Finally, the day of the duel between Jin Tianwang (金天王), known as the Merry Meanderer (乐游者), and Shi Muoyong (石魔勇), the Descendant of the Stone Fiend (石魔之后), had arrived. Although the martial world across the land knew victory would almost certainly fall to Shi Muoyong, this battle still commanded immense attention. Masters and commoners alike flocked from every direction toward Howling Wolf Mountain, home to The Defying Heaven Sect (逆天派), to witness this monumental confrontation.
Shi Muoyong had prepared himself tirelessly for three nights and two days. Rising this morning, he felt his body and spirit surging with extraordinary vigor. To claim he lacked confidence in this duel would be a lie. The Nine Heavens Armor Art (九天战甲真气) was a supreme technique, long revered across the realm as invincible. If any master were truly worthy of clashing with him, it was Jin Tianwang. Despite admiring the man as a role model for years, deep within his heart, Shi Muoyong harbored a burning desire to surpass him with his own hands.
That morning, Shi Muoyong took his breakfast in the Great Hall, surrounded by his closest companions in full attendance. The table was adorned with exquisite delicacies, their aromas stoking his appetite. Despite it being a simple morning meal, he consumed over two large bowls of rice, while his sworn brother, Ouyang Laobai (欧阳老柏), seemed to take particular delight in the feast.
Among those at the table, however, only Zhou Songyi (周松义) wore a troubled expression.
Though she had severed her romantic feelings for Jin Tianwang and accepted her betrothal to Shi Muoyong—with their wedding set for the following month—her past ties still caused her deep concern. She knew Shi Muoyong held a sincere affection for Jin Tianwang, even addressing him as a brother. Yet, in a duel between masters of such caliber, life and death hung by a thread. Protected by the Nine Heavens Armor Art, Shi Muoyong was practically impossible to defeat; if Jin Tianwang threw his entire life force into the collision, he might meet a fatal end. For the past two nights, Zhou Songyi could barely close her eyes, haunted by visions of Jin Tianwang’s demise and Fan Qingqing’s boundless grief.
Shi Muoyong had been observing Zhou Songyi’s countenance. Occasionally, he offered her a smile—gentle yet steady—as if seeking to comfort her without words.
When breakfast concluded, the disciples and members of The Defying Heaven Sect filed out to the front courtyard to await Jin Tianwang's arrival. The area before the sect gates had been prepared with utmost dignity; dozens of large parasols stood in neat rows alongside tables and chairs for Shi Muoyong and his esteemed guests.
Shi Muoyong sat beneath the largest parasol at the center, resting upon an intricately carved wooden chair prepared specifically for him. He sat alone, his face so perfectly calm that he hardly looked like a man about to enter a battle that could shift the fate of the martial world. Not far behind him sat Ouyang Laobai, known as "One Word Ends Life" (一言绝命), and Ouyang Laoxian (欧阳劳仙), the "Carefree Laughing Elder" (逍遥笑翁).
Despite his advanced age, Ouyang Laoxian lacked the composure typical of an elder. "How much longer must we wait for this Jin brat?" he grumbled irritably.
Ouyang Laobai whispered a polite reply, "The duel was set for this day, but no specific hour was determined."
Ouyang Laoxian frowned deeply. "If he leaves us waiting until dusk, wouldn't that be a mockery?"
"He will arrive before noon, for certain," Ouyang Laobai replied confidently.
"How can you be so sure? Tell me where he stays, and I shall go fetch him myself!"
"Grandfather, do not be impatient," Ouyang Laobai urged. "Jin Tianwang is not a man to break his word, nor is he one for petty tricks. He will surely come."
Though Ouyang Laobai had once lost to Jin Tianwang, that defeat was laced with profound respect. He had intended to seek a rematch, but fate had led Jin Tianwang to face Shi Muoyong first. No one, not even he, could defy the will of Heaven.
Overhearing the exchange, Shi Muoyong turned back, offering Ouyang Laobai a nod and a smile brimming with camaraderie and absolute confidence. Ouyang Laobai found himself smiling back. Since swearing brotherhood with Shi Muoyong, he had become a man who smiled far more often, perhaps influenced by his sworn brother's perpetual warmth.
Meanwhile, at a small, quiet cottage in the middle of a field—the lodging Jin Tianwang had rented—he and Fan Qingqing were sharing breakfast. In this simple home, their meal consisted only of a pot of congee they had cooked together.
Born into wealth, Fan Qingqing had never cooked for herself; her skills could not compare to those of Jin Tianwang, who had spent a lifetime wandering the wilderness and mastering self-reliance. As the pot of congee rested on the floor, its steam carrying a faint, comforting aroma, a warm and blissful smile graced Jin Tianwang’s face.
