The dark-faced elder narrowed his eyes, sizing him up, and approached step by step, his expression grave.

The onlookers found it ridiculous; this boy had only one breath left, unable to stir up any real trouble, so why take him so seriously?

Li Muzhan smiled, “If you want to fight, fight quickly; don’t waste time. For a dying man like me, time is the most precious commodity!”

The dark-faced elder said in a deep voice, “Time for your journey!”

He thrust his sword out fiercely, like a silver snake darting from its lair, speeding like an arrow loosed from a bow, aimed directly at Li Muzhan’s heart—so swift as to be unavoidable.

Li Muzhan neither dodged nor avoided, merely bringing his saber down in one sweeping cut. This strike seemed feather-light, lacking in apparent force, yet it arrived before the sword tip, preempting the elder’s attack and targeting the crown of his head.

The dark-faced elder was forced to change his move. He hadn't expected Li Muzhan’s saber to be so fast. He retracted his sword and retreated, hoping to sweep aside Li Muzhan’s blow and pull out the tiger’s fangs.

As long as Li Muzhan lived, he remained a tiger; the dark-faced elder dared not underestimate him. Caution was the better part of valor, and he had no desire to capsize his boat in a ditch.

“Ding…………” The dark-faced elder felt an irresistible, surging power transmit through his sword, turbulent as a raging tide. His feet remained planted, but his body was pushed back a full zhang, his feet tracing two parallel lines in the dust.

“Heh!” The dark-faced elder expelled a mouthful of stale air. Fortunately, his skin was naturally bronzed, masking the flush of red that crept onto his face.

He proceeded cautiously, worried that Li Muzhan was holding back some secret technique; a final counterattack from a dying man is often the most lethal. Yet, he hadn't expected this one saber strike from Li Muzhan to possess such devastating might.

Had it carried this much power earlier, the few of them might truly not have been able to subdue him; victory or defeat would have been uncertain.

“Let me handle this!” a burly, red-faced elder stated solemnly.

The dark-faced elder waved a hand dismissively, “I’ll do it!”

He stared coldly at Li Muzhan and nodded, “I didn't expect your martial skill to increase so dramatically before death. What a pity, such a waste!”

“To hear the Way in the morning and die by evening is nothing to regret. If I can take you with me, so much the better. Hurry up, don’t wait for this last breath to leave me!” Li Muzhan chuckled.

His voice had grown weaker; he felt his strength slowly draining away, as if a skin sac had been punctured, leaving him increasingly feeble. His body felt soft and yielding, everything growing lighter.

He sighed—this was the onset of death, his soul preparing to depart his body. He vaguely perceived an auspicious light in the sky, where faint figures seemed to gather.

The existence of the Western Pure Land was doubted by most people, but he knew that highly advanced Buddhist masters, upon achieving yuanji (passing away), were escorted to that place.

His cultivation in this lifetime had granted him deep meditative stillness (chanding), coupled with an awakening of the true mind, resulting in profound attainment. Nevertheless, his spirit was still poised to ascend to the Western Pure Land.

These matters, somewhat mystical and unbelievable, he never spoke of. People trust only what they see; what is heard is often false. Even if he were in their place, he would think the same.

………………………………

The dark-faced elder approached slowly, his right hand gripping the sword hilt tightly. He could see that, at the moment of death, Li Muzhan’s comprehension of the saber path had reached an astonishing level. Though he appeared weak, he could unleash such a fearsome strike. It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

If he hadn't been injured, the group might not have been able to surround him now!

He suddenly let out a sharp cry, merging man and sword into one, shooting toward Li Muzhan like a rainbow piercing the sun. The sword tip instantly reached his chest.

Li Muzhan shifted his body slightly, allowing the long sword to pierce his right lung, while his long saber flashed. The dark-faced elder recoiled violently, and with a sharp hiss, a mist of blood sprayed out.

The dark-faced elder hurriedly covered his chest, blood gushing between his fingers, pouring ceaselessly downward. His dark face instantly turned pale, tinged with blue.

He stared blankly at Li Muzhan, his face filled with disbelief. This saber strike seemed to ignore the barriers of time and space, passing directly by his body. If not for a sudden warning sign prompting him to step back, this blow would have cleaved him in two!

“Cough, cough, cough, cough!” Li Muzhan leaned against the pine tree, letting out a long sigh. It seemed he had lost this gamble; the Lake Lord had not yet appeared, was truly not nearby!

Even so, he didn't regret holding back the Da Ming Wang Jing. For the sake of Canghai Mountain, he had to abandon this world, leaving a sense of melancholy and desolation in his heart.

“Alas…” He tilted his head back, gazing toward the southeast, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze grew hazy, losing focus, his soul on the verge of leaving his body.

“Damn it, I’ll kill you!” A burly middle-aged man roared, charging forward, his sword waving into a blur of shadow, sweeping down as if to grind Li Muzhan into a pile of mince. Only by doing this could he quell the hatred in his heart.

Li Muzhan looked toward the southeast, a smile lingering on his lips, and casually swung his saber outward.

“Hiss!” With a faint whistle, the burly man retreated sharply, a jet of blood spurting from his left shoulder. His left arm remained on the ground where he had been standing; his body retreated, but his limb stayed put.

Li Muzhan’s strike seemed to transcend the limits of space and time, cutting straight through whatever it encountered, allowing no opportunity for reaction.

“My turn!” Another gray-robed man lunged forward. When he reached within a zhang of Li Muzhan, he suddenly flung a cloud of hidden weapons from his right hand.

