Chapter 109: The Number One

Northern Song Shaoshi Mountain.

The Ming Empire, Southern Song, Northern Song, and the Three Kingdoms Shaolin Temple gathered together, a spectacle unprecedented in the martial world for centuries.

People habitually refer to the Ming Shaolin as the Shaolin Sect, the Southern Song Shaolin as Southern Shaolin, and the Northern Song Shaolin as Northern Shaolin.

When the three schools met in the past, open rivalry and covert struggle were inevitable; they would choose between martial arts and Buddhist teachings to determine superiority.

Unlike now, when everything is harmonious.

Beyond Shaolin, other sects in similar situations also displayed a united, kin‑like attitude.

Chu Yang's appearance unexpectedly brought a rare atmosphere of peace to a martial world that had been chaotic for centuries.

Inside the Great Hero Hall, the multitude of heroes gathered.

Just the sects attending the Martial Arts Assembly number nearly a hundred; the heads of each sect have almost filled the seats, while core elders and direct disciples can only stand at the doorway watching.

As the host, Abbot Xuan Ci did not sit in the principal seat, but gave it to a Daoist and a martial man.

The Daoist is Zhang Sanfeng, and the martial man is Feng Qingyang.

As the only two senior masters who have so far escaped unscathed from Master Chu's forces, they are the source of confidence for everyone, and can be said to be the backbone of the entire martial world.

Even though they have been elevated to such a lofty position, not a hint of joy appears on their faces; instead they look deeply resigned.

Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang both understand clearly that they survived only because Chu Yang is not a wanton killer; if it truly came down to life and death, they might not have lived.

The reason they attend this troublesome Martial Arts Assembly is simply to avoid watching these fools provoke Chu Yang, needlessly adding to the bloodshed.

Zhang Sanfeng is a monk, while Feng Qingyang fears that the Huashan Sect would lose its lineage because of this.

The great hall boils over with noise.

The many sect heads who came to the assembly quarrel loudly; just as it began, serious disagreements erupted among them.

The original purpose of convening this Martial Arts Assembly was to negotiate peace with Master Chu, hoping he would cease his slaughter of the major sects.

Some, upon seeing the massive, imposing force, entertained thoughts they ought not to have.

Perhaps…

We should unite and campaign against that demon lord who shines like the noon sun?

Thus, another opinion suddenly emerged within the ranks, urging everyone to adopt a tougher stance against Master Chu.

It fits that old saying.

The only lesson humanity can learn from history is that people cannot learn any lesson from history.

Those who propose the campaign usually have never crossed paths with Chu Yang; their impression of him is merely hearsay.

Those who truly suffered—whose mountain gates were shattered and sects dissolved by Chu Yang—are actually the ardent supporters of the peace talks.

The last time they eliminated a sect head; if it happens again, they might actually raze a family to the ground! Even a mud Buddha has three parts fire, let alone a man who acts recklessly and bears the title "Demon Lord".

Who dares bet that he still has patience?

Seeing the situation gradually slip out of control, Abbot Xuan Ci, as the host, helplessly looked toward Zhang Sanfeng, who sat in the foremost seat.

"Master Zhang, what do you think is the best course?"

Zhang Sanfeng turned his head and exchanged a glance with Feng Qingyang, who gave a slight nod.

Then Zhang Sanfeng rose.

The great hall fell silent in an instant, not a bird chirped; everyone focused their gaze on Zhang Sanfeng. Though the attendees continued to argue, their attention remained fixed on the two strongest warriors.

"Hahaha, everyone continue, no need to mind the old Daoist!"

Zhang Sanfeng laughed aloud and walked straight out of the great hall, completely ignoring the surprised gazes of the sect heads.

Yue Buqun hurried forward to Zhang Sanfeng, stopping the old Daoist, "Master Zhang, where are you going? The assembly hasn't ended yet."

"Hasn't the verdict already been sealed? Isn't everyone set to campaign against Master Chu, to restore a bright world?"

Zhang Sanfeng feigned surprise.

"Although the sect heads are united, they still need the support of the two senior elders…"

Yue Buqun showed an awkward expression.

He became the Five Mountains Alliance Leader because the former leader, Zuo Lengchan, was eliminated by Chu Yang.

Having just taken office with no one looking up to him, Yue Buqun urgently needed to act to cement his position as Five Mountains Alliance Leader, so he shouted the slogan to campaign against Chu Yang the loudest.

"Support?"

Zhang Sanfeng sneered as he looked around; among the crowd were plenty of wolves‑like ambitious types like Yue Buqun, who disregard everyone's safety for their own reputation in the martial world.

