Unparalleled medical and martial arts skills, saving the CEO's fiancée at the start.

The white lanterns swayed gently in the wind, like a row of weightless ghost faces.

When Ye Chen stepped onto the shallow water, it was up to his ankles and so cold it made his skin numb.

He walked slowly, each step very steadily.

The temple gates were wide open, and the shrine inside was still empty, except for a black ceramic lamp in front of it. The flame was pitifully small, but it had a faint blue glow, like a cold light seeping from the ground.

Old Jiu sat on the old wooden chair behind that lamp.

He was even thinner than he was on the night of the Water Festival, as if something had drained most of his spirit. He was wrapped in a dark red robe, like an old incense stick stuck in the mud.

Behind him stood two old men, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the left held two cymbals larger than his face in his hands, while the one on the right had a soft knife tucked into his waistband, the scabbard hanging limply like a dead snake.

Ye Chen entered the temple and stood seven steps away from Jiu Laoqi. He quickly observed the surrounding environment.

The ghost servant followed a step behind him, the iron ruler hidden in his sleeve, his aura extremely heavy.

Old Jiu raised his eyelids; his eyes were so cloudy they had no light at all, like two old beads that had been soaked and rotted by the river mist.

But Ye Chen only glanced at him before feeling a sudden throbbing in his temple.

Remembering what the ghost servant had said, Ye Chen immediately shifted his gaze to the blue flame and stopped looking at Elder Jiu.

"Ye Chen, not bad, young and courageous, just like your father, with integrity." Old Jiu's voice was like something rising from the bottom of the water, both cold and gentle.

"Wen Jiuhong is dead, and the Black Iron Token is now in your hands. You are just like your father, someone who refuses to leave any room for others."

Ye Chen said, "My father left you some leeway back then, what did you leave him?"

Old Jiu let out a "heh," which sounded like laughter, but also like a breath squeezed out of his throat.

He said slowly, "I left him a son. Isn't that enough leeway?"

Ye Chen's sword rang out with a "clang," and he was sent flying.

Almost simultaneously, the ghost servants lunged at the old man on the left who was wielding cymbals. The iron ruler collided with the cymbals, causing dust to fall all over the temple.

The man on the right wielding the soft knife let out a strange cry, and the blade flashed like a white snake, slanting towards Ye Chen's ribs.

Ye Chen didn't even look at it. He swung his sword backhand and cut the soft knife in half. He took another half step forward, and the tip of his sword was pointed directly at Elder Jiu.

Old Jiu remained seated, but his foot slipped, and he and his chair shifted half a foot to the left.

Ye Chen's sword strike missed its mark, so he swept it horizontally, sending the old candlesticks in front of the shrine flying. In the blue light of the black pottery lamps, they looked like several birds with broken wings.

Old Master Jiu finally stood up.

His presence seemed to sink the entire temple.

Ye Chen felt an immense pressure from the opposite side, as if he were standing in front of a sudden surge of cold air.

No matter how fast his sword was, it was as if he had plunged into a flowing black mist.

Old Jiu had no weapon, only a withered hand outstretched, its five fingers spread wide, the tips of which were tinged with a very faint blue.

Ye Chen blocked with his sword, and the blue light struck the sword, producing an extremely sharp and delicate screech, as if something inside the sword had been burned.

Ye Chen was so shocked that he staggered back several steps, his vest slamming against the door, and his vision went black for a moment.

"Ye Chen, you are far inferior to your father. You still need to practice more." Old Jiu walked towards him, his footsteps so light that they made no sound, as if he were floating in the air.

Ye Chen did not answer, but instead lowered his sword stance, took a step forward, and suddenly turned out from the side, circled behind Elder Jiu, and slashed at the black pottery lamp with his sword.

Elder Jiu clearly hadn't expected Ye Chen to cut the lamp first.

He turned around and struck with his palm. Ye Chen took the blow to the shoulder, but the tip of his sword still touched the flame.

