Chapter 15: If You Have a Gun But Won

Zhang Jie, confident in his martial prowess, casually pushed open the window and leapt inside.

“Impressive skill!”

Seeing Zhang Jie’s light, fluid movements, Wang Chuang’s pupils contracted sharply.

Even if he himself attempted it, he doubted he could match such effortless grace.

“Hah! I thought it was someone important—turns out it’s just a weakling.”

The other bandits lacked Wang Chuang’s discernment; they stared at Zhang Jie’s slender, almost emaciated frame beneath his black attire and laughed mockingly.

To them, accustomed to judging strength by muscle mass and height, a body that didn’t bulge explosively or tower above others held no intimidation.

“Big Boss, let me take him down!”

Eager to prove himself, Third Brother raised his waist saber and charged toward Zhang Jie.

“Go, Third Brother!”

“Third Brother, you’re awesome!”

The other bandits cheered loudly for their Third Brother.

Many had already placed bets on how many moves Zhang Jie could survive against him.

Suddenly, Third Brother collapsed clutching his stomach, barely three meters from Zhang Jie.

His waist saber clattered to the floor.

“Third Brother, what’s wrong with you?”

The other bandits were baffled.

Even Zhang Jie was confused—what trick was this bandit playing?

Just moments ago, Third Brother had charged at him with fierce intent,

and Zhang Jie had assumed he possessed some secret technique, raising his guard accordingly!

Zhang Jie had even prepared to channel his inner Qi and draw his longsword—when Third Brother suddenly collapsed.

Zhang Jie couldn’t help but feel amused: Was this Third Brother some clown sent by monkeys?

Was he trying to laugh Zhang Jie to death?

Still, despite the urge to laugh, Zhang Jie remained alert, wary of any new tricks.

One must never be caught off guard in a ditch!

“Poison—the wine’s poisoned!”

Third Brother, writhing in agony as if fire and knives churned inside his belly, pointed tremblingly at Wang Chuang.

“What? The wine’s poisoned?”

The bandits, who had just been drinking the wine like water, turned pale with shock.

If the wine was poisoned, then they too must have been poisoned!

“Big Boss, how could you poison your own brothers?”

A sharp-minded bandit already knew who was responsible.

In Wild Boar Village, who else but Big Boss Wang Chuang had the chance to poison everyone?

“Big Boss, don’t you care about brotherhood?”

One bandit cried out in anguish, accusing Wang Chuang.

Yet years of Wang Chuang’s iron rule had instilled such deep fear,

that even poisoned, none dared speak his name outright.

“Brotherhood? How much is brotherhood worth?”

Wang Chuang, still seated calmly on his tiger-skin chair, spoke with icy indifference.

"Brotherly loyalty? How much is brotherly loyalty worth?"

Wang Chuang sat impassively on the tiger-skin armchair.

One by one, bandits began collapsing like Third Brother, clutching their stomachs and writhing on the floor.

Soon, only Wang Chuang and Zhang Jie remained unharmed in the hall.

Bandits continued to collapse like Brother San, clutching their stomachs and writhing on the ground.

“Big Boss Wang, what boldness—and what a cruel heart.”

Zhang Jie clapped lightly, witnessing the scene.

This Big Boss had realized he couldn’t satisfy this pack of blood-hungry wolves,

and decisively chose to strike first, avoiding being devoured by them.

The only thing that could have driven Wang Chuang to such a ruthless decision was the death of Ximen Qing.

And Ximen Qing’s death had only just been reported yesterday by the Ximen family and the county office.

That meant Wang Chuang had spent just one night deliberating before deciding to kill all his brothers to eliminate future threats!

The news of Ximen Qing’s death had only just spread yesterday from the Ximen household and the county yamen.

A petty man isn’t a true gentleman; without cruelty, one isn’t a real man. You flatter me.”

Facing Zhang Jie’s mockery, Wang Chuang didn’t take offense—he was plainly proud.

The only regret he felt was this sudden black-clad intruder interrupting his plan.

Otherwise, his plan would have been flawless.

But if he killed this black-clad man, his plan would still be flawless!

“Big Boss, you poisoned us.

Now someone’s infiltrated the mountain—what will you do about him?”

One of the veteran bandits, writhing on the floor, spoke with grim satisfaction.

From his years of street experience, he knew that except for a few naive fools,

anyone bold enough to ambush a whole bandit stronghold alone must be a master of martial skill.

Judging by how casually this black-clad man had appeared and conversed with them,

he wasn’t just experienced—he was a true expert with extraordinary abilities!

Meaning, this black-clad man likely had the power to challenge the entire Wild Boar Village.

Now, without their numbers as support,

even though Wang Chuang was the strongest individual fighter in the village,

he would likely die at the hands of this black-clad man.

“Big Boss, we’ll wait for you on the Yellow Springs Road!”

One bandit’s eyes burned with hatred.

They could accept dying in a raid from guards’ retaliation, or being crushed by government troops,

even being captured and publicly beheaded at the marketplace—they’d have no complaints.

But they could not accept dying from betrayal by their own,

especially from the one they trusted most and obeyed without question: Big Boss Wang Chuang!

“Hah! You needn’t worry about that.

And if you plan to wait for me on the Yellow Springs Road, you’ll wait a long time.”

Wang Chuang laughed heartily, showing not a trace of fear.

Excluding the possibility he was insane, the only explanation was that he had another advantage.

Wang Chuang yanked aside the tiger-skin behind him and pulled something from the back of the wooden chair.

“Shenbi Crossbow?”