"The old Daoist has lived over a hundred years yet still clings to the mortal world; he will not join you all in the Yellow Springs. Next year on this day, he will surely prepare more paper offerings for the sect heads."

After speaking, Zhang Sanfeng waved his Daoist robe to push Yue Buqun aside and stepped out of the Great Hero Hall.

And his words, like cold water doused upon everyone's hearts.

Yue Buqun's face turned ashen, speechless.

For a moment, each sect and faction began to feel anxious again, the previous momentum gone.

Feng Qingyang felt the timing was right, leapt up, blocked Zhang Sanfeng's departure, and loudly comforted, "Brother Dao, stay calm; aren't they still negotiating? They haven't seen the young man's prowess, so a few grand boasts are understandable."

Zhang Sanfeng nodded, remained where he stood, silently watching them, as if awaiting their answer; if unsatisfied, everyone would go their separate ways.

Feng Qingyang did the same.

At this moment, a frantic novice monk pushed through the crowd, and Abbot Xuan Ci's expression changed upon seeing him.

The novice had been sent to contact Chu Yang; his return meant Chu Yang had already arrived at the foot of Shaoshi Mountain.

"Abbot, Master Chu… has arrived!"

Inside and outside the hall, gasps of cold breath rose and fell.

Just hearing the name made everyone's scalp tingle.

The disciples of the shattered sects turned pale at the sound, trembling in fear.

Seeing their terrified expressions, disciples from other sects who had never seen Chu Yang suddenly grew a bit curious.

Zhang Sanfeng said in a deep voice, "Everyone, if you want to leave the Great Hero Treasure Hall alive today, then heed my advice: don't do anything foolish!"

All the sect heads, including Yue Buqun, wore a stern expression.

A moment later, a carriage rose step by step along the stairs, showing no sign of bumping, prompting the disciples of the various sects standing in the plaza to pause and watch.

"The road on Shaoshi Mountain was already broken at the lower incense hall; how did this carriage come up?"

"Look, the wheels of that carriage are floating!"

"Did you drink early this morning? How could the carriage's wheels be floating… Damn it, it's real!"

"This is a flying carriage!"

"That red horse doesn't even look like a mortal beast!"

A hearty voice rose from the crowd, "Master, isn't that my little red horse?"

The blind man with a black cloth over his eyes said in a deep voice, "Shut up!"

The blind man's palms and forehead were drenched in cold sweat; the last time that foolish disciple vanished without explanation, they searched most of the Southern Song, barely managed to reunite, and throughout the journey kept hearing him speak of a peculiar man named Chu.

They could never have imagined that the Chu spoken of by the foolish disciple and the young scholar in the carriage were actually the same person!

All eyes turned to the carriage.

One man and one woman.

The man wore a sky‑blue scholar's robe, warm and smooth as jade, while the woman wore a pale yellow ruqun, charming and cute.

The two appeared like immortal companions stepping out of a scroll painting.

Many who had never seen Chu Yang's face still imagined the legendary "Demon Lord" to have a bloated, ferocious, demonic visage.

When the principal arrived, the group was less tense than before, obedient as a rabbit.

The crowd naturally cleared a road for the carriage.

The carriage stopped beneath the steps of the Great Hero Treasure Hall.

"What should I say? To have trod the iron shoes searching in vain, yet obtain it without any effort?"

Chu Yang, seated on the carriage pole, looked left and right, seeing many familiar figures.

Yue Buqun and the other sect heads wore rigid expressions.

"Amitabha… Today we have invited Master Chu; this temple bears the intention of turning swords into silk."

Abbot Xuan Ci stepped out of the crowd, descended the steps, walked slowly, and stood directly before the carriage, gazing at Chu Yang.

"Monk, you're mistaken; whether we can turn swords into silk is not for me to decide—I am not the victim."

Chu Yang looked at him with a smile that was not quite a smile.

"Well then, Master Chu, could we ask that Ancient Tomb Sect disciple to step forward for discussion, to provide a chance for reconciliation?"

Abbot Xuan Ci's ancient‑well‑still eyes fixed on the carriage.

Huang Rong arched an eyebrow, wrinkled her nose, "Hmph! Old monk, who wants to negotiate with you? If it weren't for seeking a quick solution, I wouldn't come to Shaoshi Mountain even if you invited me!"

Whether it was Huang Rong or Chu Yang, their words and subtext were saturated with the intention to wipe out the Shaoshi Mountain group, causing many to feel uneasy and whisper.

Abbot Xuan Ci also found it tricky; he had originally thought that however overbearing Chu might be, seeing so many martial peers would cause him to restrain himself somewhat.