The blue flame went out with a "poof".

The temple suddenly darkened, with only a few streaks of white lantern light shining through the door.

Old Jiu finally let out a deep, angry snort, as if it had been squeezed out from the depths of the earth.

The blue light around him also weakened, and Ye Chen felt the pressure ease instantly. When he sent out the sword again, he was able to tear through the layer of aura around Elder Jiu.

He knew that the blue flame was the "Yin Water Armor" of the old man, and that the armor would weaken when the lamp went out.

Outside the temple, Han Song and Song Tiezhu had already led their men in a fierce battle with the Blackwater Knife Hands.

The dull thud of boats colliding and Aygul's soft shout came from the river.

Five shadows also emerged from the side, like an old knife that was thirty years overdue, plunging straight into Old Man Jiu's back.

With Ye Chen in front and Wu Ying behind, Elder Jiu turned around in two steps, brushed aside Wu Ying's knife with one sleeve, and grabbed Ye Chen's sword with the other.

The blade cut his palm, and the blood that flowed out was a very pale blue-black.

Old Jiu seemed completely oblivious to the pain; instead, he gripped the sword and pulled Ye Chen into his arms.

Ye Chen gritted his teeth and refused to let go of his sword. He then delivered a knee strike, but it was blocked by Elder Jiu's leg. The two fought hand-to-hand in the temple, their blows landing squarely.

Ye Chen had been hit countless times, his mouth filled with a metallic taste, but he didn't budge an inch.

Ye Chen knew that if he backed down tonight, all those people behind him would die.

"Stop the water flow," Ye Chen suddenly shouted.

He did not retreat further. Instead, before Elder Jiu could strike with his next palm, he channeled all the remaining strength in his body into his sword.

In that instant, it felt as if all the air in the temple had been sucked out.

When the withered sword slashed down, there was no wind, no light, only an extremely thin and dark streak.

Old Master Jiu's pupils contracted sharply, and he pushed forward with both palms, channeling all the protective energy he had accumulated over decades into his chest.

But that black blade, like a knife cutting through water, sliced ​​straight through his palm and pierced his front.

Time seemed to freeze for half a second, and then Old Man Jiu fell backward, crashing into the old wooden chair and shattering it.

The black ceramic lamp rolled to the ground and shattered into several pieces.

Old Jiu lay on his back among the broken wood and lamp shards, a deep gash in his chest from which blood slowly seeped out, dark red, as if he had finally returned to human color.

He stared at the top of the temple with his eyes open.

It was covered with cobwebs, like an old web that had been matted for many years.

He suddenly chuckled very softly and said, "Ye Chen, your father used the same move back then, only half an inch different, but you were faster than him."

Ye Chen knelt on one knee, leaning on his sword, blood flowing from his forehead and dripping onto Elder Jiu's side.

He wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

The ghost servant staggered over, pressed on Old Man Jiu's pulse, and whispered, "Uncle Ghost, it's no use now."

Ye Chen then sat down amidst the scattered wood shards and closed his eyes.

Outside the temple, the sounds of fighting had gradually subsided.

Wu Ying stood at the doorway, holding a broken sword in half. Moonlight shone in from behind, making him look like a ghost that had crawled back from the underworld.

Han Song was calling for people to take inventory.

Aygul ran into the temple, saw that Ye Chen was still alive, her lips trembled, and she quickly retreated to spread the news.

Ye Chen raised his hand and took out the sachet from his pocket.

It was soaked in sweat and blood during the fight, but the slightly bitter and spicy taste remained.

He brought it to his nose, and suddenly his mind became extremely calm.

"Jiang Ruoxi is still waiting at the valley entrance," the ghost servant reminded Ye Chen.

Ye Chen nodded and struggled to his feet.

He knew that Jiang Ruoxi must be waiting anxiously.

Wait until the fog clears, wait for him to come home.

He left all his blood and debts in the river wind.