Meanwhile, Hebei Demon King Wang Yu caught sight of another target and sneered, "Isn't this the sect master of the Sand Gang? Come on now, just a hundred taels—don't even think about running!"
Hedong Old Freak Mo Jian chimed in, "And here we have the sect master of the Divine Fist Gang. Don't even think about leaving—hand over a hundred taels!"
Though the named gang leaders were full of reluctance, they had nowhere to run. Each sighed at his misfortune, stepped forward, and respectfully handed over a silver note worth a hundred taels to the Henan Tyrant Huo Bing, before turning and walking off, their faces dark with humiliation.
Just then, someone called out, "Isn't that Qiu Biao, Deputy Chief of the Flying Eagle Gang?"
The Sand Gang master was a lean middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face and piercing eyes. Dressed in coarse linen with a short blade at his waist—its sheath worn from years of use—he turned pale at the summons. Instinctively, his right hand reached for his money pouch, then hesitated. At last, gritting his teeth, he handed over the silver note with trembling hands.
The Divine Fist Gang's leader was a burly brute, broad-shouldered with iron fists covered in calluses. Clad in a brown combat robe embroidered with the characters "Divine Fist," his forehead veins bulged as he clenched his fists. But after witnessing the grim fate of others, he let out a long sigh and handed over his silver, his eyes brimming with shame.
"Power compels submission, freedom vanishes before force.Dragons and phoenixes soar but cannot halt their descent.Flowers bloom for three thousand guests,Yet a single blade chills fourteen provinces..."— Xian Qian Shang Fu, Guanxiu
Mo Jian grinned wickedly. "There's still one more."
Wang Yu laughed aloud, his voice booming through the mountain valley, sending chills down the spines of all present. The laughter stopped abruptly. His tone turned icy. "Hurry up and hand over a hundred taels."
But Qiu Biao, the Flying Eagle Gang's deputy chief, remained still. His gaze was cold, unmoved. Wang Yu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "This one has some backbone. Let me test him!"
He leapt into the air, graceful and poised, shouting, "You lot are pushing your luck! Know when to stop!"
Wang Yu frowned, surprised to see a young man. "And who might you be? What business is this of yours?"
The youth replied, "I'm Wang Yun, escort guard of the Capital Escort Agency."
Wang Yu blinked—he had heard the name somewhere before but couldn't recall. He scoffed, "A mere escort dares meddle in my affairs? Even your head guard would bow to me. Get lost!"
Just then, Mo Jian's eyes flashed with recognition. "Wang Yu," he warned, "this is the same youth who slew the abbot of Fahua Temple. Be careful!"
Wang Yu snorted. "Fahua Temple? That monk couldn't even swing a staff. Kid, this is your last warning. Stay out of it—or die!"
Wang Yun's eyes gleamed, but he didn't move aside. Instead, he said calmly, "Senior, let it go."
Wang Yu felt a shiver inside but with so many martial artists watching, how could he retreat now? Pouring his internal energy into his palms, he shouted, "Kid! Prepare to die!"
Before his shout had ended, his palm was already hurtling toward Wang Yun's chest like lightning. Gasps erupted from the crowd.
But Wang Yun was ready. He stepped in, catching Wang Yu's right palm with his own. Wang Yu was startled—his left palm followed instantly, only to be caught as well.
Blow after blow, palm after palm—Wang Yu's fierce and thunderous attacks poured down, but Wang Yun countered every move with graceful footwork and sharp timing. He dodged, redirected, and slipped through every opening like a shadow. Then, with a sudden step and burst of inner strength, he leapt several yards away.
Though surprised Wang Yun could parry so many blows, Wang Yu's years of combat experience kicked in. With a stomp that shattered stones, he changed his attack from hard to soft, launching the "Flying Clouds Obscure the Moon"—a supreme move from the Dark Wind Palm. Palm shadows rolled in like a storm, enshrouding Wang Yun in a dark wave.
Wang Yun's expression hardened. The changing attacks were relentless. He didn't dare face them head-on. Like a swallow, he leapt diagonally, spinning midair to evade the onslaught. As he landed, he stepped off a protruding rock, reversed his force, and launched a "Crane Pierces the Clouds"—his palm striking Wang Yu's ribs from the side.
Caught off guard, Wang Yu staggered back two steps, eyes flashing with fury. "Not bad, brat!"
He lashed out again, his left palm like a wolf's claw, aiming straight for Wang Yun's throat.
But Wang Yun advanced instead of retreating. Flipping his palm up to block, the two forces clashed, sending a wave of internal energy outward. Both were pushed back several feet.
The crowd gasped as the shockwave fluttered their robes. None had expected the young man could stand toe-to-toe with the infamous demon.
Wang Yu's anger boiled over. In a blur, he appeared at Wang Yun's flank, launching his "Heaven-Sunder Shadow Palm"—one of his deadliest moves. If hit, even a master would suffer grave injury.
Wang Yun's eyes narrowed. He knew this couldn't be met head-on. He sidestepped, condensed his energy into a blade-like palm, and struck back with "Shattered Cloud Palm", neutralizing the deadly strike mid-air. Leaves scattered in the wind from the force of their clash.
Thus began a duel between a young rising hero and a notorious martial demon—who would prevail was yet unknown.
The two exchanged blows in a whirlwind of palm strikes, shockwaves roaring like thunder. Dust billowed, the air grew tense. Wang Yun moved like flowing water, his technique refined and graceful. Wang Yu's style was savage and overpowering—brute force born of countless battles.
As Wang Yu's face twisted in surprise, he muttered, "Good kid! You've got some real skill!"
Wang Yun replied, "Senior, please—this should end here."
Wang Yu scowled. "You think you can decide that? Move! I still want my hundred taels."
Wang Yun recalled his father-in-law's words: "Out in the world, always stay calm. Never act rashly. Think of the bigger picture." He thought, This can't escalate... and said firmly, "You've already taken a hundred taels from the other sects. I won't make trouble for you. But don't push your luck."
Wang Yu's face turned crimson with rage. "You insolent brat! Who do you think you are? I'll let you off this time—but if you don't move, I'll kill you where you stand!"
Wang Yun replied, "As the son-in-law of the Flying Eagle Gang's chief, how can I stay out of this? Please, do not press further."
Just then, Mo Jian said, "Wang Yu, that's enough. We've gained plenty today. Let's go drink and eat—we don't need to trouble this kid."
But his words only added fuel to the fire.
Wang Yu growled, "Trouble me?! He dares speak down to me? I'll teach him a lesson myself. I don't need the gang's silver—but I'll make sure he pays in pain! These young pups think they can walk all over us old hands? I'll show him his place!"