lligent. I say the two of you are on par with each other.”

“You are talking rubbish!” Yang Xiao scolded him.

With a faint smile Zhao Min continued, “What Mr. Zhou said makes sense. If I were Yuan Zhen, how would I carry out my conspiracy? Mmm … first, I would persuade Kong Wen Fangzhang to send out mass invitation to all heroes under the Heaven, requesting them to come to Shaolin Temple. Kong Wen Fangzhang is a devout Buddhist; a person of mercy and peace. Naturally, he did not want to be meddlesome in other people’s business; but all I need to do is mention the names of Kong Jian and Kong Xing, two Shen Seng. Kong Wen Fangzhang loves his martial brothers very much, so, he gave his permission. Furthermore, if Shaolin Temple wanted to kill Xie Daxia, the enmity with the Ming Cult would be as deep as the ocean. Based on one Sect’s power alone, Shaolin might not necessarily be able to resist Ming Cult’s full-force attack; but if Shaolin shifted the blame to the heroes from all over the world, certainly the Ming Cult could not massacre several thousand attending warriors, could it?”

Everybody nodded their heads in agreement. Zhao Min continued, “Once the great assembly is in progress, I would not show my own face; I’ll let others use Xie Daxia and the Tulong Saber as a bait to provoke the heroes and warriors to kill each other. Inevitably, The Ming Cult would have to fight countless enemies. After the battle is over, it doesn’t matter who win or lose, the Ming Cult force would be decreased by half and its power would diminish considerably.”

“Exactly,” Zhang Wuji said, “I have had the same concern, but Yifu’s kindness to me was as heavy as the mountain. He also has dozens of years of friendship with our brethrens. How can we sit down without trying to save him? Ay, we have been on this mountain only for several days, Grandfather had already died. That traitor Yuan Zhen must be clapping and cheering in his hiding place.”

Zhao Min continued, “At the end of the battle, most likely Zhang Jiaozhu will be crowned the number one martial artist; so the Shaolin monks would say, ‘Zhang Jiaozhu’s skill surpasses all the heroes. You are worthy of the honor and the accolades. Our Temple sincerely hands over Xie Daxia to Zhang Jiaozhu. Would Zhang Jiaozhu please go to the hill peak behind the Temple to welcome him?’ Thereupon everybody would climb the peak together; Zhang Jiaozhu must break the ‘Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan’. If anybody stepped forward to assist him, Yuan Zhen’s crony would say, ‘The one defeating all the warriors was Zhang Jiaozhu of the Ming Cult; it has nothing to do with anybody else. It would be better for Sire to stand on the side and watch.’ In his effort to win the title of number one martial artist in the world, even if Zhang Jiaozhu did not suffer any injury, his internal energy would be consumed I don’t know how much; by that time, how can he be the three monks’ match? In the end, not only Xie Daxia could not be rescued, he would die among the three green pines instead. Only the cold moon and the bitter wind would accompany the body of the great hero of this generation, Zhang Wuji. Tell me, isn’t my scheme wonderful?”

Listening to this point, the group of warriors’ countenances changed; they believed Zhao Min’s words were not meant to frighten anybody. Zhang Wuji’s courage and uprightness was outstanding; he would not care how much suffering and calamity he had to endure, he would definitely try to rescue Xie Xun. Even if he had to lose his life, he would never regret his decision. Yuan Zhen had accurately seen these traits on Zhang Wuji; he knew that Zhang Wuji would jump into a mountain of blades or pot of oil.

Zhao Min sighed and said, “This way, the Ming Cult’s demise is guaranteed. Yuan Zhen would carry out his evil plot further. He would poison Kong Wen, and put the blame on Kong Zhi Dashi. This scheme would be very easy to do, he would only need to fabricate false evidence, and the Shaolin monks would believe him. Consequently, his cronies would unanimously recommend him as the logical candidate to take over Fangzhang position. He, Senior, would issue a decree for the warriors to besiege the Ming Cult. Relying on numbers to achieve victory, he would annihilate the Ming Cult. At that time, the title number one martial artist in the world, I am afraid other people would be unable to take it away from him. If Tulong Saber did not appear, so be it. But if in the Jianghu the trail of this precious Saber reappeared, everybody would know that the rightful owner of this Saber would be the Shaolin Temple Abbot, Yuan Zhen Shen Seng. If the owner of the Saber was unwilling to hand this Saber away, I am afraid he would be in a precarious position!”

