Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Might of One Man

The Wudang Pure Yang Infinite Skill is the essence of Taoist cultivation, created by the founder of the Wudang Sect, Zhang Sanfeng. It is arguably the highest internal mental cultivation method of the Wudang Sect, though, regrettably, Taoism emphasizes winning through righteousness rather than through unorthodox means.

When practicing the "Pure Yang Infinite Skill," one must combine stillness with movement. Beyond long-term regulated breathing and meditation, specific finger techniques are required to seal one's own meridians and strike various acupoints across the body.

The technique is extremely rigid and Yang-oriented. At this moment, Ren Yi was focusing his mind, gathering his energy, and attempting to breach the acupoints of the twelve regular meridians. He channeled his true energy from his limbs into his Dantian, then directed it upward, where it surged like a thousand silken threads into every major and minor meridian point. Having learned of the "Fire of the Snowy Mountain," Ren Yi felt a sudden flash of inspiration; the chaotic energy within him that had previously rampaged now became remarkably docile, allowing him to calm his heart, discard distracting thoughts, and focus entirely on the singular essence. As his internal energy circulated throughout his body, it gathered once more in the Dantian, gradually breaking through the Weilü, Jiaji, and Yuzhen points.

In the pine forest, Ren Yi sat beneath a pine tree, meditating and practicing his craft. The young girl, Qu Feiyan, heard a disturbance—the sound of hooves approaching from the west. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she followed the sound. Over the period she had spent with Ren Yi, although her progress in swordsmanship had been slow, she had learned the "Carefree Wandering Art" with remarkable speed, mastering the "Cloud-Piercing Style" in just over ten days. Regulating her breath and using the light objects in the forest as leverage, she leaped into the air and sped off. Following the hoofbeats, she crossed the pine forest and suddenly emerged onto a vast, flat plain.

The open plain was crowded with many people—at least six or seven hundred, by her count. Tucked away amidst the throng stood a small pavilion. Inside sat an elderly man in white, alone, drinking wine by himself. She saw not only the white-clad elder but also Linghu Chong.

Lin Pingzhi had been in Luoyang managing his family's affairs, which had allowed Linghu Chong to cross paths with Ren Yingying. Three days ago, Linghu Chong had just met Ren Yingying and her followers at Wuba Ridge, and now he had arrived in the territory of Mount Song. Seeing the elder drinking calmly and composedly while surrounded by hundreds of enemies, Linghu Chong felt a surge of respect and began walking toward the crowd. The six or seven hundred people were staring intently at the white-clad elder, and no one noticed him.

The elder had a lean face with a long, snow-white beard hanging naturally. He gazed toward the horizon, not even glancing at the hundreds of people surrounding him.

"Grandpa Xiang, let me pour you some wine!" A voice, delicate and crisp, rang out. A figure flickered before the crowd and darted into the pavilion. She stood there, a vision of grace in her green gown, smiling like a blooming flower. Her sleeves were embroidered with tiny yellow flowers, and her large eyes were exceptionally lively.

The elder laughed heartily upon seeing her: "So it is Feifei, you little girl! How did you get here?"

Qu Feiyan replied, "I have been following my Big Brother. Grandpa Xiang, why are you here?"

The elder did not answer, instead remarking, "I had forgotten; you have been following that man these days."

Before they could speak further, a rough voice shouted from outside the pavilion: "Little girl, get out of here quickly! We are here to kill this demonic cultist for the sake of the righteous path. Be careful you don't lose your life here as well."

Another person suddenly exclaimed, "Ah... that little girl... she is the one who follows the demon Ren!"

"It... it really is her!"

The moment the name "Demon Ren" was uttered, the expressions of everyone present shifted dramatically. They began to look around nervously, their grips tightening on their weapons, their faces filled with trepidation.

Someone on the left sneered, "Is this what they call the 'righteous path'? Ha! Whatever 'Demon Ren' there is, we are here under the orders of Sect Leader Dongfang to capture the traitor Xiang Wentian. That girl appears to be the granddaughter of the traitor Qu Yang. That is even better; we shall capture her and extract the whereabouts of Qu Yang."

As it turned out, these were two opposing factions—one from the black path and one from the white—who had arrived here while hunting Xiang Wentian, forming a standoff.

Xiang Wentian said gently, "Alright, little girl, leave quickly. It has been two years; you have become much bolder."

