Chapter 30: Zhu Jiu Zhen

“Merely trivial tricks!”

Zhang Jie sneered in disdain.

The skill of catching a blade barehanded seemed common among all martial artists,

but in reality, successfully catching a blade barehanded demanded extraordinary eyesight and internal power.

Only a master facing an utterly inferior opponent could ever achieve barehanded blade-catching.

Using barehanded blade-catching against an equal—or stronger—opponent was suicide!

Moreover, Zhang Jie already knew Wu Lie’s secret technique: the Orchid Flicking Acupoint Hand, passed down from Nan Di Yideng Master among the Five Greats of the Condor.

Zhu Changling, the chief of Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa, was a former disciple of Nan Di Yideng Master, one of the Four Great Generals,

and later a descendant of Zhu Ziliu, one of the Four Disciples among Fisherman, Woodcutter, Farmer, and Scholar, skilled in the One Yang Finger.

Wu Lie was a descendant of Wu Xiuwen, inheriting the family martial art, the Orchid Flicking Acupoint Hand.

Zhu Changling and Wu Lie were ambitious but incompetent, mere second-rate martial artists, yet they dared to plot to seize

the Dragon-Slaying Blade, the very weapon that had driven all major sects into bloody rivalry—utterly foolhardy!

They genuinely believed that possessing the Dragon-Slaying Blade would grant them dominion over the martial world.

They never considered that Xie Xun, one of the Four Great Law Kings of the Ming Cult himself,

a top-tier master, after obtaining the Dragon-Slaying Blade, had not “commanded all under heaven,”

but instead been hunted by every sect until he had no path to heaven and none to earth,

forced to hide on the unknown Ice-Fire Island, barely clinging to life.

Self-awareness is a precious thing—but neither Wu Lie nor Zhu Changling possessed it.

Facing Wu Lie, Zhang Jie held overwhelming superiority in both martial skill and intelligence—he couldn’t fathom how he could lose!

Zhang Jie wielded his sword like a supple ribbon, growing ever softer, more winding, elusive, his strikes shifting unpredictably, leaving Wu Lie dazzled.

Suddenly, Wu Lie stumbled, as if his internal power had been drained, his strength failing.

His defenses were wide open; with a single thrust,

Zhang Jie could plunge his blade into Wu Lie’s chest and claim victory.

Seeing Wu Lie’s opening, Zhang Jie chose… not to move.

This opening—how to put it?

Too deliberate. Too obvious.

Even if this weren’t Wu Lie’s trap, Zhang Jie had no urgency.

Time was on his side; he needed no risk—steady, methodical progress would guarantee victory.

“Damn it! How dare this brat not fall for it!”

Seeing Zhang Jie refuse to take the bait, Wu Lie raged silently in his heart.

“Swish!”

After another dozen exchanges, Zhang Jie, utterly dominant, slashed his blade across Wu Lie’s throat.

“Huh… huh…”

Wu Lie knelt, clutching his neck tightly with both hands.

Yet no matter how hard he pressed, crimson foam kept pouring endlessly from between his fingers.

Soon, his hands grew weak, his vision blurred, and Wu Lie collapsed face-first onto the ground.

He was dead.

“Pity…”

Zhang Jie gazed at Wu Lie’s corpse, his expression tinged with regret.

He was not mourning Wu Lie’s death.

Wu Lie had dared plot against Wuji, whom Zhang Jie regarded as a beloved brother and kin—he had earned his fate.

What he regretted was that the Yitian Zhang Jie had not yet obtained the Northern Dark Divine Art.

Had the Yitian Zhang Jie acquired the Northern Dark Divine Art,

he could have drained Wu Lie’s internal power, extracting every last drop of value from him.

He hated waste above all—he always finished every grain of rice in his bowl.

Now, watching Wu Lie’s second-rate internal power vanish into the heavens, he felt profound anguish!

“Forget it—I’ll just visit Dadu later.”

Zhang Jie thought of the Yuan Dynasty’s elite in Dadu:

the Xuanming Elders, A Da, A Er, those Tibetan lamas—and his mood lifted.

Though these masters weren’t endless Jiucai that regrew after every harvest,

there were still plenty enough to sustain his harvests for years to come.

“Swish~”

Zhang Jie flicked his blade, shaking off the blood, and sheathed it.

“Miss Jiu Zhen, I’m coming!”

Zhang Jie vanished in a flash, chasing after the direction Zhu Jiu Zhen had fled.

Just now, after Wu Lie fell into absolute disadvantage,

Zhu Jiu Zhen sensed disaster looming and bolted away with a long stride.

