That day, as dawn broke, the forecourt of Huangshan Palace was already overflowing with people. Streams of carriages and throngs of martial heroes from every corner of the land converged, the air abuzz with excitement. At the palace gates, several Daoist priests stood upright, dust-whisks in hand, their solemn bearing giving the place the air of an otherworldly sanctuary. Yet amid this solemnity, a ragged group of beggars quarreled heatedly with the Daoists, their shouting and gesturing turning the scene somewhat comical.
"Daoist elder, you say one copper coin per person for entry, but we of the Beggars' Sect have nothing to spare. That one coin may be trivial to others, but to us, it is a meal!" cried old Sect Leader Fei, fanning himself with his battered bamboo fan, his face twisted in misery like a man pressed for debt.
Daoist Elder Baimei folded his hands, voice firm: "Old Fei, one coin per person is the rule of Huangshan Palace. Should you barge in, it would be contempt for our Palace itself!"
"Consider it incense money!" added Master Zhenkong with a mild smile, leaning on his staff. "Even Daoists must eat—surely one should not expect them to labor for nothing."
Old Fei puffed out his beard and glared. "Incense money? We are beggars! If we had money, why would we be beggars at all?"
Just as tempers grew taut, a clear voice rang out across the crowd:"Elders, I will pay the entry fee for the entire Beggars' Sect!"
All turned toward the voice. Striding forward, composed and radiant, was Wu Tong. His dark-blue martial garb lent him a heroic air, his lips curved in a confident smile.
"Wu Hall Master!" cried Old Fei, his face instantly transforming from misery to delight. He clapped his hands and laughed loudly. "Now this is splendid—not only no more fretting over entry money, but perhaps a feast of wine and meat as well!"
Wu Tong laughed: "Elder Fei, your loyalty and righteous heart in upholding justice for the martial world inspire me greatly. Were it not for today's business, I would gladly drink with you till dawn."
Old Fei roared with laughter. "Well said! Alas, our Beggars' Sect is poor indeed." He tugged at his threadbare robe with mock pity. "Look at this—ten years I've worn it, every coin long spent on wine. Still poor!"
"No more talk of money!" Wu Tong waved dismissively. "Once this affair is done, I shall rent an entire tavern, and Loyalty Hall shall host a banquet for the Beggars' Sect!"
Master Zhenkong chuckled: "A fine gesture! Since Loyalty Hall is so generous, why not offer some incense money as well?"
Before Wu Tong could answer, Li Qian stepped forward and drew a silver note from her breast. Smiling, she said: "Honored elders, here are two hundred taels—let this cover the entry of us four, as well as all of the Beggars' Sect."
Daoist Elder Baimei stroked his beard with a smile. "Since Madam Wu shows such magnanimity, we of Huangshan Palace cannot say more." At his signal, the Daoist priests parted and gestured them inside.
Old Fei's eyes gleamed as he thrust up his thumb. "Hall Master Wu, splendid! With such generosity, you will surely be famed across the martial world!"
Wu Tong clasped his hands, smiling. "I accept your kind words, Elder." With that, he and his companions entered with composed dignity, followed by the Beggars' Sect, who swaggered inside with jubilant grins, drawing many curious stares.
This little farce lent a touch of humor and brotherhood to the otherwise solemn gathering. But soon, all eyes turned inward—for today was the day of the martial world's pinnacle duel.
Clouds rose over the pavilions, the wind stirred with the weight of coming storm. Huangshan Palace was packed to bursting, nobles and warriors alike awaiting one battle: the duel between the True God Palace Master, Tuoba Xinge, and the Nine Heavens Lord, Long Zhentian. Both factions had entered earlier, for the duel was to take place at the Dragon Hour, the time of dragons summoning rain.
When the gong resounded, three men strode onto the central grounds: the arbiters of the Judgment Hall—Chief Judge Cui Fujun, the Judge of Pen Li Yan, and the Judge of Blade Sun Tian. Cui Fujun's voice rang out:
"We three of the Martial Judgment Hall are here to preside over this duel between Palace Master Tuoba Xinge and Lord Long Zhentian. Let both parties step forth!"
At his call, the crowd roared like a tide. Tuoba Xinge advanced, flanked by his Dragon-Tiger Elders Qin Wei and Wang Tao, the Four Envoys Li Qi, Bai Mu, Wang Ben, and Zhao Li, as well as the Three Talents and the Three Lights. At the same time, Long Zhentian approached with his Right and Left Hands Li Han and Ling Yun, the Elders Lin Ping and Shen Er, and his Four Envoys of Heaven, Earth, Wind, and Thunder—Zhou Da, Xu Er, Sun San, and Ma Si.
The square was thronged to suffocation, necks craned, breath held. The two masters glared coldly at one another.
Cui Fujun declared: "Heroes of the realm gather today to witness this duel. If you two have grievances, speak them now, so all may judge who is in the right!"
Tuoba Xinge, tall and broad, his features grim, bellowed: "Half a year ago, Long Zhentian sent agents to steal my sect's treasured scripture, the True Codex! Such treachery cannot go unavenged!"
Long Zhentian laughed scornfully: "And you, Tuoba Xinge—did you not send men to rob me of the sacred Snow Lotus, purchased dearly from the far snows of Tibet? Do not pose as righteous!"
Tuoba's face darkened. "You stole my scripture first! Would you forbid me to seize your lotus in return?"
"Your palace and mine have been at odds for years," Long Zhentian sneered. "There is no end in words. Only combat can resolve this feud."
Tuoba growled: "Then tell me—are we to test skill, or to fight to the death?"
Long Zhentian's eyes blazed. "Both! Victory or death—show no mercy."
Judge Cui Fujun proclaimed:"This duel shall be bare-handed. The one who yields is defeated. Should pride forbid surrender, and death ensue, blame none but fate. On this stage, life and death rest with Heaven!"