Chapter 102: I Borrow Your Heads—None of You Are True Men

Inside the temple, all who witnessed this scene were thrown into panic, their faces ashen.

As the cry of “Grand Master!” rang out, the entire temple seemed shaken by that aura.

Especially the handsome young man, who knew well that the sword-wielding giant before him was a martial artist of immense strength, just one step away from the Grand Master realm.

Though the youth was inexperienced in the world, he understood fully the weight carried by the three characters “Grand Master.”

In Daqing, there were only four Grand Masters—true apex figures of the martial world.

They could scoff at kings and lords!

The white-robed woman gripped Su Ziyin’s hand, her expression grave.

The two scholars had already retreated in terror, their faces pale as death.

Zou Shuning supported her elderly father, her eyes filled with worry—how could a Grand Master of the martial world appear in such a desolate temple?

This was simply unbelievable!

How could such a person appear in such a remote place?

Swimming in shallow waters, one encounters a dragon!

The Zou elder was equally stunned, but his concern was chiefly for the safety of the man on the ground.

At that moment, a green-robed Daoist walked forward slowly and spoke with a smile.

“Rest easy—he won’t die.”

An indescribable aura erupted; all present felt the temple tilt, their heads spinning, their legs trembling as if they could no longer stand.

The rain outside the temple had gradually ceased.

Among them, the thin scholar seized the chance to rush out—but his head felt heavy, his feet light, and he stumbled to the ground in panic.

He had the instinct that the green-robed Daoist stood within the temple, encompassing heaven and earth, leaving no escape.

“You’re all refusing me face.”

The green-robed Daoist stepped among them; the two scholars, like birds startled by a bowstring, retreated several more steps.

The handsome youth, the beautiful woman, and the old man stood together.

The two scholars, Su Ziyin and the white-robed woman, clustered together, all subtly hiding behind the white-robed woman.

Su Ziyin looked up at the ruined temple.

He noticed that the two of you remained utterly unmoved, showing not a trace of fear.

The green-robed Daoist also did not find anything amiss with you two.

Su Ziyin secretly marveled.

The others also noticed this.

Lu Yu merely gave a cold laugh.

Lu Yu sent a voice into your mind: “Brother, what do we do?”

“Kill him?”

You glanced at Lu Yu—over the years, you’d heard Yang Su speak of how Lu Yu had roamed the martial world.

He had stirred up waves of blood and turmoil; each time he descended the mountain, the martial world called him “Demon Purger.”

His catchphrases were always: “You think you’ve got face?” and “You really deserve to die.”

But as you observed Lu Yu closely, you realized he still possessed a pure heart, his thoughts unobstructed.

This might be what Master Liu Jinchan meant—that Lu Yu was born for the Dao.

You stared at the green-robed Daoist and, relying on your ability to read people, judged that he harbored no killing intent.

You shook your head slightly, deciding to wait and observe.

Lu Yu was deeply disappointed—he had not encountered a worthy opponent in years.

The green-robed Daoist glanced at the chessboard beside the firewood and spoke slowly:

“The wager is simple,” he said calmly.

“Play one game. If you lose, you die. If you win one game against me, you live.”

Upon hearing this, all were stunned.

Su Ziyin objected: “Why? If we lose, we die—but if you lose, you pay nothing!”

The green-robed Daoist listened, then stroked his chin.

“Fair point,” he nodded. “If I lose, I give you one chance to kill me.”

He smiled, adding: “But you might die too.”

Su Ziyin had no reply.

The white-robed woman said coldly: “What if none of us know how to play chess?”

The green-robed Daoist paused, slightly surprised.

“Then you’ll just have to die!”

Fear surged through the crowd like a tide; the fat scholar trembled violently, nearly collapsing to his knees, begging: “Master Daoist, please spare our lives—we’re just passing through!”

“Master Daoist, we’ve done nothing to offend you—why force us to this?” the fat scholar cried, tears streaming. “I have an eighty-year-old mother to support, and… a child not yet born to raise!”

The green-robed Daoist smiled faintly, his tone calm: “Indeed, we have no grudge, no enmity.”

The fat scholar suddenly noticed you two, unmoving in the temple.

A glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes—you became his only hope. He cried out urgently: “Two great heroes, please save us!”

Hearing this, the green-robed Daoist slowly turned and looked at you.

He spoke softly inside the temple:

“I merely wish to borrow your heads for one game of chess. If I lose, I’ll return your heads to you.”

At these words, all were shocked—such a bizarre wager, none had ever heard or seen its like.

Su Ziyin looked at you, a ripple stirring in his heart.

“This man is truly no ordinary mortal.”

Zou Shuning finally turned her gaze toward you two—this was the first time she had truly noticed you.

You two wore conical hats and straw capes, seated together.

You had said not a single word since arriving—only just now warned them to leave!

Clearly, you two are no ordinary martial travelers.

The situation tonight grew ever more complex.

The white-robed woman frowned tightly, her eyes filled with worry. She was always independent, unaccustomed to entrusting her life to others.

Yet she knew she was no match for the green-robed Daoist, and could not abandon her cousin to flee alone.

Zou Shuning took a deep breath and asked the green-robed Daoist: “If we win the game, will you truly let us go?”

The green-robed Daoist turned to Zou Shuning and smiled slightly:

“Of course.”

Zou Shuning nodded silently, her resolve set. She turned to the two scholars and said firmly: “Gentlemen, please step forward first—get a sense of the board.”

Zou Shuning looked at the handsome youth: “Ziyu, you go next.”

The handsome young man’s name was Feng Long, courtesy name Ziyu.

Feng Long felt uneasy but nodded—the green-robed Daoist was not joking; this was a matter of life and death.

“Gentlemen, do not worry—my father is Zou Lin, a grand master of chess, renowned throughout Daqing thirty years ago.” Zou Shuning’s voice carried pride. “Father entered the Divine Rank at eighteen, and at nineteen was summoned to the capital as a court chess advisor.”

The fat and thin scholars glanced at the old man.

They had never imagined the man they had just played against was a Grand Master—he must have held back greatly.

The thin scholar quickly bowed: “So you’re Master Zou—my apologies, my apologies.”

Thirty years ago, Daqing held the Grass and Tree Gathering, a grand event in the chess world, drawing countless players from across the land. Zou Lin won it all, his name echoing far and wide.

Every student of chess knew his name.

Chess is ranked in nine grades; the first rank is supreme, called “Divine.”

One who attains the Divine Rank can change unpredictably, foresee moves before they happen, penetrate the essence of the game, subdue opponents without fighting, and has no equal.

The thin scholar’s skill was decent—he had barely reached the sixth rank, called “Subtle,” skilled in variation, winning through cleverness.

Upon hearing this, even Su Ziyin and the white-robed woman were moved.

Zou Lin, this world-renowned Grand Master, had another past event unforgettable to all.

Zou Lin came from a scholarly lineage—three generations had served as court historians, upright and fearless of power.

When the court sought to revise history to glorify its northern campaigns, Zou Lin opposed it.

This seemingly gentle old man had pointed at the emperor himself and shouted:

“Three hundred thousand soldiers lay down their arms—none in the court are true men!”

He was demoted and sent home.

PS: One more chapter tonight—the temple scene ends soon.

Tomorrow I’ll try to deliver three chapters. My dear patrons, this isn’t fluff—I swear! Maybe the updates are too slow, the setup too gradual. Thank you all for your support.

(End of Chapter)