Chapter 543: with translation of chapter title

With that explosive shout, a figure shot over at great speed, seized Wu Fei's shoulder and flung him hard. The move was like thunder, incredibly fast.

The figure stood upright; this red‑robed figure was undoubtedly Seventh Lord Yang. At the critical moment, he rescued me from Wu Fei's grasp.

""It's him, be careful, it's him who hurt me." Chen Zheng crouched by the door, looking at Seventh Lord Yang, fearfully warned me.

""You brat, you know nothing, I'm his uncle." Seventh Lord's nature is always blunt; he didn't bother with Chen Zheng standing frozen at the door, sat down and repeatedly cast the fire technique to dispel the frost for me.

Wu Fei was flung by Seventh Lord, hitting the ground hard, but Wu Fei was an ice‑armored corpse, his vitality extremely tenacious. Not long after, Wu Fei sprang up, his frost‑covered arms lunging fiercely at Seventh Lord.

I just watched Wu Fei charge at Seventh Lord, wanting to shout a warning, but most of my body was covered in frost, I couldn't move at all, only able to watch the ferocious Wu Fei reach for the back of Seventh Lord's head.

However, just as Wu Fei was about to strike the back of Seventh Lord's head, something astonishing happened: a red light seemed to flash in the air, a brilliant light pierced through Wu Fei's brow, and I saw Wu Fei fall unwillingly; his icy, merciless eyes, besides numbness, held a hint of relief.

Boom—, Wu Fei collapsed to the ground; at the doorway stood a mighty, towering figure, steady as a mountain—it was Pangzi's father, QingSongShu.

A scorching force took root and sprouted inside my body, gradually dispelling the cold, yet as this fiery power spread, I occasionally felt sharp pains in my heart. Although the Blaze Sect's fire technique can dispel frost, for my practice of the Yin Mountain school it still inflicts unavoidable harm.

After Seventh Lord dispelled the frost for me, I could hardly keep from spitting a mouthful of blood, staggered to my feet, and Seventh Lord supported me as we walked over to QingSongShu.

QingSongShu's scorching aura was even stronger; although he had his hands behind his back, I could clearly see two horizontal lines on his forehead, which from afar looked like an eye.

""QingSongShu…"" I whispered weakly; QingSongShu waved his hand, indicating I needn't say more. Then he walked over to the fallen Wu Fei.

Wu Fei fell stiff‑limbed to the ground; his ashen‑white face, like frost, was gradually turning deathly gray—the color of a corpse's face, isn't that exactly deathly gray?

I saw what seemed to be a hint of a smile in Wu Fei's eyes, like the relief of unburdening.

QingSongShu crouched down to Wu Fei, but just as he touched Wu Fei's face, a white mass flew out from Wu Fei's chest.

It was a white, winged worm, its body seemingly coated with a thin layer of ice, moving extremely fast, its target the box in Wu Fei's bosom holding five gold plates.

Even though Seventh Lord and QingSongShu unleashed their fire technique in an instant, their speed still couldn't match that white worm; in the span of a breath, the worm snatched the box and flew away swiftly.

""All for naught…"" I sighed despondently in my heart.

At that moment, Seventh Lord and QingSongShu grew strangely solemn, exchanged a grave look, their faces grim, and slowly rose to their feet.

Seventh Lord, QingSongShu, Chen Zheng and I carried the three ice sculptures back to Chan Yi Hall. Because Han Duo, Pangzi and Fan Wuchang were in a different state from me, frost had already covered their entire bodies. So Seventh Lord, besides using fire technique and gentle fire to dispel their frost, also boiled a pot of dung soup similar to the one Han Duo bathed in, and flung all three into it.

Earlier, Pangzi personally brewed a pot of dung soup for Han Duo—needless to say, he was delighted. Who would have thought that fortunes shift; the same treatment now fell on Pangzi himself.

""Chen Hai Sheng, Wang Weiqiang, say, just who is it, and who threw Lord into the dung pit?"" A furious shout cut off the conversation at an inopportune moment; instantly a flicker of movement brought Han Duo, reeking and brimming with anger, into the hall.

Han Duo's entrance was incredibly imposing; she kicked the door open with violence, the door flew back and slammed into the hall's Blaze Sect idol, knocking it over. Immediately Han Duo swooped into view, hands on hips, her pretty face icy.

Pangzi, without a word, wiped the yellow liquid from the corner of his mouth and shoved it into my mouth.

I had no time to dodge; by the time I reacted, I tasted a strange, bitter flavor.

""Pah pah pah…"" Just as I rolled up my sleeves, ready to brawl with Pangzi, QingSongShu and Seventh Lord emerged from the room with solemn faces. Seeing their grim expressions, Pangzi and I dared not speak.

Chen Zheng and Fan Wuchang had already left Chan Yi Hall, at QingSongShu's behest; he seemed not to want them involved in this matter.

""Old Seven, what do you think of this?"" QingSongShu's face was very solemn; it was rare that he didn't call Seventh Lord a "rotten tree bark" this time.

""I don't know, but among the world's mystic sects, only someone versed in wormcraft, witchcraft, dabbling in Blaze and Yin Mountain arts, and so concerned with the Wu Mu Legacy, could be him.""

Pangzi and I heard the name ""him"" again—just who is he?

