Chapter 28: The More Beautiful a Woman, the Better She Lies

Wu Lie’s heart churned with a thousand thoughts, yet his face revealed not a trace.

“Young Master Zhang, in these past few years, no one named Zhang Wuji has come to our Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa.”

As he spoke, a flicker of genuine confusion crossed his face, as if he truly had never seen Zhang Wuji.

“Brilliant acting!”

Zhang Jie silently gave Wu Lie a thumbs-up in his mind.

With this kind of acting, in the 21st century, the Oscars would surely award him a little golden statuette.

Zhang Jie feigned anxious urgency:

“Please, Master Wu, think hard—our Patriarch misses Brother Wuji dearly.”

Zhang Jie deliberately invoked Zhang Sanfeng to pressure Wu Lie.

True to form, Wu Lie’s expression changed the moment he heard Zhang Sanfeng’s name.

That hundred-year-old Daoist, though he hadn’t set foot off the mountain for over a decade,

still instilled fear in every martial artist who knew his name.

Wu Lie knew silence wouldn’t drive Zhang Jie away,

so he pretended to ponder deeply, then slowly said:

“Several years ago, no one named Zhang Wuji came to our Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa.”

Seeing Zhang Jie’s expression darken slightly, he continued:

“But a young man named Ceng Aniu did come.”

He then described Ceng Aniu’s physical features in detail.

“Snap!”

Zhang Jie leapt up, slapping the table: “That’s my Brother Wuji!”

“What? Ceng Aniu is Zhang Wuji—the orphan of Zhang Wu the Fifth?”

Wu Lie looked utterly shocked, as if he’d just now learned Ceng Aniu’s true identity.

Zhang Jie feigned intense emotion and pressed:

“Master Wu, where is my Brother Wuji now?”

“Young Master Zhang, please accept your loss,” Wu Lie’s face darkened with sorrow,

“Ceng Aniu—no, Young Master Zhang Wuji—passed away three years ago.”

“What? My Brother Wuji is dead?”

Zhang Jie froze as if struck by lightning, muttering in disbelief.

“Yes.

Young Master Wuji fell in love at first sight with my niece Jiuzhen three years ago.

They were already at the stage of discussing marriage, preparing to choose an auspicious day to wed,

but he accidentally slipped and fell off a cliff during a picnic.”

Wu Lie, as the lord of a mountain villa, swiftly crafted a convincing lie.

Zhang Jie, feigning disbelief, struggled to speak:

“Is Miss Jiuzhen still in the villa? I wish to confirm this with her.”

“Naturally.”

Wu Lie nodded and ordered a maid waiting outside the hall to fetch Zhu Jiuzhen.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

“Uncle Wu, you called for me?”

Soon, Zhu Jiuzhen, beautiful and curvaceous, entered the hall holding a large dog, speaking sweetly.

Once arrogant and disdainful, the past three years since her father Zhu Zhangling’s death had taught her

that the sole master of the Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa now sat upon the main seat—Wu Lie!

If she wished to remain in the villa and keep her title as Miss Zhu Jiuzhen, she must flatter Wu Lie.

“Jiuzhen, tell Young Master Zhang in detail how Ceng Aniu fell off the cliff three years ago.

Also, Ceng Aniu was not his real name—he was Zhang Wuji, the orphan of Zhang Wu the Fifth.”

Wu Lie feared Jiuzhen might slip up, so he spoke first.

He also introduced Zhang Jie to her:

“This is Brother Wuji’s senior disciple, Young Master Zhang Jie of Wudang.”

Wu Lie’s words made Zhang Jie’s face twitch:

Are they really this blatant about collusion now?

Yet Zhang Jie, still pursuing his goal, remembered his duty as an actor:

Never break character before the play ends.

Clever and malicious Jiuzhen instantly understood Wu Lie’s hint.

She bit her lip, slipped into role at once, eyes reddening,

tears welling up as if they would spill any second:

“I went on a spring outing with Aniu…”

“Yin Suxu was right: the more beautiful the woman, the better she lies.”

Listening to Zhu Jiuzhen’s vivid, detailed recounting of “Ceng Aniu’s accidental fall,” Zhang Jie sighed inwardly.

Any outsider would surely be deceived by Wu Lie and Zhu Jiuzhen’s flawless performances.

As Zhang Jie marveled, he pretended to believe them, speaking in a mournful tone:

“Where exactly did my Brother Wuji fall? I wish to pay my respects.”

“That is only proper.”

Wu Lie exhaled in relief and immediately ordered servants to prepare yellow paper, incense, candles, and offerings.

An hour later, Zhang Jie, carrying the incense, candles, and offerings himself, followed Wu Lie and Zhu Jiuzhen to a cliff’s edge.

The cliff was shrouded in mist, its depths invisible.

Zhang Jie asked again, confirming:

“This is where my Brother Wuji fell?”

“Yes.”

Annoyed by Zhang Jie’s repeated questioning, Zhu Jiuzhen rolled her eyes,

answering with absolute certainty.

“Let’s hurry and pay our respects to Young Master Wuji.”

Wu Lie, equally impatient, urged him on.

This cliff wasn’t just Zhang Wuji’s grave—it was also where his sworn brother Zhu Zhangling lay buried!

The thought of losing his good brother because of Zhang Wuji made Wu Lie’s chest ache.

If only he could trade that brother for the Dragon-Slaying Saber that could command the world.

But now, he’d lost his brother and gained nothing—not even the Dragon-Slaying Saber.

These past three years, holding up the Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa alone, he’d grown increasingly exhausted.

Zhu Jiuzhen took the bamboo basket from Zhang Jie, ready to place the chicken, goose,

fruits, and other offerings, then light the incense and burn the paper money.

“No!”

At that moment, Zhang Jie, who had been staring into the bottomless cliff, suddenly lifted his head,

his face set with resolve: “I cannot let my Brother Wuji lie exposed on the wild cliffs.

I will descend the cliff, find his bones, and bring them back to Wudang Mountain!”

“What?”

Zhu Jiuzhen was stunned by Zhang Jie’s words.

Her father Zhu Zhangling’s corpse was still down there!

If Zhang Jie failed to find anything, fine.

But if he succeeded, how could they explain why Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa’s lord lay beside Zhang Wuji?

Wouldn’t that be an admission of guilt—that they were tied to Zhang Wuji’s death?

And if they dug deeper, wouldn’t their murder of Zhang Wuji be exposed?

“No, Young Master Zhang.

This cliff is bottomless, full of jagged rocks—too dangerous.”

Wu Lie, fully aware of the stakes, tried to dissuade Zhang Jie with the cliff’s peril.

“Young Master Zhang, three years have passed—Aniu’s bones are surely long gone, devoured by birds and beasts.

You’ll find nothing if you go down,” Zhu Jiuzhen also pleaded desperately.

“No!

My Brother Wuji and I were inseparable—he lives, I must see him; he dies, I must see his body!

Even if he’s left with only a single hair, I will bring it back to Wudang Mountain!”

Zhang Jie refused Wu Lie and Zhu Jiuzhen’s pleas without hesitation, his tone absolute.

Wu Lie and Zhu Jiuzhen fell silent, sensing the unshakable resolve in Zhang Jie’s words.