Chapter 131: Opportunity

If such a battle was truly unavoidable, it could have been delayed, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. Why be in such a rush to strike? This was something Flower Butterfly could not fathom. Yet, regardless of her confusion, the die was cast; once she had made her move, there was no turning back. Perhaps it was a momentary lapse in concentration, but as she exerted herself to dodge her opponent’s attack, she faltered, leaving a glaring opening. Shen Wansan was no ordinary man; even without looking, he could sense the shift in the air and the change in her posture. His leaf-blade lashed out, and it seemed certain to strike her. Panicked, the girl twisted her body backward, barely evading the blow, though the wind trailing the blade left her cheeks stinging. Her pair of leaf-wings, however, were not so fortunate; a large section was sheared clean off. Without the support of her wings, Flower Butterfly could not remain airborne, and Shen Wansan would certainly not allow her the chance to regenerate them. With a sharp cry, she transformed the remaining withered leaves on her back into blades and sent them flying toward him. Taking advantage of the distraction, she landed on a nearby bluestone. Whether due to the urgency of her movements or sheer exhaustion, she swayed unsteadily, gasping for air.

"Little girl, that was only five moves. Let’s see how you handle the next five!" Seemingly satisfied with the situation, Shen Wansan opened his previously closed eyes. His gaze was filled with a sense of absolute certainty, and his tone was dripping with arrogance. Naturally, the principle of striking while the enemy is vulnerable remained absolute; without a moment’s hesitation, Shen Wansan withdrew his Eight Trigrams Howling Heaven stance. Like a gust of wind, he lunged directly at Flower Butterfly. The Bright Moon Manor was renowned for its mastery of both palm techniques and swordsmanship, and it was in close-quarters combat that he could unleash his true potential.

In a duel between masters, every move is critical, and no carelessness can be tolerated. For Shen Chengbi, this was particularly true. His martial arts were formidable, and his cunning was profound—otherwise, he could not have ascended to the position of Hall Master of Ronghua within a few short years. Yet, this meant little, for his opponent today was no simple adversary. In terms of spiritual power and combat experience, Dongfang Mingyue had been a legend in the martial arts world for decades. Having survived countless duels, he was seasoned and sagacious. Half of Shen Chengbi’s martial arts were taught to him by Shen Wansan himself; while this was a gift, it was a disadvantage against Dongfang Mingyue, as the master of Hanshan Valley was intimately familiar with half of Shen Wansan’s techniques. One slip, and his next move would be predicted before he even made it. As for cunning, Dongfang Mingyue had managed to hide in the Bright Moon Manor for years without discovery, never once revealing a hint of discontent—that alone proved he was a formidable foe. The two had traded over ten moves in a flash, and now, as they leaped apart, they paused, seemingly contemplating their next moves.

"Good lad. Although I can see through his techniques, whenever I fought Shen Wansan in the past, he used either palms or a sword. This one, however, wields a folding fan. While the moves are the same, the force and the variations have become elusive, making them quite troublesome to counter. I must be careful not to reveal any openings for him to exploit!" Dongfang Mingyue’s feet traced the Seven Stars, his movements ethereal and unpredictable. A man of his stature naturally possessed his own signature skills, and swordsmanship relies on agility and elegance. Although his soft sword remained coiled at his waist, the grace of a master was evident in every gesture.

For Shen Chengbi, it was better not to attack rashly. Since his martial arts held no secrets from his opponent, attacking would only expose more flaws. It was more practical to parry and adapt. Delaying was also a tactic; although this place was remote and rarely visited, it did not mean a prolonged battle would not alert others in the manor. Once someone arrived, the life-or-death struggle would have to end, and the aftermath would be easier to manage. Everyone in the Bright Moon Manor knew that Shen Chengbi was the heir apparent, and they naturally sought to curry his favor, while the Hall Master of Zhaoyang was held in low regard. Whose words would be believed was a foregone conclusion.

"I want to know, if you really are the master of Hanshan Valley, why give up the prestige of leading one of the four great sects to live under a false name in the Bright Moon Manor? No one does such things without a reason. What is your true objective?" Since he needed to stall, conversation was an excellent tool. Moreover, Shen Chengbi truly had many burning questions. He asked without hesitation, while spiritual power gathered rapidly around his fan in preparation for the coming struggle. At this question, Dongfang Mingyue, who had been grave and silent, suddenly let out a loud, cold laugh. Shen Chengbi could not fathom what the old man was thinking, but the laughter served no purpose other than to draw attention to their location.

The laughter did not last long; despite his deep cultivation, the old man’s breath was growing thin. As the laughter ceased abruptly, his hand moved slowly toward his waist. It seemed he was finally ready to fight in earnest. The blade had yet to appear, but the gesture alone made Shen Chengbi more cautious. A cold glint flashed; the name "Gentleman" was a cruel irony for this soft sword. Although only a sliver of moonlight touched the blade, it emitted an bone-chilling aura, as if mocking its owner’s own duplicity.

"What is the goal?" the old man muttered, as if calculating the answer himself. Perhaps even he had forgotten the original reason for his decision. Yet, he had sacrificed twenty years to this. How long is twenty years? Long enough to watch a wailing infant grow into a graceful youth. Naturally, his dark hair had long since turned to silver. Whether it was worth it, even he could not say. "Perhaps I once did it to repay a debt. I owed the Blue Lotus Sect a life, and I had to repay it. The Blue Lotus Sect Leader, Shui Lianhua, died at the hands of the old ghost Shen, so I had to kill him to avenge her. But the old ghost’s martial arts were superior to mine, and with the likes of you in the Bright Moon Manor, it was no easy task. So I waited, and waited. And today, the opportunity has finally arrived!"

"Opportunity?" Shen Chengbi could not tell if the man was speaking the truth. The four great sects represented the righteous forces of the Central Plains, mortal enemies of the Blue Lotus Sect. The idea that the master of Hanshan Valley owed a debt to the Blue Lotus Sect was baffling. Even if it were true, what was this "opportunity" he spoke of? Dongfang Mingyue, however, seemed to have no intention of hiding anything. At this point, what was left to conceal?

The soft sword pointed toward Shen Chengbi. Such a weapon was immensely powerful, especially in the hands of a master who could adjust the flow of spiritual power to change the direction of the tip with ease. It was incredibly flexible, yet because of this, it was prone to injuring the wielder if their control was lacking. Very few chose it as their weapon, but for Dongfang Mingyue, it was second nature. The blade, surging with spiritual energy, pointed straight at Shen Chengbi. Though he hadn't yet lunged, a sword aura far stronger than before was palpable. "You want to know who the two people who came to my weapons workshop today were? I will tell you. One is the Blue Lotus Sect Leader, Shui Lianhua—or Shui Linglong, as you call her—and the other is Hantan Yi, who nearly died at the hands of the old ghost Dao three years ago. With those two appearing in Bright Moon Manor at this very moment, you should be able to guess why they are here, shouldn't you?"