Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 1097: The Tide Turns

“The Shadowless Divine Fist.” Ding Dian withdrew his fist and spoke in a low, measured tone.

“Good. Very good technique.” The Vajra Sect master’s voice came out slightly hoarse, his expression one of profound discomfort.

He had built his reputation in the wulin over decades. When he came to the Central Plains this time, there was only one man he had truly regarded with any caution…Zhang Sanfeng. Everyone else was beneath his notice. Yet somehow, Song Qingshu had already cracked his Indestructible Vajra Body, then not long after he had been made to look a fool by that mysterious embroidering thief, and now some obscure junior had just driven him back a full several steps.

He understood perfectly well that were it not for the grueling exchange with Shi Potian followed immediately by those two old devils Ding Busan and Ding Busi, his internal energy would never have been so far below its peak, and this minor embarrassment would never have occurred. But the fact remained: before a courtyard full of witnesses, a single punch from an unknown fighter had pushed him back. That was an undeniable humiliation, and it showed plainly on his face.

The exchange did not go unnoticed. Both Ruyang Palace and Mount Song went still with surprise. Ruyang Palace’s people understood well enough what the Vajra Sect master was capable of. Mount Song had just watched him carve through their own elite fighters with terrible efficiency…and now a newcomer had appeared who could check him. Without any prior arrangement, both sides lowered their hands and turned wary eyes upon Ding Dian and his companions.

There was no longer any purpose in staying hidden. Su Shidan and Xin Qiji stepped out from their concealed positions…but Song Qingshu, for whatever reason he had, still did not show himself.

Su Shidan assumed he was displeased with Ding for ruining the plan, and said nothing of it. He walked forward until he stood before Wang Baobao, cleared his throat, and spoke with easy courtesy: “My master was brought here as your honored guest. His household elders have grown anxious for his return, and so they have sent me to escort him home.”

“So you serve Minister Han.” Wang Baobao grasped the situation at once. A cold smile crossed his lips. “Go back and tell your household that your master is so content here, he has entirely forgotten the way home. He has no wish to leave.”

Su Shidan’s expression shifted. “If that is your answer, then we have no choice but to give offence.” The words had barely left his mouth before Xin Qiji stepped forward, a fierce sword Qi radiating outward in all directions.

Wang Baobao fell silent.

His forces were all but spent. What remained were Daoist Baishang, the Vajra Sect master, the Xuanming Elders, and a handful of Tibetan monks…every one of them carrying injuries. They had been barely managing the fight as it stood. Now fresh fighters had arrived to join the other side. The outcome was no longer in doubt.

He was still weighing his options when the Vajra Sect master, still burning with the shame of a moment ago, roared out in furious indignation: “A momentary lapse let you take advantage! Again…come again!” And he flung himself straight at Ding Dian.

Feeling the fierce gale of force behind those oncoming fists, Ding Dian dared not be careless. He focused his full attention and began picking apart the assault with careful precision.

The moment the two men clashed, tempestuous force rolled outward in every direction. Ding found it difficult even to breathe; Ding Busan and Ding Busi moved in quickly and hauled her away.

“Bring Brother Tian too,” she managed, even in the rush.

“Someday I swear I’ll flatten that insufferable boy with a single palm strike.” Ding Busan ground his teeth.

Ding Busi watched Ding fussing over her beloved with undisguised amusement. “They say you can’t hold onto a grown girl…what’s the point of all that effort raising a granddaughter, eh? Much simpler to live free like me.”

“Rubbish, absolute rubbish,” Ding Busan snapped. “I’ll just have the boy move into the Ding household as a live-in son-in-law. Problem solved.” At that thought, he glanced over at Shi Potian again and found, to his own surprise, that the young man was looking considerably more agreeable than before.

Seeing Ding Busan and the others withdraw with Shi Potian, a ripple of agitation moved through the Mount Song disciples. 

Zuo Lengchan quietly stilled them with a gesture: “Read the situation first.” 

These new arrivals were of unknown origin…if a confrontation with them drew a combined assault, Mount Song might not survive the night under its own name.

