Looking at the young man before him, Xia Changqing’s heart was filled with coldness. Although he didn’t know how the youth had recognized him, he already harbored the intention to kill Wang Anfeng. Now that the boy had delivered himself to his doorstep, how could he possibly let him go? Even if he was seriously injured, how could he lose to a Ninth Grade martial artist?
Once he left, retreating into Jianghu, there would never be another chance to kill him as he would surely rise swiftly through the ranks.
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With this thought in mind, a murderous intent arose. Holding his broken sword, Xia Changqing suddenly leaped up and slashed with it, his moves brutally fierce.
Wang Anfeng staggered under this attack, his figure faltering. He had just matched Xia Changqing blow for blow in midair, fighting on equal ground. Although the latter was seriously injured, he was, after all, a Middle Third Rank martial artist whose remaining power was formidable, and Wang Anfeng was sent reeling backward for a moment.
At this point, he was in midair, about to land on the ground. With his right hand wielding his sword, and his left hand grabbing the flying horse’s reins, his left foot stepped onto the saddle to steady himself. He then thrust forward with his sword, while Xia Changqing landed on the other side, similarly holding the horse’s reins and slashing diagonally with his knife.
The clash of their vigorous qi erupted in a thunderous boom.
The warhorse reared, neighing long and crazily as if it had gone mad.
This was a rare breed of horse, and now, startled, it was running at an extremely fast speed, nearly like a whirlwind. If one were to fall off, even with Wang Anfeng’s physical constitution, it would result in severe injuries in an instant. Yet, at this moment, neither Wang Anfeng nor Xia Changqing showed the slightest fear. The two crazily battled atop the back of this horse, in such a small space.
When the swords and knife collided, it was only the collision of pure combat experience.
Xia Changqing, with his grave injuries, intended to rely on his own experience to kill Wang Anfeng. However, after exchanging a dozen or so moves, he was shocked to realize that he was gradually being overpowered. This young man before him seemed as if he engaged in thrilling battles every day; his experience was just as abundant, if not more so, than his own.
And as Xia Changqing mobilized his inner strength in combat, his internal injuries were getting worse. Grinding his teeth, he increased the ferocity of his knife technique, and just as he was about to execute a killing move, he suddenly reversed his grip on the knife handle, taking a dangerous gamble, and trapped Wang Anfeng’s wooden sword, pouring out immense strength that left Wang Anfeng momentarily unable to break free.
At the same time, he raised his left hand to strike with his palm technique. However, the young man showed no fear and also released the horse’s reins. He struck out swiftly, blocking Xia Changqing’s wrist and preventing the palm attack from landing. Then he swiftly transitioned to a finger technique, shooting down like a falling star, aiming straight for the vital point at Xia Changqing’s dantian.
The warhorse continued its wild neighing, running unchecked.
Xia Changqing possessed an extraordinarily exceptional movement technique, and even though he couldn’t use much inner strength, his footwork was top-notch in the world. Wang Anfeng, on the other hand, had been rigorously trained in the fundamentals by Mr. Ying since he started cultivation and stood atop the horse, his strength unaffected, even utilizing the horse’s charging momentum to make his blows even more powerful.
In just a blink of an eye, the two exchanged over a dozen moves on the back of the horse, each strike merciless and without the least bit of mercy.
Xia Changqing grew more alarmed by the moment; although the person before him was young, his experience and technique were no worse than that of an old Jianghu like himself.
Each move he made wore him down further; he couldn’t sustain the battle for long, yet the young man’s techniques were becoming increasingly refined and aggressive, showing signs of growing stronger the longer they fought. It was apparent he was rapidly improving while exchanging blows with Xia Changqing.
Determined, Xia Changqing suppressed the pain that shot through his channels and mobilized his robust inner strength, pushing out a palm directly in front of him.
At this moment, Wang Anfeng was fully engaged in the heat of battle. His Prajna Palm and Star Pointing Finger Technique were evolving rapidly amidst this fight to the death, the experience accumulated in Copper Man Lane inspiring revelations, bursting forth in the face of life and death, making his techniques increasingly subtle and profound.
Just as he was about to execute a sophisticated move from the Prajna Palm, his opponent suddenly surged forward with a palm strike. The fierce wind buffeted his face, and even before the palm struck, his cheeks stung. Wang Anfeng’s heart skipped a beat. His toes hooked around the saddle, his left hand grasped the reins once again, and his whole body dropped to one side, as if standing on the other side of the horse.
The moment he somersaulted downward, a powerful burst of qi surged out like a dragon, splintering the nearby trees. They had already left the official road by this point, and with this palm, countless trees and rocks were shattered into fragments, whipping up a violent wind that pulled the jade hairpin from the young man’s bun, causing it to fall to the ground.
Wang Anfeng’s black hair flew about, and suddenly his cheek stung.
It was the fierce current that had carried splintered branches, shooting them around like arrows, slashing a wound across his face. Looking up, Xia Changqing was also coughing non-stop, his mouth spewing blood from carelessly exerting his inner strength, his eyes fierce.
Wang Anfeng knew that in this exchange, he could force Xia Changqing to the brink of injury eruption, but the other would also endure the pain and strike back.
Such a move, if he were to receive it even once, would instantly kill him, just like the shattered trees and rocks nearby.
Wang Anfeng gritted his teeth, gave a low shout, and rose to his feet. His left hand released the horse’s reins and he struck towards Xia Changqing, who, while coughing up blood, shot a palm straight for Wang Anfeng’s chest. The young man didn’t dare to be negligent, countering with his own technique, and their struggle resumed with several more exchanges.
But then Xia Changqing’s expression turned somber, and he suddenly pushed out another palm. Knowing this was bad, Wang Anfeng swiftly dodged to one side.
Yet the palm struck, without any visible abnormalities. Wang Anfeng’s pupils constricted when he saw those fingers curl into a tiger’s claw, swooping down toward his abdomen. It was too late to avoid it, and he had to withstand the brunt of it head-on.
In his youth, Xia Changqing had made a name for himself in External Kung Fu, and although he hadn’t used his claw technique in a long time, it had not lost its potency. It pierced five bloody holes in Wang Anfeng’s side, and then he was about to twist his wrist and exert force, aiming to tear away the flesh from the young man’s side.