Tan Wei had been watching the contest intently. At this moment, she stepped out from the crowd, raised a hand, and theatrically scratched her cheek.
"Shame! What a shame! The Jiuxiao Palace is always attacking people by surprise. What kind of heroes are you?"
To the Jiuxiao Palace, however, her words were deeply insulting and utterly humiliating.
Ling Yun, the Right Qian-Kun Envoy, immediately flushed crimson with anger.
"What? You claim the True God Palace has no real martial skill? Little girl, say that again if you dare!"
Ling Yun had already been greatly displeased by Tan Wei's contempt for him. Now that she had openly accused them of ambushing others, his anger boiled over.
"Little girl, take this!"
Before the words had even left his mouth, he sprang into the air with a furious shout and charged straight at her.
At that very instant, Tan Wei abruptly changed direction and unleashed the Eight Forms of Cloud Hands. She slipped to the left, darted to the right, spun once forward and once backward. Her body whirled rapidly, and in the blink of an eye she had slipped behind Li Jian.
Ling Yun suddenly found Tan Wei hiding behind Li Jian. A trace of fear arose in his heart, and he hurriedly withdrew his hand. Instinctively, he leaped into the air and landed lightly more than a zhang away.
Tan Wei gave him a playful smile.
"If you really have the skill, you should challenge him instead of picking on a weak girl like me."
Seeing that the situation was turning against them, the disciples of Jiuxiao Palace realized that if the fight continued, their side would surely suffer. The four Heaven, Earth, Wind, and Thunder Envoys—Zhou Da, Xu Er, Sun San, and Ma Si—now came forward, weapons in hand.
Zhou Da shouted, "We are here today to wipe out the Fire-Worshipping Sect, not to compete in martial skill. Brothers and sisters, attack together! Surround that young fellow!"
With that, he leaped forward with his sword raised.
The male and female disciples of Jiuxiao Palace immediately surged forward, weapons in hand, taking up positions on all sides. Everyone watching was startled. They could not help but think that the Jiuxiao Palace was being far too ruthless. After losing a martial contest, they had actually drawn their weapons and were preparing for an all-out bloody battle.
Li Jian slowly removed the Wolong Saber from his back. His eyes were cold and piercing.
"Once the Wolong Saber is drawn, no demon can stand against it. Think carefully before you act!"
Xu Er shouted, "Enough nonsense!"
Sun San yelled, "Attack!"
Zhou Da led the disciples in from the north, while Xu Er, Sun San, and Ma Si urged their men forward from the east, south, and west. Their long swords trembled as they thrust forward in a furious assault. Dozens of blades sliced through the night sky, flashing like streaks of white light as they repeatedly hacked toward Li Jian.
Li Jian suddenly sprang into the air.
His body spun rapidly, completing five consecutive rotations. With each turn, he moved farther away. Then, with another sudden change of direction, he landed fully ten zhang away.
After touching down, Li Jian said coldly:
"Bitter medicine cures illness; unpleasant advice benefits conduct."
Ma Si suddenly leaped forward.
"Attack!"
He charged ahead of the others and thrust his sword straight at Li Jian, but the blade struck nothing but empty air.
The remaining disciples of Jiuxiao Palace rushed forward one after another. Yet Li Jian's movements were simply too fast. Though their blades relentlessly targeted his vital points, he slipped between them, darting here and there and effortlessly evading every attack.
His astonishing martial skill left everyone present—friend and foe alike—stunned.
Suddenly, a flash of saber light appeared in Li Jian's hand.
He moved through the crowd like a phantom, his feet seemingly never touching the ground, as though he were flying through the air.
Then came one anguished scream after another, each more terrifying than the last.
Some disciples were slashed across the thighs; others across the shoulders. Blood poured from their wounds.
Li Jian finally returned the Wolong Saber to its sheath and said in a deep voice:
"I have already shown mercy. If you still refuse to understand, you may soon find yourselves standing at death's door."
Moments earlier, with the Wolong Saber in his hand, Li Jian had driven the enemy back at every turn. Scores of Jiuxiao Palace disciples now lay wounded. When he spoke those few words in a calm, resonant voice, everyone present was deeply moved.
