Nightfall

The sound made by the string had spread throughout the mist before the river sh.o.r.e. No one had ever seen someone kill another without nocking an arrow. When Ning Que killed the commander surnamed Zi, cut him into dozens of pieces of flesh in the autumn rain in front of the Red Lotus Temple just by using his bowstring, Long Qing and his subordinates were fleeing to the mountains. They did not witness the scene.

In the autumn rain, Ning Que got to know about his fate. From that moment on, he had the power to kill with bowstring, but he never practiced it in the following years. He had suppressed his power in the deepest depths of the quiver, and only showed it to the world today as he faced the powerful cultivators that were closing in on him.

Hundreds of powerful cultivators pounced on him with no fear of death.

Ning Que pulled the bowstring in silence. 

There was a soft buzzing sound! A heavy iron cutla.s.s was cut in half, and the strong man holding the knife got his right arm amputated. He let out a painful howl, and fell into the river as he was unable to maintain his balance. 

A middle-aged man in a priest robe roared, and the green sword in his hand turned into a dragon. With the majestic breath of Heaven and Earth, he guided the water from the river and hurled it right in his face. 

He raised his steel bow, and pulled his bowstring, aiming toward the dragon formed from the river.

There was another soft buzzing!

The dragon made of water was ripped apart right in the middle, and a tear appeared on the robe of the middle-aged man. The tear expanded rapidly, as fresh blood gushed out, dying the river in red instantly. He fell heavily into the b.l.o.o.d.y water, and could no longer stand up. 

A strong man in leather tunic from the east pulled the bowstring, and pointed it to the opposite side of the river. 

Without even looking at him, Ning Que drew his bow and shot an arrow. The murderous aura skimmed across the river, splas.h.i.+ng the water. The arrow was slightly dampened, and it started to have an indistinct shape, heading straight to the opponent at an unimaginable speed.

There was a loud crack, as the bow in the hands of the strong man from the east broke. The bowstring was split into two pieces, scattering in the air. The scattered strings were even more beautiful than the water splashes. The broken bow hit him hard in the face right in his eyes, knocking out a mixture of blood and liquid.

However, the strong man from the east did not mourn or yell in pain. This was because the murderous aura from Ning Que"s bowstring did not dissipate after breaking his hard bow. On the contrary, it continued to move forward, and directly chopped off his neck, as his head fell into the river as if it was a rock. 

He only needed to bend the bow and need not to nock an arrow. It was clearly a fake shot, but there was a real intention to kill. 

This was how Ning Que killed people with his steel bow. 

His movement was very stable as his right hand turned into remnants of Tao. Whether it was a Taoist sword or an arrow, nothing could be faster than the murderous aura of the arrow released from the bowstring. Not to mention that the aura was invisible and intangible. How could it be prevented? 

The rapid current of the river turned red with blood in an instant. It was only an encounter, yet several strong men fell to their death. With his lightning fast action in controlling the string, no one was a match for him. 

Ning Que looked at the figure of Long Qing, which was fading into the mountains in the distance, and strode forward into the river. At this time, the hundreds of powerful cultivators had also come to his side, as the b.l.o.o.d.y war raged on. 

Countless of Taoist swords and arrows swished by, dividing the air above the river"s surface into a fast-flowing cyclone. It was like a rapid river current, which had countless dangers in store. 

Even with the strength of Ning Que"s body, he still suffered some injuries in the attack of such high density and strength. His black uniform was ripped apart, and wounds could be faintly seen under his ribs. 

However, he still looked calm. He silently walked toward the opposite sh.o.r.e with his left hand on the bow, and his right hand on the string. From time to time, he raised his arm to aim, and pulled the bow string with his right hand. The entire movement was stabilized to a perfect extent. 

He was not disturbed by any attacks. Those, who tried to kill him, could not do so in an instant, and those who wanted to attack him were all killed by his steel bow.

When the bow made a pleasant sound, a trace of blood would appear on one of the powerful cultivators. Regardless of how solid the armor of the person was or how strong the body of the person after cultivation was, nothing could stop the blood trace from getting into the deepest part of the bones and flesh until it was cut in half, or his limbs were amputated, or he was dead. 

No one could stop the pace of Ning Que from going forward, not even those who were fearless of death. Even the battle group, which was composed of hundreds of powerful cultivators, was driven back by him alone! 

Hundreds of men were forced to retreat due to the steel bow! 

