With virtue

Just as he expected, his clothes, combined with his appearance, intimidated the group.

The young master not only didn't pursue the matter, but also left a silver ingot as a deposit for the next night, giving them both face and substance.

Zhao Yunshu breathed a sigh of relief, planning to go back to his room and continue his long sleep once the others had gone far away.

Unexpectedly, a change of events occurred at this moment.

Suddenly, the young master lightly touched the ground, defying gravity and soaring three zhang high like a white crane taking flight. In mid-air, he unfolded his fan, flipped his body, and swooped down on Zhao Yunshu like a hawk.

It happened so fast, so quickly, that no one could blink. The oil lamp in the hall was swept by the strong wind, and its flame suddenly went out, causing the light and shadow in the whole hall to flicker.

Zhao Yunshu's pupils contracted sharply, and his right hand moved behind him almost instinctively. The iron sword was drawn from its sheath with a whoosh, and the blade flashed coldly in the dim light!

The sword and fan clashed, and a sharp, piercing "clang" was heard, barely managing to block the falling folding fan.

Despite managing to block the attack, Zhao Yunshu felt an immense force surge from the sword, causing a sudden, sharp pain in his hand. He could barely grip the hilt and was pushed back five or six steps by the force, his back slamming against the wall with a thud, crushing a piece of the blue brick beneath his feet.

He reacted very quickly, using the force of the wall to push off and dissipate the remaining force, barely managing to steady himself.

When I looked up at the iron sword in my hand again, the blade was still buzzing and vibrating incessantly!

The folding fan in the young master's hand was made of some unknown material. Despite its hard impact with the iron sword, not a single mark was left on the fan's surface.

The young master had just made his move, but he didn't stop. He moved swiftly, giving Zhao Yun no chance to catch his breath.

He lightly touched the ground with his toes, and his whole body floated to Zhao Yunshu's side. He folded his fan and pointed it straight at Zhao Yunshu's throat.

Zhao Yunshu hurriedly parried with his sword, but before the folding fan reached his face, it suddenly sank, changing from a point to a sweep, aiming straight for his chest. This change of move was both accurate and ruthless.

The young Taoist priest couldn't dodge in time and could only crouch down to cover his head in defense, managing to escape in a sorry state.

Having gained the upper hand in one move, the young master was unwilling to give up. He opened and closed his folding fan, which, when opened, resembled a white crane spreading its wings, covering Zhao Yunshu's face. When closed, it was like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, targeting his vital points. The fan was so dense and intricate that it trapped Zhao Yunshu in a small space, forcing him to defend himself and leaving him in a sorry state. He had nowhere to go, and although his iron sword was sharp, it couldn't even touch the corner of his opponent's clothes. Instead, he was hit three or four times by the fan ribs.

He lightly touched his shoulder, his wrist, and his knee, but all of these were just light touches, without any force, exuding an air of superiority.

The young Taoist's rudimentary skills were no match for his opponent.

Driven to desperation, Zhao Yunshu gritted his teeth, feigned an opening, and pretended to lose his left shoulder. The young master swiftly swung his folding fan, about to strike.

But then he suddenly threw down his iron sword and smashed his liver and gallbladder!

"ha!"

A thunderous roar!

The bowls and plates on the table jumped up all at once, the wine pot shattered with a bang, and wine splashed everywhere.

The young master was the first to be hit. Although he was not a ghost and would not be affected by yang energy, the sound still made him dizzy. He felt a buzzing in his head, as if a giant bell was hitting his ear. He saw stars and staggered. The smile on his face froze.

The young Taoist priest continued his rituals, waving his left hand and unleashing a burst of scorching heat that transformed into a ball of crimson flames, hurtling straight towards the young master's face.

If I get burned, I'm afraid I'll end up bald.

Although the young master was stunned by the thunderous sound, his martial instincts remained. Sensing the heat wave hitting his face, he shielded his face with his fan, pushed off with his feet, and darted backward.

Then the young Taoist priest suddenly stepped forward and kicked the other person away.

The young master stumbled back several steps, his back slamming into the table behind him, smashing the food and wine to pieces. Soup dripped onto his silk robe, leaving him looking quite disheveled.

These few moves were so swift and dazzling that they took only a few breaths to complete.