……

“Faster, faster, even faster!”

On the mountain path back to Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa, Zhu Jiu Zhen sprinted wildly, clutching her long skirt.

Thorns and weeds slashed her delicate legs, leaving them covered in wounds,

sweat streamed down her face, nearly soaking her clothes,

her breath came like a torn bellows, each gasp burning her lungs—but she dared not stop.

She knew the man who had killed her Uncle Wu would surely come after her.

“Almost there, almost there!”

Seeing the faint outline of Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa ahead, Zhu Jiu Zhen’s heavy steps lightened slightly.

If she could just return there—if she could just return there—she would surely escape Zhang Jie’s pursuit.

Even Zhang Jie wouldn’t dare kill her with so many eyes watching, would he?

“That Zhang Jie made this lady look so humiliated—

when I get back, I’ll gather every soul in the villa and make him pay!”

Zhu Jiu Zhen seethed with hatred toward Zhang Jie.

In all her years, she had never suffered such humiliation, never been so desperate!

“I’ll chop him into pieces and feed him to the dogs!”

Zhu Jiu Zhen’s mind flashed with cruel tortures to inflict on Zhang Jie.

Then, at a bend in the path, she saw the one person she least wanted to see.

“Y-you—you how are you here?

What did you do to my Uncle Wu?”

Zhu Jiu Zhen stammered at Zhang Jie, who had appeared before her without warning.

“How am I here? Just run a little faster.

As for your Uncle Wu—I’m sure you already guessed his fate.

Otherwise, why flee so early, so desperately?”

Leaning casually against a tree, sword cradled in his arms, Zhang Jie spoke lightly.

“Wu…wu…”

Seeing escape impossible, Zhu Jiu Zhen burst into tears.

In an instant, the sight of a beautiful woman weeping was heartbreakingly pitiful.

“Crying? Crying counts as time.”

Zhang Jie’s expression remained unchanged.

He was no longer the little Daoist who had spent over a decade as Chu Lan on Mount Wudang.

He was a man who had been through Pan Jinlian’s trial.

Zhu Jiu Zhen’s sobs were silenced by Zhang Jie’s impassive gaze.

Failing the pitiful act, recalling how Zhang Jie had looked at her when answering Wu Lie’s question,

Zhu Jiu Zhen conceived a new plan.

She deliberately pulled her already disheveled clothing lower,

exposing the landscape of her bosom dramatically before Zhang Jie’s eyes.

Zhang Jie glanced casually—and saw Mount Qomolangma before him as it had been before his transmigration,

snow-white, with faint pink snow lotuses blooming upon it.

And there were two such Qomolangmas!

“Is this how you test your cadres? What cadre could withstand such a test?”

Zhang Jie felt his lifelong companion stirring restlessly.

His companion kept whispering in his heart:

“Big brother, I want to duo up!”

“Hmph! These damn men are all the same!”

Watching the rapt expression on Zhang Jie’s face, Zhu Jiuzhen felt deeply satisfied.

What good were all those Wudang disciples? What use was that reputation for crushing beautiful flowers? Didn’t they all still fall at her Zhu Jiuzhen’s feet?

As she studied Zhang Jie, Zhu Jiuzhen conceived a bold idea:

“This Zhang Jie, barely past adolescence, has already slain a top-tier martial artist—

Uncle Wu (as Wu Lie and Zhu Zhangling themselves acknowledged).

Given time, he will surely become one of the top martial artists in the Jianghu. If I can control him…”

Zhu Jiuzhen seemed to see the day she would become the supreme ruler of the martial world.

What? You say Zhang Jie will be the true ruler of the Jianghu then?

Haven’t you heard the saying: men conquer the world, but women conquer men?

Besides, to her, Zhang Jie was nothing more than a tool to dominate the Jianghu.

With her heart ablaze, Zhu Jiuzhen decided to give Zhang Jie a taste of sweetness, binding him firmly to her chariot.

“Young Master Zhang, if you spare me, I’m entirely at your mercy.”

Zhu Jiuzhen spoke with what seemed like heartfelt sincerity.

As she spoke, she deliberately leaned into Zhang Jie’s arms.

“Really?”

Driven by the mindset that a fool passes up a good deal, Zhang Jie let Zhu Jiuzhen rest against him.

“Of course it’s true!”

Zhu Jiuzhen blinked her large, innocent, glistening eyes.

“Then…”

Zhang Jie was about to speak when a furious voice rang out from afar:

“What are you doing?”