil Exterminating Swordplay once swept the southern lands without a single defeat.” Xin Qiji’s eyes were bright with anticipation, a faint sword Qi flickering about his frame. “Tonight, we shall finally witness it firsthand.”

Ding Dian said in a low, measured tone: “I’m afraid Jiaxuan may be disappointed. The Evil Exterminating Sword Manual may not be in Wu Tiande’s possession at all.” [Translator’s Note: Jiaxuan….稼轩….is Xin Qiji’s literary name, used here as a term of address.]

Su Shidan agreed: “Precisely. Not long ago, heroes from every corner gathered in Fuzhou, all chasing that Scripture, and I followed the matter closely. Based on the intelligence, every faction came away empty-handed. Either the Scripture doesn’t exist at all, or someone got there ahead of them. Judging by Wu Tiande’s movements, the odds of him having it are quite low.”

Ding Busan chuckled….that signature heh-heh of his: “Oh, the Evil Exterminating Sword Manual certainly exists. My master witnessed Lin Yuantu strike with his own eyes. We just don’t know whose hands it ended up in.”

“Your master saw it in person?” The others leaned in at once. Ding Busan, thoroughly pleased with himself, lifted his pipe and proceeded to recount the Evil Exterminating Swordplay in glittering, near-mythical terms. As the others marveled, speculation flew about where the Scripture might be today.

Lu Guanying cast a furtive glance at Song Qingshu, and found on his face only the faintest, most composed smile….he neither joined the discussion nor offered a word. Lu Guanying’s heart quietly eased. A divine manual like the Evil Exterminating Sword Scripture….how could I bear to share that with anyone?

“The Mount Song people are here,” Song Qingshu said suddenly.

Everyone stiffened. They pressed to the windows and peered out. In the darkness, a swarm of warriors clad in black night-garments poured over the outer wall of Yuqing Temple like a tide of ants. Moments later, muffled grunts and strangled cries began to drift out.

“Mount Song’s strength is truly formidable,” Su Shidan murmured after watching for a moment, unable to suppress his admiration. “No wonder they’ve driven the other four sects of the Five Sacred Mountain Alliance to their knees.”

“We wait until they and the Mongols have bled each other dry. Then we go in to collect what remains.” Song Qingshu’s plan met with unanimous agreement….not a single dissenting voice.

Ding Busan and Ding Busi were killers to the marrow; the more bodies inside the better, as far as they were concerned.

Su Shidan, serving as Han [Dingxiao]’s most trusted strategist, was hardly a man of gentle conscience.

As for Ding Dian and Xin Qiji….upright as they were….Mount Song had in recent years cultivated ties with the vilest figures of the unorthodox sects, stirring havoc across the jianghu. If retribution found them tonight, it was only what they deserved.

Yuqing Temple stood apart from the city to begin with, and neither the Mount Song disciples nor the Mongols wished to draw attention to themselves….both sides had guilty consciences, and both fought with deliberate restraint on the noise. So the battle raged furiously within while Yangzhou’s residents slept on, undisturbed.

After roughly half an hour, Song Qingshu noticed that the sounds of commotion inside Yuqing Temple were beginning to thin. “Let’s go have a look,” he said.

Because of the clash, the Mongol sentries on the outer perimeter had been pulled away, and Mount Song’s men posted outside had been hurriedly called in as the battle grew desperate.

Song Qingshu’s group slipped quietly into Yuqing Temple and found the front courtyard strewn with bodies….Mount Song disciples and Ruyang Palace’s Tibetan monks alike. The ferocity of what had transpired here needed no words.

The sounds of fighting still carried faintly from the rear courtyard. Song Qingshu waved the others forward: “Wait for my signal before you move. Strike only when I call it.” Both Ruyang Palace and Mount Song counted genuine masters among their number….only when the two sides had thoroughly spent each other could his group minimize their own losses.

They pressed themselves against the courtyard wall and peered into the rear. Few combatants remained standing; nearly everyone still on their feet was locked in one-on-one exchanges.

Song Qingshu’s eyes moved carefully across the scene. 

Zuo Lengchan and the Xuanming Elder Lu Zhangke were locked in fierce combat. Black and White Impermanence….were trading blows with the Xuanming Elders. The Bald Eagle Sha Tianjiang, Qinghai Yixiao, and several of Zuo Lengchan’s martial brothers were entangled with the remaining Tibetan monks under Wang Baobao’s command.

