Chapter 50: Seven Falls into the Trap

Glancing around at the immobilized men, Qiu Zhiqing gradually began to feel that something was amiss. Pondering the various strange occurrences he had encountered since entering the village, he realized that, all things considered, this was clearly no ordinary settlement!

Whose village did you ever see populated entirely by able-bodied adults and children?

Just as Qiu Zhiqing walked toward the central hall, intending to question the children, a dark-faced man wielding a Green Dragon Crescent Blade charged out from the back hall. Without a word, he brought the weapon down on Qiu Zhiqing in a classic Mount Hua splitting strike.

Qiu Zhiqing drew his long sword and met the blow! At the first touch, he sensed something was wrong—the man possessed formidable internal energy and immense physical strength! Hurriedly deflecting and pulling, he managed to throw the downward-slicing broadsword off course...

The trembling floor tiles braced themselves for a heavy blow, but the attacker pulled back his strength just in time, halting the crescent blade right at Qiu Zhiqing’s waist. Before the floor tiles could even heave a sigh of relief, Qiu Zhiqing swiftly tilted his head and rolled sideways, simultaneously executing a "Pouring the Northern Dipper" thrust straight at his opponent's face!

The man reacted with extreme swiftness. Seeing his sweeping blade evaded, he instantly retrieved the long sword, weaving a dazzling web of blade light before him. In terms of raw skill, Qiu Zhiqing was clearly the superior fighter.

The dark-faced man was driven back by Qiu Zhiqing's sword strike. Before he could mount a counterattack, Qiu Zhiqing flicked his long sword against the ground and lunged straight toward him once more...

One crescent blade, one long sword—the two engaged in a fierce battle right within the courtyard! The broadsword was heavy and powerful, every single move targeting Qiu Zhiqing's vital points, while the long sword was like a gentle breeze, departing the moment it touched, occasionally shifting like dense fog to cover every angle of the opponent's body...

After a mere few exchanges, the dark-faced man was completely on the defensive. Having tested his opponent's limits, Qiu Zhiqing did not finish him off immediately!

The sounds of battle in the village had already ceased, so he was in no rush. It was his first time encountering someone who used a massive crescent blade, and he needed to properly accumulate some combat experience.

For years, his spars had been limited to his fellow sect members. Everyone else used swords and proved to be no match for him at all, so it was a rare opportunity to face someone wielding a heavy long weapon...

Gradually, the dark-faced man noticed that the young Daoist's attacks were no longer as piercingly sharp as they had been at the start, prompting him to shift from defense to offense. The crescent blade was immensely powerful, every posture filled with sheer force.

Conversely, Qiu Zhiqing's long sword danced with effortless grace, deflecting and striking simultaneously. Time and again, he dodged by a hair's breadth or deflected the blows with his blade, steadfastly refusing to meet force with force. It always looked as though he was just a hair away from being cut down, when in reality, the margin was vast...

Before long, Qiu Zhiqing's ears twitched. Dodging the broadsword once again, he closed in, struck the man with a close-range palm hit that sent him flying, and simultaneously flicked his fingers in a blur of motion, sealing the dark-faced man's acupuncture points. With a crisp "ding," his long sword slid back into its scabbard!

Having done all this, Qiu Zhiqing turned around calmly, just as a dull thud echoed from behind him...

"Bang, bang, bang! Open the door quickly, we're back!" came the knocking from outside. Qiu Zhiqing hesitated for a moment, deciding not to open the door immediately. Instead, he walked over to one of the men lying face-down on the ground and kicked away the broadsword resting beside him.

Qiu Zhiqing's gaze narrowed. When he kicked the broadsword away, the rush of wind had blown back the hair of the fallen man, revealing a tiny tattoo behind his ear—he saw it crystal clear this time!

After several years, he had unexpectedly laid eyes on this exact same tattoo once more, alongside the same children. Thinking back to the bows and arrows they had used earlier...

***

With a loud "bang," the wooden latch was shattered by a flying broadsword, snapping in half. After a brief moment of silence outside, the double doors were shoved open with a thunderous roar, and six feathered arrows came whistling straight toward him, completely disregarding the children standing not far behind him.

Qiu Zhiqing furrowed his brow, having already figured out their intentions! With a swirl, a circle, and a flick of his horsetail whisk—a sequence of movements as smooth and natural as eating or drinking—he deflected the projectiles. "Clang, clang, clang!" Six ringing impacts sounded almost simultaneously as the arrows embedded themselves three feet deep into the floor tiles...

"Stop, stop, stop! Friendly fire, it's a misunderstanding!" It was Hong Qigong's voice. At that moment, Hong Qigong stepped in first, followed by a group of able-bodied youths wielding broadswords, a middle-aged man dressed as a Confucian scholar, and two guards in martial attire.

Could he really have been overthinking things? Seeing Hong Qigong walking alongside them, Qiu Zhiqing couldn't help but think so. Perhaps having a few extra children or able-bodied young men was normal... right?

"Senior Seven, watch out!" Normal my foot! Seeing the middle-aged Confucian scholar sneaking up behind Hong Qigong to launch a surprise attack, Qiu Zhiqing hastily cried out a warning.

Hong Qigong was a veteran of the pugilistic world. The moment Qiu Zhiqing shouted, he sensed someone ambushing him from behind. He channeled his internal energy and spun around to strike with a palm, only to find that his internal energy refused to rise. Terrified, Hong Qigong hastily leaped backward, but was still struck by a palm blow and sent flying...