Although Zhao Min was speaking in a low voice, several people in the wooden shelter were intently listening to her. As she finished speaking, Zhou Dian slapped his own thigh and called out, “Exactly, exactly! What an excellent evil plan!” Unconsciously, his voice grew loud that most of the people around the field heard him. Everybody turned their eyes toward the Ming Cult’s shelter.

“What kind of excellent evil plan?” Situ Qianzhong asked, “Can you tell it to this old man?”

“Definitely not!” Zhou Dian said, “The Old Man [referring to himself] wants to sow dissension so that the heroes from all over the world would kill each other, to the point that you die, I live. If I tell you, won’t the evil plan lose its effectiveness?”

“Wonderful, wonderful!” Situ Qianzhong laughed, “But how are you going to sow dissension? Would you elaborate?”

Zhou Dian loudly said, “I am thinking of an ingenious evil plan; I would tell a lie by saying that the Old Man has the Tulong Saber in his possession. Whoever possesses the strongest martial art, the Old Man would hand over the Tulong Saber to him …”

“What a plan! What a conspiracy!” Situ Qianzhong called out, “And then what?”

Zhao Min and Zhang Wuji exchanged a glance, they both thought, “This drunkard is neither our relative nor our friend, but he is a great help to us.”

Zhou Dian loudly said, “Just think, this precious Saber is known as the ‘wulin zhi zun’; who won’t fight with his all might to get hold of it? Thereupon, the lunatic would be killed by the drunkard, the drunkard would be killed by the monk, the monk would be killed by the priest, the priest would be killed by the young lady … the killing would continue, the field would be littered with dead bodies, blood would flow like a river. Woohoo! What a pity! What an awful sight!”

As soon as the crowd of heroes heard him, they shivered in fear; thinking that although this man acted like a lunatic, his words actually made a perfect sense. Kongtong Pai’s Er Lao [second elder] Zong Weixia stood up and said, “This gentleman, Mr. Zhou, actually has a point. We are honest and upright people, we do not speak in riddles; it is unavoidable that every school and every sect has an interest in the Tulong Saber. However, I think it is not worthwhile to lose our reputation just for the sake of the Saber, or even go as far as the destruction of the entire sect. I wish everybody will not bicker over it, to honor our martial art code of brotherhood, to the point that our friendship will not be harmed regardless of victory or defeat. What do you think?”

At the Brightness Peak, Zhang Wuji had shown him kindness by healing his internal injury due to the ‘Qi Shang Quan’ [seven-injury fist] training. Afterwards, Zhang Wuji also saved him from the Wan An Temple Pagoda. This time Kongtong Pai came to Shaolin Temple with the intention of providing assistance to the Ming Cult.

Situ Qianzhong said with a laugh, “I see you are a big fellow, but you are afraid of death. If nobody spills any blood and nobody loses his life, the martial art contest will not be worth seeing.”

Kongtong Pai’s Si Lao [fourth elder], Chang Jingzhi angrily said, “To hurt a drunkard like you, I don’t need to spill your blood.”

“The drunkard is only joking,” Situ Qianzhong said, “Why should Mr. Chang the Fourth be this angry? Everybody knows Kongtong Pai’s Qi Shang Quan can kill anybody without spilling any blood. Didn’t Kong Jian Shen Seng of Shaolin Temple die under the Qi Shang Quan? How can my old bones, the drunkard surnamed Situ, be compared to Kong Jian Shen Seng?”

The crowd of heroes thought, “This drunkard is offending both the Kongtong Pai and Shaolin Pai. It’s a wonder that he can survive this long roaming in the Jianghu the way he is.”

