As I stepped into the ethereal void for the first time, a chill swept across the realm, heralding the arrival of the Heavenly Evil.

The destitute scholar gazed at Abbot Tianhong’s troubled face, letting out a soft chuckle before asking, “Old monk, decades ago, who was it that imprisoned Tianxie? Why does he now seek vengeance against your sect, frightening you so much your very countenance pales?”

He then revisited an earlier topic, lightly mocking the abbot, “Old monk, the older you get, the more timid you become. Your Famen Temple boasts three thousand monks, many of whom are martial masters. However formidable Tianxie may be, he is but one man—what is there to fear?”

Abbot Tianding sighed. “What use is a multitude? Have you already forgotten the masked man’s rampage through our temple last night?”

The scholar nodded in agreement. “You have a point, old monk. The masked man has sent the carrier pigeon to summon the Seven Evils for aid. Tianxie is certain to arrive soon. Let us act according to the situation. If Tianxie prevails, we shall reveal ourselves and fight him to the death.”

Miss Jie added, “The masked man’s martial skills are no greater than those of the abbot and your fellow brothers. It is only that your temple is weighed down by too many concerns and has been long at peace. When trouble does arise, you are thrown into confusion, giving the masked man the chance to strike. He is driven by an overwhelming purpose, ready to stake his life at every turn. As the saying goes, ‘If one man fears not death, a thousand cannot best him.’”

As she finished speaking, suddenly, from the northeast, two figures flashed toward their hiding place like lightning. Mo Dao could not help but exclaim in surprise, “Look, those two racing this way—could one of them be Tianxie?”

Abbot Tianhong peered into the distance, his expression tense. Only when the figures drew within thirty feet did he finally relax. Now he could see them clearly: they were the two junior brothers of the leader of the Azure Water Sect, Huang Sanlou and Huang Silou. Shaking his head, he replied, “It isn’t Tianxie.”

Before he finished, the two had arrived. Abbot Tianhong hurried to greet them. “Where have you come from? Please, come here and take shelter for a moment.”

Recognizing the abbot, the two immediately bowed in respect. “At the order of our sect leader, we came to discuss with you and your esteemed sect how to deal with the one posting those strips of white silk.”

“But halfway here, we heard from locals that two masked men had committed murder. The abbot had already set out in pursuit with three companions, so we changed course and hastened south. Just outside the valley, we saw a carrier pigeon take flight and guessed there must be fellow martial artists here. We decided to investigate, never expecting to find you at this very spot—what a coincidence!”

Abbot Tianhong introduced the scholar, “This is Benefactor Bi, known as the Destitute Scholar. Have you not met before?” Huang Sanlou and Huang Silou both bowed to him.

Huang Sanlou was first to speak. “We have long heard that Benefactor Bi is a hero renowned for both literary and martial virtue. It is truly our good fortune to meet you—”

The scholar interrupted with a gentle laugh. “You give me too much credit. I am neither skilled with the brush nor the sword; hardly worthy of such praise.”

Huang Sanlou glanced at Miss Jie, noticing her drenched in fragrant sweat from exhaustion, and asked, “Is this lady your distinguished disciple, Master Bi?”

The scholar shook his head; Abbot Tianhong answered, “This young lady is Jie Qingzi, disciple of the Heaven Blade Pavilion’s master.”

At that moment, Miss Jie was preoccupied with her own thoughts. She merely glanced at the two Taoists before bowing her head again, focusing intently on cutting grass.

Huang Sanlou then inquired about the masked men. “Has the abbot learned anything of the two masked men who committed those murders?”

Abbot Tianhong nodded and gestured toward the depths of the valley. “The masked man in this valley is one of them.”

The two brothers peered into the valley. There sat the masked man, cross-legged atop a massive stone, eyes closed, breathing calmly as if in deep meditation, while six burly men sat on the opposite side, glaring at him with wide, angry eyes.

They were utterly baffled by the scene. Huang Sanlou asked, “Abbot, what is going on here?”

Abbot Tianhong explained, “This masked man is the one who posted the white silk. His martial skills are strange and formidable, and his temperament most peculiar. If he wished to kill the six before him, it would take but a moment. Yet he waits for their powerful reinforcements to arrive, planning to slay them all at once.”

Huang Silou exclaimed in surprise, “Does the abbot know who these reinforcements are?”

Abbot Tianhong replied, “Decades ago, these men revered Tianxie—a name that once shook the martial world—as their leader. The one they await is none other than Tianxie.”

At this, Huang Sanlou was visibly shaken, his face paling. “So he has emerged again in the capital. One disaster follows another—a calamity the martial world cannot escape.”

Huang Silou was equally alarmed. “If the masked man dares challenge Tianxie, his skills must be without equal in the world today.”

Abbot Tianhong said, “It’s too soon to say. When the carrier pigeon brings Tianxie here and they battle, only then will we know who is superior.”