Who could have known the other's arrogance far surpassed his expectations?

"The extermination of families—has Master Chu not done enough?"

"Old monk, why don't you ask why they are still unsatisfied after seizing the secret manual, and why they must trouble the Ancient Tomb Sect's women and children?"

Abbot Xuan Ci was left speechless, only casting a pleading glance toward Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang behind him.

Zhang Sanfeng stepped forward first, laughing heartily, "Daoist friend, long time no see, your bearing remains unchanged."

Chu Yang smiled and nodded, "Master Zhang appears to have made a breakthrough; congratulations."

Zhang Sanfeng lifted his Daoist robe, bowed, "I must thank the discourse with Daoist Chu that day, which enabled me to advance another step."

Chu Yang waved his hand, "Master Zhang, if you're being courteous, you needn't say that. If you intend to block me today, demonstrate true skill; no empty words first—this time I will show no mercy."

Zhang Sanfeng paused briefly, shook his head, "I do not consider myself a match for Daoist Chu; even with Feng's assistance, the outcome would be much the same. Yet, as a monk, I still hope you can refrain from causing further bloodshed."

Feng Qingyang added, "Little Chu, Feng and Master Zhang do not intend to oppose you; we only hope you might choose another way to dissolve the mutual hatred."

"I am not the victim, it's not my place to decide who should reconcile with whom, but for your sake, I can have Mo Chou appear."

Chu Yang leapt down from the carriage and approached the two.

The two old men, one having taught Chu Yang Tai Chi Fist, the other having taught him the Lone Nine Sword, rendered a favor neither great nor small.

Huang Rong slipped into the carriage, and after a short while, she emerged before the crowd accompanied by Li Mo Chou.

Many people exhaled in relief, believing that as long as someone is willing to step forward, a negotiation is possible.

"Amitabha~~~"

Abbot Xuan Ci looked at Li Mo Chou, compassion evident in his eyes, "Esteemed donor, I deeply regret the calamities your sect has suffered; however, the chief evildoers have largely been eliminated, leaving only a few minor sects. Miss, could you extend great mercy and spare their lives?"

"Saving a life surpasses constructing a seven‑tier pagoda…"

Li Mo Chou clenched her teeth, casting a vicious glare at several sect heads behind Yue Buqun; merely seeing their faces unleashed nightmarish memories like a tide.

Grandmother Sun's tragic death.

Xiaolongnu was brutally poisoned into silence.

Thinking of this, Li Mo Chou could not stop trembling, her eyes blood‑red, she said coldly, "Spare them? And me?! That day I knelt on the ground, pleading desperately, yet Grandmother Sun still died, my face was ruined, Xiaolongnu still mute…"

"Old monk, tell us, who actually spared us?!"

Li Mo Chou's mournful voice reverberated across Shaoshi Mountain, like a demon from the deepest nine‑dark realms, the searing hatred making listeners shiver.

Abbot Xuan Ci, on the verge of speaking yet holding back, could not meet Li Mo Chou's vengeful gaze, and merely closed his eyes, displaying a sorrowful, compassionate expression.

"Little girl! Don't act rashly; whatever you desire can be negotiated!"

"Li Mo Chou, heroine, you as a noble should not hold grudges against us; grant us a way of life!"

"Yes, yes, Miss Li, whatever you want just say it; we will certainly find a way to get it for you!"

Pleading for mercy rose and fell, some sect heads even knelt on the ground, pounding their heads madly; they had just heard Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang's words, and no longer harbored any hope.

Li Mochou sneered, "What I want has never changed from start to finish: the heads on your collars."

The pleading sect heads' faces were ashen.

"It seems you cannot persuade the aggrieved party; that is regrettable…"

Chu Yang shrugged helplessly, turned to Li Mochou and asked, "Identify them, see who they are, so we don't embarrass ourselves by killing the wrong ones later."

Li Mochou extended a finger, pointing from afar at the few people inside the Great Hero Hall; as she pointed, those around her were swiftly pushed aside, leaving a vacant space.

"Indeed, there isn't much left." Chu Yang smiled with satisfaction.

With this matter settled, he could return home and rest properly for a while.

Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang wore wry smiles.

"Enough, enough. Grievances have origins, debts have creditors; one who brings disaster upon oneself cannot survive."

Zhang Sanfeng flicked his dust brush, shook his head helplessly, and led the Wudang disciples to prepare to descend the mountain; before leaving, he bowed to Chu Yang and said, "This matter does not involve Shaolin; I hope the fellow cultivator can show mercy."

Chu Yang laughed, "That depends on whether Abbot Xuan Ci is a person of broad understanding."