Fan Qingqing looked up at the man before her. He had only one eye remaining, yet it was filled with unwavering tenderness. She gazed at him for a long time before a smile finally touched her own lips, though tears unknowingly welled in her eyes.
Seeing his beloved wife smiling through her tears, Jin Tianwang said nothing. He merely ate his congee in a hurry, and upon finishing, asked for a second bowl.
"If I can have congee like this every morning, I desire nothing else in this life," he said with a light, remarkably sincere laugh.
Fan Qingqing’s smile widened until her lips trembled, and tears finally spilled down her cheeks. She bowed her head and ate, nodding repeatedly as if fearing this fleeting moment of happiness might vanish if she did not cherish it immediately.
"Qingqing," Jin Tianwang said softly, "one should smile and laugh as much as possible. How can one walk through a life filled only with sorrow?"
Fan Qingqing paused, meeting his gaze. Despite her tears, she spoke words he did not expect. "That is not so... for sometimes, tears signify a happiness even greater than a smile."
Jin Tianwang fell silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. The smile that typically graced his face faded, replaced by a strangely grim expression.
"Why have you stopped smiling?" she asked, bewildered.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Jin Tianwang shook his head slightly. "I have no more tears. Thus, when I am so overcome with joy that I wish to weep, this is the face I make."
Fan Qingqing let out a soft giggle at his serious demeanor. "Haha... so this is the face of one weeping with joy?"
Jin Tianwang looked at her, his single eye reflecting a profound warmth. "I am truly happy. As long as I have you by my side, I want for nothing."
Before his words could even settle, Fan Qingqing’s expression shifted. Her voice, once sweet, turned sharp, and her gaze grew piercing. "If that is true... then why must you go to this life-threatening duel?"
"I go to a duel, but it is not a risk to my life. Moreover, my opponent is an old friend; why must it end in the death of either side?"
"The Nine Heavens Armor Art is not merely an invincible defense; it is rumored to draw out an opponent's internal energy until they are withered and empty. Even both of your masters died in such a manner!"
"Qingqing, I will not lose. I will return to you."
"You say you will not lose, but are you certain of victory? Why can we not simply forget this duel, live our lives, and never involve ourselves with the martial world again?"
"I..."
"Are you about to apologize? Why do you need those words? We can simply leave. In your life, isn't it only me that you need?"
Jin Tianwang could no longer eat his congee in peace. Setting his bowl aside, he pulled Fan Qingqing into a firm embrace and whispered into her ear, "Do not worry. I will return."
"You..." Fan Qingqing wanted to say so much more, but her voice failed her.
Jin Tianwang parted from her to begin his journey to the sect. Fan Qingqing tried to follow, but he stopped her, his voice firm yet brimming with affection. "Cook the rice and wait for me. I shall return to have lunch with you."
With that, he turned away without a moment of hesitation and hurried off. Fan Qingqing watched him go, her face drenched in tears. She knew this departure carried far more peril than promise. Exhausted, she returned to lie on the pile of straw, intending to wake up and prepare his noon meal.
Jin Tianwang was not rich. He had no fame or fortune. He possessed no great power or influence. But he had always kept his promises to Fan Qingqing. When he said he would return for lunch, she felt a strange sense of certainty. Perhaps it was the trust a wife has in her husband, or the profound bond between two people in love. Or perhaps, it was merely a hope she had built to comfort herself, knowing full well he was marching to face the peerless power of the Nine Heavens Armor Art.
A thunderous cheer erupted as Jin Tianwang reached the foot of Wolf Mountain. The roar did not cease; it only grew louder as he made his way toward the sect. With thousands of eyes fixed upon him, he felt a flicker of bashfulness and nerves, yet his footsteps remained remarkably steady, his expression calm and composed.
Upon seeing his arrival, Shi Muoyong rose immediately and walked out to greet him personally, followed by his disciples in a formal procession. Jin Tianwang bowed respectfully before the crowd.
"This humble one apologizes for keeping you all waiting so long."
Shi Muoyong welcomed him with a warm smile. "Not at all, Brother Jin. You are not late. Arriving at this hour is perfect." He then invited Jin Tianwang to rest in the shade, ordering tea to quench the thirst of his old friend and greatest rival.
Jin Tianwang accepted the tea and drained it in a single gulp. As he set the cup down, his eyes met Shi Muoyong’s. The smiles they had shared faded into solemn silence. Jin Tianwang stood up and made a gesture of invitation. Shi Muoyong rose in response.
