Chapter 182: The Young Prince of Zhongdu, The Tea Flower Girl of Dali
Fisherman, young lady, woman.
Just as Zhou Yan said when he first met Li Mochou, “Monks, Taoist nuns, and beggars” are three types of people who cannot be provoked.
The fisherman heard the young lady and the woman’s conversation clearly.
Zhou Yan, however, clearly heard the angry roar of the fisherman whose hair was standing on end.
He felt the voice was very familiar, and when the fishing rod suddenly swung out, the bluebird of memory flew back.
The Yanbo Diaosou who was looking for trouble with Liu Qingzhou in Hengshan City.
Liu Qingzhou said that the other party had a strange temper, and it was indeed so. If it were an ordinary Jianghu person, a few harmless words would not cause such great anger.
In a flash of lightning, the woman drew her sword and stabbed. With a “clang,” sparks flew in all directions, the fishhook swung away, and entangled the longsword in the air with a rapid spin.
It was unknown what the fishing line was made of, but the longsword was difficult to cut. The white rod instantly tightened like a drawn bow, and with a “whoosh,” the woman’s longsword flew out of her hand. Her body was unstable, and she was about to fall into the river.
“Mother,” the young lady quickly grabbed the woman.
As the Yanbo Diaosou swung the rod, the fishhook suddenly swung over, hooking the woman’s five-colored waistband, which was as wide as a palm.
“Come here.”
At this moment, Zhou Yan’s figure flew like a swallow over the misty waves and landed behind the fishing boat of the Diaosou.
His feet landed firmly with the Thousand Jin Drop, and one end of the light boat suddenly swung up.
The Yanbo Diaosou let out a strange cry, abandoned the young lady, and his hands trembled rapidly. The fishhook connected to the fishing line was as agile and free as a snake, and it shot out from the young lady’s waistband with a “swish,” swinging in an arc in the air towards Zhou Yan.
Without turning his body, he could hear the sound of the wind. This unique skill was truly superb.
Back then in Hengyang City, as night fell, across the long street, Zhou Yan did not see the fishhook and fishing line clearly. Now, as the morning light broke, and the distance was only a few feet, he could see it clearly.
The fishing line was as fine as silk, almost transparent, and the fishhook was silver-colored, gleaming with a cold light.
Zhou Yan slanted his longsword and struck. A move from the Quanzhen Swordplay, “Dingyang Needle,” landed precisely on the fishhook.
With a “clang,” sparks of fire splashed on the sword’s edge and were extinguished by the wind and rain. The Yanbo Diaosou suddenly turned around and looked at Zhou Yan.
In Hengyang City, Zhou Yan was in the dark, and the Yanbo Diaosou was in the light. He repelled the enemy with three consecutive arrows, and the opponent did not see his face. Now, he did not recognize Zhou Yan, who was wearing a conical hat.
“Your swordplay is good,” the Yanbo Diaosou said, narrowing his eyes.
Zhou Yan retracted the Qingfeng Sword in his hand. Its clear light flowed, and the sword tip pointed to the ground. “Elder, we can talk if there’s something to discuss.”
“It’s only worth talking about if you can beat me. If you can’t, who will listen to your nonsense?” The Yanbo Diaosou rolled his eyes, let out a strange laugh, and his hands trembled rapidly. The white wax fishing rod suddenly became like a strange snake that could transform at any time, straightening and coiling, twisting and turning, sometimes soaring, sometimes snapping straight. A storm of attacks fell upon Zhou Yan.
“In the Jianghu, one is not in control of oneself.” This sentence revealed some of the true meaning of survival in the Jianghu. The Jianghu is not necessarily a place for reason. More often, it is about strength. Conquering others with virtue is not as effective as conquering them with martial arts.
Zhou Yan sighed. The Qingfeng Sword slashed through the rain curtain. The raindrops in front of the sword tip formed a straight line, and the splashing water light landed on the Yanbo Diaosou before the longsword. The Quanzhen Swordplay moves “Peach Blossoms,” “Gathering Ten Thousand Falling Thousands,” “Sparse Shadows of Apricot Blossoms,” “Geese Arrive and Letters Are Written,” and “Cold Mist and Withered Grass” were connected, and the sword intent continuously fell upon the Yanbo Diaosou.
