In Yang Ping's entire life, what he hated the most was other people calling him "disabled." Gan Qing's jab at him made him swell up in anger like a pufferfish and he got over his psychological fear of Wan Mu Chun on the spot.

He charged at Gan Qing like a demon, wanting to flatten her.

At the same time, Gan Qing skidded backwards. Her steps were not as light as Qiao-Qiao's, her feet didn't really lift up from the ground and were instead dragging along, but each step gave her just enough space to avoid Yang Ping's oncoming fist and the wind from his strikes. It seemed like she was unwilling to use even an ounce more energy than was strictly necessary.

Stirred up by her feet, the feather-light dust and fallen leaves danced along with the wind.

Yang Ping suddenly took out a retractable baton from his sleeve and swung it horizontally at Gan Qing's chest. Gan Qing bent backwards, the corners of her old and pilling coat flying up like a flower suddenly bursting into bloom. At the same time, Yu Lanchuan's golf club lunged in from the side and smashed on the retractable baton.

Gan Qing let out a carefree laugh. "Did I step on your tail, Senior Yang? Right off the bat, you want to smash a crater in this flat ground… Ow!"

Yang Ping pushed the long baton up with both hands, forcing Yu Lanchuan to retreat a few steps. Yu Lanchuan had gotten an earful of Gan Qing's nonsensical blabber and lost his focus for a second and in his fluster, he stepped on her foot.

The tip of Gan Qing's shoe was flattened by him and she hopped about on one foot. Her bearing of an expert vanished without a trace. "Little Master Yu, whose side are you on!"

Yu Lanchuan didn't have the time to pay her any attention. He was quickly switching techniques.

The Seven Secret Arts of Han Jiang were originally sword techniques for the heavy sword and had a touch of being unconcerned with fine and meticulous details^[1]. It did not suit Little Master Yu's fancy temperament—this handsome guy had to face the mirror even when practising on the balcony; his swordplay could be imperfect but his pose could not.

Thus, his Seven Secret Arts of Han Jiang had always been full of confident ease and agility, and lacked some of the original intention of the sword techniques.

But now, the heavy golf club was impeding his performance, forcing him to simplify his actions. Yang Ping was also an expert that he rarely encountered in his life. As he parried move with move, he faintly sensed something he had never sensed before. He was getting a peek of his distinguished forefathers fishing in a cold river accompanied by snow, the space vast and lonely and tranquil. From the place where all life was cut off, he gazed from far at the days and nights flowing by and his heart suddenly calmed.

In actual fact, all schools of martial arts were not about learning how to move one's limbs by rote. Their teachings had been handed down through thousands of years until this day and each had their own way of thinking, most of which could be summarised as "Heaven and Earth, mountains and rivers; mortal affairs come and go." This was the very first lesson taught when the shifus passed down their skills. It was just that the first lesson was like the introduction to a subject; it seemed to highlight all the important points but was actually not important at all. As the students learned more and more, eventually, it was forgotten.

To compete and see who was more powerful and who was better at fighting could already be considered to "not forget one's original aspirations." There were even more people who not only pursued a "reputation," but also desired to gather the authority and profit behind that reputation into their arms.

Holding those things in their arms as they descended into madness and obsession, not stopping before they reached death.

With a flick of her fingers, Gan Qing sent a small blade flying towards Yang Ping's neck. The throat was a person's vital spot. Yang Ping dodged instinctively and the small blade brushed past his front lapel to bounce off Yu Lanchuan's golf club. Yu Lanchuan lightly batted away the blade; it changed directions and was again caught in Gan Qing's hand.

Yang Ping seized the golf club with both hands. Before he could get his balance, the small blade coming for his life sealed off the space he had to move around in. Yang Ping let out a roar. He had just shook her off when Yan Hao swung the rod at his legs.

The way these three people fought was to fight while distracting him at the same time. They all knew that there was a gap between their skills and Yang Ping's. No one tangled with him; they just came forward to poke at him and then ran while someone else took their place. They were not letting him get away but were also not directly crossing swords with him.

