Chapter 158: Claw Breaks Finger, False Affection
Those involved are confused, while observers are clear.
Outside of Zhou Yan, Huang Rong was the only one who saw something peculiar.
Of course, her insight was as clear as seeing fire, thanks to knowing Yang Kang’s character and actions through Zhou Yan’s words.
When the Quanzhen Three Masters, Ke Zhen’e, and others attempted to assassinate Wanyan Honglie, Huang Rong was in a private room at Songhe Tower.
The Jin Emperor dispatched dozens of experts to reinforce, but they were immediately assassinated by masked men in black.
After the men in black succeeded, they carried the Jin Emperor’s head and fled wildly towards Songhe Tower, then disappeared into the scale-like buildings. The Jin Dynasty’s imperial family and royal entourage began to encircle the Zhao Wang Manor forces from both the front and rear.
Huang Rong thought of “luring the tiger away from its mountain” and “borrowing a knife to kill.”
She alerted Qiu Chuji and the others, and with the same intention as Zhou Yan, followed the men in black.
…
The masked men in black landed silently in the alley. He looked back; not far behind, a white figure was rapidly approaching with a swift movement. Judging by the lightness of their steps, their cultivation was quite impressive.
The Jin Emperor’s head was in a black cloth bag, hanging from the man in black’s waist. He glanced ferociously at Huang Rong, his body tensed, emitting a faint sound of bones cracking.
“Hey, what kind of hero are you?” Huang Rong landed, cautiously staying her distance and speaking from about ten feet away.
“King of Hell’s path.”
The man in the mask chuckled deeply, revealing his sinister teeth. His body sank like a dragon, and with immense momentum, after a brief pause, he shot out like an arrow from a bow.
“Swish,” lime exploded in the narrow street, then was blown back towards Huang Rong by the air current stirred by the man’s movement.
Zhou Yan, who was rapidly approaching from behind Huang Rong, was startled. Huang Rong had also learned to throw lime. It must have been from when he threw it during the battle with the Western Regions’ Vajra Sect monk Bao Neng at the Yellow River wharf in Tong Pass; Huang Rong had also taken some for self-defense afterward.
“Why am I so unlucky? Anyone I meet has extraordinary cultivation. This person is hiding their strength,” Huang Rong thought to herself. She tapped her toes lightly, her body as agile as a kite in the wind, drifting towards Zhou Yan’s direction.
With a wave of dust-filled air between them, the man in black violently broke through the floating dust curtain, his hands like sharp claws churning the clouds, descending upon Huang Rong.
Huang Rong’s face turned pale with fear.
“Duck.”
As the familiar voice came, Huang Rong didn’t hesitate. She quickly ducked, bending her arms inward and thrusting her elbows forward, charging towards the man in black’s chest like an arrow.
Behind her, Zhou Yan moved with his steps, exerting force from his spine, his claws opening and closing. Pure Internal Force surged from the five acupoints of his thumb “Shaoshang,” index finger “Shangyang,” middle finger “Zhongheng,” ring finger “Guangchong,” and little finger “Shaoze,” following the Qi Guiding Method of “Crushing Hardness Divine Claw.”
Zhou Yan’s Internal Energy radiated outward, his left and right hands interlocking as they aimed for the man in black’s ten fingers.
The man in black’s arms suddenly dropped, his muscles writhing like a giant python as he used finger techniques to dismantle and counter-grapple. In an instant, their grappling and counter-grappling unfolded. In the dust, Huang Rong collided with the man in black’s chest, feeling as if she had hit hard rock. “Ouch,” she cried, crouching on the ground.
Zhou Yan and the man in black became two figures swirling in the alley, like intertwined dragons rolling through the air before landing. Zhou Yan sensed that the opponent’s finger techniques were fierce and powerful, with energy flowing to the fingertips, capable of breaking hard stone with a single strike. The man in black was equally surprised; apart from his sect’s martial arts, he had never encountered such an invincible claw technique.
Both were shocked, yet their movements were exceptionally fierce. With a “swish,” their sleeves simultaneously tore, shattering like countless butterflies.
A tidal roar suddenly erupted from the monk’s abdomen. He transformed his fingers into palms, pushing his left palm with his right, and a strange palm wind swept out.
Zhou Yan responded with “Kanglong Regret.”
With a loud boom, wave-like force spread in a semicircle through the dust. Both figures slid out simultaneously. The man flipped into the courtyard beside them, bounced upon landing, leaped over the roof ridge, and disappeared among the blue tiles.
