Chapter 3: Hiding One

“We’re not of the Yu family—surely we can leave now?”

The senior disciple Zhu Fang did not look at Yu Zhentian’s expression but raised his head toward Zha Laosan on the roof.

Zha Laosan suddenly burst into laughter, squinting:

“Of course there’s no problem—but you have only two breaths left.”

“More than enough.”

Zhu Fang let out a heavy sigh, then turned and sprinted swiftly toward the courtyard gate; his two junior disciples followed without hesitation.

“You… you traitorous disciples!!”

Yu Zhentian, enraged beyond control, leapt into the air to grab the three of them.

The others were one thing, but these three disciples he had taken in as infants and raised with painstaking care—he had poured countless years of effort into them.

So he could not possibly accept their betrayal.

“Everyone, flee now—there’s no time left!”

Zhu Fang shouted loudly and, together with his two junior disciples, unleashed their full strength, clashing palms with Yu Zhentian.

Amid a violent burst of qi, Zhu Fang and the others were blasted away by Yu Zhentian, crashing onto the nearby rock garden, shattering the hard stone with deep fissures.

All three suffered severe internal injuries, spewing blood as they collapsed to the ground, barely able to rise again.

Seizing this opening, the other martial arts students no longer hesitated—they seized the chance and scattered in all directions.

Even the senior disciple was fleeing; if they stayed, they’d only die pointlessly.

At this moment, Yu Zhentian’s white hair was disheveled, his body trembling.

“Why?”

He ignored everyone else, gritting his teeth to demand an answer from Zhu Fang—his gaze held both fury and profound disappointment.

“Time’s up!”

Zha Laosan raised his hand and slashed through the air, sending a blade qi that split a willow tree cleanly in two:

“From now on, anyone who moves again will meet the same fate as this tree!”

Those still standing froze in terror, their feet rooted to the spot, not daring to stir.

“It’s over!”

Zhang Dazhuang swallowed hard, staring at the severed tree trunk as thick as a thigh, his face ashen.

Li Muxian shook his head in silence; Zhang Dazhuang turned and asked, voice trembling:

“A Sheng, why didn’t you run?”

“That’s the question I should be asking you,” Li Muxian replied, turning his head.

Zhang Dazhuang gripped his staff tightly, his broad, fleshy face twisting into a bitter smile as he sighed:

“I’m afraid of death too—but if the old master hadn’t taken me in, I’d have frozen to death in that winter years ago.”

“So I can’t leave—even though I know staying won’t change anything.”

The courtyard now held few people; Li Muxian sat down on the stone steps beside him and nodded slowly:

“One thing at a time. Though Old Yu is selfish, stingy, and snobbish, the debt of gratitude still must be repaid.”

Meanwhile, Zhu Fang, facing Yu Zhentian’s accusation, wiped blood from his lips and suddenly smiled:

“Master, you ask why? Then let me ask you—where are Master Da, Second Miss, and the rest of the Yu family now?”

At this, Yu Zhentian froze, his rage momentarily stilled.

Zhu Fang continued:

“Master, you knew Zha River’s Seven Bandits would come today—you arranged for Master Da and the others to be sent away in advance, leaving us disciples to die in your place, didn’t you?”

Yu Zhentian said nothing; Zhu Fang’s face twisted in anguish:

“You always claimed to treat us like your own sons—yet in the end, we’re nothing but your disposable pawns?”

“If I hadn’t stumbled upon it by accident, we’d have died without even knowing why—and still believed we were dying for the Yu family.”

At these words, the martial arts students in the courtyard were stunned.

Only now did they realize: today, on the old master’s retirement day, not a single trace of Master Da or Second Miss had been seen.

Instantly, all eyes turned to Yu Zhentian standing in the courtyard.

Zhang Dazhuang did the same—but when he saw Yu Zhentian’s aged, worn face, his expression dimmed, and he whispered:

“Sigh… I understand the old master.”

He paused, then added:

“But A Sheng, you’ve cursed the old master for being stingy every day—why did you stay?”

Li Muxian spread his hands:

“Old Yu said after retiring, he’d give each of us five taels of silver—haven’t collected it yet, have we?”

Hearing this, Zhang Dazhuang looked up, studying Li Muxian deeply:

“Dying for five taels isn’t worth it. Honestly… you don’t have to stay like me, throwing away your life just to repay a debt.”

Li Muxian smiled, waving his hand:

“Once I get the silver, I’m leaving this Yu Martial Arts Hall for good.”

…

“We have no time to watch your master-disciple drama.”

Zha Laosan’s hoarse voice came from the roof; he waved his hand.

A masked black-clad man gripped a long rope, hauling two coarse burlap sacks from below and flinging them before Yu Zhentian.

Two pained moans emerged from within; the sacks tore open under powerful qi, revealing two figures inside.

“Xian’er! Second Sister!”

Yu Zhentian’s face turned ashen—those two were his eldest son and second daughter, whom he had secretly sent away.

“Trying to outwit us under our noses? You vastly underestimate Zha River’s Seven Bandits.”

Zha Laosan sneered down at Yu Zhentian, eyes narrowing:

“Hand over the item. I’ll show mercy—let your family die with your bodies intact.”

Yu Zhentian stiffened but said nothing, rushing to check on his children.

Yet he was horrified to see his son’s limbs broken, his four-hundred-jin daughter covered in wounds, blood streaming, white fat oozing from her lacerations.

“You’ll die for this!”

Yu Zhentian erupted in fury, qi surging into a gale; he roared, leaping onto the roof with his longsword, charging toward Zha Laosan and the others.

Soon, sword qi crisscrossed, tiles shattered, and Yu Zhentian fought all five except Zha Laosan.

To everyone’s utter shock, Yu Zhentian held his own against five opponents.

“Old man, still hiding your strength even at death’s door.”

Zha Laosan’s gaze turned dark; his blade flashed like lightning, each strike a lethal kill.

He had planned to take Yu Zhentian alive for interrogation—but now, without full force, he couldn’t suppress him.

Zhu Fang and the others stood frozen, stunned—they had never imagined their master was this powerful, far beyond anything they’d ever seen.

“You traitorous disciples, take Xian’er and Second Sister and flee—I’ll hold them off!”

Yu Zhentian’s thunderous voice rang out; before Zhu Fang and the others could react, Zhang Dazhuang dashed to Yu Xian’s side, trying to drag him toward the courtyard gate.

But when he saw Yu Second Miss, battered and bleeding on the other side, he hesitated—then urgently turned to Li Muxian for help.

“Big Brother Zhang, leaving that four-hundred-jin girl to me is a bit too much!”

Li Muxian frowned, his displeasure clearly etched on his face.

(End of Chapter)