Yang Ping clenched his teeth. He could tell that these brats were really trying in vain to keep him there and wait for the police to arrive.

The short baton in his hands transformed into a shadowy blur, spinning and knocking aside Yu Lanchuan's golf club. He brushed past Yu Lanchuan; then, his short baton suddenly extended a few inches and knocked accurately on Yan Hao's wrist. Yan Hao's wrist turned numb and his weapon slipped out of his hand.

However, Gan Qing was much more quick-witted than the other two. She did not exchange moves with him at all. From beginning to end, her little blades flew unceasingly to block Yang Ping's path, looking like shadows taking physical form, giving the other two time to catch up to Yang Ping.

Yang Ping stabbed the short baton into the ground and stood firm a meter away from her. He suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Wan Mu Chun who exists everywhere, for whom no gap is impenetrable, doesn't even dare to fight openly and directly with others now!"

Gan Qing answered, unperturbed, "I don't have a choice, I'm disabled now."

The corner of one Yang Ping's eyes twitched. He spied Yan Hao and Yu Lanchuan surrounding him warily and said slowly, "Back then, Wei Xiao signed the life-and-death pledge before the match and it stated that it was to be a one versus many match. Even though he wasn't anything good, at the very least, he knew to value his reputation. If he knew that his descendant had turned from a hawk to a dog, who knows how he would feel."

Gan Qing had muddled her way through life to her current state and it had been a long time since she had a delicate and transparent heart of glass. She could even thrive as a "witch" and was very obstinate. Neither soft nor hard tactics worked on her. She did not fear being provoked and was also shameless, and did not care the least bit about his words. "How else could he feel? Probably just 'each generation is worse than the last,' your father's favourite phrase."

Yang Ping, "..."

On a daily basis, Yu Lanchuan was rendered so speechless by Gan Qing's words that he practically hopped in indignation. Now, he finally had the chance to watch her aim her barbs at someone else and there was an indescribable delight in his heart.

Gan Qing extended a sincere invitation. "What other personal attacks do you have? Please don't hesitate to share."

Both sides of Yang Ping's face tightened. Who knew what he was thinking, he suddenly laughed again. "You people want to delay time until the police get here. But when they do, so what?"

Yu Lanchuan said, "Nothing much. But if you want to attack the police the same way you attack us, the next wave will probably have guns with them."

"Let me be honest with you. Even if you catch me, it's not impossible for me to break out of jail if I want to," Yang Ping said with a sneer. "Even if I go with them obediently, what can they do to me? What offense did I commit? Injuring that little girl? She was the one who attacked me with a knife first. I only twisted her wrist that was holding the knife. I didn't even take her life. Did I cross the line?"

Gan Qing sensed something and her eyes turned cold.

"Join a criminal organisation? I've already been ousted from Beggars' Sect for eighteen years. Everyone, can I be dragged into Beggars' Sect matters?" Yang Ping retracted his baton and wedged it in the crook of his arm. "You people say that I burned so-and-so to death thirty years ago and that I killed so-and-so eighteen years ago. You sure know how to slander others, do you have proof?"

Qiao-Qiao struggled to her feet. The little mute girl opened her mouth and put all her strength into letting out an ahh.

Yang Ping couldn't be bothered to look at her. His murky gaze was locked on Gan Qing. "The bones of the dead have rotted into pieces. Wei Xiao's tiny and shitty house has also turned into a flat lawn long ago. If I don't admit anything, what can you do to me, huh? What can you do to Wang Jiusheng?"

Gan Qing's voice was suppressed in her hoarse throat. "So it was really Wang Jiusheng after all?"

"Who else could it be?" Yang Ping said. "That year, I was completely isolated. The cowards in Beggars' Sect were all busy licking the Old Sect Leader's feet, praising him for being fair and impartial. No one listened to my orders. Other than Travellers' Sect, who else could dig a meter into the ground and unearth Wei Xiao, that earthworm hiding in the soil?"

