Chapter 32: A Unique Oddity: Zhu Zhangling

When Zhang Jie went to “take over” his Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa,

on a broad stone platform spanning hundreds of square meters, midway up a cliff,

a ragged, filthy, matted-haired, emaciated white-haired wild man descended into madness.

“Second brother! Zhen’er! Bi’er!”

The white-haired wild man stared at the bodies on the stone platform, smashed beyond recognition,

yet still identifiable by clothing, jade pendants, and other faint clues—Wu Lie,

Zhu Jiuzhen, and Wei Bi—and wailed in anguish.

“Ah! Ah! Who killed you?

I will exterminate their entire clan to avenge you!”

The white-haired wild man let out a wild, thunderous howl toward the sky, startling flocks of birds from the nearby cliff face.

Flap, flap~

The wild man’s cries mingled with the flapping of wings, making the place feel utterly desolate.

…

The next day, the white-haired wild man sat staring before the snow-mounded graves of Zhu Jiuzhen and the other two.

At that moment, a clear voice came from above him:

“I never imagined Master Zhu had lived in such conditions for three years. Zhang Mou is deeply impressed.”

“Who?”

The white-haired wild man—or rather, Zhu Zhangling, the other master of Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa, missing for three years—suddenly looked up.

There he saw a young Daoist priest clad in dark blue robes, carrying a long sword, wearing cloth boots, his face unremarkable yet radiating an indescribable charm,

pulling a rope with no visible end, descending gracefully from midair like a celestial being.

The newcomer was Zhang Jie.

After killing Wu Lie, Zhu Jiuzhen, and Wei Bi yesterday, Zhang Jie returned to Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa to search for supplies.

Somehow, Wu Lie’s daughter Wu Qingying had accidentally slipped and impaled herself on Zhang Jie’s sword.

Thus, Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa was now without a master.

The others of Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa, seeing Zhang Jie’s literary grace and martial virtue, his noble bearing,

were all awed by his aura of authority and pledged their loyalty, offering to make him their new master.

Zhang Jie repeatedly refused, claiming his merit and virtue were too slight to serve as master of Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa,

urging them to find a worthy successor. But they all dropped to their knees at once,

declaring that if Zhang Jie refused to become their new master, they would kneel there until they died.

How could such a kind-hearted man like Zhang Jie watch so many people kneel themselves to death?

In the end, he reluctantly agreed to temporarily assume the position of master,

promising to step down once they found a virtuous and capable replacement.

Zhang Jie: You’ve really made my life miserable. So miserable! Hahaha(((o(*?▽?*)o)))!

Now that the newly appointed acting master had power in his hands, he wielded it immediately,

ordering all ropes in the villa to be gathered and braided into a single rope hundreds of meters long.

This morning, seeing clear skies and gentle winds, ideal for exploring hidden places,

Zhang Jie brought the rope to the cliff’s edge.

After securing the rope to a massive tree, centuries old, requiring several strong men to encircle it,

Zhang Jie stepped onto the Cloud Ascension Ladder and descended along the rope toward the stone platform.

Of course, to prevent any traitor among Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa from cutting the rope,

Zhang Jie anchored a second rope to a massive boulder ten meters below the cliff.

That way, even if someone cut the upper rope,

he could still use the Cloud Ascension Ladder to climb back up and avoid a fatal fall.

Yet, to Zhang Jie’s relief, he had yet to use the backup rope,

proving no traitor existed—and he had already achieved his goal: finding the stone platform.

Zhang Jie surveyed the desolate platform, battered by icy winds, piled with snow,

where only a few hardy vines clung to the sheer cliff face, and murmured in wonder.

Zhu Zhangling had endured this hell for three years and still lived—truly astonishing willpower.

After all, in The Book of the Linked City, under identical icy, starving conditions,

Hua Tiegan had become a barbecue master like Hannibal’s uncle just to survive one winter.

Ever since, the heroic Hua had retreated from the world; though he never chanted sutras,

he ate only vegetarian food, never again allowing meat on his table.

“Who are you?”

Zhu Zhangling rasped out the words with a throat unused for three years, now dry and grating.

Zhu Zhangling forced out a sentence with his throat, unused for three years and now painfully dry.

Master Zhu, haven’t you wondered who killed Wu Lie, Zhu Jiuzhen, and Wei Bi?”

Hearing Zhu Zhangling’s voice, like sandpaper grinding together,

Zhang Jie, having landed gracefully, pointed at the three graves behind him and raised an eyebrow.

“Could it be you who killed my second brother, my daughter, and my nephew?”

Zhu Zhangling fixed Zhang Jie with a glare, his eyes blazing with fury.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Zhangling fixed his gaze on Zhang Jie, his eyes as if blazing with fire.