Zong Weixia ignored his remarks and said in a loud voice, “In my opinion, each school, sect, clan or society is to nominate two of their masters. These masters will compete in martial art skill, and whoever has the highest martial art skill will have the right to handle Xie Daxia and the Tulong Saber.”

The crowd of heroes applauded loudly; they all said that this is the best proposal ever.

Zhang Wuji carefully looked at the monks behind Kong Zhi; most of them frowned, as if they were displeased with this turn of events. He knew Zhao Min’s speculation on Yuan Zhen’s evil plot was correct; he indeed wanted to provoke the crowd of heroes to kill each other.

A white faced middle-aged man with little moustache stood up; his hand waved a folding fan with golden spine, his face was rather good-looking. He said, “I believe Zong Er Xia’s [second hero Zong] proposal is very good. When we compete in martial art, although we will stop at touching the opponent, we must remember that weapons, fists and legs do not have eyes. If anybody slips, that can be considered a fate. Martial brothers and friends shall not come out to seek revenge. Otherwise, the fight will continue without conclusion.”

“That’s right,” the crowd of heroes replied, “Let it be so.”

With a shrill voice Situ Qianzhong said, “This brother, the good-looking gentleman with laughter in his speech, could you be Ouyang Xiongtai [‘xiongtai’ is yet another way of saying ‘brother’] of Hengyang prefecture in Xiang Nan [southern Hunan]?”

That man shook his folding fan twice and laughed. “I do not dare. Such a humble name,” he said, “You flattered me in one sentence and insulted with me the next.”

Situ Qianzhong said, “It seems like Ouyang Xiong and I are loners [orig. ‘gu1hun2ye3gui’ – lonely soul, wild ghost]; we do not belong to any clan, society, school or sect. I like wine, you like women. How about the two of us found the ‘jiu se pai’ [wine and sex sect, or drunkard and lecher sect]? Then our Jiuse Pai’s two masters will stand hand in hand to face the world’s masters together.”

The crowd of heroes broke out in laughter again, thinking that this Situ Qianzhong repeatedly blurting jokes, creating happy atmosphere, inciting not a few laughter around the meeting place; and thus reducing the hostility inside the hearts of many people.

Peng Yingyu informed Zhang Wuji that this white-faced man was Ouyang Muzhi, altogether, he had twelve concubines. Although his martial art was strong, very seldom did he roam around the Jianghu. He spent his days snuggling with his women, enjoying the soft and tender happiness.

Ouyang Muzhi laughed and said, “If we join hands to found a sect, I am afraid my family heritage will not be enough to buy you the wine. Ladies and Gentlemen, speaking of martial art competition, we may want to elect several venerable seniors to act as referees and arbitrators. Otherwise, you say ‘I win’, and I say ‘I win’, and thus the dispute continues.”

Situ Qianzhong laughed, “Won’t we know it if we win or we lose? Who would be as shameless as you are?”

Zong Weixia said, “Electing several arbitrators is good. Shaolin Pai is the host, naturally Kong Zhi Dashi will be one.”

Situ Qianzhong pointed his finger to Shou Bude’s sack and said, “I nominate Shandong Daxia [great hero of Shandong], Xia Zhou, Xia Lao Yingxiong.”

Shuo Bude lifted up his sack and tossed it toward Situ Qianzhong. “One arbitrator coming up!” he said with a laugh.

Situ Qianzhong put down his wine gourd and wine cup. Carrying the cloth sack, he tried to loosen up the cord tied around the sack mouth. Unexpectedly, the knot and the thread were the result of Shou Bude’s special skill; the thread was braided from golden silk and fish bladder strands. Situ Qianzhong struggled with all his might, but was unable to untie the knot. Shuo Bude laughed out loud and leaped forward. His left hand picked the sack and slung it behind his back. His right hand reached up, his ten fingers twisted and turned; then he heaved the sack to the front again. After heaving the sack back and forth, the knot on the sack mouth was loosened. Turning the sack over and shaking it, Xia Zhou rolled out the sack. Situ Qianzhong hastily reached out to unseal Xia Zhou’s acupoint.

