"Impudent! How dare you do such a vicious thing to a Wudang disciple? Mo Han, your crimes are unforgivable!"
Just as Yang Xiu was despairing, a clear and cold voice suddenly sounded, the tone cold.
A green-robed man walked over. The long sword in his hand had already been unsheathed. He was aggressive and even had some killing intent.
Seeing this person, Song Qingshu's eyes lit up, as if he had seen his savior. He immediately cried out,
"Seventh Uncle, my Seventh Uncle! You're finally here, you're finally here! But you're late…you're late, boohoo…"
As he spoke, Song Qingshu really began to cry. He looked like a beautiful girl, a tearful flower.
As Song Yuanqiao's only son and the number one person in the third generation of Wudang, his future was limitless. He might even be the future successor of Wudang. Song Qingshu had always been high and mighty.
But now that he was crippled, his life was over. He was almost killed. How could he not feel wronged? How could she not cry?
Mo Shenggu looked at Song Qingshu, who was paralyzed on the ground and bleeding from his dantian. His expression changed instantly. He rushed forward and supported Song Qingshu. He said anxiously,
"Qing Shu, you…you…you are…"
"Seventh Uncle, I've been crippled, crippled! Your nephew is a cripple now, a cripple! A cripple like Third Uncle Yu!"
Song Qingshu sobbed, his expression dejected, as if he had nothing left to live for.
"What?! How could this be?" Mo Shenggu's face was ashen, and he was extremely shocked.
He had only gone down the mountain for a short while and had just returned, yet he had already encountered such a huge incident.
Song Qingshu was crippled, and he was crippled above Wudang. This was really…
Song Qingshu was hysterical. He pointed at Mo Han and shouted,""It's him. It's this thief who crippled me. I, your nephew, will no longer be able to cultivate. I will become a cripple in the future!”
Mo Shenggu's expression turned cold, and his killing intent instantly soared.
Although he didn't like Song Qingshu's way of doing things, he was still Eldest Senior Brother Song Yuanqiao's only son.
Now that Song Qingshu had been crippled, how could Mo Sheng Valley not be furious? But out of caution, Mo Shenggu still asked,"
"Qing Shu, what happened? Didn't Mo Han not have internal energy? Why are you no match for him and even crippled by him?”
Hearing this, Song Qingshu felt even more aggrieved and cried even harder.
"Seventh Uncle, Mo Han has wild ambitions and is up to no good. He was clearly powerful, but he hid his cultivation and infiltrated Wudang Sect, pretending to be a good-for-nothing without cultivation. Crippling Chen Song and heavily injuring Shi Meng, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I brought the third generation disciples to reason with him. "I didn't expect him to cripple me as well and injure many of the Wudang Sect's third generation disciples!”
"Bastard!"
Among the Wudang Seven Heroes, Mosheng Valley was the youngest and had the worst temper.
Upon hearing this, he was burning with rage. He stood up and pointed his sword at Mo Han, saying word by word,"
"Mo Han, you Mo Han! "Master took you in out of kindness, but you didn't think of returning the favor. Instead, you had ulterior motives and harmed the Wudang disciples. Today, I, Mo Sheng Valley, swear that I won't be human if I don't kill you!”
Mo Han shook his head and laughed, but did not explain anything.
Humans were like this. Once they had a preconceived notion that it was Mo Han's fault and that Mo Han had killed the innocent, it was very difficult to change it.
And Mo Han's style was even more disinclined to explain!
So what if it was Mosheng Valley?
If you're not convinced, then fight!
When he had been beaten into submission and tortured, he would be able to talk properly!
Seeing Mo Han's indifferent reaction and not even putting him in his eyes, Mo Shenggu's expression turned even uglier. He said angrily,""Thief, die!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Mosheng Valley attacked decisively.
However, he was proud of his status as one of the seven heroes of Wudang. He disdained to use his sword against a junior like Mo Han. He immediately threw his long sword to the side and turned his right hand, using softness to counter hardness. A Wudang Soft Palm directly blasted out.
Although it was the same move, with Mosheng Valley's Houtian third stage realm and many years of foundation, it was simply a world of difference compared to Song Qingshu's Wudang Soft Palm.
The palm seemed light, but it was filled with hidden power and was extremely terrifying.
Mo Han frowned slightly. The reputation of the Wudang Seven Heroes was indeed not to be underestimated. He immediately spread his legs apart and moved his hands. He instantly began to use Taiji Fist.
His movements were slow, but he instantly became faster. He grabbed Mo Shenggu's right arm and pulled it back, easily diverting his palm force.
"This is…Master's newly created Taiji Fist!”
Mo Shenggu was instantly stunned. He stood rooted to the ground in disbelief.
However, Mo Han did not stop. He wanted to take advantage of your weakness to take your life. He immediately stepped forward with his left foot and struck out with his left palm. It was also the Wudang Silk Palm.
Bang!
Caught off guard, Mo Shenggu, who was in a daze, was immediately pushed back by Mo Han. He took five steps back before stopping.
" You..." Mo Shenggu was furious. He never thought that he would be forced back and injured by Mo Yi.
In his rage, Mosheng Valley wanted to make a move, but he felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood.
The Wudang Soft Palm had an endless charm, but it could hurt one's heart with just a casual touch!
Both Song Qingshu and the other third-generation disciples were stunned by what they saw, not knowing what to do.
He was even more shocked. How could Martial Uncle Mo have been beaten up by Mo Han to vomit blood in just one exchange?
Could it be that even Martial Uncle Mo was not Mo Han's match?
For a moment, they looked at each other in confusion.
Mosheng Valley was even more furious. They had been beaten up by a 14 or 15-year-old junior and vomited blood in front of more than 20 third-generation disciples. They had lost all their face.
Thus, Mo Shenggu nodded and glared at Mo Yi. He said word by word,""Good boy, no matter how you secretly learned Taiji Fist, my Mosheng Valley will not let you off today!”
This time, he was truly enraged. Not only for Wudang Sect, but also for Song Qingshu, and to save his face!
As soon as he finished speaking, Mo Shenggu stomped on the ground and leaped up from the ground, pouncing towards Mo Han.
"Good, they're too weak. They can use you as a practice!”
Mo Han's eyes lit up, and he started practicing Taiji Fist again. His eyes were filled with fighting spirit.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。