Qiu Zhiqing hurried forward to catch Hong Qigong, neutralizing the momentum of his impact!

"Watch out, it's poison!" Hong Qigong said weakly! Hearing this, Qiu Zhiqing instantly switched to internal breathing. This was going to be tough—the enemy had taken down their heavy hitter right off the bat while also restricting his own mobility!

He quickly took Hong Qigong's pulse, only to find that the old man was perfectly healthy with no signs of poisoning. Confused, he asked, "Senior Seven, what are your symptoms? It doesn't look like poisoning at all."

"I don't know. My limbs are completely limp, and I can't use my internal energy properly. Brat, this time the old beggar has truly fallen into a trap. You must be careful!" With that, Hong Qigong simply assumed a flattened posture, looking entirely like he was waiting for Qiu Zhiqing to fetch the antidote!

Qiu Zhiqing put away his whisk, settled his long sword, and tried to negotiate as amiably as possible: "Good sirs, we have no prior grievances and no recent enmity. Why resort to this? Why don't we each take a step back? Hand the antidote to this Daoist priest, and we will leave this place immediately. How about that?"

Right now, all he wanted was the antidote. He would have loved to carry Hong Qigong away, but since the old man was suffering from some unknown affliction and couldn't even walk, should he abandon him?

He quickly dismissed the thought. Courtesy before force—let's see if he could get the antidote through peaceful means first!

"Fine! If you want the antidote, drink this!" With that, a small porcelain flask was tossed toward Qiu Zhiqing. The cork had already slipped off mid-air, and a drop of clear liquid spilled from it.

Naturally, Qiu Zhiqing had no intention of catching it with his hands. With a flick and a horizontal sweep of his sword, the porcelain flask came to a steady halt right on the tip of his blade!

"I presume this wasn't meant for me to drink, but for me to 'smell'?" Without waiting for an answer, he flicked the sword tip and whipped his left sleeve, sending the porcelain flask flying like a shooting star to smash directly against the floor tiles a short distance ahead of them...

"Hold your breath immediately!"

However, Qiu Zhiqing was not about to let them have their way. The moment he shouted "Hold your breath," his figure flashed, and he was already standing right in front of them, thrusting his sword toward the middle-aged Confucian scholar's neck!

***

At that instant, a spear thrust out from a blind spot, striking the spine of the long sword with hair-breadth precision...

He was a skilled fighter! Unflustered, Qiu Zhiqing twisted and flicked his sword, aiming straight for the Confucian scholar's throat. Unexpectedly, another long sword emerged from the man's right side, clashing against his blade with a ring of metal.

Before Qiu Zhiqing could change his stance to continue holding the leader hostage, the spear struck again. The spear-tip gleamed with a biting cold light, and the user's internal energy was formidable. Combined with the swordsman, they attacked from afar to counter his close-quarters advantage, forcing Qiu Zhiqing back several paces.

"Splendid, splendid, splendid! As expected of the Quanzhen Sect's third-generation chief disciple—this martial art is truly no less impressive than that of the renowned Northern Beggar, Hong Qigong!" The middle-aged Confucian applauded while offering praise.

Qiu Zhiqing's heart sank. To dare act this arrogant even after knowing his and Senior Seven's identities was a rare sight indeed!

"What? You want the antidote? Simple. Just join our ranks, and you'll be one of us. As for the antidote, I will gladly present it with both hands! How about it? I believe with the two of you joining us, our grand enterprise is well within reach!"

Qiu Zhiqing scoffed at the Confucian scholar's words: "You lot are nothing more than vermin in the moonlight, skittering about all day, concealing your identities in deep mountains and dense forests, keeping company with insects and snakes, beasts and rodents, yet you dare wildly babble about a 'grand enterprise'? Utterly ridiculous!"

Noticing that the man in Confucian attire now stood with his hands clasped behind his back—a posture quite different from his previous stance—Qiu Zhiqing guessed that he was likely using the moment to administer the antidote to his subordinates.

Pointing his long sword obliquely toward the ground and extending his left hand, he said, "Give me the antidote, and we will leave immediately with these children. I, on behalf of Quanzhen, guarantee that we will not make an enemy of you. How about that? Surely the words of Quanzhen's third-generation chief disciple carry at least some weight!"

Before the opposite side could respond, Hong Qigong shouted, "Don't waste words with them! They're using the antidote right now—take them down quickly!"

Qiu Zhiqing delayed no longer. Having exchanged a dozen or so moves with the two opponents earlier, he had basically grasped their patterns. Going all out, his offensive suddenly surged like a rolling tide as he executed the Quanzhen Sword Technique to its absolute limit.

The two fighters who had just driven Qiu Zhiqing back with their combined assault suddenly felt as though Mount Tai were pressing down upon them. The sword moves were continuous yet ever-changing, looking like a gentle breeze on the surface while striking with the ferocity of towering waves underneath.

Such a sword style—wielding the heavy as if it were light, shifting with effortless fluidity—put the two of them through sheer misery. Compared to their previous momentum, the difference was as vast as mud and clouds. Within a mere few dozen exchanges, both began to falter...

Meanwhile, the toxic vapor released earlier had likely dissipated by now. With a wave of a hand, a crowd of people came rushing in from all directions to surround and besiege Qiu Zhiqing...