Huang Sanlou said worriedly, “Both men are a menace to every sect. The best outcome would be for their powers to cancel out, destroying each other. Otherwise—”

The scholar laughed. “There are no such perfect calculations in this world. If even one of them could be eliminated, it would be a stroke of fortune amidst misfortune for the martial world.”

Abbot Tianhong said, “This is a rare opportunity for us. When Tianxie arrives, the two must fight a perilous duel. Whether they both perish or one is killed and the other wounded, we can conserve our strength and seize the chance to eliminate the survivor. The sects will know peace at last.”

The scholar snorted. “Old monk, you’re how many decades old and still this naive? We may not be able to handle the masked man ourselves.”

Suddenly, a carrier pigeon darted in from the north, followed by a long, piercing, and chilling whistle that left everyone shaken.

Looking up, they saw a figure standing precariously atop the opposite peak. He took but a single glance into the valley before leaping down, his descent swift as a shooting star—so swift it was terrifying.

All five were transfixed by the breathtaking scene of the man plunging from the thousand-foot peak, convinced this must be Tianxie.

Even the proud Miss Jie could not help but exclaim in astonishment, “What kind of lightness skill is this?” Abbot Tianhong murmured unconsciously, “Such speed!”

The scholar, too, lost his usual air of levity, his heart pounding with concern for the masked man seated below.

The Huang brothers could scarcely believe anyone could master such birdlike agility. As they watched in awe, the falling figure somersaulted in midair ten yards above the ground and landed gracefully among the six burly men.

The six instantly rose to greet him, dropping to their knees and wailing, “Leader, we’ve failed! Our eldest, second brother, and ninth brother were all slain by this masked villain. Please avenge them!”

Abbot Tianhong and the others watched intently. Seeing the six men kneel and address the newcomer as leader, they knew without a doubt this was the infamous Tianxie.

He was a figure of striking appearance: his hair was entirely white, as if he had just been released from prison. A long, snowy beard brushed his chest, and in his left hand he carried a yellow bamboo staff. His robe was voluminous yet hung loosely on a frame as gaunt as a withered branch.

Tianxie’s eyes flashed with a cold, penetrating brilliance as he cast a glance at the six men. “Nine of you together, and you couldn’t subdue a single masked brat? You’ve utterly disgraced me—useless! Get up at once.”

The six kowtowed quickly and scrambled to their feet, arranging themselves on either side of Tianxie before fixing their stares on the masked man.

Tianxie looked at the masked man perched on the boulder with utter disdain, letting out a cold laugh. The sound was as chilling as a gust from an icy cave, sending shivers through those who heard it. After that, he sneered, “Boy, did you think Tianxie’s men could be bullied so easily?”

The masked man rose slowly, his eyes flashing cold as lightning as he met Tianxie’s gaze. His shoulders gave a slight tremor, and his body floated down from the boulder as lightly as a tuft of cotton, alighting soundlessly, his demeanor perfectly composed.

He lifted his brush and wrote coolly, “All who dwell in the martial world, whether righteous or evil, no matter how skilled or strange, I will hunt them all down and destroy them—Tianxie or anyone else!”

Tianxie let out a chilling laugh. “Heh! Such arrogance, brat. Are you the one who has been posting those strips of white silk, claiming to be a victim?”

The masked man wrote again, “That’s right. Since your death has come, how would you like to die? I will see it done.”

Never in all his years of tyranny had Tianxie been spoken to so lightly. The words on the brushboard sent him into a rage, but instead of exploding, he burst into wild laughter—thunderous, echoing like a mountain’s collapse.

As his laughter faded, he barked, “Boy, how great can your skills be, to boast so?” Even as he spoke, his withered arms lifted slowly, bones creaking as he summoned all his power, preparing to strike the masked man dead in a single blow.

The tension was so sharp that the five hidden observers’ hearts pounded wildly. Suddenly, Tianxie seemed to think better of it and lowered his arms again, letting his gathered strength dissipate.

The masked man grinned, calmly raising his brush to write, “My skills are beyond measure. Ask your men—was the power with which I killed their three brothers enough to take your life?”

Tianxie, a veteran of countless battles, could already sense from the masked man’s steely gaze and tranquil bearing that his inner strength was no lesser than his own. He began to speculate about the masked man’s origins.

He thus hesitated, glancing again at the brushboard before turning to Dizha Star Chongjun. “How exactly did your eldest, second, and ninth brothers meet their end at his hands?”

Chongjun described in detail the tragic deaths of his three brothers.

Tianxie listened in shock. He thought: This man’s face cannot be seen, but when he grins, the long, white teeth he reveals prove he is not old. Moreover, he uses a brush to communicate, never speaking—could he be mute? How could such a person possess such skills?

He wanted his six men to test the masked man’s abilities and discern his origins, so he barked, “You all—use the relay palm technique I taught you. Try two moves with him!”