Chapter Ninety-Six: A Duel of Masters

Zhongli Yu, accompanied by Lihun, Lilan, Liying, and Liting, traveled through the night. It was not until the evening of the third day that they reached Wangcheng; beyond this point lay the territory of Xiyuan. After two days and nights on the road, everyone was somewhat weary, so Zhongli Yu ordered a night's rest in Wangcheng.

Wangcheng had already regained its pre-war prosperity. As evening approached, the streets remained bustling; vendors continued their calls, hawking goods. Zhongli Yu did not head to the general’s mansion but went straight to a tavern to stay.

The moment Zhongli Yu stepped into the tavern, every diner in the hall fixed their gaze upon him. His striking appearance was not merely handsome but radiated a noble and refined aura that made him impossible to overlook.

“Welcome, sir. Are you here to lodge or dine?” the innkeeper greeted warmly.

Zhongli Yu replied calmly, “Both lodging and dining.”

The innkeeper noticed the four men behind him and enthusiastically said, “Young master, we have three private rooms available. Would that suffice?”

“That will do. Three private rooms it is.”

“Right this way, young master.”

With eager hospitality, the innkeeper led Zhongli Yu and his companions to the third floor’s private rooms. Zhongli Yu took one room, while the others paired off.

Zhongli Yu placed a silver ingot in the innkeeper’s hand and said lightly, “Have hot water prepared for us, and deliver the meals to each room.”

Grasping the heavy silver, the innkeeper beamed, “Young master, please wait a moment. We will prepare everything immediately.”

The tavern’s service was efficient. Before long, the hot water was ready. After Zhongli Yu bathed, the meals arrived just in time. Pleased with the attentive service, he felt the weariness that had settled over him begin to dissipate after a hot bath and a hearty meal.

Lying quietly on the bed, Zhongli Yu’s thoughts turned to his wife. Even as a grown man, after two continuous days and nights of travel, he felt exhausted. He recalled how Zhan Yan tirelessly hastened to Wangcheng, day and night, to deliver the great return elixir for him. How hard that must have been for her. A faint ache tinged with sweetness stirred in his heart. He realized how deeply he was ensnared by his feelings; after only two days apart, he already missed her terribly. Quietly, he resolved to finish his mission swiftly and return.

Perhaps from exhaustion, Zhongli Yu soon fell into a deep sleep. The next day, they resumed their journey. According to Feng Lin’s description, the destination was about a hundred li from the capital. Starting early, reaching it would take roughly a day and a half.

When they arrived at the valley, it was as Feng Lin had described—virtually uninhabited, save for hundreds or thousands of chickens pecking around bamboo huts. The valley was eerily quiet. The owner of the bamboo house noticed their arrival immediately.

Clad in a deep blue robe, the man sat silently, awaiting Zhongli Yu’s approach.

Looking at the somewhat dilapidated bamboo house, Zhongli Yu spoke in a deep voice, “Is anyone inside? I am Zhongli Yu. May I ask if the elder would come out to meet me?”

The man’s eyebrows twitched upon hearing the name Zhongli Yu. He rose calmly and stepped outside.

Zhongli Yu observed the man, who appeared to be around forty years old. His footsteps were nearly silent—indicating formidable martial skill.

“Zhongli Yu? The Pure King of Dongling?” The man glanced up, momentarily startled by Zhongli Yu’s imposing presence. He had not expected such striking handsomeness.

“That is indeed I, your humble king. May I know your name, elder?”

“I am Zhou Lan, a mere nobody, unworthy of the Pure King’s visit,” Zhou Lan replied indifferently.

Zhongli Yu was surprised but then spoke slowly, “I have heard that the tenth-generation leader of the Thousand Poisons Sect is named Zhou Lan. Since the previous leader, Zhou Xiang, passed away forty years ago, the sect has not appeared in the martial world. It seems you have been hiding here in this remote wilderness, practicing alchemy. Truly astonishing.”

Zhou Lan’s heart skipped a beat. The Thousand Poisons Sect was shrouded in mystery; almost no one in the martial world knew its whereabouts, let alone the leader’s name. That Zhongli Yu knew his identity and even the previous leader’s name impressed him deeply.

Zhou Lan chuckled. “The Pure King is indeed extraordinary. You even know the name of my predecessor. When he died, you were not yet born. How did you learn of this?”

Zhongli Yu was unwilling to waste words and said directly, “How I know is none of your concern. I am here today to ask you to hand over the antidote that can reverse the poisoning.”

Zhou Lan sneered, “Why should I give it to you?”

“You have concocted such a vile poison, harming countless innocent lives. What is your intention?” Zhongli Yu asked sternly.