A sudden, heavy silence descended upon the surroundings. All chatter ceased instantly. Every eye locked onto the two men who would decide their fates today. Jin Tianwang wore a yellow tunic of coarse cloth and simple black cloth shoes, while Shi Muoyong wore a shimmering silver robe and black leather boots, exuding a majestic, formidable aura.
They walked side by side to the wide arena prepared for the duel. Reaching the center, Jin Tianwang walked a few steps further, stopped, and turned back. His gaze locked onto Shi Muoyong's with absolute resolve.
"Sect Leader Shi, please." "Brother Jin, please."
With those final words, Jin Tianwang lunged forward.
His right fist shot out without a sound, swift as the wind. Shi Muoyong raised his left arm to block the impact, instantly flipping his right palm to strike back. Jin Tianwang evaded the blow by a hair's breadth and landed a precise left punch directly on Shi Muoyong’s face. However, shielded by the Nine Heavens Armor Art, Shi Muoyong felt no pain at all.
In the blink of an eye, Shi Muoyong unleashed his supreme palm technique. Waves of heat surged as he delivered a relentless barrage of strikes—one palm shadow following another before the first could even fade, as complex and overwhelming as a firestorm.
But Jin Tianwang did not retreat. Somersaulting over Shi Muoyong’s head, he landed a heavy right punch on the back of his opponent’s neck. The moment his fist connected, however, a powerful counter-shock surged back through his arm. Simultaneously, the scorching palms continued their relentless pursuit. Spinning in mid-air, Jin Tianwang delivered a rapid kick, his foot snaking past the onslaught of fiery palms to strike Shi Muoyong’s chin with pinpoint accuracy.
Shi Muoyong’s stance broke, causing him to stumble slightly to the side. At the exact same moment, the repulsive force from the armor art blasted Jin Tianwang back in the opposite direction.
Shi Muoyong burst into laughter, his voice thick with admiration and battle-lust. "Haha! Brother Jin, your techniques are concise and extraordinarily ingenious. I cannot compare at all."
Jin Tianwang smiled, his face perfectly calm. "Sect Leader Shi has the protection of the Armor Art; it is I who can do nothing to you."
Shi Muoyong shook his head slightly. "I fear that without the Nine Heavens Armor Art, I would have no chance of victory against you."
"Sect Leader is being too modest," Jin Tianwang replied flatly.
Shi Muoyong fixed him with a deadly serious gaze. "If I were to use the fifth stage of the Armor Art to withstand your piercing fist, what would you think?"
Jin Tianwang gave a slight nod. "Then, Brother, circulate your energy and prepare yourself. I shall also manifest the Ninefold Heaven-Piercing Fist (九天破拳)."
Shi Muoyong nodded once. His face was calm, but his eyes flashed with a sharp brilliance—a great storm gathering behind the silence. Jin Tianwang took a deep breath, his internal energy coiling into a singular point of focus before he stepped forward.
The moment his foot struck the ground, an explosion thundered through the arena. Dust and debris erupted into the air, as if the earth itself were being torn asunder. Within the dense curtain of dust, two more explosions followed in rapid succession before everything fell abruptly, terrifyingly silent.
The spectators held their breath in tense anticipation. As the dust slowly settled, two figures were revealed standing amidst the haze. The martial world speculated wildly: had the Heaven-Piercing Fist shattered the invincible armor? Or had the Armor Art absorbed the piercing energy entirely?
Finally, the smoke cleared.
Shi Muoyong emerged, his face as pale as a ghost. Yet in the next heartbeat, he erupted into a fit of wild, maniacal laughter. The sound echoed across the arena before he turned and walked back into his sect without a single backward glance.
However, the second figure remaining in the mist was not Jin Tianwang.
The man standing there was Gao Qingxin (高青心), the legend known as "Like the Demon Lord" (如天妖). Looking up, he shouted with a raspy yet overwhelmingly powerful voice:
"Shi Muoyong is the peerless master of this world!"
With that absolute proclamation, Gao Qingxin leaped into the air and vanished.
The words of Gao Qingxin carried the weight of ultimate judgment, and thus the outcome was accepted by the world. Yet, among many martial artists, a profound doubt still lingered. What truly happened within that curtain of dust? Did Shi Muoyong truly drain Jin Tianwang’s energy until he was empty? And at exactly what moment did Jin Tianwang vanish from the arena?
No one could answer.
After that fateful duel, The Defying Heaven Sect flourished with unmatched masters, and no one dared to rise in opposition. The martial world proceeded according to the rules set by the sect. A peace such as had never been seen before took hold; bloodshed grew rare, as all lived under the iron law forged in the name of Shi Muoyong—the peerless master of this era.
