Chapter 1 The Windy Third Floor

A gust of wind swept through the spacious third floor.

The proprietress stared intently. Wang Quan Dao Ren was raising his cup in the distance, but before he could drink, a tall, imposing, white-haired old man with an arrogant aura stood with his hands clasped behind his back a foot away from him.

Standing to the left and right in front of the old man were two monks.

One was a middle-aged monk with a kasaya draped over his shoulder and a benevolent appearance. His skin was like vajra, and the air behind his head shimmered, seemingly concealing a small sun.

His expression was dignified, as if a Buddha sitting on a lotus platform in a temple had walked out.

The other was an old monk so old that he was frightening. He was short, his skin was withered, and faint yellow spots could still be seen on it.

Across from Wang Quan Dao Ren, a middle-aged man in a blue robe was sitting.

The middle-aged man had no sword or blade. His waist-length hair was combed meticulously, each strand black, shiny, and smooth. His face was like a sculpture, and his eyes were long and narrow, with lightning seemingly flashing within, captivating the soul.

World-shaking martial artist, Yan Kuangtu!

Living Buddha of this world, King Zhuanlun!

Killer Arhat, Grandmaster Yixiu!

Moon Hanging in the Sky, Bai Yue Zhenren!

Including Wang Quan Dao Ren, these were already five top grandmasters from the Weaponry Index!

Mu Qingfeng and Old Pang in the voice, weren't they the Six Hells Demon Lord Pang Wanyang, ranked first or second on the Weaponry Index, and the Taibai Sword Immortal Mu Qingfeng?

Glug!

The proprietress's throat bobbed, and she couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva.

The movement was subtle, but it scared her face white. The hand holding the small wine pot trembled as if it were convulsing.

It wasn't that she lacked courage, but that the people in front of her were too terrifying.

Any one of these people could kill her a thousand times over with a flick of their finger, let alone all of them together?

Who wouldn't be afraid, who wouldn't be terrified?

"Amitabha."

Yixiu put his hands together and bowed slightly. "Daoist, we meet again."

"Excellent, excellent. I have long heard of the Real Person's great name. Now that I see you, it is indeed well-deserved."

King Zhuanlun bowed with a smile, but a ripple appeared in his clear eyes.

He sensed a familiar aura on Wang Quan Dao Ren.

"Masters, long time no see."

An Qisheng drank the wine in his cup and felt the human skin scroll in his sleeve suddenly jump wildly. He smiled again,

"I have also heard of King Zhuanlun's name for a long time."

Bai Yue Zhenren picked up his cup on his own, watching the others exchange greetings with interest, smiling without speaking.

Yan Kuangtu was too lazy to be so polite. He cupped his fist and sat down with a golden horse:

"Too much courtesy seems hypocritical. Those who want to sit, sit; those who don't want to sit, stand!"

"Brother Yan is straightforward."

Bai Yue Zhenren laughed, his laughter like a spring breeze.

Yixiu and King Zhuanlun only shook their heads slightly and sat down as well.

The table was large.

It was originally intended for seven people, and after a few people sat down, there were still two seats vacant.

At this moment, a steady footstep slowly came.

Da da da~~~

A young man in white, spotless clothes, with long hair falling over his shoulders, without any accessories, like an immortal, walked up the stairs.

This white-clothed man had an extremely handsome appearance, and his aura was clear but not cold, but as pure as a clear spring in the mountains.

He was also the only one who brought a weapon.

A sheathed long sword was held between his slender, white fingers.

He slowly raised his head. Beneath his long eyebrows, his eyes were as gentle as water:

"Are you so used to flying around that you are not used to walking?"

"Brother Mu, are you well?"

King Zhuanlun put one hand in front of his chest and greeted him with a smile. The two seemed to be acquaintances.

Mu Qingfeng nodded indifferently:

"I am always well."

Saying that, his gaze swept over everyone, paused on An Qisheng for a moment, and finally fell on Yixiu:

"But the master has taken the lead."

"Amitabha."

Yixiu lightly recited a Buddhist chant, sighed slightly, and said lightly, "This old monk has never competed with anyone in his life. Three hundred years have passed in a flash. This time, it should be the old monk's. No one can snatch it, and no one can compete for it!"

His voice was ancient and desolate, like a mossy city wall, but the words he spoke were unprecedentedly firm, causing Yan Kuangtu, King Zhuanlun, and Bai Yue Zhenren to raise their eyebrows.

Apart from the old eunuch hidden in the Great Feng Royal City, Yixiu was undoubtedly the longest-lived person in the world.

It is said that this old monk was not the most outstanding one in the Jianghu two hundred years ago. He has lived for more than two hundred years, and talented people have emerged from generation to generation, and he has been suppressed by others in every generation.

Now, he is even suppressed by Mu Qingfeng and Pang Wanyang.

However, this was only because he did not compete, not because he was not strong.

For nearly three hundred years, he has not competed with anyone, and many people have forgotten why he was called the Killer Arhat two hundred years ago.

Once such a person is determined to compete with others.

No one in the world can stop him.

Mu Qingfeng did not speak, but the long sword he held in his palm trembled slightly, probing out half an inch.

Swish~

It was as if a bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the dark night.

A long sword cry like a dragon's roar instantly reverberated throughout the entire third-floor hall.

In an instant, it seemed as if ice had descended on the third-floor hall, as if even the air had been frozen.

Yixiu put his hands together, his expression as calm as ever, and gently recited the Buddha's name:

"Amitabha."