After being kept inside the dark cloth sack for half a day and now suddenly he was let out, Xia Zhou found the bright sunlight dazzled his eyes. And then he realized that thousands pairs of eyes were looking at him. He could not bear the shame and wanted to die. Turning around, he pulled the dagger on his waist and stabbed it into the pit of his own stomach.

Situ Qianzhong quickly reached out to grab him with both hands and laughed while saying, “Victory and defeat is common within the martial art practitioners. Xia Dage, why is your heart so dull?”

From among the crowd, a short and plump man shouted loudly, “I am afraid the hero inside the cloth sack is not qualified to be an arbitrator. I nominate Sun Laoyezi [old master Sun] of Mount Changbai.” A middle-aged woman also said, “Zhe Dong Shuang Yi’s [pair of righteous from eastern Zhejiang] prestige shakes the Jiangnan; these two brothers are upright and selfless. They are perfect candidates for the arbitrators.” From here and there the crowd of heroes shouted names and very quick there were more than a dozen arbitrators; all were prestigious and respectable heroes of the Jianghu.

Suddenly from within the Emei Pai crowd an old nun coldly said, “What’s the use of electing arbitrators? There is no need of them from the start.” Her voice was not loud at all, but it went straight into everybody’d eardrums. Apparently her internal energy cultivation was quite deep.

Situ Qianzhong laughed. “I beg Shitai’s pardon; why don’t we need arbitrators?” he asked.

The old nun replied, “Two people fight, the victor lives, the loser dies. Let Yanwu Ye [the ruler of the netherworld] be the arbitrator.”

Listening to these cold and cruel words, everybody felt chill creeping up their backs.

Situ Qianzhong said, “We are friends in the martial art world, we also do not have any grudges or enmity against each other; why should we fight a live and death battle against each other? Those who left their homes should practice mercy. By saying those words, isn’t Shitai afraid of Buddha’s rebuke?”

The old nun coldly replied, “You can talk nonsense in front of other people, but you should watch your manners in front of Emei Pai disciples.”

Situ Qianzhong raised his wine gourd and poured a cup. ‘Tsk, tsk, tsk! What a fierce Emei Pai!” he said, “There is a saying that a good man would not fight a woman, good drunkard would not fight a nun!” Raising his hand, the cup was just about to touch his lips when suddenly two ‘whiz! whiz!’ noise split the air, as two tiny objects, as small as a prayer bead, were shot. One flew toward the wine cup, the other flew toward the wine gourd. These two projectiles were immediately followed by another one, aimed at Situ Qianzhong’s chest.

‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ three loud explosions were heard successively, as the three prayer beads exploded. The gourd and the wine cup were smashed at once, while a large hole appeared on Situ Qianzhong’s chest. He was thrown several ‘zhang’s backward from the explosion, while his clothes were burning.

Xia Zhou immediately rushed forward, but Situ Qianzhong had already died, with a frozen smile on his face. Apparently, because the prayer beads were coming and exploding so fast, he did not even realize that death was at the door. It was just like a sudden thunder in a clear blue sky. There were plenty of experienced warriors with vast knowledge among the crowd, yet nobody had ever seen this kind of fast and deadly secret projectile.

“The nun is serious!” Zhou Dian called out, “What kind of secret projectile was that?”

In low voice Yang Xiao said, “I heard there is a big country in the western region where someone is perfecting technique to manufacture gunpowder into some kind of secret projectiles. It is called ‘pi li lei huo dan’ [Translator’s note: ‘pi li’ – thunderbolt, ‘lei’ is also thunder, ‘huo’ – fire, ‘dan’ bullet. Shall we call it ‘thunderbolt bullet’ for short? Actually, it was closer to modern day grenade, but the original says it was a ‘bullet’]. The gunpowder is concealed inside, and it is shot out using a powerful spring mechanism. It seems to me this old nun is using that fellow’s invention.”