Zhang Jie exclaimed upon seeing what Wang Chuang held.

The object in Wang Chuang’s hands—its design unmistakable—was a Shenbi Crossbow:

a body of mulberry wood, limbs of sandalwood, fitted with iron stirrups, a spearhead, and a brass horse-face trigger mechanism,

with a string length of two feet five inches and a total length of three feet three inches,

capable of shooting between two hundred forty and three hundred forty paces.

This Shenbi Crossbow was terrifyingly powerful—it could pierce half the shaft of an elm tree,

its force rivaling that of a modern light firearm!

Zhang Jie regarded the Shenbi Crossbow with deep wariness.

Though he possessed inner Qi and lightness skills,

he had no confidence he could withstand a shot from a weapon matching modern firearms.

Based on his estimates, only two figures in the Heaven and Earth Sword Chronicles could completely ignore the Shenbi Crossbow:

Zhang Sanfeng, now a hundred years old and creator of Taiji Quan and Taiji Jian,

and Zhang Wuji, who had fully mastered the Nine Yang Divine Art and the Qi-Nature Shift.

Other top-tier masters like the Yin-Yang Elders, Abbess Miéjué, Bai Meiying, and Xie Xun—if struck in a vital spot—would die instantly.

Of course, with their keen eyesight and speed, it was hard for a Shenbi Crossbow to even aim at such masters.

“You clearly have excellent knowledge.”

Wang Chuang was now certain this black-clad man was no ordinary outsider.

Of course, with these experts’ vision and speed, it’s hard to aim a divine-arm crossbow at them.

“Sir, you indeed have keen insight.”

Wang Chuang became even more certain that the black-clothed man before him was of extraordinary origin.

This crossbow is a military treasure; only noble families or seasoned soldiers can recognize it.

Wang Chuang was once a soldier of the Western Army, but he cowardly shrank from battle, refusing to face the feared Western Xia Iron Hawks.

So he stole one crossbow and a dozen bolts, fleeing back to his hometown.

But the military guarded the crossbow tightly; someone later traced his path by following the marks left by his use of the crossbow.

They gradually uncovered his identity.

Forced to flee his home, he eventually took refuge on Wild Boar Mountain.

With such a devastating weapon in hand, he could remain calm and composed,

chatting idly with Zhang Jie, the mysterious black-clad man whose origins and abilities were unknown.

“You’re bold enough to defy heaven, Master Wang.”

Zhang Jie murmured in amazement.

Although our Great Song has long been called a coward, weak in foreign wars, it excels in internal suppression:

Since Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin seized the throne from the orphaned and widowed Chai family and founded the Song, over a hundred years have passed.

Dozens of rebellions have arisen in these years, yet all were crushed one by one by the Song.

This was partly because our cowardly Song “shares the realm with scholar-officials,” denying rebels the support of the literati,

and partly because the Song enforced an extremely strict ban on military arms.

Though swords and ordinary hunting bows were permitted, armor and crossbows were tightly forbidden—so tightly guarded as to be impenetrable.

A common saying among the people goes: “One suit of armor outweighs three crossbows; three suits send you to the underworld.”

Wang Chuang had hidden not just any crossbow, but the divine-arm crossbow—a weapon so rare,

even a sentence of family extermination would be justified.

Even though Wang Chuang had become an outlaw, the Song’s laws no longer reached him,

yet if the authorities discovered he possessed the divine-arm crossbow, they would surely send an army to sweep his lair clean.

“If you and they all die here, who will know I have the divine-arm crossbow?”

Wang Chuang pointed at Zhang Jie, then at the fallen “brothers,” outlining his solution.

As he spoke, Wang Chuang began to string the crossbow.

Over the years, he had secretly practiced stringing it countless times.

He was certain he could string it before Zhang Jie reached him—and then pierce Zhang Jie’s heart with one shot!

“Heaven has doomed us!”

The bandits lying on the ground, seeing no hope of revenge, wailed in despair.

“Heaven? With this crossbow in hand, I am heaven!”

Wang Chuang’s expression was arrogant.

He already imagined killing everyone here, then fleeing with his accumulated wealth,

buying hundreds of acres of land in some remote place, taking several wives,

fathering several fat sons, living the life of a warm hearth, wife, and children.

As he thought of it, a blissful smile spread across Wang Chuang’s face.

It was hard to imagine such a smile on the face of a ruthless killer like Wang Chuang.

“Bang!”

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed.

The smile froze on Wang Chuang’s face.

For a small, circular wound, the size of a little finger, appeared on his forehead,

and a slow trickle of red-and-white fluid oozed from it.

The bandits stared, stunned, at the strange weapon in Zhang Jie’s hand, still steaming with white vapor.

Just now, this black-clad man had pulled out the odd short-tube weapon from his sleeve in a flash,

pointed it at Master Wang on the platform, and with a sound like thunder,

Master Wang collapsed onto his tiger-skin chair.

“Huh~”

Zhang Jie blew gently on the barrel, then spoke slowly:

“Beyond seven paces, the gun is fast; within seven paces, it is both accurate and fast.”

Though Zhang Jie had felt some caution when Wang Chuang drew the divine-arm crossbow,

he had not feared him—precisely because he carried the truth of a future age.

And so, Master Wang had been instantly convinced—he would never voice opposition again.

As for why Zhang Jie, despite possessing martial arts, still used firearms?

Zhang Jie: If you have a gun and don’t use it, how can you become a grandmaster?

Learn gunfighting arts.

When a martial arts master wields a gun, even immortals cannot stop him!