The entire Jiuxiao Palace contingent fell into complete silence.
Long Zhen Tian, the Lord of Jiuxiao Palace, watched in astonishment as Li Jian wielded the Wolong Saber with overwhelming power. In an instant, all his fighting spirit vanished.
He knew perfectly well that his side could now do nothing but take blow after blow without any hope of striking back. If the battle continued, Jiuxiao Palace would only suffer even greater humiliation.
He cupped his hands toward Li Jian.
"Your martial skill is truly unparalleled. In all my life, I have never witnessed anything like it. Jiuxiao Palace admits defeat today."
Without even bidding farewell to King Marpa, Long Zhen Tian waved his hand. His disciples immediately began tending to the wounded and carrying away those who were injured. The entire Jiuxiao Palace force withdrew down the mountain.
Thus went the verse:
Bitter words may counsel well,Yet supreme skill leaves all amazed;The saber flashes, cutting through—Drawn from its sheath, yet mercy stays.
At that moment, the moon hung in the sky like frost, while the night breeze swept across the mountain.
A chill ran through King Marpa.
His face turned deathly pale.
He had never imagined that the mighty Jiuxiao Palace, a force that had dominated an entire region, would suffer such a crushing defeat before a young man.
They had lost not merely the battle, but all face.
Jiuxiao Palace had been utterly defeated and was now retreating in disgrace.
Just then, Fei Jin, the Beggar Sect's leader, stepped out from the crowd and laughed heartily.
"The Central Plains are never short of talented martial artists. The young man standing before you is the newly appointed Hall Master of the Zhongyi Hall. The Wolong Saber in his hand is specially meant for destroying demons and vanquishing evil. Does anyone here care to test their skill against him?"
King Marpa was already in the midst of the gathering. How could he simply admit defeat and withdraw?
Moreover, he had spent years painstakingly planning this campaign. How could he abandon everything so easily?
Yet with Jiuxiao Palace, his strongest ally from the Central Plains, defeated and gone, he was now short of both men and weapons. Even the cleverest cook could not prepare a meal without rice.
Just as he was worrying over what to do, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
King Marpa lowered his voice.
"I have long heard that the leader of the Beggar Sect is a true hero. You have gone so far as to intervene on behalf of the Fire-Worshipping Sect today. Tell me, what benefit have they given you? Name your price, and my side will naturally offer you a satisfactory reward.
"If you are willing to pledge allegiance to Tibet, I can even grant you an official position. What say you, old leader?"
After all, as the saying goes, money can make the devil himself turn a millstone. Perhaps this plan might work.
Things had already reached this point. His side had been defeated in martial skill, so why not give this strategy a try?
King Marpa thought to himself:
"Isn't the leader of the Beggar Sect merely someone who survives by begging? If I offer him enough gold and silver, perhaps there may still be room to turn things around."
There is an old saying among the Chinese people: when a household has neither spare money nor surplus grain, people say it is "poorer than Fan Dan."
But who exactly was Fan Dan?
Fan Dan lived during the Eastern Han dynasty and was revered by the Beggar Sect as its "Old Patriarch." He was a disciple of Ma Rong, a renowned Confucian scholar of the Eastern Han, and was well versed in the Five Classics.
Emperor Huan of Han appointed him magistrate of Laiwu County, but Fan Dan declined the position and remained content with poverty.
People described his extreme poverty with the famous sayings:
"Dust gathered in Fan Shiyun's rice steamer,and fish grew in Fan Laiwu's empty cooking pot."
Yet though Fan Dan was poor, he never surrendered his dignity. He was poor but unyielding, impoverished yet proud, and he would never bow his head before the wealthy.
Death-Demanding Poem / The Beggar of Yongjia
My life is like a gull upon the sea,With a bamboo staff, I wander through the southern lands.At dusk, my rice bag holds the remnant moon;In the autumn breeze, I sing to greet the dawn.
With both feet, I would kick apart this dusty world;Upon one shoulder, I carry all the sorrows of ages.From this day forth, I shall not eat food offered in contempt;Why should the yellow dog bark at me without end?