Feng Qingyang also led the Huashan Sect to prepare to descend, and the fiercest among them, Yue Buqun, bowed his head and dared not glance at Chu Yang.

"Xian Yu Tong, that traitor, has already been slain by little friend; the feud between the two sides is settled. I hope little friend keeps his promise and does not trouble my Huashan Sect in the future."

Seemingly embarrassed, Feng Qingyang used secret voice transmission, his tone very amiable.

Chu Yang nodded.

But just as the two elders were leaving with their sect disciples, a raucous, unrestrained laugh suddenly echoed from the roof of the Great Hero Hall.

"All the heroes of the world have gathered here, yet they are shaken by a petty demonic scoundrel; Zhang Sanfeng, Feng Qingyang—both are merely name‑chasing pretenders!"

"If any of you do not wish to die, join me in encircling this demon!"

As soon as the words fell, a figure clad in a gray robe appeared before Chu Yang; the newcomer's face was masked, hair at the temples speckled white, clearly of some age.

His index finger thrust toward Chu Yang's throat with a forceful, unyielding power, swift as wind and thunder.

A Cheng Yaojin emerging midway was unexpected by everyone.

Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang were both taken aback, wondering whose subordinate this was, so bold.

Chu Yang was also a bit stunned.

The man before him employed the Nianhua Finger, one of Shaolin's seventy‑two supreme techniques, yet his head full of white hair made clear he was not a monk.

His finger force was rapid, his inner strength considerably profound; within Shaolin Temple, he would be at least a senior abbot.

Chu Yang frowned and launched a palm strike in retaliation.

His palm blocked the gray‑robed elder's finger, then his five fingers straightened into a claw shape, gripping the elder's finger.

The gray‑robed elder tried to withdraw, but found his finger tightly clasped, unable to break free.

A crisp 'crack!' sounded.

Two of the gray‑robed elder's fingers snapped off.

This man was also ruthless; despite his fingers breaking, no sound was made, and he used the moment to break Chu Yang's hold.

However, after the setback, the elder's gaze toward Chu Yang grew increasingly resentful.

"Who are you, sir?"

Abbot Xuan Ci stared at the gray‑robed elder's back, feeling a familiar sense.

"Who I am is unimportant; what matters is that today we must cooperate to exterminate demons and protect the Dao, and not let this demon run rampant any longer!"

The gray‑robed elder evaded any mention of his identity.

"A pretender who hides his head and shows his tail!"

Zhang Sanfeng stood on the long steps of Shaoshi Mountain, cold‑eyed, watching the mysterious gray‑robed elder.

"Wudang Mountain and Shaolin are both hailed as the Tai‑Shan and Bei‑Dou of the martial world, respected by peers of the Three Kingdoms era; you, Zhang Sanfeng, are the pinnacle of all martial arts. Now the demon runs rampant, yet you stand by as sect heads march to their deaths!"

The gray‑robed elder kept sneering; many who heard his words silently nodded in agreement.

They had placed their hope on Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang, believing the two together could outweigh Chu Yang, but the result left them greatly disappointed.

The murmurs grew louder, even taking on a sense of collective outrage.

Zhang Sanfeng observed their expressions, suddenly feeling a suffocating frustration that no words could relieve.

Unless these people witness Chu Yang's terror firsthand, they cannot understand why he avoids battle so fiercely.

Feng Qingyang had originally grown weary of worldly entanglements and foolishness, choosing seclusion; these people have successfully ignited his anger.

A trace of expectation arose in his heart.

He looked forward to the expression on their faces when Chu Yang's slaughtering blade falls upon them.

Feng Qingyang's mouth corner lifted slightly.

After the gray‑robed elder finished his tirade, Zhang and Feng became the targets of the crowd; suddenly a gentleman in splendid robes emerged, handsome and dignified.

"I am Gusu Murong Fu. I just heard the senior's words and felt indignant, so I could not help but speak up!"

Murong Fu bowed toward the surroundings, "The senior is right; our martial skill is inferior to this demon's, so we must unite as one to truly exterminate demons and protect the Dao."

"I want to see just how formidable the demon is that even Zhang the Immortal dares not oppose!"

The gray‑robed elder laughed loudly, looking around, "Everyone may watch from the sidelines; after I and this Murong gentleman fall in battle, you can then decide whether to fight the demon desperately or bow to him."

Their actions seemed extremely bold to others, and many were already itching to join them.

Chu Yang had been watching the gray‑robed elder all along; only after Murong Fu appeared and stood with him did he suddenly recall the elder's true identity.

"Murong Bo, you old wretched calf, still know how to squeeze gaps."

