Chapter 531

Yet his long-standing trust still led him to believe Zhang Jie.

Zhang Chulan remained silent, watching it all.

He knew these were internal “conflicts” between Zhang Jie and Xu San, none of his business as an outsider.

“Even within the yiren world, your grandfather’s name is renowned,

causing many yiren to tremble at the mere mention of it. Do you know how he earned such fame?”

Zhang Jie, having seized the initiative in the conversation from Xu San, asked calmly.

“Damn, isn’t this just a riddle-man?”

Listening to Zhang Jie’s cryptic, classic riddle-man speech, Xu San silently grumbled.

Yet years of cultivated composure kept his expression utterly unchanged.

“Riddle-man? That’s clearly my role.”

Zhang Jie smiled without answering.

“Earned it? Jie-ge, if that’s true, my grandfather’s strength must be formidable even in the yiren world.”

Zhang Chulan, the clever one, understood at once.

“Precisely.”

Dealing with a clever person made Zhang Jie, the old riddle-man, feel thoroughly satisfied:

“Your grandfather’s strength, by standard yiren world classifications, rivals the leaders of major sects.”

“My grandfather is really that powerful?”

Zhang Chulan muttered in disbelief.

In his memory, his grandfather Zhang Xilin was just a kind, smiling old man.

Had he not seen him wield the Golden Light Spell himself,

he would have thought him nothing more than an ordinary, elderly gentleman.

Not counting the time he used Black Tiger Peach Heart and Whirlwind Knee to punish his father.

Only after that did he realize where the Zhang family’s tradition of brutal, straightforward teaching—each move precise, each form charged with force—came from…

After disbelief came confusion:

“But if my grandfather is so powerful, why did he hide his identity?”

“It’s not just that the old man is powerful—what matters most is why he is so powerful.

Legend says his extraordinary strength stems from a miraculous cultivation art…”

Zhang Chulan instantly understood, his face darkening:

“An innocent man suffers for possessing something valuable?”

Though phrased as a question, Zhang Chulan’s tone was certain.

In the ordinary world, even a man who gains a little wealth attracts schemers eager to rob him—how much more so in the yiren world, where strength reigns supreme?

To become stronger, many yiren would risk everything.

Even if his grandfather Zhang Xilin was immensely powerful, two fists could not withstand four hands—he could only flee with his son and grandson.

After all, one can only lie in wait for thieves so long—no one can guard against them forever.

No matter how powerful a yiren is, he must eat, drink, and rest.

To never sleep, never eat, never tire, never decay—

Only legendary immortals who have attained the Dao and ascended on clouds could achieve that.

Sleepless and foodless, exposed to wind and dew, unbroken and uncorrupted,

Zhang Jie again felt Zhang Chulan was a promising youth.

“Legend says that Old Master Zhang trained in a cultivation art called Qi Ti Yuanliu, known as ‘The End of Techniques, Qi Ti Yuanliu’…”

Zhang Jie recounted to Zhang Chulan why Zhang Huaiyi had hidden his identity.

In his youth, Zhang Huaiyi was a core heir of the Longhu Mountain Tian Shi Fu,

gifted beyond measure, his strength comparable to the later Grand Master Zhang Zhiwei.

Yet after descending the mountain, he swore brotherhood with disciples of prestigious sects and the so-called “heretical” Quanxing demons, becoming one of the “Thirty-Six Thieves.”

In this oath, they discovered eight supreme arts known as the “Eight Marvelous Techniques.”

Zhang Huaiyi’s discovery was one of them—the Qi Ti Yuanliu, hailed as “The End of Techniques.”

The emergence of these powerful arts shattered the yiren world’s old balance,

triggering a massive upheaval known as the “Jia Shen Rebellion.”

Due to the power of the “Eight Marvelous Techniques” and the collapse of order from the Jia Shen Rebellion,

Zhang Huaiyi, as a central participant and the holder of Qi Ti Yuanliu,

was branded by the entire yiren world as the chief culprit and top wanted fugitive.

Countless factions launched a decades-long manhunt to seize the secrets of Qi Ti Yuanliu.

To survive and protect his son Zhang Yude and grandson Zhang Chulan from this conflict,

Zhang Huaiyi chose to hide his identity, assuming the name Zhang Xilin, concealing himself among the countryside.

He not only concealed his own identity but also taught Zhang Chulan the art of hiding his strength,

avoiding all displays, hoping he might live a peaceful, ordinary life.

In short, Zhang Huaiyi’s concealment was not born of cowardice,

but the wise, reluctant choice of a mighty master facing the world’s enmity,

made to protect his bloodline.

“The End of Techniques, Qi Ti Yuanliu?”

Zhang Chulan savored those eight characters; even without seeing it himself,

he sensed the immense secret—and the colossal danger—within.

Yiren cultivate “techniques”—what kind of technique dares call itself “The End of Techniques”?

Could even the legendary immortals who cultivated the Dao, ascended on clouds, and achieved eternal life match it?

Such a secret would stir the heart of every yiren.

“Boy, as your grandfather’s direct descendant, is Qi Ti Yuanliu within you?”

Though he knew Qi Ti Yuanliu was not with Zhang Chulan,

Zhang Jie asked anyway, to maintain his persona.

Xu San also turned to Zhang Chulan—clearly, he too was deeply intrigued by Qi Ti Yuanliu, the so-called immortal art.

As a company man tasked with maintaining balance, he had refrained from disturbing Zhang Chulan for years,

yet as a yiren with power, to claim he felt no interest in Qi Ti Yuanliu was plainly false.

He did not know if Qi Ti Yuanliu was an immortal art or granted immortality.

But he knew that deep cultivation could truly extend one’s lifespan.

Among the four great yiren families, Wang Ai of the Wang family, Lu Ci of the Lu family, Lu Jin of the Lu family,

and Grand Master Zhang Zhiwei of Longhu Mountain—all were over a hundred years old and still vigorous.

Had Zhang Xilin not been relentlessly hunted and grievously wounded, he too would likely still be alive.

He himself was still young, but his father, Xu Xiang…

And Zhang Zhiwei of Longhu Mountain, both centenarians still hopping around like ancient relics.

I swear to heaven, my grandfather never passed on Qi Ti Yuanliu to me!

I only practice the Golden Light Spell!”

Asked this question, Zhang Chulan broke into a cold sweat, immediately denying it, swearing oaths.

Heaven help him—he couldn’t bear this burden!

He felt that if he admitted it, he wouldn’t walk out of this office alive.

He didn’t know Xu San’s strength, but he understood: if Zhang Jie wanted to strike,

his hundred-plus pounds of flesh would be left here.

He felt that if he admitted it, he wouldn’t walk out of this office today.

Zhang Jie narrowed his eyes, enjoying the mischief, ready to tease Zhang Chulan further.

Behind his glasses, Xu San’s eyes flashed with sharp light.

Clearly, he didn’t believe Zhang Chulan’s words.

As Zhang Xilin’s direct descendant, if not Zhang Chulan, then who else could Qi Ti Yuanliu possibly be passed to?

Could that old man truly intend to take such a divine art to his grave?

Clearly, he didn’t much believe Zhang Chulan’s words.

As Zhang Xilin’s direct descendant, if the Qi Body Source Flow isn’t passed to Zhang Chulan, then who else could it be passed to?

Could it be that the old man truly intends to take the divine art of Qi Body Source Flow into his grave?