“I only create medicines for those who need them. As for how they use them, I never interfere.” Zhou Lan’s voice was calm. His life revolved around martial arts, alchemy, and the lingering thoughts of a certain woman.

“Do you not realize that your poison could plunge this world into chaos?” Zhongli Yu said gravely.

“If it descends into chaos, what concern is that of mine?” Zhou Lan replied coldly.

Seeing Zhou Lan’s indifferent attitude, Zhongli Yu’s heart darkened. “What will it take for you to hand over the antidote?”

Zhou Lan smiled faintly. “To be honest, there is no true antidote to this poison. The remedy I concoct requires monthly doses; otherwise, the poisoned will surely die.”

“It is said the Thousand Poisons Sect does not involve itself in martial world conflicts. Why now? Do you have some scheme?” Zhongli Yu asked coolly.

“What conflicts? They have nothing to do with me. I act only on her orders. If she tells me to create the poison, I do. If she commands me to die, I will do so without hesitation.” Zhou Lan spoke indifferently.

Zhongli Yu, hearing Zhou Lan’s repeated references to ‘her,’ was curious. “Who is this person who commands you so utterly?”

“That is none of your concern. There is no antidote. Please leave. I have no wish to fight today.” Zhou Lan waved dismissively and turned toward the house.

“Wait. Even if there’s no antidote, you must come with me.” Zhongli Yu would not leave empty-handed. Since Zhou Lan could craft the poison, he must know how to make its cure.

“Do you think you can command me?” Zhou Lan looked at Zhongli Yu disdainfully, his anger rising. He detested intrusions upon his peace—except from his junior sister.

“Then let’s see about that,” Zhongli Yu said, launching the first move. His goal was to bring Zhou Lan back alive.

Zhou Lan was startled by Zhongli Yu’s graceful yet chilling strike. The attack carried a frigid sharpness that forced him to respond immediately. He countered with equal swiftness, no longer underestimating his opponent.

In an instant, the two were locked in a fierce struggle, their movements a blur. Lihun and the others watched in awe—it was their first time seeing their master spar. The pair’s swift maneuvers, from ground to midair, appeared like two swirling mists—one pale blue, the other deep navy—sometimes intertwining, sometimes parting. The clash of weapons rang softly yet powerfully, shaking the heart.

They fought from noon until sunset without pause. Lihun and the others grew anxious; after such a prolonged contest without a clear victor, they wondered if their master could prevail. Their nerves were taut, eyes fixed on the duel.

Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed through the valley, scattering the chickens. The two mists vanished, and Zhongli Yu landed on the ground, his hair slightly disheveled. Zhou Lan’s mouth trickled blood—he had sustained internal injuries.

Lihun and company hurried to Zhongli Yu’s side. “Master, are you alright?” Though it seemed Zhongli Yu had won, they remained concerned.

Zhongli Yu shook his head lightly. “No harm.” Then he looked at Zhou Lan. “Elder Zhou, will you come with me now?”

Zhou Lan glanced at Zhongli Yu and said gravely, “The victor claims the throne, and the defeated are bandits. I accept this fate. But even if you take me, I possess no antidote.”

Zhongli Yu frowned. “Then I must trouble you to come along. I believe you will find a way to create the antidote.”

Zhou Lan snorted and fell silent.

“Take him with us,” Zhongli Yu ordered calmly.

Lihun and Lilan quickly hoisted Zhou Lan, and the group departed the valley.

Though night was falling, they pressed onward. Having captured Zhou Lan, they hurried back. After traveling several dozen li, darkness enveloped the quiet path they walked. They avoided the main road; escorting a prisoner there would attract too much attention, and the small path was shorter.

Though night had fallen, their keen vision and martial prowess allowed them to see clearly. Their steps did not slow.

Zhou Lan walked unhurriedly, almost dragged along by Lihun and Lilan, who barely restrained him. His internal injuries left him unable to resist.

Dense woods flanked the road. The chill of late autumn rustled dry leaves, creating a soft, constant whisper. Yet Zhongli Yu sensed something amiss.

He abruptly stopped and fixed Zhou Lan with a steady gaze. “You are quite cunning, elder. This terrain is complicated, making escape easier. You placed many in ambush here. Did you truly believe you could get away?”

Zhou Lan was about to issue orders but paused at Zhongli Yu’s words. He had underestimated this young man’s perceptiveness amid such noise. “Since you have seen through my plan, I need not conceal it. The forces here are elite Thousand Poisons Sect warriors. I never intended to let you live,” Zhou Lan said arrogantly.

Zhongli Yu glanced at him indifferently. “Oh? Then I look forward to seeing how that plays out.”