"Back then you fabricated false intel to fool Abbot Xuan Ci into leading a group to assassinate Qiao Feng's parents and relatives; now you incite these fools to oppose me here. Tsk tsk, it would be a pity if you didn't go on a pyramid scheme."

Chu Yang shook his head and laughed.

With those words spoken.

Abbot Xuan Ci and the gray‑robed elder both changed expression at once.

Murong Fu was stunned.

Many who knew about that old incident also wore very striking expressions.

"Murong Bo? That name does sound familiar…"

Zhang Sanfeng twitched his mustache and fell into thought.

Song Yuanqiao indeed knew this person; his age was close to the other's. When Murong Bo's name shook the jianghu, Song had already been training at the foot of the mountain for several years and remembered him well.

Moreover, he had heard some rumors about the Yannan Pass incident.

Song Yuanqiao walked up to Zhang Sanfeng and whispered a few words; the latter's face showed understanding.

On the other side, Abbot Xuan Ci stared intently at Murong Bo, completely ignoring Chu Yang's presence; his greatest regret in life was the tragic Yamen Pass case of those days.

Back then Murong Bo feigned death, taking all the blame upon himself, but now Murong Bo stands alive before him, proving that the events were a complete conspiracy!

"Sir, are you truly the venerable benefactor Murong Bo?"

Abbot Xuan Ci inhaled deeply. Murong Bo ignored him, frowned at Chu Yang, and thought, "How did this kid see through my identity?"

"Who exactly are you?!"

As the saying goes, the Diamond Buddha glowers, the Bodhisattva lowers his brow; even Abbot Xuan Ci, after years of chanting sutras, still harbors a spark of anger.

Having hidden for a lifetime, now that his identity is exposed, Murong Bo grew tired of the charade and tore off the mask on his face, revealing his true visage.

When Murong Fu saw the other's appearance, his body shivered and he shouted excitedly, "Father! It's really you!"

Murong Bo laughed heartily and embraced Murong Fu.

"Tsk tsk, truly a benevolent father and filial son. By the way, where have the other father‑son pair gone?"

Chu Yang looked around with interest; a duel between two father‑son pairs was far more entertaining than a martial‑arts tournament, feeling like watching a holographic drama.

"Regarding the Yamen Pass incident back then, I always had doubts, but with Mr. Murong's death there was no proof, and I had no other way. Now that the gentleman is alive and well, it seems we don't even need to confront each other, right?"

Abbot Xuan Ci gripped his meditation staff tightly.

"Exactly! Back then I deliberately lured you, along with the jianghu elite, to ambush that Liao family."

"Why?"

"Ha ha, if you Song and Liao continue to be friendly, when will my Great Yan state seize the chance to rise and restore the kingdom?"

Murong Bo's eyes turned blood‑red, his tone and demeanor growing increasingly frantic.

Restoring Great Yan was his obsession, and also his inner demon.

Abbot Xuan Ci was about to ask again when the crowd erupted in shocked cries, and a towering seven‑foot man slowly stepped forward.

"It's Qiao Feng!!!"

Murong Bo's expression hardened.

The main target had arrived.

Murong Fu licked his lips, a little nervous, and instinctively drew his treasured sword.

The mortal enemy stood right before them, yet Xiao Feng did not glance at them; he walked straight to Chu Yang, clasped his fists, and bowed deeply.

"I, Xiao, heard that Master Chu had come here and feared that you might be attacked by petty men, so I came to help. I never expected to receive your kindness; now I truly have no way to repay you."

The crowd was horrified.

Cries of shock rose one after another.

The former Beggar Sect leader Qiao Feng was actually that demon's henchman?

Chu Yang had imagined Xiao Feng might join the fray, but did not expect he was there to help him.

"How is Miss A Zhu doing lately?"

"Thanks to Master Chu's help, A Zhu is fine. In a few days she will go with me beyond the frontier."

"Don't set that FLAG, it's inauspicious."

Xiao Feng: "???"

Abbot Xuan Ci, who was confronting Murong Bo, saw Xiao Feng and showed a remorseful expression, lowering his head to chant a Buddha name.

"Khitan traitors and demons, truly thick‑skinned allies!"

"Friends, compared with these two, my Xianbei clan should be hardly a threat, right?"

"If we don't eliminate them today, besides everything else, how many sects could ever leave Shaoshi Mountain?"

Murong Bo continued to incite everyone who bore hostility toward Chu Yang and Xiao Feng.

Xiao Feng's intention to lend Chu Yang a hand was good, but he didn't realize he himself was a conglomerate of hatred.

