Wuxia: Start with max-level Nine Yang Divine Skill

Chapter 243 Li Fu: "What kind of Tom, Dick, or Harry dares to ask my name?" (Two chapters combined)

"I dare to touch you."

Fan Taisui thought that once someone mustered up the courage to shout, that person would surely not dare to make a sound again after he spoke.

He has been running rampant in Luzhou for so many years, and no one has dared to mess with him.

But this time is different.

The crowds on both sides receded like a tide, clearing a wide path and revealing a figure.

The man stood at the front of the crowd, his blue robe fluttering, his hands behind his back, his expression calm, neither retreating nor dodging.

Fan Taisui's eyes turned completely cold.

He looked Li Fu up and down, noticing that the young man was unarmed and alone, neither a disciple of a famous sect nor a seasoned veteran of the martial arts world.

He snorted coldly and asked condescendingly, "Who are you? Do you consider yourself a chivalrous hero who stands up for the weak? If you want to help those in need, you should first consider your own capabilities."

.

As he spoke, he turned back and smiled at the guards beside him.

The guards joined in the laughter.

One person said, "Young master, this man has probably listened to too many stories and thinks that he can gain a reputation as a chivalrous hero by speaking out against injustice."

""

Another person said, "Doesn't he even know where he is? This is Luzhou City, the territory of the Prince of Nankang's residence. Who gives him the right to act so arrogantly?"

Another person chimed in: "Judging by his age, he's probably just graduated from his master's school and is new to the martial world, unaware of his own limitations."

Li Fu listened to these jokes without changing his expression and said calmly, "I dare not accept the title of great hero."

However, his primary duty was as a constable, and upon hearing someone confess to murder in the street, he couldn't resist the urge to arrest them.

"A constable?"

Fan Taisui was taken aback at first, then threw his head back and burst into laughter.

People in government believe that a higher rank can be overwhelming, and his brother-in-law is the Prince of Nankang.

He laughed so hard he bent over, slapping his thigh as he spoke to the guards beside him.

Did you hear that?

He said he was a constable!

"A mere constable dares to interfere in my business?"

He finished laughing, wiped his eyes, and looked down at Li Fu.

"Which government office are you from? The county office? The prefectural office? Or the Six Doors?"

His tone was utterly contemptuous.

"Even the most formidable constable from the Six Doors would have to show deference to my brother-in-law, the Prince of Nankang. What are you, a mere constable, to him?"

In his despair, Xue Ning desperately hoped that a chivalrous hero would take pity on him and his sister and save them from injustice. However, when he saw that the person who stepped forward was Li Fu, a man who looked to be about the same age as him, he was stunned, and the little hope that had just risen in his heart sank again.

This person is probably like him, young and impetuous, unaware of the consequences.

How high could the official rank be for such a young constable? And how skilled could he be in martial arts?

It's likely that he's new to public service, eager to uphold the law, and acting out of sheer enthusiasm.

Xue Ning struggled to sit up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and said in great pain.

"Brother, I, Xue Ning, thank you very much."

I am extremely grateful for your kindness.

But you should still leave—don't get yourself involved because of me.

Li Fu glanced at him, his tone indifferent.

"You don't need to think too much about it."

There's another reason I stepped forward.

I was just about to ask the brother-in-law of the Prince of Nankang a few questions.

As for saving you and your sister—it was just something I did along the way.

His tone was very calm, as if he had said something completely ordinary.

Xue Ning was stunned and didn't know how to respond for a moment.

Just doing it on a whim? Or asking a few questions?

A constable wants to question the brother-in-law of the Prince of Nankang.

On the high platform, a middle-aged gray-robed monk, a retainer of the Prince's mansion beside Fan Taisui, frowned and walked up behind him, whispering a reminder.

"Young Master Fan, this gentleman—his demeanor is unusual, and his tone is quite arrogant; he probably has quite a background."

1

He looked at Li Fu below the stage, who was calm and composed, and who exuded a refined and otherworldly air.

After he stepped forward, even as his guards pointed their weapons at him, he remained unmoved, as if not even a vast army could change the color of his face.

"Does it have some background?"

Fan Taisui frowned, clearly having taken the words to heart, but still unconvinced. He snorted coldly, raising his voice so that everyone in the audience could hear him.

"What kind of background could be greater than mine?"

My elder sister is the Princess Consort of the Prince of Nankang, and my brother-in-law is a direct descendant of the founding emperor.

He suddenly waved his hand and pointed at Li Fu below the stage, "The way he stands there with his back straight and his neck stiff is too eye-catching."

"Zhang Tieshan, break his legs and make him kneel before you talk to me."

Zhang Tieshan frowned, but still replied, "Yes."

He placed his right hand on the hilt of the short sword at his waist and slowly walked towards Li Fu.

Xue Ning struggled to shout, "Watch out! He's Zhang Tieshan, the 'Wind-Splitting Saber,' a top-tier swordsman in the martial world, with extremely fast swordsmanship!"