Qu Feiyan tilted her head, thought for a moment, and whispered, "Alright, Grandpa Xiang. Feifei will go first, then. I will go find Big Brother Ren and have him come to save you."

Xiang Wentian smiled but said nothing. He noticed that the righteous sects, such as those from the Five Mountain Sword Sects, did not dare to stop the girl, and a sense of dread stirred within him. Had the name of Ren Yi truly attained such power?

As he pondered this, the Sun Moon Holy Cult faction would not have it.

"Where do you think you are going!"

Amidst the shout, over a dozen men moved to block Qu Feiyan. The righteous sect members retreated several yards, seemingly eager to distance themselves from the matter.

The young girl said with a hint of excitement, "I am not afraid of you!"

"The girl is courting death!"

In an instant, blades flashed. More than ten weapons slashed toward her simultaneously. Qu Feiyan was indeed unafraid. Ren Yi was nearby in the forest; having mastered the "Cloud-Piercing Style" of the "Carefree Wandering Art," she was confident she could reach him. Just as she was about to move, a figure arrived on the wind.

"Big Brother Ren!"

At her exclamation, everyone saw the ghostly figure. Those who had attacked suddenly felt a chilling gust of wind as the figure swept past the gaps between them, too fast for them to react. Their hands suddenly felt empty—their weapons were gone.

In the pavilion, an extra person stood beside Qu Feiyan. His long hair was like snow, his white robes like clouds, and his face was refined, yet his eyes held a deathly stillness. When those eyes swept over the crowd, everyone felt as if they were being watched by death itself, causing a chill to run through their bodies.

Ren Yi held the dozen weapons in his palms. He exerted force, and with a series of clattering sounds, the weapons were crushed and discarded at his feet.

Someone murmured in a daze, "It is him... he... he has come!"

The members of the demonic cult had never seen Ren Yi. Even with all the rumors surrounding "Demon Ren" in the martial arts world, most of them did not believe them, dismissing them as exaggerations by the righteous sects. But after witnessing him crush a dozen weapons with one hand, no one dared to underestimate him anymore.

A scrawny man from the cult stepped forward before the others who had lost their weapons and shouted, "Our Holy Cult is merely apprehending a traitor. It would be best for you to leave quickly, Excellency."

Ren Yi replied coolly, "I do not need to leave."

The man sneered, "You do not want to leave?"

Ren Yi said indifferently, "You are the ones who should leave!"

The man could not comprehend how anyone could speak such words, nor could he fathom such arrogance. A blade fell from his sleeve. As he gripped it, a flash of sword light suddenly erupted! The refined light of the blade carried a vivid crimson hue. As he tried to leap away, the sword light coiled around his neck and dissipated. Ren Yi then stood beside him, and with a flick of his blade, a few droplets of blood were shaken off.

The man remained standing beside Ren Yi, motionless, his hands hanging limp, his face frozen. It was only then that his head suddenly tumbled to the ground.

Seeing this, someone in the cult crowd shrieked, and a man lunged toward Ren Yi. The attacker wielded two meteor hammers; they were spinning violently before being thrown, and they collided mid-air, creating a formidable force. As the meteor hammer reached Ren Yi, he struck out with his sword.

The hammer was a solid, blunt weapon—wouldn't the sword tip break upon impact? Yet, the blade did not break. When the tip struck the hammer, no one knew exactly what had happened, but the blow shattered the weapon into eight pieces. The sword energy remained, the momentum unbroken, and it pierced the man's throat!

The sword was withdrawn, and the man fell. Ren Yi turned his gaze toward the dozen men who had attacked earlier. He moved with a shift of his shadow; every step he took left a lingering afterimage of sword light, and each stroke of light was accompanied by a trail of blood. One step for every man, one sword for every life. In the span of a single breath, over a dozen men had their throats slit and collapsed one after another.

In that instant, everyone witnessed true terror and recognized the nature of Ren Yi. And Ren Yi simply said, "Alright, you may crawl away now. All of you, get out!"

Having said this, he walked into the pavilion. He not only regarded the six or seven hundred people of the black and white paths as if they were invisible, but he also seemed to treat them as if they held no significance at all—as if he could drive them away as he pleased.

It was enough to infuriate anyone, yet no one dared to stay a moment longer. The righteous sect members scattered, and the cultists retreated. Ren Yi looked at Xiang Wentian: "You, too, get out!"