Carrying Situ Qianzhong’s black burning body, Xia Zhou said in loud voice, “Although this Situ Xiongdi often said harsh and sometimes mean words, it was because he loved to fool around, his character was actually kind. He had never harmed anybody nor committed any dishonorable acts in his life. Today, the heroes from all over the world are gathered here, which one of you can say that he had done any evil conduct?”

The crowd of heroes was completely silent. Xia Zhou pointed his finger toward the old nun and angrily said, “Emei Pai has always been known as upright and chivalrous school; who would have thought that they are capable of using such an evil and ruthless secret projectile? Even the strong in the Wulin world will not overstep the ‘appropriateness’ of character. [orig. ‘li’ – reason, logic, truth] May I know Shitai’s title?”

The old nun replied, “I am called Jing Jia. The ‘hero inside the sack’, what do you want by talking and gesticulating like that?”

Xia Zhou mournfully said, “The one surnamed Xia’s skill is inadequate, thus falling miserably under the Ming Cult’s devil head’s insult. That was the surnamed Xia’s own weakness; yet I did not damage my lifelong reputation of the way of chivalry. Jing Jia Shitai, you are this vicious; aren’t you doing a great disservice to your precious sect’s founder, Guo Xiang, Gu Nuxia [heroine Guo]?”

Hearing him bring up the venerated name of their founder, the Emei disciples sprang up on their feet. Jing Jia’s eyebrows rose up. “Can a bastard like you casually mention our founder’s revered name?” she roared.

“You have disgraced your founder’s revered name by doing many unrighteous acts,” Xia Zhou retorted, “Not to mention Guo Nuxia, even Miejue Shitai, when she was alive, she was cruel and merciless but her sword had never taken innocent people’s lives. You have killed an innocent man like this and your Zhangmen [sect leader] surprisingly did not care. Hey, hey, after today, can Emei Pai take its stand in the Jianghu?”

“If you carry on talking half a sentence more of those nonsense talk, this drunkard will be your example,” Jiang Jia said.

Xia Zhou’s anger welled up in his chest, he courageously took two big strides forward and said, “If the Emei Pai Zhangmen will not clean up her own school, Emei Pai will be held in contempt by the world’s heroes from now on.”

The crowd of warriors, as well as the Emei Pai disciples, turned their gaze toward Zhou Zhiruo. They saw her nodding slowly to Jing Jia. ‘Bang! Bang!’ two loud explosions followed as Jing Jia shot out two ‘thunderbolt bullets’. Two large holes appeared on Xia Zhou’s chest and lower abdomen; his clothes were burning. But in his unyielding spirit, although his breathing had ceased, he was still standing, with his arms still around Situ Qianzhong’s body.

The crowd of heroes looked at each other in utter shock. After a moment, several hundred people raised a clamor, condemning Emei Pai’s ruthlessness. Wei Yixiao and Shuo Bude exchanged a glance, nodded at each other, and then rushed toward Xia Zhou’s remains. They knelt down in front of the corpse.

“Xia Lao Yingxiong,” Shuo Bude said, “The two of us did not know your chivalry and uprightness, and thus have offended you much. We are very ashamed of our conducts.”

They both raised their palms and then ‘slap, slap, slap, slap’ they slapped their own faces that their cheeks turned red and swollen immediately. They extinguished the fire still burning on the two corpses, and then carried the bodies into Ming Cult’s wooden shelter.

Zhang Wuji was deeply grieved seeing Zhou Zhiruo suddenly become so cruel and heartless.

Amidst the clamor of the crowd, Zhou Zhiruo was seen whispering into Song Qingshu’s ear. Song Qingshu nodded, and then in deliberate steps he walked toward the center of the field. In a loud and clear voice he said, “The heroes and warriors assembled here today, not to drink wine and discuss poetry, to play the zither, beat the drum or pluck the harp; nor do we come here to compose a poem by each one contributing a line. This is the place where we clash our weapons, our fists and feet. That being the case, most likely there will be casualties. This Xia Lao Yingxiong had just said that in all his life, Mr. Situ had never done anything evil, and blamed our Sect’s Jing Jia Shitai for indiscriminately killed an innocent. The honorable heroes raised up a clamor, seemingly discontent of our Sect. Xiongdi [brother, referring to self] wants to ask something: do we have to verify moral character and virtuosity of each other first before we contend in martial art today? A sage or a saint must never, ever be harmed; while the poor, ominous, extremely evil people can be killed at will?” The crowd was taken aback and was at a loss momentarily; they thought that what he said was not totally without any reason.

