Chapter 980: A Distance as Close as the Ends of the Earth

Wang Chongyang also looked quite frustrated, thinking to himself that he was the renowned number one in the wulin—despite many top experts not attending the Mount Hua sword debate that year, today he had been thoroughly humiliated in front of a junior. The key was, he had just lost a match and had no grounds to argue back.

Fortunately, over the years, he had cultivated his mind and temperament, and Wang Chongyang’s temper had improved significantly compared to decades ago. Otherwise, with his competitive nature back then, he would definitely have challenged his opponent to another match.

Wang Chongyang coughed twice, then directly removed the mask from his face, revealing a slender, clear face.

Even if he looked at him unfavorably, Song Qingshu had to admit that, despite his age, Wang Chongyang still exuded a heroic and spirited aura, making people involuntarily think of an immortal aura, a transcendent figure detached from the mortal world.

‘No wonder Lin Chaoying was so captivated by him back then. That guy must have been a devastatingly handsome young god in his youth,’

Song Qingshu couldn’t help but secretly criticize.

“Huh?” Xiao Longnu, leaning against a large stone, carefully examined him and couldn’t help but exclaim, “You seem to be Wang Chongyang.”

Every disciple of the Ancient Tomb Sect, upon entering the sect, would spit at Wang Chongyang’s portrait. Although that portrait was just a back view, there was a frontal portrait of him in the main hall of Chongyang Palace. Xiao Longnu had been in and out of Chongyang Palace many times—how could she not recognize him?

Her mind was simple and pure, and she wasn’t worried about his reputation. Moreover, the inheritors of the Ancient Tomb Sect generally didn’t like Wang Chongyang, so she called him by his name directly.

Wang Chongyang was also stunned for a moment, then smiled slightly and said, “Yes, I am Wang Chongyang.”

“You’re not dead?” Xiao Longnu stared at him blankly. In her heart, Wang Chongyang and the grandmaster’s grandmother were of the same generation. She had always thought he was dead. Now, seeing him alive right in front of her, it was truly astonishing.

Wang Chongyang didn’t take offense: “That’s a long story.”

Then he looked at Song Qingshu and said, “I specifically waited here for you.”

“Wait for me?” Song Qingshu secretly became wary, knowing Wang Chongyang’s deep hatred for the Jin Dynasty. If the other side truly came to hunt him down at all costs, it would be a grave misunderstanding.

Noticing Song Qingshu’s reaction, Wang Chongyang frowned and said, “You need not worry. I am not here to kill you.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Song Qingshu remained cautious, after all, life was only one, and the person opposite him had the ability to threaten his safety.

Wang Chongyang didn’t answer directly. Instead, he impatiently looked at his face and said, “I’ve taken off my mask voluntarily. Why are you still afraid to reveal your true face?”

Song Qingshu was stunned: “You know who I am?” He prided himself on his mastery of disguise techniques, now at their peak. If he hadn’t known in advance, he wouldn’t have missed any flaws.

Wang Chongyang nodded: “At first, I couldn’t tell, but then I recalled that the experts of the Jin Dynasty I’ve encountered before all had less impressive martial arts than you, and none of them could produce a disciple as outstanding as you. Moreover, your martial arts combine the strengths of both the Buddhist and Taoist schools. The Buddhist lineage isn’t from Shaolin; it should originate from Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism, completely different from the Jin’s methods.”

Song Qingshu was full of admiration. Wang Chongyang truly deserved his reputation. In just a moment, he had figured out the source of his martial arts. Usually, only close confidants knew he practiced Taoist skills, and few outside that circle knew he had studied Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism.

“Just that alone isn’t enough to determine my identity,” Song Qingshu said seriously.

“Of course,” Wang Chongyang replied, “mainly because you practice the Nine Yin Scripture.”

“The Nine Yin Scripture?” Song Qingshu was somewhat puzzled. Although it wasn’t as widespread as before, it was still quite well-known.

Wang Chongyang smiled: “The Nine Yin Scripture has many disseminations, but I happen to know its general whereabouts. Besides the Eastern Heretic, Western Poison, Southern Emperor, and Northern Beggar, who all have some connection—

My junior brother Zhou Botong also knows it; there’s also Guo Jing and Huang Rong; the inheritors of the Ancient Tomb Sect might have it; there’s a branch at the Jianzhang Academy in the Song Dynasty; and it seems only the Emei Sect’s leader Zhou Zhiruo and her husband Song Qingshu remain.”

After finishing, Wang Chongyang stared intently at Song Qingshu.

Xiao Longnu also turned her head in surprise and looked at him: “You are… brother-in-law?”

No wonder he felt so familiar…

At this moment, Xiao Longnu was gravely injured and somewhat weakened. She thought she would quietly die in the wilderness, never seeing Guo again. When she was feeling mournful, she suddenly saw a relative—naturally, her mood shifted from sorrow to joy.

She had no one to rely on in this world except Yang Guo, and only two senior sisters could be considered family—Li Mochou, who was often at odds with her, and Bing Xue’er, the senior sister she met later. Bing Xue’er was gentle and kind, and although they hadn’t known each other long, Xiao Longnu felt very close to her.

