Chapter Thirty-Five: The Road Ahead

"This… this…" Lying on the ground, Wang Qingxuan was so shocked he could barely speak! A captain with seventh-rank strength had been killed! His own disciple…

While Wang Qingxuan stared on, his expression complicated, Qin Yi began to search the corpse. He collected five hundred taels in silver notes, then promptly hoisted Wang Qingxuan onto his back and vanished into the forest.

On the way:

"Qin Yi, just how many martial arts have you actually mastered?" Wang Qingxuan couldn't help but ask. Earlier, he had witnessed Qin Yi use two different movement techniques—one of which was the Celestial Pivot Step, with which he was intimately familiar. But how long had it been since he taught Qin Yi?

"Just a few," Qin Yi replied.

"Just… a few…" Wang Qingxuan was left speechless! Most martial artists spend their whole lives mastering only one or two forms. If they could refine even one or two arts to a profound level by middle age, it would already be considered remarkable talent.

But look at Qin Yi now—Wang Qingxuan estimated that he had brought at least three martial arts to perfection, and had even comprehended secret techniques!

"You are a genius on par with the former head of our temple—no, even more extraordinary! You are still so young. The previous temple master only mastered four arts to such a level after fifty." Wang Qingxuan's face flushed as he spoke; he began to suspect that Qin Yi had been concealing his true talent all along.

To think that such an extraordinary genius was his own disciple—it was enough to make his heart race with excitement!

"Master, you once said the previous temple head had overall strength at the seventh rank, but was still weaker than some peers who cultivated top-tier martial arts. But that Xue Yintu from earlier was also at the seventh rank, yet his fighting power seemed mediocre to me," Qin Yi remarked.

Wang Qingxuan suspected his disciple was showing off! Did he not realize his absurd speed was already approaching that of an eighth-rank master? With such an advantage in speed, his opponent was riddled with openings before him!

"I observed your exchange just now. That Xue Yintu seems to have focused on two arts—one fist technique and one movement art—both of which he has refined to the level of secret skills. So his overall strength reaches the seventh rank. If he had trained in martial arts above the seventh rank, you wouldn't have been able to kill him so swiftly—perhaps you wouldn’t have beaten him at all. So my judgment is that his arts, at best, are at the sixth rank," Wang Qingxuan analyzed.

"Is that so?" Qin Yi nodded.

Martial arts, like cultivation, are ranked from one to nine. For example, a third-rank martial art can at most bestow third-rank cultivation, but if one learns two or three or more such arts, overall strength exceeds the sum of their ranks.

Wang Qingxuan had also mentioned that martial arts above the seventh rank are called first-class arts. Within the same level, those who train in first-class arts possess greater speed and power than those who study lower-ranked techniques.

…

"Reporting to Commander: the encirclement is complete, but… a dozen or so managed to escape!" Guo Lin approached Pang Shaozheng and reported respectfully.

"No matter. Let them go—our objective is achieved."

"Hmm, where is Captain Xue?" Pang Shaozheng looked around, but Xue Yintu was nowhere to be seen.

At that moment—

"Reporting, Commander! We found Lord Xue’s body in the forest over there," a centurion ran up, drenched in sweat.

"What?" Pang Shaozheng’s face darkened instantly! Though Xue Yintu had only trained two arts to the sixth rank, his overall strength was at the seventh! He had wiped out all the senior priests of Qingwei Dao Palace—by rights, no one should have been able to kill him!

"Let’s go see."

Soon, Pang Shaozheng arrived at the scene. Seeing Xue Yintu’s neck twisted into the shape of a “7,” his expression grew even more grim.

Judging from the traces of the fight, this was neither an ambush nor an assassination—it was a fair and direct confrontation.

"What kind of fist technique is this? Such destructive power—it’s not the Jade Balance Fist of Qingwei Dao Palace." Pang Shaozheng examined Xue Yintu’s corpse, frowning deeply.

"Did any senior members of Qingwei Dao Palace escape?"

"Wang Qingxuan’s body hasn’t been found—he must have fled!"

"Could someone have rescued him?"

…

At the foot of Qingwei Dao Palace Mountain:

"Master, you should recuperate here for now. The most dangerous place is often the safest. If the county garrison sends more men, we can always hide in the back mountains—our chances of escape will be higher."

"Very well," Wang Qingxuan gazed at the familiar mountain scenery, his spirits somewhat downcast. This time, Qingwei Dao Palace was finished.

They climbed the mountain to find the grounds in chaos. Selecting a random spot to rest, the two sat in silence.

"Master, now that our sect can no longer appear openly, what are your plans?" Qin Yi asked. Truthfully, he himself had no idea what to do next. Staying here was obviously not a good long-term solution. But traveling elsewhere would require official travel documents.

His own father’s status was still clean; he hadn’t even used his real name when taken to the army camp—a clever move. So long as Qin Yi could rescue him, his father would be a lawful resident of Cangwu Town.

As for himself, now registered as a Daoist initiate of Qingwei Dao Palace, and with the temple having rebelled against the garrison, things were more complicated.

"I’m one of the palace’s elders—Pang Shaozheng will never let me go. I have no choice but to hide deep in the mountains and wait to see how things unfold," Wang Qingxuan said helplessly. He continued, "As for you, you were only a common disciple. No one will pay attention to you. No one else knows you killed Xue Yintu, and your registration was purchased. So with a bit of maneuvering, you can still live openly."

"You mean…" Qin Yi’s eyes lit up.

"The world is in chaos now, refugees everywhere. It’s easier than ever to acquire a new identity."

"Master, do you have a way?"

"Outside Jiangning Prefecture, there’s a fellow sect—one of the nine major branches of our Daoist tradition, the Fangxian Order. An old friend of mine, Yang Yuanzi, serves as steward there—I once saved his life when we were young. I’ll write him a letter, asking him to help you obtain a new registration and identity. There should be no problem," Wang Qingxuan said.

"Will it really be safe?" Qin Yi’s implication was clear—would he be exposed?

"Don’t worry. I trust this friend. Besides, I won’t sign my name on the letter—he’ll recognize my handwriting and understand my meaning."

"In that case, Master, I owe you a great debt," Qin Yi said with a bow.

"We are master and disciple—no need for such formality." Wang Qingxuan waved a hand, then added, "Of all the disciples I have taught, only that Wang Hongbo turned out to be so ungrateful, and now he’s brought our entire sect to the brink of extinction."