Pangzi is straightforward; when he feels confused, he can't help asking QingSongShu: 'Dad, who exactly is that ""him"" you and Seventh Uncle mentioned? Last time we were almost poisoned, you and Seventh Uncle also brought him up.'

QingSongShu glanced at me and Pangzi, suppressed his anger, hesitated a long while, then told Pangzi: 'He is our eldest senior brother.'

""What, eldest senior brother…"" Pangzi and I exclaimed in doubt. I had heard before that my master, QingSongShu, and Seventh Lord seemed to share a thin sect bond, but I'd never heard QingSongShu mention an eldest senior brother. Including Pangzi, I think he hadn't heard of it either.

""Our eldest senior brother is a descendant of the Zhao clan, the imperial family of the Great Song."" As Pangzi and I stared in bewilderment, QingSongShu dropped another bombshell.

""What… Great Song imperial family, descendant…"" Pangzi almost popped his eyes out; hearing all day people claim to be Aisin Gioro descendants, now hearing this from Seventh Lord's mouth is a hundred times more explosive than any Aisin Gioro claim.

""Mm…"" Seventh Lord nodded slowly, and in the tranquil Chan Yi Hall he slowly explained the reasons.

QingSongShu, Seventh Lord, and my master Li Feng had all studied under a master of the Ma Yi Xiang school; that master was one of their teachers. Above them was a senior brother, below a junior brother. Including the school itself, the teacher‑disciple lineage numbered six.

Initially, the five disciples got along well; their eldest senior brother had profound mastery of the arts, exceptional talent. While they studied the divinatory arts together, the brothers exchanged ideas, and the eldest senior brother could rapidly cultivate Yin Mountain, Blaze, and Witchcraft techniques in a short time—his personal power stood foremost among the five brothers.

Speaking of this eldest senior brother, his usual demeanor was humble and courteous, a gentle gentleman; who would have thought that after five years of living together, he turned against his four fellow brothers and became enemies.

The reason was that my master Li Feng, in an offhand moment, revealed his years of wandering the jianghu and told the fellow brothers that his ancestor had been a descendant of the Great Song general Yue Wang Ye, whose family had passed down two gold plates; moreover, during his own travels he had fortuitously obtained another two.

My master Li Feng finally fell victim to a covert attack, the gold plates nearly taken; fortunately QingSongShu, Seventh Lord and the junior brother rescued him, so my master wasn't killed by the eldest senior brother. In the end, fearing the secret would leak, the eldest senior brother spared no effort to strike his former four sworn brothers.

At first everyone only wanted to save lives, but in the end the eldest senior brother, driven by his own obsession, sought to kill the four; we could only rise in resistance. Though his cultivation was high, he was still just one person—how could he match four brothers? To defeat his four junior brothers, the eldest senior brother fell into heresy, began harvesting souls to boost his power, and devoted himself to studying wormcraft and corpse‑control techniques.

In the final battle, the four joined forces and defeated the eldest senior brother; although his cultivation was abolished, the four also paid a heavy price. My master Li Feng was left with a lingering ailment for life, the junior brother suffered grave injury, nearly exhausting his cultivation. Such a cost only yielded mutual ruin.

In the end the four did not strike down the eldest senior brother, out of fellow‑disciple affection; the four brothers finally let him go. The eldest senior brother slipped into heresy, his twisted desire to kill the four brothers stemmed from the gold plates that represent the Wu Mu Legacy.

It is rumored that this eldest senior brother is a descendant of the Great Song imperial family, who has fathomed the secret of the twelve gold plates; to obtain them and restore the glory of the Zhao lineage, he will stop at nothing to seize the plates and the treasure.

Glory may breed pride, but blind glory can also kill. The Great Song's history is already over a century old; by rights it should have vanished to ashes. Yet in some feudal clans, even reduced to utter poverty, this deep‑seated glory, the stubborn determination to restore it at any cost, is beyond ordinary comprehension.

For example, it's as if one's ancestor were an emperor, so one's blood ought to be gold, and all under heaven should bow at one's feet—such obstinacy and obsession are beyond ordinary people's grasp of what these fanatics think.

Although QingSongShu put it lightly, without detailing the process, Pangzi and I could sense the peril—it would take the combined effort of QingSongShu and his three companions to defeat that foe, showing how heaven‑defying the eldest senior brother's abilities must have been.

Right, QingSongShu, my master Li Feng, and Seventh Lord Yang—whether you count on fingers or toes, that's only three… so who is the junior brother who barely survived his clash with the eldest senior brother?

As I wondered, QingSongShu stroked his beard, gave a slight nod, and said: 'Our junior brother is Yao Song, the inheritor of the Plowshare Witch Sect. You also know his daughter and son…'

""What…"" I was so shocked by the news I could not speak, while Pangzi spat out the tea he had just swallowed with a ""puff"", cursed ""damn it"", and blurted: ""Holy shit, I never expected Yirong's dad to have been such a badass back then.""

""Chen Hai Sheng, Wang Weiqiang, say, just who is it, and who threw Lord into the dung pit?"" A furious shout cut off the conversation at an inopportune moment; instantly a flicker of movement brought Han Duo, reeking and brimming with anger, into the hall.

Han Duo's entrance was incredibly imposing; she kicked the door open with violence, the door flew back and slammed into the hall's Blaze Sect idol, knocking it over. Immediately Han Duo swooped into view, hands on hips, her pretty face icy.