Just the two of them standing together almost offended every sect in the Three Kingdoms jianghu.

The chorus of support grew louder; Murong Bo showed a satisfied smile, walked to Abbot Xuan Ci's side and whispered, "Please, Abbot, put the greater good first."

Abbot Xuan Ci's gaze was complicated; he remained silent.

Xiao Feng stood before Chu Yang, his whole aura swirling, already prepared for a death‑match.

Both sides were tense, ready to erupt at any moment.

"Big brother!"

A young man in a long robe, looking like a noble son, forced his way through the crowd, stumbling to Xiao Feng's side.

Xiao Feng shouted with delight, "Second brother?!"

Duan Yu wiped the sweat from his forehead, grinned and said, "Don't worry, big brother, little brother is here to support you!"

After a few words of exchange, more people emerged from the crowd.

At the front, a charismatic figure—Prince Duan Zhengchun of Dali—stood, followed by several of his retainers.

Xiao Feng and Prince Duan Zhengchun exchanged a glance, both showing a hint of awkwardness.

Prince Duan Zhengchun already knew A Zhu was his daughter, and Xiao Feng was very likely to become his son‑in‑law.

Because of A Zhu, Xiao Feng didn't want Duan Yu and Duan Zhengchun to be dragged in, so he urged, "As for today's affair, second brother, you should not take part; hurry back with Prince Duan."

Duan Yu became anxious.

Duan Zhengchun reached out, grabbed Duan Yu, kept a composed face and shook his head; the current situation truly is not something the Duan family can get involved in.

In such a tense situation, Chu Yang yawned, lazily walked to Xiao Feng's side, patted his shoulder and said, "You shouldn't take part either; go with them."

Xiao Feng was stunned.

He had just said that to Duan Yu.

"Don't put Prince Duan in a difficult position; after all, A Zhu is his daughter, she wouldn't just stand by idly. If something happens, A Zhu would be the one who suffers."

"Moreover…"

"To put it bluntly, even if everyone standing here now is against me, to me they're just chickens and dogs, no match at all."

The powerful confidence instantly infected Xiao Feng; he took a deep breath, clasped his fists, stepped back a few paces, didn't leave directly, but stood by the carriage like a guard.

This was the greatest concession Xiao Feng could make; he could stay out of it, but had to do something to repay the favor.

Helping Chu Yang look after Huang Rong and Li Mochou on the carriage was the best choice.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Waiting for me to kill you all one by one?"

Chu Yang sneered, waved his hand toward Murong Bo and his son, paused, then made the same gesture toward all directions.

A deafening roar filled the air.

Zhang Sanfeng and Feng Qingyang wore solemn expressions; they sensed the killing intent emanating from Chu Yang.

Murong Bo's eyes flashed with excitement; if today he led the heroes to slay Chu Yang and Xiao Feng, the prestige of him and his son would reach awe‑inspiring heights.

With that prestige, the restoration of Great Yan looks hopeful!

"Everyone, kill with me!"

Murong Bo raised his head and let out a long howl, turning into a gray shadow that surged toward Chu Yang; he resolved to fight to the death, leaving the results for Murong Fu to inherit!

The crowd surged.

Those sect heads who knew they would die followed closely, charging with Murong Bo toward Chu Yang; their disciples, eyes reddened, also rushed forward.

Chu Yang had broken two of Murong Bo's fingers; forced, Murong Bo could only use the Wei Tuo Palm against him, while Chu Yang neither dodged nor avoided, letting both palms strike his body.

Thump thump thump.

A muffled sound rang out; Murong Bo felt his palms as if hitting bronze, extremely hard, the reverberating force making his finger bones and arms ache as if broken.

"I thought you'd give me an interesting scene, but you turned out to be so boring in the end."

Murong Bo looked up, meeting Chu Yang's cold eyes, and his heart leapt.

He turned to leave, but a terrifying suction came from behind.

Chu Yang squeezed his neck.

The shadow of death rose in his mind; Murong Bo could no longer stay calm, shouting for help loudly, his hands flailing wildly into the air.

"No! Stop!"

Crack!

Murong Bo's body suddenly stiffened, then his arm fell limp.

Murong Fu, seeing this, eyes bulging, shouted, "Father!!!"

In the blink of an eye, the once haughty Murong Bo now turned into a dead man, startling those sect heads into halting their steps.

"Stop now, you will still die."

Chu Yang smiled kindly, like the big brother next door.

One sentence crushed the brief return of their sanity, their eyes bloodshot, bearing the look of desperate outlaws.

They pressed forward one after another.

The number of dead kept rising.

Chu Yang's feet were surrounded by piles of corpses.

