Tang Xuan Makes His Entrance

Just as Tang Xuan had predicted, Zhu Ziliu unleashed his ultimate technique, surpassing Huo Du and dominating the match. Originally, Zhu Ziliu fused the extraordinary “Single Yang Finger” technique with calligraphy, using his brush as a substitute for his finger. Every stroke of his martial calligraphy was imbued with vitality and grace, the brush dancing through the air with profound skill. Though Huo Du had never witnessed such martial arts before, he was at least versed in calligraphy. He had studied the classics and poetry under Han scholars, and could often anticipate Zhu Ziliu’s next stroke after seeing the previous one, which allowed him to hold his own.

But suddenly, Zhu Ziliu switched to cursive script. He whipped off his scholar’s cap and flung it to the ground, his long sleeves fluttering as he darted madly about, his moves breaking free from all established patterns. He appeared wild and possessed, as if in a trance or bewitched, his brushwork flowing uninhibited like a serpent or dragon. With this, Zhu Ziliu’s mastery of the cursive script not only sharpened his technique, but also threw Huo Du into utter confusion—no longer could he predict the next move.

Huo Du’s defeat became apparent. In the blink of an eye, after a dozen more exchanges, Zhu Ziliu’s dark brush traced straight across Huo Du’s robe. Victory was decided! Had Zhu Ziliu not shown mercy, the moment his brush grazed Huo Du’s robe, he could have unleashed the full force of the Single Yang Finger and seriously injured his opponent. Even so, as his brush swept over Huo Du’s garment, he used a subtle variation of the Single Yang Finger to strike Huo Du’s acupoint, leaving him paralyzed. The spectators were all left in awe at this display of martial calligraphy.

Tang Xuan thought to himself, “This is at least a fifth or sixth-tier ultimate technique.” Yet the Single Yang Finger itself was already ranked among such techniques, its power formidable. Zhu Ziliu’s innovation had refined but not elevated its rank.

“My thanks for the match!” Zhu Ziliu smiled lightly, withdrawing his weapon. He was confident that the way he sealed Huo Du’s acupoints was entirely different from the usual, making it difficult for others to undo. He stepped forward, pressed several points on Huo Du’s body, and used his internal energy to release the seal.

But as soon as Huo Du was freed, a murderous intent flashed across his face. He pressed a hidden switch on his fan’s handle, and four poisoned darts shot out from the ribs of the fan, all striking Zhu Ziliu! Just as Tang Xuan had foreseen, Huo Du launched a surprise attack with a concealed weapon, turning the tables even with such despicable means.

Though Tang Xuan had known in advance, he gave no warning.

“Aaaah!” Zhu Ziliu cried out in agony. The sudden change shocked everyone present.

In martial duels among masters, once victory is decided, further action is forbidden—this is the code of the martial world. Moreover, Zhu Ziliu was in the midst of kindly unsealing Huo Du’s acupoints, and no one could have expected Huo Du to launch a sneak attack under so many watchful eyes. The four darts were coated in a deadly poison from the Mongolian snow mountains. No sooner had they struck than Zhu Ziliu was overwhelmed by searing pain and unbearable itching, collapsing to the ground and writhing in agony. Even with the internal power of the Single Yang Finger, he could not resist such lethal venom.

The assembled heroes were outraged, glaring at Huo Du and denouncing his shamelessness. Huo Du laughed loudly, “So I turned defeat into victory—what’s shameful about that? We never said at the start that concealed weapons were forbidden! If Brother Zhu had hit me with a hidden weapon first, I’d have had no choice but to accept it.”

Though many found his justification preposterous, they struggled to refute him, and curses continued to fly as the scene devolved into chaos.

Guo Jing stepped forward, lifting Zhu Ziliu and sealing several of his acupoints. He then channeled the profound internal energy of the Nine Yin Manual into Zhu Ziliu’s body, temporarily suppressing the poison. Huang Rong’s face was grim. Though Huo Du’s methods were despicable and drew universal condemnation, he had nonetheless won the match. Should anything go awry in the next two bouts, today’s martial gathering would become a laughingstock, a shame upon the martial world.

Moreover, the poison afflicting Zhu Ziliu was plainly no ordinary toxin; only an antidote from Huo Du or the Golden Wheel Monk would suffice. Even Huang Rong, famed for her wit, was at a loss as to how to obtain it.

As Huang Rong frowned in anxiety, her expression suddenly changed—for the next contestant had already stepped into the arena: Tang Xuan, the eminent disciple of Master Xuanzhi.

The crowd, still berating Huo Du, turned their attention to Tang Xuan on the field. Huo Du, unfazed by the curses, was surprised to see Tang Xuan enter. “We’ve already won the first round. Are you the next challenger?”

This youth seemed far too young! The second match should be handled by his senior brother, Da’erba—surely more than enough to deal with such a greenhorn.

As Huo Du spoke, more jeers rose from the crowd, but he ignored them, turning to summon Da’erba.

“Wait,” Tang Xuan called, smiling.

“What is it?” Huo Du turned back.

“I’d like to face you first,” Tang Xuan replied with a smile.

“Face me?” Huo Du was incredulous. This youth wasn't following the rules at all.

Before Huo Du could retort, Tang Xuan surveyed the hall and called out loudly, “May I borrow a staff from someone?”

The heroes in the hall, though puzzled as to why Tang Xuan insisted on challenging Huo Du—since, despite Huo Du’s villainy, he had won the first match and the next bout should logically be against the second Mongolian contestant—were more than willing to lend a staff to anyone taking on such a dishonorable opponent.

Lu Youjiao, one of the elders of the Western Beggar Clan, stepped forward and offered a purple staff of exceptional craftsmanship. The Beggar Clan was renowned for its staff techniques and their famous Dog Beating Formation. As an elder, Lu Youjiao’s staff was no ordinary weapon, but a rare implement forged from violet phosphorus stone.

“Excellent,” Tang Xuan nodded, accepting it.

[Violet Phosphorus Staff (Green): Attack Power +50.]

“A top-grade green weapon,” Tang Xuan mused with a smile. White gear indicated ordinary weapons, green meant renowned martial arms, and blue denoted legendary blades. His previously acquired Tiger Fang Blade, Cloud-Headed Saber, and Yanbei Saber were all green weapons with attack power around 30 or 35, but this Violet Phosphorus Staff boasted a full 50—truly top-tier.

“Villain, watch the staff!” Tang Xuan shouted, launching his attack at Huo Du. His very first move was “Trip,” one of the eight core techniques of the Dog Beating Staff.

Huo Du had not taken the young man seriously, curious to see what tricks he might have up his sleeve. Yet the moment Tang Xuan struck, Huo Du realized the threat—swiftly blocking with his fan and leaping aside.

But the “Trip” maneuver of the Dog Beating Staff was relentless as a flowing river, giving the opponent no respite. If the first trip failed, the second followed instantly, hooking and entangling in a seamless chain.

Huo Du was quickly thrown into disarray!

“The Dog Beating Staff Technique!”

Huang Rong, Lu Youjiao, and the other Beggar Clan members all cried out in astonishment. Even many among the gathered martial artists who recognized this legendary technique stared in disbelief—this young man was not of the Beggar Clan, yet wielded the Dog Beating Staff with such mastery? And with such exquisite skill?