Buzz~

It was as if the bronze bell weighing tens of thousands of pounds hanging in Huangjue Temple had been struck!

A Zen chant like a great bell rang in everyone's hearts, and instantly, the most yang and masculine aura spread out, colliding with the cold sword intent.

This old monk who had lived for nearly three hundred years was actually cultivating the Taiyang Wuji! (Supreme Yang)

Yan Kuangtu, Bai Yue Zhenren, and King Zhuanlun were not surprised, and they understood in their hearts.

If not, he would not be so determined.

He cultivates the sun, and Pang Wanyang cultivates the yin.

The battle between the two extremes is most likely to stimulate that inspiration. This point gives him a greater advantage than anyone present.

The proprietress standing beside the few people felt a chill on her body and a slight warmth on her thigh.

Incomparable shame surged into her heart, and her brain went blank: It's over, my old lady, my face is completely lost.

"The main guest has not yet arrived, why do the two of you need to compete?"

At this moment, a calm voice cut in between the two, like the starry sky encompassing the sun and the moon, instantly dissolving the tense atmosphere between the two.

This time, everyone present was shocked.

Mu Qingfeng and Yixiu's eyes also moved. Although the two only tasted it lightly, but to be able to interrupt their collision so freely, this Wang Quan Dao Ren.......

Is this Taiji?

Yixiu put down his clasped hands, and Mu Qingfeng's long sword that had been drawn half an inch fell back.

Immediately, the proprietress's body shook.

A palm took the wine pot from her hand and waved her away slightly.

"Ew~"

The proprietress covered her burning face in shame and ran out of the third floor as if fleeing.

She couldn't help but feel a little grateful to this Taoist.

In a blink of an eye, she cursed herself for being cheap. Weren't these people all invited by him?

"Brother Mu, please sit down."

An Qisheng smiled slightly, and with a slight tilt of the wine pot, a clear stream of wine drew arcs and landed in the cups of the few people.

"The way of Taiji.......”

Mu Qingfeng's eyes flashed and he sat down slowly.

Although only Yan Kuangtu truly witnessed the scene on the Wangquan Mountain Peak, it was impossible for many large sects and forces not to know.

However, he had not taken it too seriously originally.

Yin or Yang, there was no distinction of high or low. Even if the two were merged, it might not be stronger than a single sun and yin, but now it seemed that this was not the case.

"As expected of Wang Quan Dao Ren......”

After Mu Qingfeng sat down, Yixiu murmured a sentence, his voice was very small, its meaning was unclear, which surprised the other people.

An Qisheng, on the other hand, seemed to know something and didn't care.

He just said loudly:

"Since all of you fellow Daoists have arrived, Pang Xiong, won't you show yourself?"

His voice fluttered in the wind and sand, but each word was as heavy as a thousand pounds, suppressing the pervading wind and sand.

Revealing a figure in a green shirt coming slowly in the wind and sand.

Pang Wanyang walked in the wind and sand, and Madam White Lotus followed not far away.

Hearing An Qisheng's words.

Madam White Lotus's face changed, and she couldn't help but speak out:

"Sect Master, no!"

Her senses were extremely keen, and she could feel the six powerful and unparalleled auras in the Hanlong Inn, as bright as the sun and the moon, showing themselves.

Wang Quan Dao Ren, Mu Qingfeng, Yixiu, King Zhuanlun, Bai Yue Zhenren, Yan Kuangtu!

In front of these six earth-shattering masters, no one could not change color.

No one in the world could contend against six top masters of the same level, even Pang Wanyang.

But letting her voice be blown away by the wind and sand, Pang Wanyang seemed unaware.

The steps under his feet were unhurried, and his figure did not change in the slightest.

Only a pair of deep eyes became as bright as the morning sun, piercing through dozens of miles of wind and sand, and falling on the third floor of the Hanlong Inn:

"Daoist has invited me twice, if Pang does not come, wouldn't it be a loss of face to the Daoist?"

A voice with a faint smile floated between.

Pang Wanyang moved with the wind. It seemed that with each step, he had traveled more than ten miles.

The sudden burst of air blew down the omnipresent wind and sand and lifted his green robe.

Neigh~

In the inn's lobby, the red horse that was drinking fine wine and delicacies neighed for a long time, as if it had been greatly frightened.

The proprietress who had just rushed down from the third floor was startled by the horse's neigh, and was about to burst into a scolding when she saw Pang Wanyang walking over.

'Pang, Pang Wanyang......’

Her pupils shrank, guessing the identity of the person who came. The proprietress only felt her body weaken and 'paji' fell into the corner.

Yixiu and Mu Qingfeng were both venerable elders of famous and upright sects. Although she was afraid, she didn't think they would kill her.

But this was Pang Wanyang!

The world's number one demon for decades in legends, the demon master who ruled over the Six Hells Demon Sect, a demon king, a peerless great demon!

Looking at Pang Wanyang who was walking over, the proprietress's eyes rolled back, and she fainted to the ground.

The last thought before fainting was; I, your old lady, must turn over a new leaf and never show my face in public again. This is too scary.

Tap tap tap~~~

On the third floor, listening to the footsteps that were neither high nor low, the eyes of the six people fell at the same time.

Pang Wanyang stepped onto the third floor.

Facing the six great masters of the same level as him, he slightly pinched his palm, already pinching the wine glass left for him.

After drinking it all in one gulp, his voice and long hair flew together:

"The wine is finished, fellow Daoists,

Who will come first?"