Chapter Eight: The Fierce Battle at the Inn

Yang Qionghua pointed her sword at the Celestial Wolf, her willow-like brows standing upright, her apricot-shaped eyes wide open, and she shouted sternly: "Who on earth are you? Why are you in the territory of the Celestial Wolf? What exactly do you intend to do?"

However, judging from the few techniques he just displayed, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and the explosive energy he emanated, he can only be considered above himself, at least ranking among the top ten masters in the world today

Tianlang threw back his head and laughed heartily, causing a cloud of dust to fall from the beams above. After finishing his laughter, he looked at Yang Qionghua, whose eyes were filled with a hint of doubt. In an instant, Tianlang's gaze became sharp as a sword: "Even if I am not Tianlang, Miss Yang, do you think I lack the ability to resolve your troubles?"

The stack of silver notes was only half a foot away from the woman in the yellow dress when it suddenly paused in mid-air and then fell to the ground with a "bang," scattering everywhere. At that moment, the woman in the yellow dress, who had been on high alert, found herself at a loss, standing there in a daze. However, she quickly regained her composure, bent down, picked up all the scattered silver notes, counted them once, and then contentedly placed them back into the treasure pouch at her waist

After Tianlang finished speaking, he casually threw the dagger towards the pillar on the right. The dagger flew past like a shooting star, straight to the hilt.

With a crisp sound of "ding," purple light and blue light intersected, and two figures swiftly came together and then separated. Yang Qionghua stood firm with her sword, half of the peacock feather on her head broken, and the veil on her face had vanished without a trace, revealing her unparalleled beauty. On her fair, oval face were a delicate nose and beautiful lips, with starry eyes; however, her gaze was scattered and devoid of spirit. Her heaving chest rose and fell violently, and her face was filled with expressions of surprise and suspicion

A beautiful silhouette suddenly flashed through the heart of the Wolf, causing a sharp pain. He took a deep breath and rushed towards the towering shadow of the sword. Unbeknownst to him, a tungsten dagger less than half a foot long had appeared in his hand. In the blink of an eye, his figure vanished, yet the dagger, like the Qing Shuang sword, conjured a myriad of purple sword shadows, soaring upwards against the edge of the Qing Shuang sword.

The celestial wolf stood proudly with arms crossed, positioned a yard away from her, his right hand gripping the tungsten dagger he had just used, which bore over ten small nicks along its blade. A hint of regret flashed in his eyes as he sighed: "What a pity for this fine dagger from the book; the Qing Shuang sword truly remains as sharp as it was in its prime"

In this way, half an hour passed, and after more than three hundred exchanges, the blue sword shadow had shortened by three inches, while the purple sword shadow was gradually increasing. The yellow figure appeared more frequently within the sword shadow's light, with each appearance lasting longer. However, the figure in black had not appeared even once. Yang Qionghua's delicate shouts grew softer, while her breathing became increasingly heavy.

Yang Qionghua, intelligent and quick-witted, immediately reacted upon hearing Tianlang's words. Her sword remained pointed at Tianlang as she took half a step back, maintaining a distance of about one zhang from him. The veil covering her face fluttered slightly as her crimson lips parted: "So you admit that you are Tianlang?"

Yang Qionghua had encountered countless masters in the martial world, yet she had never seen a foe as mysterious and terrifying as the one before her, the Celestial Wolf. Other masters, regardless of their righteousness or wickedness, mostly exuded a palpable aura, while the person in front of her was elusive, their presence fluctuating between existence and absence.

Yang Qionghua bit her silver teeth and confidently declared: "Then it depends on whether you have the ability to do this!"

Tianlang nodded and said: "If I were not Tianlang, how could I possibly be here?"

The woman in the yellow shirt is named Yang Qionghua, the cherished daughter of Governor Yang Bo of Xuanda. She was sent to Emei to learn the arts from a young age, and her exceptional talent is rarely matched among the Emei disciples over the past several decades. Later, due to a twist of fate, she left Emei and joined the Hengshan Sect, a branch of the Huashan Sect. Since then, she has mastered the unique skills of both Emei and Huashan, and the Qing Shuang Sword in her hand has slain countless masters of evil sects in the martial world, instilling fear in the hearts of petty villains.

Shaken by the force of the dagger striking the pillar, the sound of "crackling" was incessant. It turned out that the tables and chairs in the inn had been sliced by the sword energy during the fierce battle between the two men, now splintered and scattered all over the ground, with broken legs and remnants of tables everywhere. In the corner, dozens of jars of July Fire were smashed to pieces, and the rich, fragrant liquor flowed like jade, spilling across the floor.

Tianlang glanced at Yang Qionghua, who was unable to speak and could not straighten her back. With a swift movement, before Yang Qionghua instinctively raised her hand to block, he pinched with two fingers and drew out a banknote worth ten thousand taels of silver from her waist pouch

The woman in the yellow shirt had just been humiliated by the burly man before her, her face turning icy with anger. She had never been known for her good temper; otherwise, she would not have earned the title of "Blood Rose" in the martial world. With a sharp sound, her treasured sword was drawn, and the chilling sword aura instantly dropped the temperature in the hall below freezing point, while the dazzling colors flashing on the sword's body showcased the purity and depth of her internal energy.

Yang Qionghua curled her lips in disdain: "I am not a Tianlang either, yet I am still here. There are no words 'Tianlang' written on your face, so how would anyone know if you are just a Western product."

Tianlang let out a sound of surprise; he had long known that Yang Qionghua hailed from Emei, but he had not expected that this woman could actually learn the secret, untransmitted technique of the Emei school, the Illusory Formless Sword. Although her movement was not yet fast enough to execute the Illusory Formless Sword beyond the sixth level, reaching the point where one could only see the shadow of the sword and not the person, this single move was already sufficient to make her a formidable figure in the martial world

Tianlang stretched lazily, stood up, and walked down the stairs step by step. His eyes sparkled with brilliance as he said to Yang Qionghua in a leisurely manner: "Miss Yang, you have too many questions, and besides, you are the guest while I am the host. How can a guest come and ask so many questions at once? Logically, you should first answer me one question."

The figures of the two individuals moved swiftly like phantoms within the confined hall, their internal energies surging. Tianlang's internal energy suddenly transformed into a soft and prolonged essence, reminiscent of the internal skills practiced by pure women. The techniques employed were identical to those of Yang Qionghua, accompanied by her delicate shouts. Yet, throughout the encounter, Tianlang did not emit even a single muffled groan. As their sword shadows collided, the internal forces surged, leaving numerous sword marks on the beams and pillars of the hall.

Yang Qionghua has roamed the martial world for over ten years. Although she is now in her thirties, her appearance remains as youthful as it was a decade ago, thanks to her internal cultivation. She possesses an unparalleled beauty, and countless young talents in the martial world have fallen for her at first sight. However, Yang Qionghua has always held a special affection for the top master of the Huashan Sect, Zhan Mubai. Yet, the fact that the two have not married over the years has led to much speculation among the people in the martial world

Tianlang shook his head and sighed: "Heroine Yang, your vigilance may be a bit excessive. Since you have come to seek help, displaying such a combative attitude is not beneficial to you."

Having spoken, she moved her body, and the Qing Shuang sword in her hand conjured up sword shadows like mountains. In the blink of an eye, dozens of swords were thrust out, targeting the vital points around the body of the Tianlang. Amidst the myriad of blue sword shadows, her figure vanished without a trace.