"Since you love calling me 'Demon Lord' so much, I must do something worthy of that title."

Chu Yang said this plainly while killing.

By the end of the slaughter, no one dared to advance; in front of the Great Hero Hall, bodies lay scattered, blood flowed like a river.

Whose weapon had fallen to the ground, unknown.

Clang—, startling everyone awake.

The remaining sect heads and their disciples, one after another, dropped their weapons, trembling, crawling to the ground, continuously kneeling and bowing to Chu Yang.

Chu Yang looked at them indifferently, "No longer eliminating demons to guard the Dao?"

They dared not answer, repeatedly kowtowing; some, with blood streaming from their heads, dared not stop.

Zhang Sanfeng closed his eyes in pain; he had striven to prevent this scene, but it turned out contrary to his wishes.

Feng Qingyang sighed, turned and left.

Yue Buqun, still shaken, followed him.

It was only a hair's breadth; the Huashan Sect could have ended up like these people…

Linghu Chong carried the fainted junior sister, walking slowly, somewhat dazed.

In his mind, the scenes of Chu Yang's killings replayed constantly; he had originally intended to intervene, but Feng Qingyang had a tight grip on him, rendering him immobile.

"Even if I rushed forward, I'd just die, right? What good is sword practice after all?" Linghu Chong grew more sorrowful, his expression alternating between ferocity and pain.

Chu Yang stepped through the pool of blood back to the carriage, looking at Li Mochou and the little Dragon Girl sleeping in her arms.

"From today onward, you and this jianghu, all grudges and favors, are erased in one stroke."

Li Mochou had already been weeping, nodding vigorously.

In front of the Great Hero Hall, blood flowed like a river.

Looking at the corpses everywhere, Abbot Xuan Ci's face was ashen, a streak of fresh blood slowly flowing from the corner of his mouth.

After this battle, the reputation of the Shaolin Temple will forever be bound with Chu Yang.

Zhang Sanfeng looked sorrowful and silently recited the Daoist Afterlife Sutra.

"Self‑inflicted sin cannot be lived."

Feng Qingyang listened to the scripture and said calmly.

Chu Yang emerged from the sea of corpses and blood; his sky‑blue robe remained spotless.

He walked up to Abbot Xuan Ci, stared indifferently, and said, "Although Shaolin did not act, as hosts you also bear responsibility."

Abbot Xuan Ci laughed wretchedly, "As the headmaster, may I die alone?"

Chu Yang shook his head and pointed to Xiao Feng beside the carriage, "Your life belongs to him."

Xiao Feng stepped forward before Abbot Xuan Ci, his cold eyes full of killing intent; Murong Bo, the mastermind, had already been slain by Chu Yang, and seeking revenge, he could only target the highly respected Abbot Xuan Ci.

"Amitabha, all the countless mistakes are my sole fault; I hope Patron Xiao can spare the other Shaolin monks and not forget that your master Xuan Ku was also a Shaolin disciple…"

Remembering his former teacher, the killing aura around Xiao Feng suddenly waned.

"Old thief, meet your death!"

Xiao Feng hesitated, when a black silhouette descended from the sky, landed before Abbot Xuan Ci, and shattered his heart meridian with a palm strike.

Abbot Xuan Ci spat blood, clutched his chest and fell, a string of prayer beads dropping from his body and shattering.

The man in black glanced at Xiao Feng, then used lightness skill to flee the scene.

Xiao Feng recovered from shock and hurried after the black‑clothed man, both disappearing from sight.

"Given Xiao Feng's temperament, he is likely not to kill you; Xiao Yuanshan knew this, which is why he appeared suddenly."

Chu Yang crouched, picked up a prayer bead, and placed it in Abbot Xuan Ci's palm.

Hearing the name Xiao Yuanshan, Abbot Xuan Ci's eyes suddenly flashed with inexplicable light, his breathing quickened, "I see, I see, evil meets retribution…"

The moment Abbot Xuan Ci fell, many monks rushed out of the Mahavira Hall, some calling him Abbot, some elder brother, some master or uncle.

Chu Yang stepped back a few paces, yielding his spot to the monks; while they wailed, he marched forward.

He was heading to the Scripture Repository.

"Patron Chu, my sins are deserved; could you spare the other Shaolin monks?"

Abbot Xuan Ci's voice, as if reflected by a flash, became thunderously loud.

Chu Yang nodded and continued onward.

"Little Chu, wait for me!"

Huang Rong saw Chu Yang about to enter, leapt from the carriage, walked a few steps looking uneasy, turned to Zhang Sanfeng with a sweet smile, "Daoist Grandfather, please look after Mo Chou and Long Er; Huang Rong and Little Chu will be right back."

