Reborn Song Qingshu: Besieging Bright Peak at the Start

"Senior brother, catch the sword!"

The first disciple swiftly flipped his wrist, his longsword reversed, the blade resting against his arm, the hilt facing forward, and with a flick of his fingertips, the three-foot-long sword was thrown out horizontally.

The sword strike was steady and focused, aiming directly at Song Qingshu's right hand.

Song Qingshu kept his eyes straight ahead, swiftly reached back and gripped the hilt of the sword with his knuckles, then lowered his wrist and brought the blade down.

"Zheng—"

A clear whistle, like the cry of a crane in the sky, rang out as the sword blade hung obliquely at his side, its cold light reflecting off the ground.

He stood there, like a famous sword that had just been drawn from its sheath, its sharpness just beginning to show, yet possessing a calm and awe-inspiring presence.

He spoke calmly, "Song Qingshu of Wudang, what are your thoughts, gentlemen?"

The people opposite them were amazed to see the young Taoist priest with his hand on his long sword and a calm expression, who was no less impressive than the Seven Heroes of Wudang.

Despite their stunning appearance, they wouldn't forget why they came here in the first place.

Then one of the dozen or so men in the lead spoke, his voice sharp and piercing:

"Zhang Sanfeng is truly a grandmaster, always hiding behind his disciples and grand-disciples. I admire you! If you have the guts, step forward and exchange a few blows with us. Today, my Ming Cult will flatten Wudang and use you, old Taoist, as a sacrifice for our flag."

Although he was wary of Zhang Sanfeng's power, he still braced himself and provoked him in order to test whether Gang Xiang's sneak attack had succeeded.

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd behind him started shouting and swearing, with foul language rising and falling, all behaving like low-class hooligans.

The Wudang disciples were all furious, their knuckles clenched so tightly that they turned white. Several people in the front row couldn't hold back and were about to step forward with their swords, but Song Qingshu gently stopped them by raising his left hand slightly.

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He raised his eyes and glanced at the person who had spoken. This person was one of the three who had shouted from the Purple Cloud Palace earlier.

He had already given the order to kill these three men in his heart, but he couldn't act rashly. The Ming Cult heroes hadn't arrived yet, so a balance of power couldn't be formed.

Killing this person would be easy for him, but once he made a move, the situation would inevitably spiral out of control. With the enemy attacking in droves and outnumbering him, there would certainly be casualties among the ordinary disciples of Wudang, which was something he did not want to see.

We need to wait for the right opportunity, or guide it gradually.

He spoke calmly as always:

Wudang has been established for a century and has always emphasized courtesy before resorting to force.

Since you have come up the mountain under the banner of the Ming Cult, you should make yourselves clear.

The six major sects and the Ming Cult had just resolved their feud at Bright Peak, so how could there be any talk of "flattening Wudang"?

I know a few of the leaders of the Ming Cult, but I don't know which hall or banner you belong to, or who you are under the command of.

Or... is it just an imposter?

Several questions were thrown at him in quick succession, but this man, who was actually a henchman of the Yuan Dynasty in disguise, couldn't answer them at all. He was speechless for a long time before finally shouting:

"Enough nonsense! We're here today to destroy your Wudang sect, what's with all the arguing!"

"To act without reason is the act of bandits."

Song Qingshu's lips curled slightly, his tone turning colder.

"Thieves like you dare ask my master for help?"

He slightly twisted his wrist, and the longsword drew a semi-circle in front of him, its cold light sweeping across the crowd opposite him:

"If you wish to storm the Purple Cloud Palace, you must first pass this sword in my hand. If you defeat me, my master will naturally intervene. It's just a pity..."

He paused, his eyes flashing with disdain, and said casually, "In my opinion, you might not even be able to get past me."

As soon as the words were spoken, the Wudang disciples responded with a resounding roar, the sound shaking the hall doors.

His plan was either to stall for time or to provoke the other party into a one-on-one fight.

In short, if you can fight one-on-one, don't gang up on others.

In the center of the Sanqing Hall, Zhang Sanfeng stroked his beard and nodded, his eyes full of approval.

His Wudang spirit is never about shouting and clamoring, but about remaining calm and composed even when Mount Tai collapses before him.

Qing Shu has finally grown up.

A commotion broke out in the enemy ranks, with everyone shouting that this kid was far too arrogant.