Song Qingshu continued, “If we say that only a virtuous person can own the Tulong Saber, why should we hold a ‘martial art competition’? Why don’t we all go visit the Confucius temple inside the great city of Qufu in Shandong, and respectfully present the Saber to Confucius’ descendant over there? If we are still speaking about this ‘wu’ [martial art] character, then what we concern about most is life or death, victory or defeat. I am afraid we won’t be able to deal with other people’s ‘innocence’ or ‘guilt’.”

“That’s right,” several people responded from among the crowd, “Saber and spear do not have eyes. We have agreed that we must not seek revenge.”

The more they listened to Song Qingshu, the more Yu Lianzhou and Yin Liting felt that this person’s accent was somewhat familiar. However, with the short beard, this man looked different; besides, he kept saying ‘our sect this’ and ‘our sect that’. Consequently, he must be an Emei Pai male disciple. Therefore, they could not help but feeling doubtful.

Yu Lianzhou stood up and said, “May I know Sire’s honorable surname and great given name?”

Seeing his Er Shishu [second martial (younger) uncle], Song Qingshu was rather afraid of Yu Lianzhou’s longstanding prestige; he stammered for a while before answering, “I am a nameless younger generation, not worth Yu Er Xia’s [second hero Yu] inquiry.”

In stern voice Yu Lianzhou said, “Sire did not stop talking about ‘martial art competition’. I presume your martial art study must have reached excellence. My Shifu had received great kindness from your precious sect’s Guo Nuxia in his childhood; thereupon he instructed Wudang disciples not to fight with Emei Pai. I [orig. zai4xia4] must understand clearly, whether Sire is truly Emei disciple or not. What is your name? Real men should be straightforward and upright; why would you conceal your own identity?”

Brushing away the dust from her clothes, Zhou Zhiruo said, “Yu Er Xia, I don’t have to conceal anything from you. This man is my husband; surname Song, given name Qingshu. He was related to Wudang, but this time he has entered the Emei’s school. If Yu Er Xia has anything to say, you can tell it to me.”

She spoke those words with a clear, but cold voice, as cold as a torrential river and frozen ice. Her manner and movements were as exquisite as a jade, her countenance was clear and beautiful; indeed she looked like an immortal rising from among the dust. There were thousands of heroes around the field, yet nobody made any noise, they all held their breath, trying to listen with full attention.

Song Qingshu reached up to rub his face, peeling the short beard from his chin and taking his hat off; immediately he emerged as a young man as handsome as a jade crown.

As the crowd of heroes saw him, they could not restrain from praising in their hearts, “What a beautiful pair of immortals!”

Remembering Song Qingshu’s offense in killing his Qidi [seventh (younger) brother] Mo Shenggu, anger rose up in Yu Lianzhou’s breast. However, his character had always been calm; in the last few years, the older he got, the deeper was his self-control. Although he was furious, he managed to keep a calm face; only his eyes flickered like lightning, sweeping Song Qingshu’s face.

Song Qingshu hung his head down in shame. Zhou Zhiruo said, “My husband has left Wudang and joined Emei. Hereby I am making it official today in the presence of these world’s heroes. Yu Er Xia, Zhang Zhenren does not allow Wudang disciples to fight our Sect’s disciples for the sake of friendship of the former days. It shows the Senior’s ‘yi qi’ [spirit of loyalty, code of brotherhood]; but it might also show how smart the Senior is in preserving Wudang’s prestige.”