“Those two old men are the Ding brothers from the Ding Estate of Zhenjiang Liuhe…the elder is Ding Busan, the younger Ding Busi. Both are ruthless devil figures from the dark path.” The Bald Eagle Sha Tianjiang moved in the same world as they did; he had a thorough knowledge of the unorthodox masters scattered across the wulin.

“Which sect do they answer to?” Zuo Lengchan’s gaze moved restlessly over the Southern Song group, trying to determine who they were.

The Bald Eagle’s expression was uncomfortable. “They don’t belong to any sect. They carry official backing from the Song court…Ding Daquan, the current Countersignatory of the Bureau of Military Affairs in the Southern Song court, is a member of the Ding clan.”

“Southern Song court officials?” Zuo Lengchan felt a cold jolt. He turned the characteristics of the fighters he had just faced over in his mind, and the pieces assembled themselves…Ruyang Palace of the Mongols, whose fame for gathering supreme martial talent had spread throughout the wulin. His expression darkened further.

The Bald Eagle’s next words confirmed exactly what he was thinking: “Unless I’m mistaken, that knife-and-spear-proof monk is the master of the Vajra Sect. The blue-robed elder you were just fighting is Daoist Baishang. And then there are the Xuanming Elders, the Divine Arrow Eight Heroes…they’re all from the Mongol Ruyang Palace.”

“And you couldn’t have said this sooner?” Zuo Lengchan’s voice went cold with anger.

The Bald Eagle gave a helpless smile. “In the thick of that, when was there any opening to speak? And even if I had…could we really have stopped ourselves?”

A chill settled deep in Zuo Lengchan’s chest. Mongol power grew stronger with every passing year, and Ruyang Palace had made its name across the martial world when it swept the Six Major Sects in a single stroke. To have made enemies of such a force…what good could possibly come of it?

The one small mercy was that Mount Song presently operated within the territory of the Jin Dynasty, beyond the immediate reach of Mongol authority.

While Zuo Lengchan was still unsettled by these thoughts, the Vajra Sect master and Ding Dian locking into combat triggered a cascade. The Southern Song group had already considered Ruyang Palace an adversary…one thread pulled, and the whole web moved. In an instant, everyone was fighting again.

Su Shidan engaged Daoist Baishang. Xin Qiji drew his longsword and met the Xuanming Elders’ crane-beak brush and deer-antler staff with ringing steel. Ding Busan and Ding Busi, nursing their wounds, did not rejoin the fighting…they positioned themselves to shield Ding and Shi Potian, watching the Mount Song contingent beside them with vigilant eyes.

Song Qingshu suppressed a quiet sigh.

The original plan had been elegant. Let Mount Song spend themselves wearing down Ruyang Palace. Whichever side emerged, they would be in no condition to resist. Then his own group would sweep through what remained like an autumn wind scattering dead leaves. Perfect.

Instead, some unforeseen variable had upended everything, and now it was Mount Song sitting comfortably on the sidelines, watching the Southern Song group bleed against Ruyang Palace…

“Young Master…should we go down and help?” For some reason Lu Guanying had not followed Su Shidan and the others out. He had remained at Song Qingshu’s side, instinctively waiting for his direction.

“Not yet.” Song Qingshu shook his head. “Mount Song hasn’t moved. We must hold our position.”

Ruyang Palace had just endured a grinding battle and was fighting injured to a man. The Southern Song fighters were all entering fresh. Gradually, the weight of the engagement began to tilt.

The Vajra Sect master was still holding his own against Ding Dian, the Indestructible Vajra Body keeping things even. But Daoist Baishang had taken further damage from Zuo Lengchan’s Frost True Qi earlier, and his injuries were compounding. Against Su Shidan now, the signs of defeat were already showing.

The most dazzling performance in the courtyard, however, belonged to Xin Qiji. His longsword moved with unbridled ferocity, sword Qi slashing in every direction, driving the Xuanming Elders into desperate disarray. Suddenly he let out a thundering shout, and in a single clean stroke severed the deer-antler staff. In the same movement he burst free of their encirclement, his entire bearing as keen and unstoppable as a drawn blade, and drove straight toward Wang Baobao.

Once Wang Baobao was taken, Han Dingxiao’s objective would be secured, and all would be well.

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