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Edited by: Michyrr

The Tang Second Master had a handsome face.

But when he made one of his habitually noiseless laughs, his face always seemed exaggerated and comical.

Wang Po did not like this way of laughing as he found it like a veil, concealing many emotions.

Many years ago, when he first went to Wenshui and met the Second Master at the Tang clan’s ancestral shrine, he instantly disliked him.

At the time, the Tang Second Master saw the shabbily dressed Wang Po, slightly rolled his eyes, and noiselessly laughed. He looked at Wang Po like he was some stray dog on the road or some destitute relative taking shelter from the rain under a fence.

At the time, Wang Po saw his face and developed an intense impulse, a desire.

He wanted to wave the metal blade in his hand and smash the Tang Second Master’s laughing face into pieces.

However, out of respect for the Tang Old Master, out of respect for his job as an accountant, he did not carry out this desire.

Thus, this desire remained at the bottom of his heart, yet even after many years, it did not weaken in the slightest.

This state persisted until today, when he saw the Tang Second Master walk out of the tea house and that handsome face once more make that shameless and voiceless laugh. Wang Po could no longer suppress this impulse.

Kindness was truly as weighty as a mountain, but his blade had hungered and thirsted for far too long.

Thus, he had waved his metal blade.

In Wenshui, when they were all still young, he was unable to smash apart the Tang Second Master’s sneering smile. That was because he did not want to, because he was enduring.

Now, he no longer wanted to endure, he wanted to smash, so he naturally smashed.

It was truly difficult to trace the Tang clan’s secret movement technique, the Myriad Golden Leaves. It was an extremely profound technique, but it was nothing in Wang Po’s eyes.

On his second month in Wenshui, the Tang Second Master had gone to the accounting house and personally taught him this movement technique.

He did not need to unsheathe his blade. With his blade still in its sheath, he could still beat the Tang Second Master until he couldn’t speak.

The Tang Second Master sat in the snow, his face covered in blood, his eyes burning with an indescribable loathing.

"My Tang clan wants to preserve your life...since you don’t care and want to court death, go die then."

Wang Po had stood up, gripped his blade, and had even struck him. This naturally meant that he had refused the Wenshui Tang clan’s request.

He wanted to kill Zhou Tong together with Chen Changsheng, so he had to fight a proper battle with Tie Shu.

"It hasn’t even begun; how can you call it courting death?"

Wang Po looked at the Tang Second Master and said, "This is an aspect where you don’t compare to me, Xun Mei, or Xiao Zhang."

In the opening of this young generation of blooming wildflowers, several extraordinary names had been written.

Wang Po, Xun Mei, Xiao Zhang, Liang Wangsun, Xiao De...

Very few people remembered that at the very beginning, there was also someone with the surname ’Tang’ on this list.

"All of them are like you, never able to catch up to me, whether in talent or destiny. But none of them gave up—none of them stopped chasing after me."

Wang Po’s gaze rested on the end of the snowy street.

He knew that Xiao De was over there, and that Xiao Zhang might also appear.

Liang Wangsun had taken refuge in Xunyang City, and Xun Mei would no longer be able to appear.

"Cultivating the Dao and fighting are both the same: until the final moment is reached, success and failure cannot be decided. Ultimately, Xun Mei managed to catch up to me at the Mausoleum of Books. Xiao Zhang also still has a chance."

Wang Po returned his gaze to the Tang Second Master as he continued, "While you fought one match with me in Wenshui, felt that you would never be a match for me, and shifted to guessing at the human mind, studying how to scheme...that was an admission of defeat. From that moment on, you became trash, losing any hope of defeating me, becoming inferior to me for the rest of your life."

The Tang Second Master had a vacant gaze, seeming slightly at a loss.

Wang Po’s voice was very calm, carrying no sense of deliberate scorn. It was a voice of cool and objective judgment.

But anyone would feel a certain way upon hearing these words, a feeling that they were being looked down upon.

Because written all over these words was the word ’invincible’.

This was an expert.

Against those opponents who also enjoyed a famous reputation, perhaps Wang Po had a somewhat higher cultivation, but it was not enough to crush them.

Such opponents included Xiao Zhang and Liang Wangsun.

However, in a true fight, he had never once lost, and would often gain victory through a crushing momentum.

This was because in terms of demeanor, will, mentality, and understanding of himself and this world, he was too far above them.