Yin Liting could not hold his patience much longer; leaping forward, he pointed his finger toward Zhou Zhiruo and said, “Miss Zhou, when you faced calamity in your childhood, it was my Shifu who held out his hands to save you, and brought you to the Emei Pai. My Shifu has never wished for you to repay his kindness, yet in what you’ve just said today, you obviously accuse our Wudang Pai of earning false reputation, of being far inferior to the heroines of Emei Pai. This … you … aren’t you doing my Shifu wrong?”

Zhou Zhiruo laughed indifferently and said, “Wudang’s heroes have shaken the Jianghu; obviously you have real ability. Song Daxia is my father-in-law. How can I dare to accuse my in-law of earning false reputation? However, Wudang and Emei two schools have their own history, each developed its own martial art; so it is difficult to say who is superior and who is inferior. In the past, our Sect’s Guo Shizu [ancestor, founder] has shown kindness toward Zhang Zhenren, later on, Zhang Zhenren has shown kindness to me. We are even. Nobody owes anybody kindness. Yu Er Xia, Yin Liu Xia, let us hereby discard the custom that says Wudang disciples must not fight Emei disciples.”

All around the field, the crowd of warriors under their wooden shelters talked among themselves in low voices, “This young Zhangmen is very arrogant; listening to her words, it sounded as if Emei Pai has a high confidence in exceeding the Wudang Pai. Yu Er Xia has reached the pinnacle in term of internal and external power. Extremely few people in the world today can be his match. Could it be that Emei Pai relies on the fierce and evil secret projectiles to dominate the Jianghu?”

Yin Liting was very emotional thinking about Qidi Mo Shenggu’s tragic death; tears flowing down on his face and he cried out, “Qingshu … Qingshu! You … why did you kill your … your Qishu [seventh (younger) martial uncle] …” As he said the word ‘Qishu’, suddenly he broke into a loud weeping.

The crowd of heroes was surprised; they looked at each other, thinking, “Wudang’s Yin Liu Xia has such a reputation, how can he cry in public?”

Yu Lianzhou stepped forward and pulled Yin Liting’s right arm. With a loud and clear voice he said, “The world’s heroes, please hear this: Wudang is very unfortunate to have a renegade disciple like this Song Qingshu. Our Qidi, Mo Shenggu, was killed by this disciple …”

Suddenly two ‘whiz! whiz!’ noise split the air. Again, two ‘thunderbolt bullets’ flew toward Yu Lianzhou’s chest.

“Aiyo!” Zhang Wuji called out in alarm and was about to rush forward to save his uncle; but the thunderbolt bullets were simply too fast; while listening to the conversation, he had never expected Emei Pai would to launch this kind of sneak attack, even if he could move faster, he would still be too late.

This attack was actually also beyond Yu Lianzhou’s expectations; his first reaction was to evade, but the bullets would certainly hit the numerous Beggar Clan disciples standing behind him. He surmised that these bullets were meant to deal with him, to close his mouth so that he would not expose publicly Song Qingshu’s crime in offending his superior and rebelling against his own father. If he evaded, unavoidably, some innocents would be killed. In the split seconds this thought was flashing through his mind, the two thunderbolt bullets, one after another, had already arrived in front of his chest.

Yu Lianzhou turned his palms around in the ‘yun shou’ [cloudy hand] stance of the Taiji Fist. With the utmost ‘softness’, as if his palms were pressing empty air, he dissipated the incoming power with which the ‘thunderbolt bullets’ were shot, by lightly catching the bullets in the middle of his palms. He was seen standing with his arms outstretched in front of his chest, palms facing the sky, with the two thunderbolt bullets spinning with unfathomable speed in the middle of his palms. The crowd of heroes stood up at once, several thousand pairs of eyes stared at his hands. It was as if their hearts had stopped beating, extremely anxious to see whether these spinning bullets would explode at any moment.

This Taijiquan’s special skill of incorporating softness was the softest martial art skill in the world; it was called ‘a feather cannot add (to the weight), a fly cannot drop (the weight)’. The main principle was ‘sticking’ and ‘sucking’ [create a vacuum], using ‘bent’ to overcome ‘straight’, the ‘feeble geriatric to defend the crowd’, as w