The man who spoke exchanged glances with the other leaders beside him. Their original plan was to first determine whether Zhang Sanfeng was injured. If he was injured, they could simply swarm him and accomplish their goal.

But how did this young upstart suddenly appear and interfere? It's really troublesome.

It wasn't that I was afraid of this kid, but I was worried that if we dragged things out with him, it would give Zhang Sanfeng a chance to recover his strength, which would inevitably cause trouble.

They were all thinking to themselves, "Why don't we just launch a coordinated attack?"

It would be best if Zhang Sanfeng were ambushed and severely injured.

If he hadn't been injured, he might not have been able to kill all three or four hundred of us by himself.

After considering this, no one dared to step forward rashly.

If the stalemate continues, morale will collapse.

The person who spoke made a firm decision and was about to wave his hand to order a mass attack, using sheer numbers to overwhelm the Wudang formation.

Song Qingshu frowned. This other party wasn't stupid; it seemed a bloody battle was inevitable.

At that very moment, when the arrow was on the bowstring and ready to be released.

Suddenly, someone outside the door called out, "The leader has arrived!"

The people in the hall immediately fell silent. The dozen or so people at the head rushed out of the hall to greet them, and the rest followed quickly out of the hall.

In an instant, the tense atmosphere that had just been filled with hostility vanished, and the hundreds of people in the hall were gone.

The sound of more than ten people's footsteps approached from afar and stopped outside the hall.

Looking out from the palace gate, Song Qingshu saw eight people carrying a large yellow satin sedan chair.

There were seven or eight other guards standing in front and behind, and the eight sedan chair bearers were the "Eight Heroes of Divine Arrows" from Green Willow Manor.

Wow, quite the grand spectacle!

The sedan curtain was slowly lifted, and a young man in brocade robes stepped out, gently waving a white jade folding fan in his hand.

He was already handsome, and the white robe made him even more strikingly beautiful. Who else could he be but Zhao Min, disguised as a man?

She walked into the hall, flanked by a group of experts, with the rest following behind. She stood in front of the Wudang formation, and a subordinate brought a chair and placed it behind her.

She sat down in the chair, her gaze falling on Song Qingshu.

The folding fan snapped shut, and he spoke in a clear voice:

"I wondered who had such courage to stand guard at the gate of Wudang Mountain alone."

So this is the young swordsman Song, known in the martial arts world as "Jade-Faced Mengchang." Meeting him today, he truly lives up to his name, possessing a truly admirable character!

Song Qingshu's lips twitched slightly. This girl was mocking me.

He held his sword and slightly bowed, his expression cold and aloof: "You flatter me!"

Your Excellency? He called me Your Excellency?!

Zhao Min, who had been aloof, suddenly lost her composure. Who had taken the initiative to provoke her under the willow tree? Who had left behind the poem? And what about inside the dungeon... Even now, the thought of it still made her feel strange.

She suddenly stood up from her chair, coldly questioning, her tone filled with unspeakable grievance: "What...what did you call me?"

As she spoke, a misty light appeared in her eyes.

The experts around him were all stunned. What was going on?

Judging from the master's tone, he seems to be an old acquaintance of this third-generation disciple of Wudang.

The crowd simply looked at each other, but no one dared to speak.

The Eight Heroes of Divine Arrows standing behind Zhao Min knew exactly what was going on!

They wished they could skin the boy alive. Since that day, they often saw the princess lost in thought, and occasionally she would chuckle.

Needless to say, she was definitely thinking about that lecherous scoundrel from Wudang.

Damn it, you're standing here all high and mighty, saying "Your Excellency" you should get up!

While they dared not utter a sound, the Wudang disciples paid little attention, as they all had a harmonious relationship with Senior Brother Song and kept whispering among themselves.

"Hey, hey, hey, their cult leader seems to be a woman?"

"I get the feeling that there's something going on between her and her senior brother..."

"That's right, that's right..."

……

Behind the main hall, Zhang Wuji was whispering something in his master's ear.

Zhang Sanfeng stroked his beard and nodded repeatedly.

Although Yu Sanxia was physically disabled, his gossip spirit remained, and he kept straining his ears to listen.

What should have been a tense standoff took a turn for the worse because of a single sentence from Zhao Min.

Hearing the whispers of his fellow disciples behind him, and glancing at Zhao Min's slightly reddened eyes, Song Qingshu finally let out a soft sigh:

"Miss Zhao, how have you been?"