The Qingfeng Sword was imbued with a cold, flame-like radiance. The sword light reflected each other between the illusory and the real, shooting out, flowing, and bouncing in all directions. The air was filled with the continuous clanging sound of fishhooks and sword edges colliding.
The young lady, the woman, and Huang Rong and Liang Xiaowu, who came out of the room upon hearing the noise, could not see the fishhook. A green, shimmering halo rotated around Zhou Yan within their sight. Clusters of sparks were like scattered fishing lights, exploding and then disappearing.
Although it was a life-and-death struggle, it was dazzling and enchanting.
Huang Rong recognized the Yanbo Diaosou. His martial arts were superior to Liu Qingzhou’s, but he was not necessarily Zhou Yan’s opponent. With herself and Liang Xiaowu, it was an undefeated situation no matter what.
She stood at the bow of the boat, completely unconcerned about Zhou Yan. Her gaze fell on the young lady and the woman on the other side, who were holding swords and watching the battle nervously. After her gaze lingered on the young lady’s face for a moment, she secretly praised, “What a charming young lady. However, judging by her clothing, she doesn’t seem to be from the Central Plains. I wonder about her origins.”
Zhou Yan and the Yanbo Diaosou had already fought dozens of moves. He gradually understood the routines of the white wax fishing rod. His swordplay suddenly changed. In the “One Qi Transforms into Three Purities” swordplay, he incorporated the “Jade Maiden Swordplay” that he had comprehended after watching Li Mochou cultivate.
With this change in sword style, Zhou Yan’s movements were truly elegant and graceful, with a divine spirit, possessing the elegant demeanor of the Jin Dynasty’s Wuyi disciples. Contrasted with the ferocity of the Yanbo Diaosou, he appeared even more graceful and refined, handsome and beautiful.
The young lady exclaimed and said to the woman, “Mother, I never thought there was such exquisite swordplay in this world.”
“Now you know there are always people better than you and mountains beyond mountains. Will you study martial arts properly?”
“Yes, I understand.” The young lady replied crisply, her gaze falling back on Zhou Yan and the Yanbo Diaosou.
At this moment, a burst of cold, ice-green light exploded from in front of Zhou Yan like a ball of light. Seven sword lights, indistinguishable in speed, shot out like uneven flames towards the Yanbo Diaosou.
The Yanbo Diaosou’s hair stood on end. This sword light flashed, seeming to be more numerous and faster than the Hengshan Sect’s “Returning Wind and Falling Geese Sword.” He felt that he could not possibly withstand seven swords attacking simultaneously. The Yanbo Diaosou hardened his heart, and with a flash of white light, the white wax fishing rod suddenly shot towards Zhou Yan like a stream of light, using a spear style.
Zhou Yan let out a “ha.”
Abandoning the long for the short, wanting to gain an inch of advantage with an inch of length, but how familiar he was with spear techniques.
Zhou Yan used the Quanzhen Swordplay move “Hu Shuang Qian Li.” The Qingfeng Sword in the fine rain seemed to have swung out streaks of fan-shaped flowing light, like ink splashed on a great river. In an instant, he broke the Yanbo Diaosou’s advantage of “an inch of length for an inch of strength.” With his left hand, he used Sanshou to seize and capture the white wax rod, and his body advanced rapidly. His right hand thrust straight forward from the sword’s middle.
“I surrender.”
Just as Zhou Yan was about to retract his sword, the Yanbo Diaosou suddenly shouted and rolled into the Yuan River.
“Elder, I have offended you.”
The Yanbo Diaosou surfaced and said, “Give me back my fishing rod.”
Zhou Yan threw it over.
The Yanbo Diaosou caught the white wax rod and said, “Where do you live? I lost this round today, but I will come back to challenge you another day.”
Zhou Yan originally wanted to say that endless revenge would never end, but thinking of the other party’s eccentric temper, such a person, if completely subdued, would also be convinced.
Thinking this, he said, “Zhongdu, Tonggu Square.”
Zhou Yan reported his residence, not mentioning the Fu’an Escort Agency.