The sound of the string kept ringing, humming and buzzing, like a disordered zither. It was very similar to the noises at the square in front of the White Tower Temple of Yuelun Kingdom"s Chaoyang City that year. However, on that day, the Eldest Brother had broken hundreds of bowstrings to keep Ning Que from being killed, and today, the reason Ning Que plucked the strings unceasingly was to kill as quickly as possible.

He shot as he walked. Fresh blood splashed continuously, as men fell into the river. 

Ning Que walked to the middle of the river, and stood on a slightly protruded reef. He looked at the mountains in the opposite sh.o.r.e as the wind of the river blew through his hair. He was so silent, and yet powerful. 

The two hundred powerful cultivators, who were still alive, were either standing in the rapid river current, or on the sh.o.r.e. They looked at him with a complicated expression, stopping the attack temporarily. 

Like a small ant trying to shake a mighty tree, I am invincible in the world: a saying used to describe Liu Bai. Ning Que had not reached that level but with the steel bow in hand, who could be his opponent in melees?

Ning Que looked at the mountains, and said, "Since you are not satisfied, you should come forth, and fight justly with me for once. Why would you send these people to their deaths?"

...

… 

Long Qing wasn"t at the river, but was in the dense forest behind the cliff. 

As he looked at the b.l.o.o.d.y scenes at the river, he was silent with a serene expression. 

Ning Que was very powerful. Although Ning Que exceeded his expectations with his single steel bow, and his power to kill with the strings, he had long expected this man"s power. Hence, he was unmoved. 

When Long Qing heard the words of Ning Que, he wasn"t angered by the humiliation and shame. Instead, his lips curled slightly into a silent laughter because he knew that Ning Que was joking. 

There would never be appreciation between Ning Que and him, because neither of them was a hero. There would also never be a fair fight between them like the one between Jun Mo and Ye Su, because they were not gentlemen. 

Whenever Ning Que fought, he would use the strongest Thirteen Primordial Arrows for his sneak attack. Who would be qualified to say that he was outnumbered by the large group of enemies?

Long Qing knew his shamelessness. In order to defeat him, he must be equally or even more shameless. In order to win, he could do whatever it would take, and even selling his soul would not matter. What more could he care about? 

Taoism had already been shaken by the storms, so he wouldn"t return to Peach Mountain. The Northeast Battlefront Army of the Tang Empire had penetrated deeply into the Yan territory. As long as the Elder Brother were to make the slightest inappropriate decision, Chengjing would be slaughtered. He would not return to the capital. 

He cared about none of these but only Ning Que. Why? Because he was not satisfied. How could he be? Of course it was not by defeating the opposition justly, but by killing the opposition. After he died, he would naturally feel the satisfaction. Between Ning Que and him, the person who died first will be the first to get satisfactory. 

Long Qing knew this well, and so did Ning Que. Ning Que was only joking, so he broke into laughter. Long Qing laughed because he knew that he was about to win. 

Ning Que had used up all his Fu paper in the City of Wei, and all his Haoran Qi at the Qinghe Prefecture, but he could still write characters. However, he had to use his Psyche Power if he wanted to write the characters. He could also call out the Haotian"s divine flame, but his stomach no longer had the Haoran Qi that was cultivated through the years. If he wanted to absorb the Qi of Heaven and Earth into his body, he would need a large amount of Psyche Power. 

The whole world knew that Ning Que was just like Ye Hongyu, as they had both cultivated multiple doctrines simultaneously, and were geniuses in it. Aside from Xia Hou, there was hardly anyone who could force out all his cards. It was even more impossible with his current state of strength. 

But he had travelled miles to kill, and although he had a religious retreat for a period of time at the Lanke Temple, it was impossible to be as powerful as when he had just left the City of Chang"an. There were some means that he could not regain in a short time. 

What Long Qing wanted to do was to force him to deplete his Psyche Power. 

He had lured Ning Que into shooting the steel arrow. He had let hundreds of the last, most loyal and strongest subordinates to attack without fear of death, and died one followed by the other, just to deplete Ning Que"s Psyche Power. 

The Psyche Power was the foundation of cultivation, the firewood of the battle flame, and the all in all. 

No one had ever thought of winning Ning Que by using the consumption of Psyche Power because his Psyche Power was extremely strong. It was also something that many people knew about, but Long Qing dared to think like that, and so he thought so. 

Because he was the only person who knew a fact. 

No one could have more or stronger Psyche Power than him! 

Not even Ning Que! 

… 

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