Chapter 89: Mount Falling Blossom

The four had not gone far when a cloud of dust rose behind them; Zhao Sishen was leading dozens of cavalry, galloping in pursuit. After desperately riding for over an hour, Li Chongyuan’s steed, bearing two riders, began to slow. Lin Qingli cried out, “Brother Chongyuan, you two go on ahead! Sister Lan and I will hold them off!” With that, she and Lan Wutong wheeled their horses and charged toward the pursuers.

Li Chongyuan shouted, “Just hold them back for a moment, don’t linger in battle! We’ll meet at the place we agreed!” Li Chongjun knew how perilous it was for these two frail women to block the pursuers; moved, he wept uncontrollably, his tears soaking Li Chongyuan’s shoulder.

Lan Wutong pulled a black paper packet from her bosom, tore it open, and flung the powder into the wind, spreading a poisonous mist toward the pursuers. Having witnessed the potency of such poison before, the riders scrambled to shield themselves and dodge away.

Zhao Sishen and another young officer, their steeds swift, dashed through a gap in the toxic cloud and continued after Li Chongyuan.

Lan Wutong drew her shimmering blue whip from her waist, lashing left and right, knocking seven or eight riders from their mounts. But those behind raised their shields, rendering the whip useless. Lan Wutong withdrew her whip, deftly producing a pair of blades, and with a fierce cry, her blades whirled like a storm, cutting down several riders. In moments, she burst through the ranks, turned her horse back, and struck down two more who failed to dodge—none could stop her.

Lin Qingli cheered, “Sister Lan, marvelous skill!” Then, gathering her inner strength, she pushed her palms forward; a force like a tidal wave swept through the air, overturning the leading riders and their horses. The rest faltered, fear gripping them, and dared not advance.

Seeing that Li Chongyuan and his group had already vanished, Lin Qingli laughed, “Sister Lan, more killing is useless; let’s go!” Lan Wutong nodded, and the two rode south together. The remaining cavalry, seeing them flee, spurred their horses in pursuit.

Lan Wutong clicked the hilts of her twin blades together and threw them backhanded toward the pursuers. The blades whistled through the air; the riders ducked behind their saddles, narrowly avoiding the strike. Seeing the attack miss, they rejoiced, shouting, “That woman has lost her weapons, we needn’t fear her now!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the blades, circling through the air, returned and decapitated the speaker, his body crashing to the ground.

Lan Wutong caught her blades while riding and sped away. The cavalry dared not chase, watching helplessly as the two disappeared into the moonlit distance.

Li Chongyuan’s steed was already foaming at the mouth, running only by sheer effort, reaching the foot of Luoying Mountain, more than ten miles west of Yu County. Zhao Sishen and the officer were closing in, almost upon them.

Knowing the horse would not last much longer, Li Chongyuan spotted a large pine tree ahead, its branches hanging low. Quietly gathering his strength, he leapt from the saddle onto the branches, using their spring to vault several yards upward toward the mountaintop.

Zhao Sishen and his men quickly abandoned their horses and scrambled up the slope in pursuit.

Li Chongyuan, carrying Li Chongjun, raced up to the summit, only to find himself at a sheer cliff, its depths unfathomable. He set Li Chongjun down with his back to the precipice and, remembering the location, buried the steel dagger gifted by the Wang brothers, its blade pointing upward amid the rocks. He rested briefly, waiting for Zhao Sishen and his men, while searching the cliffside for the hidden rope the man in black had told him about—a last resort to escape the pursuers by rappelling down.

As he searched, he worried the man in black might have deceived him, but soon found a long rope anchored with an iron spike, its end dangling down the cliff. Relieved, he waited.

By then, Zhao Sishen and his men had reached the cliff. Zhao Sishen grinned menacingly, “Well, you do have some skill, escaping from Jialan Temple! But here, you have nowhere left to run!” He drew his sword, advancing step by step. The moonlight, cold and pale, gilded the blade with a frosty sheen.

Li Chongyuan said coldly, “There’s only one way out of here—the victor leaves the mountain; the loser leaves their life behind.” Standing sword in hand, he shielded Li Chongjun. The young officer, knowing his skills were insufficient, stayed back, knife ready, on guard.

“Take this!” Zhao Sishen shouted, his body vanishing in a blur, reappearing behind Li Chongyuan with a sword thrust. This strike was the “Flat Sword,” a basic move found in all schools, simple and direct, but paired with his uncanny footwork, it became swift as wind, quick as lightning.

Li Chongyuan, sensing the ferocity, sprang into the air with the move “Snow Hawk Catches Rabbit,” flipping behind Zhao Sishen and thrusting at his back. Without turning, Zhao Sishen dodged left and vanished again. As Li Chongyuan landed, he felt a chill of murderous intent and saw the flash of a “Reverse Lift Sword,” another basic move, but delivered with deadly force.