Zhang Jie nodded without hesitation.

His interest in conversing with Zhu Zhangling stemmed from his belief that Zhu Zhangling was a unique anomaly in the Yi Tian world.

Zhu Zhangling hailed from a prestigious lineage, a descendant of Zhu Ziliu of the Duan clan of Dali,

residing at Kunlun Mountain’s Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa, co-master with Wu Lie.

He was dignified in appearance, refined in speech and manner,

and upon first meeting Zhang Wuji, he presented himself as a benevolent elder, winning trust.

To uncover the whereabouts of Xie Xun and the Dragon-Slaying Saber, Zhu Zhangling devised an elaborate deception.

First, he sent his daughter Zhu Jiuzhen to seduce Zhang Wuji,

then burned down his own villa to simulate “family ruin,”

and finally ordered Wu Lie to impersonate Xie Xun and brutally beat Zhang Wuji, staging a cruel ruse.

Zhang Wuji, pure of heart, believed it all and was ready to reveal everything he knew.

But at the critical moment, Zhang Wuji noticed inconsistencies and uncovered the plot.

When the scheme was exposed, Zhu Zhangling tore off his mask, revealing his vicious nature, and pursued Zhang Wuji.

Zhang Wuji was ultimately driven to the cliff’s edge and leapt down to end his life.

Up to this point, it was normal—a mere ambitious man seeking to seize the Dragon-Slaying Saber and dominate the Jianghu.

At most, a ruthless one willing to sacrifice his daughter and his estate.

But what followed was abnormal: In desperation, Zhu Zhangling reached out to grab Zhang Wuji,

unwilling to lose the trail to the Dragon-Slaying Saber, and fell with him.

Thanks to their profound martial arts, they survived the fall, landing on this suspended stone platform halfway down the cliff, trapped.

During their entrapment, Zhang Wuji stumbled into a cavern within the mountain,

discovered the Nine Yang Divine Art, and trained for five years, becoming a supreme expert.

Zhu Zhangling, meanwhile, remained stranded on this desolate, icy wasteland, physically and mentally broken.

After Zhang Wuji emerged from the cave, he kindly informed Zhu Zhangling of the Nine Yang Divine Art.

Zhu Zhangling, seeing Zhang Wuji’s tall frame pass through the narrow cave entrance, wrongly assumed he could do the same,

then shoved Zhang Wuji off the cliff and crawled back into the narrow opening.

Driven by greed, he pushed too hard, became wedged, unable to move forward or back, and died trapped in the stone passage…

Yes, Zhu Zhangling was first trapped on this platform for five years, then ultimately crushed to death by a narrow stone passage.

A martial artist with such a bizarre death—perhaps none existed across all realms.

Such an anomaly, even across countless worlds, would be exceedingly rare.

What puzzled Zhang Jie was that though this place was hundreds of meters below the cliff’s edge,

Zhu Zhangling had never once attempted to escape, enduring five years of imprisonment.

In five years, he could have carved hundreds of stone steps to climb out,

or even braided ropes from the vines along the platform’s edge—hundreds of meters long, easily.

In the original story, Zhang Wuji was pushed off here and didn’t die,

even though Zhang Wuji had only just completed the Nine Yang Divine Art and was a destiny-favored child,

exceptionally resilient to falls—yet this platform was no more than a few hundred meters above the cliff bottom.

In the original, Zhang Wuji was pushed down here by Zhu Zhangling and did not die.

Even though Zhang Wuji had fully mastered the Nine Yang Divine Art and was a child of destiny, blessed with fortune,

especially resilient to falls, this stone platform was no more than a few hundred meters from the cliff bottom.

After all, the Heaven Sword world is, at its core, a wuxia world,

where flight through the skies and earth, immortality, and indestructible beings simply do not exist.

Not even Zhang Wuji, who had just fully mastered the Nine Yang Divine Art, nor Zhang Wuji, who had brought the Qi Nian Da Nuo Yi—this art of deflecting and channeling force—to perfection,

could survive a fall from a kilometer-high altitude without protection.

He would still become a little pancake.

Sir Newton’s coffin lid cannot be pried open by any martial arts from this wuxia world.

But what did Zhu Zhangling do?

He did nothing—he simply sat there on this stone platform, waiting alive for five full years!

And to die trapped at the end was even funnier.

A martial artist of high skill, killed by a place he himself had entered…

If the Southern Emperor, Master Yidan, knew he had such a pitiful disciple as Zhu Zhangling,

he would make Zhu Zhangling understand what it means for a Buddha to glare in wrath—Buddhas, too, have anger!