Plus, when Song Qingshu stood up for her in the inn, helping her fend off Mongolian experts and even killing Zhao Zhijing, Xiao Longnu also developed a very good impression of this ‘cheap’ brother-in-law.

Staring into Xiao Longnu’s clear, water-like eyes, Song Qingshu couldn’t bear to hide anymore. He took off his mask and smiled at her: “Little junior sister, long time no see.”

Seeing his handsome face, Xiao Longnu’s face turned slightly red. Her mind involuntarily recalled that night he and the senior sister were fooling around beside her, especially when he was holding her hand. She could still feel the warmth of his palm.

“Little junior sister? You’re also from the Ancient Tomb Sect.” Now it was Wang Chongyang’s turn to be puzzled, and his expression darkened. He had fought Lin Chaoying all his life, only to find that he couldn’t even defeat her disciple. Where could he put his face?

Song Qingshu shook his head: “I am not from the Ancient Tomb, but I have some connection to the Ancient Tomb Sect.”

Wang Chongyang finally understood. At this moment, faint sounds of Jin soldiers approaching from below the mountain could be heard. He knew the soldiers would soon attack Chongyang Palace. He frowned and said, “Time is tight, so I’ll keep it brief.”

“I failed to resist the Jin invasion back then, and I was disheartened. Worse, I saw no hope, so I faked my death and retreated. Since then, I’ve been hiding in Jiangnan.”

“Jiangnan?” Song Qingshu’s eyes flickered as he pondered where Wang Chongyang might be hiding—mountains and wilderness, the capital, or perhaps… the court?

“I had decided not to set foot in the Central Plains again in this life, but not long ago, I heard from Yingluo about a young hero who was not only a martial arts master but also lurking within the Jin court, controlling the situation at will. I was curious and came north to take a look,” Wang Chongyang said thoughtfully, sizing him up.

“Yellow-robed woman?” Song Qingshu’s heart moved. Could it be that the martial arts of the Nine Yin Scripture she practiced were taught by Wang Chongyang? He asked with a teasing smile, “Did she really praise me like that?”

Seeing his lazy expression, Wang Chongyang couldn’t help but chuckle: “She also scolded you quite a bit. Want to hear?”

“Forget it,” Song Qingshu hurriedly shook his head. If yellow-robed woman scolded him face-to-face, that would be fine. Being scolded by a beautiful girl with a crisp, tender voice was actually a kind of enjoyment. But if Wang Chongyang, this old rascal, recounted it, it would be too dull.

Wang Chongyang then continued: “So I thought I’d go to Daxing to see what kind of young hero could earn such praise from that girl. But halfway there, I heard that the Jin court had sent a large army to besiege Quanzhen Sect. I couldn’t help but worry, so I came to take a look. Unexpectedly, I met you here.”

Wang Chongyang paused, then looked at him meaningfully: “I didn’t expect you to be even more outstanding than Yingluo described.”

“Senior, you’re too kind,” Song Qingshu modestly said with a smile. He could pretend not to recognize him before, but now that their identities were clear, he still had to show some respect.

“What was that move you just used called?” Wang Chongyang still hadn’t figured out how he managed to escape his Heavenly Big Dipper Formation.

Song Qingshu’s mind flickered. Instinctively, he answered, “A Distance as Close as the Ends of the Earth.” This was a name that suddenly popped into his mind, feeling quite fitting, so he blurted it out.

“Distance as Close as the Ends of the Earth?” Wang Chongyang recalled that just moments ago, they were seemingly inches apart but couldn’t attack each other. The actual distance between them was indeed like the ends of the earth. At his level of cultivation, he suddenly had an epiphany and couldn’t help but praise, “Great move! It’s said in the wulin that the best Qinggong belongs to the leader of the Sun Moon Divine Cult, Dongfang Bubai. But with this move, that title should also belong to you.”

Wang Chongyang’s status was extraordinary. If his words spread among the martial world, Song Qingshu would undoubtedly become the number one in the world.

Song Qingshu didn’t reply, only standing there foolishly smiling, thinking to himself: Anyway, Dongfang Muxue is one of us. Whoever is number one, it’s all good—no need to let outsiders benefit.

But unexpectedly, Wang Chongyang suddenly changed the subject: “But you, kid, are a bit too unkind. Why did you bring troops to destroy my Quanzhen Sect?”

Quanzhen Sect was his lifelong effort. Seeing it on the brink of destruction, how could he not be anxious?

Song Qingshu awkwardly chuckled: “I’m just acting under orders. The court assigned me this task. I have no choice but to comply.”

Wang Chongyang snorted coldly: “You’re fooling others, but you’re not fooling me. Now that you’re the Minister of War and Grand Marshal of Jin, holding both civil and military power, the Jin Emperor might not even compare to you.”

Song Qingshu sighed bitterly: “Back during the rebellion of Prince Hailing, after a fierce battle, several key figures of the court were killed—emperors, princes of the Taizong lineage, royal family members, and the three great clans. The various forces kept each other in check. I was just pushed into this position, a mere figurehead with no real power.”

Of course, he wouldn’t tell Wang Chongyang the truth. Otherwise, after painstakingly seizing control of Jin’s authority, he would end up serving the Song Dynasty—an unprofitable deal that would cost him dearly.