Gan Qing's fingers rubbed against the blade in her hand.

"How about that? Doesn't it make you want to kill Wang Jiusheng? Go ahead and kill him. After that, you'll be a wanted criminal and have to conceal your identity and live in hiding," Yang Ping said.

Yu Lanchuan said, "That is none of your business, you-"

Yang Ping raised his baton at Gan Qing, pointing at her as he said, "Why don't we make a bet?"

Gan Qing raised her eyes.

"Let all the irrelevant people leave. Then, you don't have to hide yourself anymore. Compare your skills against mine, let me experience for myself whether or not the legendary Paoding Jieniu still exists. If you lose, get lost and go back to being a cowardly turtle. If you ever find trouble with me again in your life, your shifu will descend to the eighteen levels of hell to be flayed and torn apart. He will never be reincarnated."

"And if I win?" Gan Qing asked.

Yang Ping seemed to be hearing a child's innocent and naive words and couldn't help smiling. "In that case, I will turn myself in to the police. I will even guarantee not to be the only unfortunate one, I will definitely drag Wang Jiusheng to be—my—buffer—."

Yu Lanchuan frowned. "Gan Qing…"

Gan Qing stopped him with a raised hand.

Yu Lanchuan said, "He only wants to get a chance to escape. Only an idiot will fall for his tricks!"

Gan Qing's eyes were locked on Yang Ping. She took out a cloth strip from her pocket and began winding it around her right hand.

Yu Lanchuan asked, "What are you doing?"

Gan Qing removed her coat and passed it to the trembling Qiao-Qiao. "I'm an idiot."

Yu Lanchuan had just been inwardly relieved; now, he was eating his words. He moved his legs to go forward but suddenly, something sliced through the air towards him. Yu Lanchuan's legs immediately paused. He slowly looked down… A small blade was nailed right on the front welt of his leather shoe!

"Be good, don't fuss," Gan Qing said lightly. "Otherwise, I'll need to spare some attention to deal with you."

Yang Ping bared his teeth into a smile. The three-versus-one situation would not happen again. Since Gan Qing had said that, she would really fight her own allies. When an expert of Yang Ping's caliber was surrounded by them, he could easily find a loophole and slip away if they did not coordinate well, much less if they fought among themselves. As long as Yu Lanchuan's side could still think rationally, the best option for them was to watch from the sidelines.

"You have guts. You really dare do this," Yang Ping said. "Back then, Wei Xiao was defeated by my hand."

"Wei Xiao was not defeated by your hand," Gan Qing said, pausing between each word. "He was defeated by Wang Jiusheng's hand. You were merely carrying out Wang Jiusheng's orders to collect a body. Also, the last person to use the same tone as you to say that I have guts was Wei Huan. His bones have long since been licked clean by maggots."

Yang Ping curled both hands into fists. Both his arms were flushed with blood. Under his coarse skin, his bulging veins appear increasingly vicious and that pair of hands looked a little purplish from far. Without warning, he struck first. This time, Gan Qing did not dodge to the right and left. There was a whistling sound; her blades and his retractable baton scraped against each other with a noise that made their teeth ache.

Yan Hao took a step back without realising. For a second, he felt as though the glint of the blade had flashed right before his eyes.

These bystanders watching the fight were born in a peaceful era and were for the first time in their lives truly feeling what was meant by a forbidding murderous aura. Yu Lanchuan and Yan Hao had both fought Gan Qing before. They knew she was powerful but speaking generally, it was the same kind of powerful as a schoolmate who always achieved Distinction in exams.

Yu Lanchuan had even once thought she was nothing more than a young woman who had taken the wrong step in life, who just had more petty tricks than others.

Now, he was finally realising that the "wrong step" the young woman had taken back then was killing Wei Huan with her own hands when she was seventeen years old.

Not a weak cat or dog that didn't even have the strength to truss up a chicken, but a man who had a heavy blood debt on his head, who was the epitome of evil, who was… her shixiong from the same sect.

Gan Qing had never been serious with them.