Zhou Yan rubbed his chest and exhaled a turbid breath.
“This person is so formidable. How are you?” Huang Rong asked.
“I know who that person is.”
“Tell me.”
“A monk from the Western Regions’ Vajra Sect, whose cultivation is above that of Monk Bao Neng whom we encountered at Tong Pass. That palm strike just now felt very familiar.”
As Zhou Yan said this, recalling their previous exchange, two martial arts that had spread from the Shaolin Temple suddenly flashed in his mind.
Great Strength Vajra Finger, Vajra Prajna Palm.
“Why are people from the Western Regions’ Vajra Sect involved in this matter?” Huang Rong asked, confused.
“I have some fragmented clues, but I need to sort them out. Shall we go to Songhe Tower first?”
“Okay.”
Huang Rong took out the Earth God mask from her pocket and put it on, then began to complain, “Throwing lime isn’t fun at all.”
“You need experience.”
“Do you use it often?”
“Not really. As my cultivation improves, I have fewer opportunities to use it.”
The two exchanged questions and answers as they quickly approached Songhe Tower.
…
The long street in front of “Songhe Tower” had long since turned into a roaring ocean of noise. The voices Huang Rong had warned about were drowned out; none of Qiu Chuji, Ke Zhen’e, or the others could hear.
Various sounds intertwined.
“Catch the assassin!”
“The Emperor has been attacked!”
Ke Zhen’e and Han Xiaoying fought shoulder to shoulder. His steel staff swung like thunder, continuously smashing through the Zhao Wang Manor guards blocking their path. Amidst the sounds of breaking bones, they forcefully pushed their way to within a few yards of the Prince’s Manor carriage.
“The Jin dog emperor has been assassinated. I don’t know which hero did it. If we kill Wanyan Honglie, that scoundrel, today, the Jin Dynasty will surely fall,” Ke Zhen’e said to Han Xiaoying.
Suddenly, a powerful steel fork thrust forward. With a “clang” of metal striking metal, sparks flew.
“Damn it, I know you!” Although Hou Tonghai couldn’t see Ke Zhen’e’s masked face, he recognized the weapon. He shouted, wielding his steel fork like a dragon, and engaged Ke Zhen’e in a fierce fight.
Han Xiaoying employed the Yue Maiden Swordplay. Sword light flashed like cold lightning. Around her body, blood splattered and spun with the sword light. For every person she killed, more Royal Residence Guards and Imperial City experts surrounded her, and she soon found herself unable to move.
Wanyan Honglie hadn’t even recovered his senses; his mind buzzed with the news of the Emperor’s assassination. Yang Kang’s voice suddenly pulled him back to reality.
“Father.”
Wanyan Honglie’s thoughts returned, and the sounds of fighting and clashing weapons rapidly amplified.
“Kang’er, come with me quickly.”
“Father, the Emperor has been attacked. You must consider the rivers and mountains of the Jin Dynasty.”
Wanyan Honglie was an exceptionally intelligent man. In an instant, he realized what the scene before him meant.
“Catch the assassin!”
Wanyan Honglie drew his waist knife and began to direct the Imperial City guards to surround and capture Qiu Chuji, Ke Zhen’e, and the others.
Yang Kang snatched a long saber from a Prince’s Manor guard and lunged at Guo Jing.
“Kang’er, come back!” Wanyan Honglie was greatly alarmed.
…
Guo Jing had already been forced to the first floor of Songhe Tower by three Imperial City experts.
A burly guard grabbed a table and threw it. Guo Jing didn’t dodge. He held his saber with both hands. As the table flew towards him, a surging saber light rose simultaneously, cleaving the table and the entire chest bones of the guard. The steel saber embedded itself within, flying out with the guard’s corpse.
Two saber lights, one from the left and one from the right, converged.
He was about to employ his empty-hand-to-weapon technique.
Suddenly, he saw Yang Kang burst in, kicking the door shut.
With a “bang” as the wooden door closed, Yang Kang’s hand moved, and his saber fell, cleaving the spine of a guard.
Yang Kang then slashed sideways, his killing intent directed at another guard’s head. The guard forcefully twisted, dodging Yang Kang’s strike. At this moment, Guo Jing executed a “forward step and lift the basket,” pushing the guard’s right hand, which held the long saber, away with his left palm, and striking the opponent’s chest with his right palm.