Zhang Sanfeng forced a smile, "Miss, on Shaoshi Mountain, who dares to provoke Daoist Chu?"

Huang Rong looked around; everyone wore terrified faces, none daring to meet her gaze.

A crowd of frightened people indeed had nothing to worry about.

After Huang Rong passed through the Mahavira Hall, traversed several corridors, passed a few great halls, she stopped at an ancient‑looking loft.

Directly ahead, Chu Yang was speaking with an old monk sweeping the floor.

The old monk's eyebrows and beard were snow‑white, he looked very aged, his wrinkled hands gripping the broom like tree bark.

Yet his bright, penetrating eyes left a deep impression on Huang Rong.

"Patron, your killing aura is heavy; you should go to the Scripture Repository, read some sutras to dispel it."

The sweeping monk pressed his palms together.

"Why didn't you stop me earlier? Add Zhang Sanfeng, add Feng Qingyang, maybe you could capture me?"

Chu Yang looked at him with a half‑smile.

"There is absolutely no such possibility!"

The sweeping monk shook his head.

"Oh, why?"

Chu Yang suddenly grew curious.

"I am a dull monk; after decades of enlightenment in the Scripture Repository, I have mastered almost all Buddhist martial arts, just now beginning to grasp a bit of cultivation, still far from being comparable to you, Mr. Chu."

The sweeping monk paused briefly, sighing, "Still not as good as Brother Zhang of Wudang Mountain."

Chu Yang laughed heartily, "I thought you also wanted to ferry me across, like with Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo."

The sweeping monk shivered in alarm.

"Since you won't block me, I shall enter." With that, Chu Yang turned and waved to Huang Rong, signaling her to follow him inside.

Huang Rong instantly beamed, like a little squirrel, hopping and bouncing behind Chu Yang.

"Sir Chu is already a deity‑like figure; why does he still cling to mortal martial arts?"

The sweeping monk was perplexed; he could not guess Chu Yang's thoughts.

"Because it's interesting."

Chu Yang gave a reason that made the sweeping monk even more confused, and entered the Scripture Repository amid the monk's bewildered stare.

One and a half months later.

The carriage returned to that familiar Southern Song town.

Pushing open the gate, Chu Yang looked at the sun‑lit courtyard and felt as if he had stepped into another world.

He had originally only intended to work on the "Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique," but inadvertently became a world‑renowned demon.

He set down his luggage; Chu Yang, Li Mochou, and Huang Rong began cleaning the previously vacant room, which would become the home of Li Mochou and Little Dragon Girl.

Cleaning required little effort, only some dust, and the outer courtyard bore traces of previous cleaning.

Whenever a child from the nearby households attended Chu Yang's private school, the villagers would voluntarily help Chu Yang with small tasks, such as cleaning, and Chu Yang never locked the doors.

Even a thief wouldn't come to Chu Yang's house to steal.

First, there's really nothing worth stealing at home; second, Chu Yang is a renowned good man throughout the ten‑mile radius, praised by all, and he's a teacher—these days thieves also adhere to a code of honor.

After tidying everything, dusk fell, it was too late to cook, and everyone was too tired to move, so Chu Yang took them to the restaurant they often visited.

Huang Rong was delighted; it was the place where she first met Chu Yang, holding special meaning.

Li Mochou's facial scar had almost healed, leaving only a faint trace; walking on the road, she could now face the stares of passersby calmly.

Xiao Long Nu, hidden in Li Mochou's arms, secretly surveyed the world.

In the restaurant's main hall, the storyteller was sweating profusely; Chu Yang and the others leaned in to listen, their expressions a bit strange.

"Ladies and gentlemen, did you know that a top‑tier great demon has recently appeared on the jianghu? No one knows his real name; he is only called 'Chu Xiansheng'!"

"Speaking of this Chu Xiansheng, he's formidable! Even Zhang Laoshenxian, a centuries‑old immortal on Mount Wudang, was defeated by him!"

"Just recently, he even struck at Shao Shi Shan…"

The storyteller kept the wooden clapper in his hand without pausing, delivering a long monologue in one breath; the diners listened intently, their chopsticks never leaving their grasp.

Until…

A waiter emerging from the back kitchen saw Chu Yang's party and shouted cheerfully.

"Yo, you're back!"

"Chu Xiansheng!"

The storyteller's voice abruptly stopped!

The wooden clapper crashed heavily onto the floor!

The diners turned back in terror!

Chu Yang smiled.

"Hmm."

"I'm back."

(End of chapter)