Both Daoist Hundred-Harm and Zuo Lengchan were grandmasters of yin-cold martial arts….the Xuanming Divine Palm against Zuo Lengchan’s Frost True Qi. It was a true meeting of equals; the two men traded exchanges without either gaining the upper hand, the contest perfectly balanced.

Song Qingshu found this odd. He had crossed swords with both men. Zuo Lengchan, though a supreme practitioner in the jianghu, should have stood a step below Daoist Hundred-Harm….so why were they fighting to a standstill?

He studied the fight more carefully and soon found his answer: Daoist Hundred-Harm was fighting with an injury. No doubt he had taken damage earlier when Mount Song pressed with superior numbers. The Ruyang Palace fighters were elite to a man, but outnumbered, they had each paid some price.

Song Qingshu noticed that many of the Mount Song corpses in the outer courtyard had died with arrows in them….the work of the Divine Arrow Eight Heroes. He had witnessed their skill firsthand. Each of the eight was a masterful archer, loosing arrows in overlapping chains until the volleys of eight men rang like ten thousand.

In a melee, arrows truly are the most effective weapon, he reflected privately. But then his eyes sharpened….he spotted the bodies of the Divine Arrow Eight Heroes not far off. Mount Song had paid dearly to bring those men down.

The Xuanming Elders against Black and White Impermanence was likewise a balanced contest. The Xuanming Elders wielded their Xuanming Divine Palm with lethal precision, but the Black and White Impermanence’s One Finger Zen gave no ground; the Elders excelled at combined fighting techniques, yet Black and White Impermanence had trained together for decades, their instincts interlocked, their joint assault methods a match for any paired attack. The Xuanming Elders carried crane-beak twin brushes and a short deer-antler staff; Black and White Impermanence fought with acupoint prongs and the judge’s pens. The four of them spun about each other in a dizzying carousel of weapons.

Song Qingshu judged they would not settle things in fewer than several hundred exchanges, and turned his attention elsewhere. The Bald Eagle Sha Tianjiang, Qinghai Yixiao, and Zuo Lengchan’s martial brothers had the remaining Tibetan monks surrounded and clearly held the upper hand….yet the monks had locked themselves together back-to-back, and their formation was tying the Mount Song fighters in knots, preventing any of them from breaking free.

Song Qingshu had faced those monks before, under the guise of Tang Kuo Bian, and knew they possessed a particular method of combined internal energy….pooling their strength into a single unified force. No wonder Mount Song, despite their advantage in numbers, could not press the kill.

Where is the master of the Vajra Sect? Song Qingshu’s thoughts shifted to the other supreme fighter of Ruyang Palace. His gaze swept the courtyard until he found the man….facing a stolid, expressionless young man.

“Shi Potian?”

Song Qingshu recognized the youth at once. He had seen him at the Golden Serpent Assembly. Last time, Shi Potian’s internal energy had been immense, but his techniques and combat experience had been severely lacking. Yet now, watching him move….both in fist and in sword….the progress was remarkable.

It seems Zuo Lengchan truly invested considerable effort in him, Song Qingshu thought, nodding inwardly.

But however rapid Shi Potian’s growth, the master of the Vajra Sect was a veteran of decades….in experience, in cultivation, in the sheer fortification of his Indestructible Vajra Body, the young man could not yet compare. The Sect Master’s Great Vajra Finger jabbed at Shi Potian repeatedly, each strike drawing yelps of pain, and Shi Potian was visibly hard-pressed.

Yet the Vajra Sect master’s heart was quietly unsettled: This boy has extraordinary internal energy. My Great Vajra Finger strikes him….and not only does it fail to punch through, the rebounding force jolts my own fingers with a dull ache.

Shi Potian’s cries of pain quickly caught Ding’s attention. The moment she made out his face, she lit up with startled delight: “Brother Tian!”

Then she spotted the monk attacking Shi Potian relentlessly. She let out a sharp, imperious cry and leapt straight down: “Don’t you dare hurt my Brother Tian!”

Ding Busan’s jaw dropped. He lunged to grab his granddaughter and caught only air. With his years of experience, he could see plainly that the monk’s martial arts far surpassed Ding’s own….terrified she would be hurt, he charged after her without thinking.

Ding Busi let out a strange yelp: “Old Third, I’m coming to help!” And he too plunged into the fray.

Song Qingshu’s brow furrowed sharply. He hadn’t expected this unexpected turn of events. 

Both the Mount Song Sect and the Ruyang Prince’s Palace were already bloodthirsty, and if they had simply sat back and watched, they would have been killed in a short time. But now that they had discovered his group, why would they continue fighting?