Wu Tong understood well that "all things in this world have their place, and heroes are born of Heaven itself."These two were a pair destined by fate.
Looking back upon the road he had walked, more than a decade in the jianghu had come and gone. It was time—time to bring it all to an end and retreat into the mountains. Yet before that, there remained one final task—something that must be carried from the imperial capital of Chang'an to the Western Regions…
Fallen blossoms spoke no words.No wind stirred the drifting leaves.Only a lingering melancholy filled the air.
Wu Tong was the first to break the silence.
"At dawn tomorrow, I will depart for the Tianshan Mountains. Once you've settled your matters, come find me. If you wish to learn of my whereabouts, the Hall of Loyalty has branches throughout the Western Regions."
He paused, then continued:
"Wei'er, Jian'er has already opened the Ren and Du meridians—few in the martial world can rival him now. As for you, you've opened six of the extraordinary channels, but you still lack experience. Watch over him carefully. In any case, when you walk the jianghu together—be cautious. It grows late. I'll hunt for food; you prepare the fire."
That night, the three of them feasted on wild game before retiring to rest.
A verse was composed:
A hero's words resound across the world,Yet who could foresee a maiden's love?Not to remain, yet to walk beside you—Beneath the moon, to the ends of the earth.
The night was like water, cool and still. Moonlight cast long shadows of the three figures. A gentle breeze rustled through the treetops.
Tan Wei sat by the fire, absentmindedly turning dry twigs in her hands. Her heart was heavy beyond words. She had never imagined that this night would be her last with Uncle Tong. To her, he was both mentor and father. Now he would depart for the distant Western Regions—how could she not feel the ache of parting?
Li Jian, too, stared into the flames, his thoughts tangled. From an ordinary constable, he had stumbled into the vast currents of the martial world, guided by Wu Tong's hand. Now he stood at the threshold of a true jianghu life.
And yet… without Wu Tong beside him, the path ahead felt uncertain.
At dawn the next day—
"Wei'er!" Li Jian called out suddenly.
She had already searched everywhere.
"Something's wrong… Uncle Tong is gone!"
At the place where Wu Tong had slept, Li Jian found a letter weighed down by a stone—along with a considerable sum of silver notes.
The letter explained that Wu Tong had urgent matters to attend to and had already departed for the Western Regions. It instructed the two of them to visit the Beggars' Sect and pay respects to the Beggar Chief, for the Central Plains were in turmoil, with factions clashing across the martial world.
This would be their chance—to roam the jianghu in the name of the new Hall Master of Loyalty, to establish their reputation.
They were also to seek out the eccentric master known as "Western Madman" Situ Kong, retrieve the Wolong Saber, and then proceed to the Anxi Protectorate in the Western Regions.
Tan Wei's hands trembled as she held the letter, tears welling in her eyes.
"He just… left like this… not even a farewell…"
Li Jian gently took her hand.
"Uncle Tong has his mission. He left this way so we wouldn't hold him back."
She lifted her gaze toward the distant horizon.
"But without him… can we really make it?"
Li Jian inhaled deeply, his eyes resolute.
"We must not fail his expectations. We've already walked through life and death. Whatever lies ahead—we go on."
The wind stirred through the forest, carrying away yesterday's warmth… and ushering in the trials of tomorrow.
After their provisions ran out, the two returned to Crescent Spring to fish. Before long, they caught eight fish—three carp and five iron-backed fish.
Just as they were about to return to their cave near Leiyin Temple—
A group of lamas approached.
Their leader leered at Tan Wei.
"What a beauty. Care to have some fun with us?"
He reached toward her face.
Before he could touch her—
Palm strike!
Tan Wei struck him squarely, sending him tumbling to the ground.
The other lamas immediately surrounded them.
One shouted:
"You foolish girl! If the Living Buddha desires a woman, she will not escape. Come quietly!"
Li Jian's fury ignited.
"If you do not provoke me, I will not provoke you. But you—monks who drink, eat meat, and now abduct women—this I will not ignore!"
Yet none listened.
Instead, one sneered:
"What do you know? This is the Dharma of Bliss—dual cultivation of man and woman. Beyond the understanding of mortals. Attack!"
Two lamas charged forward.
Li Jian snorted coldly.
"Good. You've come to me. Let me see what you're capable of."
With a single motion—
One palm struck.
A lama flew several meters, crashing to the ground.
Another rushed in—
Li Jian met him head-on. A second strike sent him flying, blood spraying.
The surrounding lamas were stunned.
The leader stepped forward—Qu Ni Ciren, disciple of a great master of Tianshan, now self-proclaimed "Living Buddha of Qinghai."
"This boy has some skill! But we have numbers—do not fear him!"
The lamas drew closer, weapons in hand—bronze cymbals like twin blades.
Tan Wei called out anxiously:
"Brother Jian, don't fight! Let's find a chance to leave!"
But Li Jian's voice was firm:
"They rely on numbers. If I do not strike hard today, we may not leave at all."