This volley of projectiles shimmered with blue light and was varied: iron seedpods, flying darts, short arrows, silver needles, iron thorns—all manner of hidden weapons completely enveloping Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan remained focused on the southeast, as if sighting Star Lake Lodge, his smile widening. He lazily waved his saber, unleashing a scattering of cold light.

………………………………, Ding, ding, ding……, amidst a cascade of clear ringing sounds, the scattered points of blue light one by one dropped lifelessly at Li Muzhan’s feet.

He didn’t blink, nor did he glance at his attacker, maintaining his gaze toward the southeast, appearing lost in thought, his expression somewhat vacant.

Seeing this, the gray-robed middle-aged man grew furious, resentful that Li Muzhan treated him with such utter disregard. He hurled another volley of projectiles, determined to strike Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan sighed, turned his head, leaning against the tree to swing his saber, while simultaneously flicking his left hand. A streak of electric light flashed, and the gray-robed man clutched his throat and slowly slumped backward.

“Ding ding ding ding…” “Bang!”

Li Muzhan’s right saber blocked the projectiles, and the gray-robed man crashed heavily to the ground. The sounds coincided, and Li Muzhan instantly turned back to gaze southeast, his face ashen white, his breathing heavy.

He sighed, suddenly lowering his long saber. With a strange smile, he looked at the group of men. They watched him in astonishment, wondering what he intended to do.

Did he finally intend to surrender his blade? No matter what, he absolutely could not be allowed to live, having killed so many fellow disciples of the Heavenly Secret Tower; how could they let him walk free!?

Li Muzhan smiled faintly, then suddenly flung both hands outward. Two streaks of electric light vanished in a flash, like an illusion.

“Uh…,” … “Uh… Uh… Uh…,” …

Several groans echoed. Four men clutched their throats and slowly fell backward. The power of the flying darts, imbued with saber intent, had become overwhelmingly potent and impossible to defend against.

“Watch out for hidden weapons!” Everyone was startled and hurriedly retreated several steps, widening the distance between themselves and Li Muzhan.

At this point, Li Muzhan’s eyes were already glazed over; he muttered soundlessly, reciting the Vajra Sutra, a look of pure joy blooming on his face, as if a child seeing its mother.

His vision was suddenly flooded with brilliant light; he knew his time had come. He glanced back at the terrified crowd, then at the lush pine woods, and the clear blue sky.

He closed his eyes, his body leaning entirely against the tree, utterly still.

As his eyes closed and his breath ceased, he was dead, his soul about to depart his body and step into the light, moving toward the Western Paradise. Suddenly, a muffled grunt sounded, and the departing soul was instantly fixed in place.

“Hmph!” With a dull sound, Li Muzhan felt a white shadow flash before his eyes, instantly appearing before him. A faint, delicate fragrance drifted near his nose, which he recognized instantly as Leng Wushuang’s scent, and a smile touched his lips.

At this moment, his eyes were closed, but as his soul returned, his five senses immediately recovered, and his spiritual perception grew extraordinarily sharp. Though he did not open his eyes, he could see the scene before him.

Leng Wushuang flashed to his side, and then flashed again, wrapping an arm around his waist, and vanishing. By the time the others reacted, the two were gone.

“Pursue!” the dark-faced elder roared, immediately following up with violent coughing fits, bending over to gasp for air. Li Muzhan’s saber strike carried a strange power, and his injuries had worsened.

The group scattered immediately, chasing in various directions. They hadn't seen which way Leng Wushuang fled; she disappeared in a flash, leaving them no choice but a grid search.

…………………………, Li Muzhan felt a rush of wind against his face. Leng Wushuang’s expression was stern, like still water. He glanced down at himself; his eyes were still closed, looking indistinguishable from a corpse.

Leng Wushuang’s speed was incredible; in one flash, she covered over thirty zhang, displaying miraculous lightness skill. Soon, they arrived at a small town and proceeded directly to a small courtyard.

The courtyard was not large, and it was very tranquil. Leng Wushuang floated inside and proceeded into the bedroom.

Li Muzhan was gently placed onto the soft bed. He remained motionless, his breath completely gone, looking exactly as if he were dead. Leng Wushuang placed both palms on his chest and infused a breath of qi into him.

This stream of energy was warm, like the spring sun, entering his heart and bringing a comforting warmth. He felt sleepy but fought to stay awake, wanting to see what Leng Wushuang would do.

Leng Wushuang took a small jade vial from her robes, poured out a snow-white pill, about the length of a small finger, and brought it to Li Muzhan’s mouth.

Li Muzhan’s lips were tightly closed. Leng Wushuang lightly tapped beneath his jaw, and his mouth instantly opened. The pill dissolved the moment it entered, becoming a clear vapor that drifted down his throat.

Leng Wushuang then rapidly tapped ten pressure points with her fingers. With each tap, a different kind of energy—some cool, some warm, some icy, some scorching—entered his body.

After ten or so touches, she pressed her palm onto Li Muzhan’s heart and gave a gentle shake. Another surge of warmth, like sunshine, poured in, directly enveloping his heart.

Then, he felt an immense power surge downward, entering through the Baihui point. His body felt as if it belonged to someone else. With a sudden “Huo!” he sat bolt upright and opened his eyes.

“Hoo…” Leng Wushuang let out a long breath, her face drawn with exhaustion, gazing at Li Muzhan with emotion.

Li Muzhan also let out a deep sigh, turning to survey his surroundings: “Lake Lord, why are you here?”