He was distracted for just a second and Yang Ping and Gan Qing had already brushed past each other. Yang Ping's short baton knocked against Gan Qing's ribs; at the same time, he turned his head away unnaturally. A small blade had sliced a small cut on his eyelid. If he hadn't closed his eyes in time, this cut would have landed on his eyeball.

Gan Qing bore the full force of that blow and her upper body swayed slightly. Her eyes that were slightly bloodshot from her cold seemed to reddened even further. She didn't let out a sound.

Her reaction had turned slow.

All these years, she had lived a muddled life, drifting wherever the waves brought her. Her mind was entirely filled with thoughts of getting skewers after work. Her knives had turned blunt, her hands weakened. Yu Lanchuan had assumed that he was dragging her back from the edge of law-breaking and crime, and had repeatedly had his heart in his throat due to her actions but in actual fact, there was no need… because when push came to shove, she might not be able to really make the lethal cut.

With the cloth strip wrapped around it, her right hand no longer shook. But as before, it didn't have the strength to lift up and it hung from her body like a prosthetic limb. Her right ribs that had bore a blow were burning with pain and her internal organs had also suffered a shock along with them.

Yang Ping slowly wiped away the blood on his eyelid with his thumb and licked it. "Have you returned your skills to your shifu already?"

He had just finished speaking when the edge of the knife was already at the side of his neck. Yang Ping snapped the retractable baton up, blocking her blade, but that deathly pale left hand was unexpectedly nimble. The blade swiftly "swam" from her index finger to her little finger, the life-taking tip coalescing into a single line that crossed over the baton and turned towards Yang Ping's throat. Then, in the instant that it was about to cut open his skin, she suddenly sensed something wrong.

Yang Ping's palm snuck under the baton, his wrist bent at an angle that was impossible for humans. His palm struck her chest, the skin so purple it was almost black.

Wei Xiao had died by a similar strike.

In a moment of urgency, Gan Qing only had time to use her right arm to block. The sound of bones snapping rang out. Her entire body was pushed back nearly ten meters, her back colliding heavily against an unused telephone pole. Her right arm dangled down and Yu Lanchuan suspected that her bones had broken through her flesh and skin!

People whose bodies were on the thin side could not bear taking such direct collisions. Gan Qing's vision blackened and for two seconds, she even suspected that she had fainted. There was a buzzing in her ears, followed right after by a sharp pain that dragged her consciousness back.

Yu Lanchuan rushed over. Yan Hao gripped his rod tightly with both hands, staring nervously at Yang Ping.

Yang Ping wasn't even looking at him. From his vantage point, he glanced down at Gan Qing, then smiled an unruffled smile.

"Wan Mu Chun, a brief moment of glory," he said, "But what use is it? Time passes and things change. When we look back, regardless of whether it's Wei Xiao or the younger generation, they do not deserve their reputation… A waste of my time to be concerned with them for so many years. Since that is the case, I'll be leaving now. Wan Mu Chun's lineage has already fallen to this state but surely you won't go back on your words?"

Yu Lanchuan grabbed hold of Gan Qing. "Wait a minute. She may have lost but I didn't say I was letting you go!"

"Little Master Yu, oh, Little Master Yu." Yang Ping slowly kept his baton away in his sleeve and shook his head with a sigh. "Have you ever drawn blood?"

Yu Lanchuan could not say anything to that.

"A house cat." Yang Ping let out a laugh. "Don't bare your fangs and flex your claws in the wild. Good boy."

T/N:

[1] "Unconcerned with fine and meticulous details" - The description of the Seven Secret Arts of Han Jiang swordplay is "大巧不工" which comes from "重剑无锋，大巧不工." This is from Return of the Condor Heroes, a wuxia novel by Jin Yong, and refers to the Heavy Iron Sword used by the main character, Yang Guo, describing how simple and precise strikes are more suitable for the sword than fancy techniques. (This is a more literal interpretation, Baidu Baike explains it as the wielder's cultivation being more important than the sword's sharp edge.)