Zhou Lan’s face flushed with rage. The sect leader had never been so openly dismissed. He pointed at Zhongli Yu’s group and snarled, “Come out, all of you! I want your lives!”

At his command, countless black-clad warriors emerged from the forest, each fierce and battle-hardened. On the battlefield, they could take on hundreds. Their eyes glared at Zhongli Yu, ready to strike at any moment. Zhongli Yu roughly counted nearly a thousand—clearly, fanatical death warriors. Zhou Lan had spared no expense; he was determined not to be taken alive.

Lihun and the others were shocked by Zhou Lan’s backup. Yet Zhongli Yu appeared unperturbed. Whether from confidence or arrogance, he faced such overwhelming odds with calm.

Soon, Zhongli Yu produced a signal flare from his bosom. A plume of red smoke rose swiftly into the sky. Zhou Lan’s men tried to halt it, but it was too late.

Sensing danger, Zhou Lan ordered an attack. The black-clad warriors surged forward, aiming to eliminate Zhongli Yu’s group. Their strikes were lethal, targeting vital points.

Fortunately, Lihun and the others were Zhongli Yu’s personal guards—each a formidable martial artist. The death warriors could not wound them easily.

The battle raged for nearly half an hour. Lihun’s group grew weary; these were not ordinary foes but killers wielding deadly techniques. Surrounded by over two hundred enemies cycling their assaults, exhaustion set in.

Seeing Zhongli Yu’s party encircled, Zhou Lan ignored his grievous injuries and fled toward the woods. Zhongli Yu, alert during the fight, noticed the escape and hastened to break through the encirclement. Employing his lightness skill, he pursued Zhou Lan.

Zhou Lan was unprepared for Zhongli Yu’s escape and pursuit. Panic rose; he realized escape was impossible now. His only hope was that his warriors could finish the fight.

In moments, Zhongli Yu caught up and struck several acupoints, forcing Zhou Lan to collapse by the roadside. Then Zhongli Yu rejoined the fray.

For Zhongli Yu, hundreds of death warriors posed no serious threat, but seeing Lihun and the others near collapse troubled him. He longed to aid them but was swarmed again. Just as he prepared to break free once more, reinforcements arrived.

The hidden guards of the Serenity Pavilion appeared—over a thousand skilled fighters whom Zhongli Yu had arranged to follow discreetly. They had been hiding in a nearby town and rushed upon receiving his signal.

With their arrival, Lihun and the others exhaled in relief and withdrew from combat, standing aside to monitor Zhou Lan, wary of any escape attempt should his acupoints be released.

Zhou Lan, seeing the overwhelming reinforcements, closed his eyes in defeat. He had believed his ambush would annihilate Zhongli Yu’s group, but the sudden arrival of the Serenity Pavilion’s hidden guards, whose martial skills rivaled even the Thousand Poisons death warriors, dashed his hopes.

The battle lasted nearly another hour. All the Thousand Poisons warriors fell; over half of the Serenity Pavilion’s hidden guards were lost. Zhongli Yu, witnessing the heavy casualties among his carefully trained men, felt a pang of sorrow. All this because of Zhou Lan and his poisonous concoctions. Resentment burned in his heart.

Zhongli Yu’s voice was hoarse as he ordered, “Bury our comrades here.”

He gazed at the fallen Serenity Pavilion guards sprawled in pools of blood. These were men he had painstakingly trained over the years. Losing hundreds in a single battle was a heavy blow. Though he had seen war before, he hated it. Every life was precious. Yet for the peace of the realm, sacrifices were inevitable. He sighed in silent resignation.

“Yes, young lord,” the hidden guards replied respectfully. Even in death, their loyalty to their master remained unshaken.

Zhongli Yu cast a resentful glance at Zhou Lan, then struck his mute acupoint again. “Lihun, carry him along. Since he refuses to cooperate, we need not be polite. I want to see if we can produce the antidote without him. If not, then he will serve as a companion to the poisoned.”

“Yes, young lord.”

Zhou Lan’s anger boiled silently. He had never been so humiliated. Watching his thousand warriors buried in this secluded mountain path, regret mingled with fury. All his years of training had ended in ruin, and he was now a captive.

Lihun and the others mourned silently for the fallen Serenity Pavilion guards. These were men their master had nurtured with great care. Losing them would surely pain him deeply.

Along the quiet mountain path, the hidden guards solemnly buried their comrades. The heavy scent of blood hung in the air, mingling with the cold autumn wind that seemed to mourn these warriors.

Zhongli Yu watched them diligently finish the graves. Only after the last was covered did he cast a long, meaningful glance at the group, then turned with heavy steps and departed.