The guard staggered back, and Yang Kang’s saber cut him down.
“Thank you, brother.”
“Let’s go, quickly! The Emperor has been attacked, and the Imperial Palace guards will consider you accomplices. If we don’t leave now, none of us will escape.”
“Where is Wanyan Honglie?”
“If the green hills remain, there will be wood to burn.”
Yang Kang threw the long saber in his hand to Guo Jing and turned, smashing through the window and landing on the street.
Guo Jing secretly thought his sworn brother was right. He held his saber and rushed out, shouting, “Senior Master, Second Master, let’s go!”
Zhu Cong saw Yang Kang enter Songhe Tower and then smash through the window to exit, followed by Guo Jing appearing with a saber. He knew the two must have conspired. He whistled and shot out several hidden weapons, forcing back the guards in front of him.
“Go.”
Ke Zhen’e’s steel staff clashed fiercely with Hou Tonghai’s steel fork several times. Hou Tonghai retreated several yards with a “thump.” Before he could stabilize, Han Xiaoying withdrew and, with a move called “Lightning Illumination in the Sky,” a cold glint flashed, piercing towards the Three-Headed Flood Dragon’s chest.
Hou Tonghai had no time to block and rolled on the ground. As soon as he got up, Ke Zhen’e attacked with both hands, shooting six poisoned darts towards Hou Tonghai from above, middle, and below.
Hou Tonghai cried out, “Senior Brother, save me!”
Monk Lingzhi lunged forward, wielding his bronze cymbals and intercepting the “Flying Bat’s” hidden weapons.
Hou Tonghai narrowly escaped death and cursed, “Damn it, I’ll smash your head!”
“Crack.”
A tile flying through the air struck Hou Tonghai’s head.
The tile shattered, and a streak of blood emerged from the Three-Headed Flood Dragon’s flesh tumor.
Hou Tonghai felt dizzy and looked up to see two figures emerging from the roof of Songhe Tower.
One was masked, and the other was a young master in white wearing the Earth God mask.
The figures who suddenly appeared were naturally Zhou Yan and Huang Rong.
Hou Tonghai was furious and cursed, “Despicable and shameless, using tiles to scheme!”
“Three-Headed Ghost, you’re going to die.”
“Haha, so it’s you, you little thief.”
Huang Rong cursed the Three-Headed Ghost, and Hou Tonghai instantly reacted.
“Attacking from behind is hardly heroic.”
“I was never a hero,” Huang Rong said. In a flash, she threw another tile at Hou Tonghai.
The Three-Headed Flood Dragon dodged left and right, yelling.
“Damn you, come down if you dare.”
“I won’t throw, you come up.”
“I’ll come up then.”
As Hou Tonghai was about to leap onto Songhe Tower, he suddenly heard Sha Tongtian roar, “Don’t fall for it!”
“Ha, if Senior Brother hadn’t warned me, I would have fallen for it. You are cunning.”
Huang Rong was furious and cursed at Sha Tongtian, “Fake bald donkey!”
Monk Lingzhi cursed, “You’re not allowed to say bald donkey!”
“Bald donkey, bald donkey.”
With just a few words, Huang Rong enraged Hou Tonghai and Monk Lingzhi, making them jump with fury.
At this moment, Zhou Yan unleashed his “Whirlwind Sweeping Leaves Leg,” like a wild bull plowing the earth, scooping up a large amount of tiles, which scattered like a celestial maiden scattering flowers onto the long street.
This move lacked precision, but it made up for it with the sheer number of tiles.
Tiles rained down like a storm onto the long street. Amidst cries of “Ouch” and “Ah,” dozens of people, including archers, were struck by the tiles, their faces bruised and swollen.
Ma Yu, Ke Zhen’e, and others took the opportunity to escape, retreating towards an alley on the side of the long street.
“You dare!”
Ni Mo Xing roared, swinging his snake staff to protect his head, and leaped towards Zhou Yan.
At this moment, a burly figure emerged from the first floor of Songhe Tower. With a single stride, he reached Ni Mo Xing, who had just leaped up. He threw a simple, extremely effective punch, angled upwards from below.
Ni Mo Xing was greatly alarmed. He guided his energy to protect his abdomen.
“Boom!”
Ni Mo Xing felt as if he had been struck by a hammer. His insides churned, and with a “wow,” he spat out a mouthful of blood, flying back several yards and crashing into the chaotic crowd.