Before he finished speaking, Zhang Tieshan had already made his move.

His movement to draw his sword was so fast it was almost invisible. A bright flash of light shot out from his waist, slashing straight at Li Fu's left knee. He was going to sever both of Li Fu's legs and cut his Achilles tendons, just as Fan Taisui had instructed.

This strike was swift and ruthless, with a fierce and powerful aura, the blade flashing out like a bolt of lightning.

However, Li Fu merely turned slightly to the side, his feet seemingly not moving at all, and the blade of light grazed past the hem of his clothes, striking empty air.

Zhang Tieshan's first strike missed, but his expression remained unchanged. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a second horizontal slash, the blade flashing like a whirlwind as it hurtled toward Li Fu's right knee.

Li Fu remained as leisurely as ever, leaning slightly back as the blade grazed past him without even tearing his clothes.

Zhang Tieshan unleashed three swift strikes, each as fast as lightning, the blades weaving together into a silver net that completely enveloped Li Fu.

But within that net of blades, Li Fu's figure seemed illusory, sometimes shifting to the left, sometimes swaying to the right, sometimes slightly turning to the side. Every blade landed just an inch in front of him, yet not even a scrap of clothing was touched.

Moreover, while making these dodges, he remained standing still, making it difficult to tell whether he had actually moved or if one's eyes were playing tricks on them.

If he didn't move, how could he have dodged the successive swift blows? But if he did move, how come he was still standing in the same spot after several blows, seemingly without moving at all?

Zhang Tieshan's expression finally changed.

He has practiced swordsmanship for over twenty years, and his rapid, continuous sword strikes are executed flawlessly. No one has ever been able to dodge his blade with such ease.

But the person in front of him clearly didn't move an inch, yet his figure seemed illusory, causing all of his sword moves to miss. What an astonishing lightness skill this was!

Zhang Tieshan's grip on the knife tightened slightly, a bead of cold sweat appearing on his forehead as he stared at Li Fu: "You—what kind of movement technique is that?"

""

Li Fu stood with his hands behind his back, giving him a faint, sidelong glance.

With just that one glance, Zhang Tieshan inexplicably felt an invisible pressure bearing down on him, as if a mountain were collapsing, making it hard for him to breathe, and giving him a feeling that he was about to be crushed to pieces.

Having honed his swordsmanship for over twenty years, Zhang Tieshan considered himself one of the best in the martial arts world.

But the person standing there was like an insurmountable mountain, giving him a sense of despair from which he had no way to start, and he unconsciously wanted to retreat and run away.

But then he thought of the Prince of Nankang's mansion behind him, and Zhang Tieshan gritted his teeth and roared, drawing his sword again!

This time, he held back, pushing the Splashing Wind Blade Technique to its limit. The blade light poured out like a storm, unleashing twenty-seven consecutive strikes in one go.

The twenty-seven cuts seemed to strike simultaneously, engulfing Li Fu's legs, knees, ankles, and other vital points.

"It's fast enough."

Unfortunately, besides being fast, it has no other advantages.

Li Fu finally made his move, his right index and middle fingers shooting out with lightning speed, precisely clamping the middle of the blade amidst the swirling sword light.

With a soft clang, Zhang Tieshan's series of twenty-seven consecutive slashes came to an abrupt halt.

He struggled to grab it back, but the knife remained unmoved, as if it were welded between Li Fu's two fingers.

Li Fu gently bent two fingers.

With a crisp snap, the finely crafted steel knife broke in two.

With a flick of his wrist, the broken blade tip traced a lightning-fast arc and pierced Zhang Tieshan's right shoulder blade with a soft thud.

Zhang Tieshan grunted and stumbled back several steps, his right arm hanging limply at his sides, blood trickling down his arm and dripping onto the bluestone ground. He could barely hold the knife in his hand.

"Who are you...?"

He had practiced swordsmanship his whole life, yet his weapon was snapped in two by his opponent's fingers, and with a casual flick of his wrist, his right arm, which he used to wield the sword, was crippled.

Li Fu looked at him and said in a flat tone: "The lives of those in the martial arts world, living on the edge of death and never knowing when to rise, are certainly not something people like."

But with your abilities, is being someone else's lackey the only way to make a living?

"I'll show you another way out now."

Go home and farm.

"Are you saying that a swordsman whose arm is crippled and who can't even hold a sword can't go home and farm?"

"But—no—no!"

Zhang Tieshan's body trembled violently, whether from excruciating pain or rage, it was hard to tell.

He handed the broken blade to his left hand, roared, and pounced on Li Fu.

The power of the strike had been greatly diminished; all that could be seen was the bitter resentment and hatred of having his arm crippled.

"Stubborn and obstinate."

Li Fu was telling the truth. If Zhang Tieshan knew what was good for him and left, he would only lose an arm and could save his life.