Without hesitation, Li Chongyuan struck with his palm, the force creating a pit in the earth, then used “Shadowless Before the Lamp,” darting several steps away, his robe already sliced. He dared not linger, weaving unpredictably, nimble and swift—these moves revealed Zhao Sishen’s swordsmanship to be shallow, nothing to fear, but his footwork was truly unsettling.

Li Chongyuan’s evasive tactics confounded Zhao Sishen, who was accustomed to ambushes with his stealthy skills; most opponents, terrified by his uncanny movements, would cower defensively, but Li Chongyuan moved freely, forcing Zhao Sishen to chase him.

Yet Zhao Sishen, confident in his secret, paid it no mind. The two chased and dodged across the mountaintop for over half an hour, weapons rarely clashing. One was swift as thunder, feinting and overwhelming; the other ghostlike, vanishing and reappearing—such a duel was rare, leaving the officer and Li Chongjun dumbfounded.

Little did Zhao Sishen know that Li Chongyuan, educated in the classics since childhood, had mastered the Book of Changes. The art of mystical evasion was derived from it, and Li Chongyuan, using his lightness skills, always chose the “rest,” “hurt,” and “death” positions in the formation—places evasion masters avoided.

Thus, whenever Li Chongyuan paused to catch his breath, Zhao Sishen could never ambush him. Yet Zhao Sishen’s own habits were gradually exposed; he favored certain positions for stealth and others for attack.

Li Chongyuan secretly laughed: “Zhao Sishen has only followed the forms without understanding them. Whenever he faces an enemy, he kills them before they realize the pattern, so he never bothers to innovate, repeating the same steps every time—even his swordsmanship lacks depth.” Seeing through it, Zhao Sishen’s defeat was assured.

Li Chongyuan stopped abruptly before a pile of rocks, feigning exhaustion from his evasive maneuvers, hands on his hips, gasping for breath.

At that moment, Zhao Sishen’s silhouette appeared ghostlike atop the rocks behind him. He raised his sword to strike, but suddenly screamed in agony, tumbling down, a dagger embedded in his left foot, blood pouring forth—the very dagger Li Chongyuan had planted earlier, deliberately luring Zhao Sishen to step there and cripple him.

Li Chongyuan laughed aloud, “Zhao Sishen! For all your scheming, how could you have guessed I knew your every step? Now your footwork is useless—prepare to die!”

With that, he attacked. Zhao Sishen, unable to stand, knelt on one leg, defending with his sword. Below, dust rose and hoofbeats thundered as a mass of cavalry gathered. Though Zhao Sishen could not move, he wielded his sword fiercely to protect himself, and Li Chongyuan could not finish him quickly.

Zhao Sishen shouted, “Li Chongyuan, even with my crippled foot, you won’t kill me before the pursuers arrive. Once you do, you won’t escape either! Let’s leave each other a way out, so we may meet again!”

Li Chongyuan retorted, “Should I spare you to let you hunt us down once you recover? Never!” He pressed his attack.

Zhao Sishen cried out in pain, soon suffering three deep wounds, frantically defending but unable to cover all his weaknesses. He was struck again, and said, “Even if you kill me and escape, Li Chongjun will be wanted across the land, never able to recover. Let me live, and I’ll cover for you—just leave Li Chongjun’s clothes, and I’ll handle the rest. This is a crime against the throne, but I swear never to betray you.”

The pursuers were now halfway up the mountain; Li Chongyuan realized killing Zhao Sishen before they arrived was impossible. He had come to Chang’an to rescue someone, and now his mission was accomplished; lingering was unwise. He called, “Very well, I’ll spare you today. I doubt you’ll dare chase us!” With that, he withdrew.

Zhao Sishen breathed a deep sigh of relief, and as his spirit relaxed, he felt utterly drained, nearly collapsing.

Li Chongyuan tore off Li Chongjun’s clothes and tossed them to Zhao Sishen, then strapped Li Chongjun to his back with silk cords, hurried to the rope, and slid swiftly down the cliff. The rope was soaked with oil, and firestones and tinder were prepared below. Upon reaching the base, Li Chongyuan struck a spark, ignited the rope, and it flared up the cliff like a dragon, burning to ash in moments.

Below the cliff, several fine horses grazed—the man in black had prepared them. Li Chongyuan mounted, gathered the spare horses to switch during the journey, and galloped south.

By evening, they reached Zhongnan Mountain. Zilan, Lin Qingli, Lan Wutong, and the Wang brothers had long been waiting with carriages and horses. Zilan, seeing Li Chongjun tortured nearly beyond recognition, immediately embraced him and wept bitterly. Only after much urging did she rise. The Wang brothers brought excellent medicine, quickly tending his wounds and helping him into the carriage, and the party set out for Tianshan.

(To be continued.)