Rebirth starts with many children and good fortune

The moonlight washed over the streets of the fierce battle, illuminating everything with clarity and vagueness.

The duel between Wu Feng and Yan Hua reached a fever pitch in the intense sword fight. Their figures moved swiftly in the moonlight, their sword lights weaving together to create a series of breathtaking scenes.

"Drink!" With a roar, Yan Hua leaped up, the long sword in his hand transforming into a silver lightning bolt, aiming straight for Wu Feng's throat.

Wu Feng sidestepped, skillfully avoiding this fatal blow. At the same time, the long sword in his hand went up, the tip lightly touching Yan Hua's sword, emitting a crisp metallic clang, sparks flying.

Both men's swordsmanship had reached the pinnacle of perfection, each move containing profound blood energy and exquisite skill. Between the crisscrossing sword shadows, only silver light flashed, like two silver dragons entwined in the air, evenly matched.

As time passed, both men's stamina and blood energy were constantly being consumed, but their fighting spirit grew even higher.

Wu Feng's eyes grew more determined, each swing of his sword becoming more fierce, as if he wanted to condense all his power into this one sword.

It had been more than a decade since Wu Feng had experienced such a fierce fight. He was using Yan Hua to find his form. Back then, Wu Feng was a ruthless character who could fight an entire gang alone.

Yan Hua, on the other hand, became more and more courageous as he fought. His swordsmanship began to become more agile and varied, trying to find Wu Feng's flaws.

Suddenly, Wu Feng paused, his long sword held horizontally in front of his chest, closing his eyes and concentrating. He had found his form. Next, it was time to use his trump card.

Seeing this, Yan Hua's heart trembled. Just as he was about to press his attack, Wu Feng suddenly opened his eyes, a flash of light bursting out of them. His long sword cut through the night sky like lightning, aiming straight for Yan Hua's heart meridian:

"Purple Zenith Comes East!"

This sword contained all of Wu Feng's blood energy and will. Its speed and power caught Yan Hua off guard. He tried his best to block it with his sword, but he only heard a "crack" sound. His long sword was actually cut off by Wu Feng's sword, the tip pointing directly at his chest.

Yan Hua's face changed drastically, but he did not retreat. Instead, he used his last bit of strength to throw the broken sword in his hand at Wu Feng. At the same time, he retreated violently, trying to escape this inevitable death.

Wu Feng flashed, easily avoiding the flying broken sword, and thrust his sword straight into Yan Hua's chest.

Today, Yan Hua was doomed to die.

Yan Hua's eyes stared fixedly at Wu Feng, a large amount of blood gushing from his mouth.

He struggled to raise his hand, wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, and revealed a bitter smile on his face.

"I never thought... that I, Yan Hua, would die at your hands..."

Wu Feng's expression remained indifferent. He quietly looked at Yan Hua without saying a word.

Yan Hua coughed a few times and continued, "However, don't be too happy... cough cough... soon, someone will come to you for revenge..."

Wu Feng looked at Yan Hua in front of him with impatience, and with a wave of the long sword in his hand, a cold light flashed: 'Let's see if your Red Star Gang can survive tonight.'

In an instant, Yan Hua's head was chopped off, blood spurting out like a fountain, and his body fell to the ground.

The severed head rolled in the air, finally landing on the ground, stopping after rolling a short distance. The headless corpse of Yan Hua continued to spurt blood from the neck, forming a fountain of blood.

The surrounding Red Star Gang disciples watched as their vice leader died in Wu Feng's hands, trembling and afraid to step forward. Wu Feng ignored these Red Star Gang lackeys. Even though his blood energy was greatly depleted, these lackeys could never get close to him.

Wu Feng stood by the broken window lattice, his eyes like torches, penetrating the night, staring intently at the subtle changes in the situation below. Although he felt tired, he was more waiting for the final result between the two gangs.

The fighting of the people below could not affect the overall situation. Only the top warriors could determine the outcome of the victory.

Inside the teahouse, Cheng Feng and Xie Lin were engaged in close combat in a narrow space, and the confrontation between the two had reached a fever pitch.

Xie Lin used his full strength of the Gale Palm, each palm carrying the whistling wind, as if it could tear the air, but it could only leave faint traces on Cheng Feng's rock-solid body, as if it did not have much effect.

Xie Lin was shocked. This kid also practiced horizontal training? ? ?

The corners of Cheng Feng's mouth curled into a faint smile. Even if his Bronze Statue Skill was just getting started, it was still effective with the support of Cheng Feng's own blood energy in the Bone Refinement Realm.

"What a horizontal training skill, Cheng Feng, you really hid it deep!" Xie Lin gasped, a flash of unwillingness and anger flashing in his eyes.

If he continued like this, he would definitely lose. Xie Lin took a deep breath, his blood energy surging in his body, and he was about to use his trump card.

"Gale Unbounded!" Xie Lin roared, his aura soaring, his palm wind extremely fierce, turning into a tornado, coming straight at Cheng Feng. This strike condensed his lifelong cultivation and belief, vowing to defeat Cheng Feng in one fell swoop.

Cheng Feng's face did not change, his body moved slightly, and he avoided this fatal blow at the critical moment. He did not choose to meet it head-on, but used his flexible Chaotic Void Steps to wander in the narrow space, looking for an opportunity to counterattack.

"Gang Leader Xie, you are indeed very strong, but you are not young anymore, it is time to step down and give way to the worthy, moreover, victory or defeat often lies in that slight difference." Cheng Feng's voice was calm and firm.

Suddenly, he accelerated, appearing behind Xie Lin like a ghost, and a heavy punch with the Bloodburst Technique landed heavily on Xie Lin's back.

"Bang!" With a muffled sound, Xie Lin's body flew out like a kite with a broken string, hitting the wall heavily, spitting blood, his face as pale as paper. He struggled to raise his head and looked at Cheng Feng, his eyes full of disbelief.

"I... I lost..." Xie Lin's voice was weak, but full of bitterness. He knew that this defeat not only meant the end of his martial arts, but also meant that the destruction of the Red Star Gang was a foregone conclusion.

At this moment, the fighting outside the teahouse gradually subsided, and the battle seemed to be coming to an end.

After losing their vice leader, the morale of the Red Star Gang disciples plummeted, and they no longer had the vigor they had before.

In the Hongmen camp, thirty strong men exuding bronze light all over their bodies were particularly eye-catching. These people were like copper walls and iron walls, and ordinary knives and swords had no effect on them, and could not even leave a trace on them.

Each person wielded a thick whistle stick, with amazing power. Their attacks were as fierce as a storm, making it difficult for the enemy to resist.

Soon, under the brave charge of these thirty strong men, the other disciples of the Hongmen also launched attacks one after another, defeating the remnants of the Red Star Gang one by one.

As the night deepened, everything inside and outside the teahouse seemed to return to calm. But beneath this calm, a contest of power, interests, and martial arts had just come to an end.