However, Zhang Tieshan's lifelong swordsmanship and martial arts skills, which he relied on for survival, were crippled. How could he remain calm? He was filled with resentment and, even after switching his hand to a sword, he still attacked.

With a casual flick of his wrist, as if shooing away a fly, a white rainbow of palm force shot out, tracing an arc that bypassed the broken blade Zhang Tieshan was thrusting at, and struck him squarely in the face.

Zhang Tieshan was struck as if by a heavy hammer, his entire body was sent flying backward, blood gushing from his mouth, several teeth breaking off, and he crashed heavily several feet away, rolling twice before falling still and motionless, his fate unknown.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence.

Xue Ning's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape, and she was speechless for a moment.

He knew better than anyone how formidable Zhang Tieshan was. Just now, when he fought Zhang Tieshan, he was defeated in just a few moves, unable to even see the opponent's sword path.

But Li Fu stood there, barely moving his feet, and crippled Zhang Tieshan's arm with just two fingers, sending him flying with a casual wave of his hand.

This level of martial arts skill was completely beyond his imagination.

On the high platform, the remaining three retainers of the Prince's mansion simultaneously turned solemn.

Although Zhang Tieshan was the weakest in martial arts among the four, he was still a renowned master in the martial arts world, having been chosen by Princess Fan to protect her younger brother.

Yet this person was easily defeated by that young man as if he were playing a game.

The three exchanged a glance, then stepped forward in unison, blocking the slightly stunned Fan Taisui.

The man on the left was tall and slender, with a fair complexion and no beard. He appeared to be in his early forties and wore a moon-white long robe. A long sword hung at his waist, its scabbard as black as ink, while the tassel was blood-red. The contrast between the red and black was extremely eye-catching.

The moment this person stood there, a chilling sword aura quietly spread out, his clothes fluttering without wind. He spoke first, his words unhurried yet carrying a subtle, compelling killing intent.

"I am Lin Shu, the swordsman of Yandang Mountain. I practiced swordsmanship on Yandang Mountain for twenty years when I was young. My friends in the martial arts world have been kind to me and have given me this name."

He paused slightly, his gaze falling on Li Fu.

"May I ask who you are, esteemed master?"

He crippled someone with his bare hands; this matter won't be resolved in just a few words.

Since they dared to step forward, they should at least have a name.

The man on the right is a burly, strong man with thick beard and hair like a lion's mane, and his eyes are piercing. He has bare arms with muscles that are as bulging as the roots of an old tree, and each arm is tattooed with a lifelike black dragon coiled on it.

He replied in a booming voice.

"I am Luo Kuohai, the Subduer of the Dragon."

"Your actions are indeed remarkable, but Luzhou City is not some other place. The affairs of the Prince of Nankang's residence are not something anyone can interfere in."

"Amitabha."

The middle-aged monk in the gray robe, with a gaunt face and high brow bones, looked at Li Fu. He slowly extended his hands from his sleeves, gently twirling a string of iron-gray prayer beads on his wrist. He uttered a Buddhist chant, seemingly with a hint of repentance, as if he were to apologize to Buddha in advance for breaking his vows by fighting with someone.

"This humble monk is Xintong. You are a highly skilled martial artist and must not be an unknown person."

We would appreciate it if you could tell us your name, so that we can have an explanation.

The three men's words conveyed the same message: politeness masking a sharp edge. The affairs of the Prince of Nankang's residence were not something anyone could interfere with.

It's clear that Li Fu is no ordinary person. Let's see if he's worthy of our attention by revealing his name.

This is the rule of the underworld: before taking action, one must announce one's name and identity. If three people have announced their names, then anyone who is respected should immediately follow suit.

But to their surprise, Li Fu glanced at them and said indifferently, "What kind of nobody dares to ask my name?"

How rude and contemptible this is!

Upon hearing this, the expressions of the three people changed simultaneously.

Luo Kuohai, the Subduing Dragon Hand, was as fiery as a raging fire and was the first to lose his temper, letting out a furious roar.

"You arrogant brat! Let me show you my Subduing Dragon Hand!"

Before he finished speaking, he strode forward, his right arm swung, and the black dragon tattoo on his arm seemed to come alive. A thick arm suddenly grew, its five fingers like hooks, and with a powerful wind as heavy as a mountain, it grabbed down at Li Fu's head!

With this grab, a faint hissing sound emanated from between the five fingers; it could even crush a piece of iron.

Li Fu remained expressionless, his right hand forming a knife-like shape as he casually made a slash.

This stroke was light and effortless, like a gentle touch in spring water, yet the blade's energy burst forth, carrying a cold and sharp intent.

Luo Kuohai felt a chill in his palm, and before he could even touch Li Fu, an invisible blade of energy rushed towards him.

His expression changed, and he hurriedly withdrew his palm. Looking down, he saw a bloody gash about an inch long on his palm, with the skin and flesh rolled back and blood seeping out.

Luo Kuohai was shocked: "You have no knife in your hand, where did this sword aura come from?"