Tie Shu felt admiration and regret as he watched Wang Po.

Talented people appeared out of the rivers and hills with each generation, each with their own works that would last for decades, but which of these experts would be able to establish such dominance over their peers, to possess such an imposing demeanor?

(TN: For the beginning of this line, see the translation note for chapter 100.)

And this wasn’t even considering the fact that in these decades over which the young generation of blooming wildflowers persisted, countless cultivators overflowing with talent had surged out like bamboo shoots after a rain.

Yet Wang Po had relied on just his single blade to suppress these experts and geniuses until they found it hard to breathe, difficult to stand out.

No one else besides Zhou Dufu had been able to accomplish something similar.

Admiration and regret ultimately led to the entire world growing wary and uneasy.

This was why Zhu Luo was willing to offer his death so that Wang Po would die.

Since Wang Po was not intending to take the Wenshui Tang clan’s advice, Tie Shu would naturally kill Wang Po, and was even in somewhat of a hurry to do so.

Just as he had wanted to do in Tanzhe Temple.

Because it was only now that he, or Bie Yanghong, or Wuqiong Bi, still had the ability to kill Wang Po.

If they were just a tad too slow, if just a few more days passed, if snow were to fall another one or two times, what would happen?

In another few days, after another two periods of snow, maybe they would already be unable to kill Wang Po.

This sort of awareness truly made one uneasy.

Even the starry sky that encapsulated the world would shudder in unease.

At that time, would a second Zhou Dufu appear in the human world?

No, even if it was just an assumption, it could not be allowed to happen.

Tie Shu looked at Wang Po and said, "My apologies."

There were many reasons he should apologize, whether it was the oath to the starry skies, the strong bullying the weak, the old bullying the young, or the death of a future giant of humanity.

Wang Po did not respond to his apology, as in his view, his loss in today’s battle was not guaranteed.

Yes, perhaps the entire continent did not believe that he could win, even if he was Wang Po.

However, he himself believed it was possible.

Because the dark rain that had fallen over Xunyang City had been very swift, the fallen leaves of Tanzhe Temple had been very beautiful, layer after layer of winter willows grew by the Luo River, and all this had been like a fog, yet it was impossible for any of them to obscure his eyes.

Wang Po raised his blade and pointed it at Tie Shu, his actions steady and simple.

But his blade slightly shuddered.

It was not fear, but a desire for battle, the courage to challenge.

Many days had passed since Tanzhe Temple, and he had still not unsheathed his blade once.

Anyone could tell that this blade would be the strongest blade he had struck with in his life.

He was separated from Tie Shu by a single table. Logically speaking, this raised blade should have touched Tie Shu’s clothes.

However, when he raised the blade, they seemed to be separated by a vast river, the distance between them enormous. It was simply impossible for the blade to touch Tie Shu’s clothes.

Was this enormous distance between the mortal world and the Divine Domain?

Would his metal blade be able to disregard this distance and fall above the starry sky?

Nobody knew.

Before Wang Po unsheathed his blade, the possibilities were limitless.

When he unsheathed his blade, the limitless possibilities would collapse into a single truth.

The entire world was waiting to see this single truth, not knowing just who would find themselves unable to endure this truth.

At this moment, Tie Shu made a choice.

This choice was very simple, but it represented an experience spanning centuries.

He chose to strike.

He would not let Wang Po unsheathe his blade.

He decided to not give Wang Po the chance to unsheathe his blade.

No matter what sort of truth this blade held, he did not wish to see it.

His purpose had always been to kill Wang Po, not to see Wang Po’s blade.

When he decided to strike, no one could possibly move faster.

Only if his opponent was also an expert of the Divine Domain, Xu Yourong in her divine form, or Nanke would they be able to compare.

Wang Po was none of these.

Thus, Tie Shu’s hands first fell on Wang Po’s blade.

At this point, Wang Po’s blade was still sheathed.

The snow falling from the sky suddenly froze in place.

A clap of thunder rumbled through the street.

The buildings standing on both sides of the street were instantly rendered into powder.

The countless snowflakes frozen in the sky also transformed into powder.

The dust settled and the clouds scattered. The street was devoid of people, both Wang Po and Tie Shu vanishing without a trace.

Yet the thunder continued, lingering and rumbling without end.

Ultimately, it crashed into the Luo River.