The hall fell silent for a moment, with only the flickering lamp threatening to go out, casting its light on the messy floor.

The young master glared angrily at Zhao Yunshu.

Zhao Yunshu glared back.

Both sides were simultaneously alarmed.

He turned out to be a Taoist sorcerer who had entered the sect!

He was actually a martial artist!

This young master is a martial artist!

Zhao Yunshu felt a chill run down his spine.

He originally thought this young master was just a rich and powerful playboy who indulged in eating, drinking and having fun outside because of his family background. Who would have thought that hidden under that silk robe was a body with muscles and bones that had been tempered and refined over a thousand years.

It's not like anyone can just have a smattering of skills and practice some farming techniques to call themselves a martial artist. Chen Wanchuan, who traveled all over the country and had some strength, was just an ordinary strong man in front of a real martial artist. He couldn't even touch the threshold.

"Martial arts master" is a term used to describe someone who has mastered martial arts skills and reached a high level of proficiency.

From the time of the Three Sovereigns and the Five Emperors, people have been exploring ways to strengthen their bodies and defend themselves. By the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, a hundred schools of thought emerged, and countless schools of arts and crafts arose throughout the world.

Later generations summarized the path of cultivation into the three religions, nine schools of thought, and a hundred schools of thought. But beyond these, there is a path that is the most widespread, has the lowest threshold, but is also the most arduous: martial arts.

If you want to learn martial arts, you must endure hardship, great hardship. You must train in the coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer, stand in stances until your legs feel like lead, and practice punches until your knuckles crack. The process of forging your physique is truly grueling.

To even begin one's journey, one must endure countless hardships and shed countless drops of sweat. Therefore, anyone who can be called a martial artist is invariably a person of unwavering willpower.

That's why Zhao Yunshu was even more surprised.

This young master has fair skin and a life of luxury. He doesn't look like someone who has ever suffered such hardship. Yet, his martial arts skills are solid and genuine, not just for show. How did he train like that? And what is his background?

Thinking of this, Zhao Yunshu stared at the other person, looking him up and down.

The young master put away his folding fan and began to sized up the young Taoist priest.

The young Taoist priest was wary, even more so than when dealing with the monk Yuanmeng.

The reason is also very simple.

People like Zhao Yunshu cultivate their qi and spirit, whether through meditation and breathing exercises or by absorbing the qi of heaven and earth, seeking to transcend the mortal body and understand yin and yang.

Martial artists, on the other hand, rely on tempering their muscles and bones, and refining their qi and blood. Once they have mastered this skill, their fists can shatter stones, their palms can split monuments, and they can leap several meters in a single bound. Wherever their power goes, even metal and stone will crumble.

In close combat, practitioners without talismans or magical artifacts for protection are often no match for martial artists. By the time you finish making hand seals and chanting incantations, the opponent's punch has already reached your face.

Moreover... martial artists are not easy to deal with these days.

In the past, martial artists were just ordinary practitioners, but occasionally they became prominent because they were indispensable in the founding of a nation and often held high positions in the imperial court.

However, from the late Tang Dynasty to the present, the status of military men has risen steadily, but their reputation has declined day by day.

The reason is not hard to imagine: nowadays, the regional warlords are in power, and which of the military governors who hold heavy troops are not military men?

But it was precisely these warriors who fought each other, leaving the land desolate and the fields littered with bones, tearing the Tang Dynasty to pieces. Now, when people mention warriors, they think of war, plunder, and extortion, and they fear them like tigers and wolves.

When the young Taoist priest saw a martial artist, he naturally thought of all sorts of bad things.

Seeing the young Taoist's expression, the white-robed gentleman chuckled, "What, you're intimidated by my martial arts skills? Don't worry, since I just gave you face, I won't go back on my word. I just want to test your abilities."

"Today, most of the wealthy and powerful are martial artists, but it seems you've only mastered a few techniques. Your swordsmanship is so-so, and your fist and foot techniques are even more mediocre. However, that thunderous sound and fire magic confirm your identity as a cultivator. It's truly rare for a cultivator to have such wealth. Which grand sect are you a true disciple of? What brings you to Dingzhou? Could it be that you've come to capture the Ghost General Zhou Heng?"

The young Taoist priest was startled.

Ok?

Does he know the Ghost General Zhou Heng?