“In a year’s time, I will definitely come to Zhongdu.” The Yanbo Diaosou finished speaking and looked at the young lady and the middle-aged woman. “Who is the Fishermen Hermit?”
Seeing that the Yanbo Diaosou was relentless, the woman hesitated. Although the immediate danger was resolved, if the other party followed them all the way, they would be unable to cope. She said after a slight pause, “A disciple of Master Yideng.”
The Yanbo Diaosou was stunned and suddenly submerged into the river, leaving like a white line like streaks of light.
Zhou Yan’s shock still surpassed that of the Yanbo Diaosou.
A disciple of Master Yideng, from the Dali lineage?
Thinking this, he suddenly saw the young lady bow gracefully. “Junior He Yuanjun thanks Senior for saving my life. May I ask Senior’s esteemed name?”
He Yuanjun’s voice was clear and pleasant, but to Zhou Yan, it was like thunder.
Li Mochou’s love rival.
He Yuanjun of Dali. She is the adopted daughter of Wu Santong, and that woman is Wu Santong’s wife.
Thinking this, a flash of inspiration struck him.
Master Yideng was currently living in seclusion within the vicinity of Iron Palm Mountain. The “Fishermen Hermit” that the Yanbo Diaosou asked about was “Diancang Fishermen Hermit,” one of Master Yideng’s four great disciples.
Mrs. Wu and He Yuanjun were traveling from Dali to visit Wu Santong at Master Yideng’s residence.
Before he could withdraw his thoughts, he heard Huang Rong say, “Seeing injustice on the road and drawing a sword to help is nothing to mention.”
Mrs. Wu had more Jianghu experience than He Yuanjun. Judging by the sound, she guessed that Zhou Yan was not old. She asked the boatman to row over and pleaded, “A drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring, let alone saving a life. Young hero, please leave your name.”
The misty waves, the wind and rain, the escort wearing a conical hat cupped his hands and said, “I dare not claim to be a hero. I am Zhou Yan.”
“So it is Young Hero Zhou. Thank you for your assistance.”
“The danger has passed, and the Yanbo Diaosou will likely not cause any more trouble. We shall part ways here.” Zhou Yan did not mind being called a young hero. He turned his body and, like a flying goose, lightly landed on the large boat.
“Boatman, set sail,” Liang Xiaowu said.
The large boat sailed downstream and passed the small boat. He Yuanjun said, “Thank you, young hero.”
“You’re welcome.”
As the two boats separated, He Yuanjun said to Mrs. Wu, “So the young hero is a handsome young man.”
Mrs. Wu smiled. “You saw him?”
“The young hero’s boat is higher than ours, so we could see clearly. Mother, how do you think Young Brother Zhou learned such excellent swordplay?”
“Go and ask him.” Mrs. Wu, perhaps due to the joy of surviving a great calamity and the anticipation of seeing Wu Santong, said teasingly.
However, He Yuanjun thought to herself, the young man is in Zhongdu’s Tongluo Square, so she could find him if she went there.
People of the Jianghu, born in Dali, with bright personalities and passionate emotions. He Yuanjun was eager to try.
…
Zhou Yan returned to his room, thinking that his trip to Iron Palm Mountain had indeed encountered many Jianghu figures from “Legend of the Condor Heroes” and “Divine Condor.”
Xiaoxiangzi, Ren Chuzi, and the soon-to-visit Hundred Herbs Immortal were within reason, but Mrs. Wu and He Yuanjun were truly unexpected.
He was naturally curious as to why Lu Zhan Yuan had been so irresponsible.
Having met He Yuanjun, compared to her personality, Li Mochou was reserved, while the latter was passionate. It was no wonder that it led to the tragedy of “What is love in this world?”
One died for love, devoted to each other; the other harbored hatred and became the Red Practicing Fairy.
Zhou Yan sighed, regained his consciousness, cut his arm with his sword, took another bowl of fresh blood to Huang Rong and Mei Chaofeng’s room, poured it into their mouths, and returned to his room to regulate his breath.
Around noon, the large boat arrived within the territory of Tung Phoenix Mountain.
They disembarked, Liang Xiaowu hired a horse carriage, Huang Rong abandoned her horse and got into the carriage, and they headed straight for Hundred Herbs Valley.
