Chapter 57: Stubborn Xie Xun

“Father, my parents did not wish us to seek revenge for them.”

“They left word that hatred should end with them.”

Zhang Wuji, tears still streaking his face, soothed the furious Golden Lion King.

“Brother, sister-in-law, it was my fault that you died!”

Xie Xun sank into deep self-reproach.

The atmosphere of sorrow took a long while to ease slightly.

“Father, I didn’t come to the island alone this time.”

“The one who came with me is Brother Zhang Jie of Wudang.”

Zhang Wuji, barely suppressing his inner grief, introduced Zhang Jie to the Golden Lion King.

“What? There are others?”

The Golden Lion King was instantly stunned.

In his perception, the cave contained only himself and Zhang Wuji—no one else!

Precisely because only Zhang Wuji was present, he had lowered his guard so easily just now.

Xie Xun instantly seized the Dragon-Slaying Blade stuck in the ground and regained his vigilance.

He knew all too well how mad the martial world was for the Dragon-Slaying Blade!

Just consider the news Zhang Wuji had just told him:

Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu did not die because of him, Xie Xun,

but because of others’ greed for the Dragon-Slaying Blade!

As for his own madness, when he slaughtered countless martial artists?

By the time Zhang Cuishan and his wife returned from Ice-Fire Island to Wudang,

over a decade had passed since his massacre of the martial world.

To speak bluntly, for those greedy bastards, the desire to avenge their kin or disciples

was likely less than one-tenth of their greed for the Dragon-Slaying Blade!

The vigilant Xie Xun slightly turned his head, trying to use his acute hearing to locate Zhang Jie.

But no matter how he turned, he could not find Zhang Jie’s position.

He heard not even the faintest breath—as if the newcomer had reached the legendary state of fetal breathing,

where one breathes through eighty-four thousand pores of the skin!

“A master. A great master!”

Xie Xun grew even more wary.

Such a great master traveling ten thousand miles to Ice-Fire Island could have no other motive than to seize the Dragon-Slaying Blade.

“Brother.”

Seeing Xie Xun tense and ready to strike, Zhang Wuji turned to the calm and composed Zhang Jie.

Having spent time with him, Zhang Wuji knew his brother—seemingly a celestial descending to earth—

was inwardly full of mischief.

If he stayed silent, Zhang Jie’s mischief would likely leave his father alone all night.

Zhang Jie shrugged; he had indeed intended to give Xie Xun a warning.

After all, the Golden Lion King was so defiant.

But now that Zhang Wuji had spoken, Zhang Jie abandoned the idea.

Zhang Wuji was his beloved friend, his brother in spirit!

Before, this gift-bringer had given him the Nine Yang Divine Art, the Medical Scripture, and the Poison Scripture.

The Medical Scripture was written by the Butterfly Valley’s Divine Physician Hu Qingniu,

nearly encompassing all methods to cure the most perplexing ailments of the Yitian world.

The Poison Scripture was written by Hu Qingniu’s wife, Wang Nangu,

detailing the identification, preparation, and antidotes of countless poisons.

These two scriptures had greatly aided Zhang Jie, for medicine and martial arts had always been inseparable.

“Golden Lion King, I am Zhang Jie of Wudang, at your service.”

Zhang Jie politely introduced himself to the Golden Lion King.

“Wudang is truly blessed with talent and virtue, producing outstanding figures generation after generation!”

Only when Zhang Jie spoke did the Golden Lion King finally locate his position—he marveled aloud.

Wudang’s elder generation had Zhang Sanfeng, that fearsome old Daoist.

The middle generation boasted the Seven Heroes of Wudang, all top-tier martial artists.

The younger generation now had Zhang Jie, this prodigy whose depth he could not fathom.

Wudang’s rise was unstoppable; its future boundless!

“You flatter me, Golden Lion King.”

Zhang Jie shook his head slightly at the praise.

Compared to the Seven Heroes of Wudang—all top-tier martial artists—had he not appeared,

Wudang’s third generation would have had only Song Qingshu and Zhang Wuji to carry its weight.

But Song Qingshu was, at heart, a sycophant and traitor, and he brought about his own ruin.

Zhang Wuji, due to Song Qingshu and others, never felt deep loyalty to Wudang; in the end, he retreated with Zhao Min to Ice-Fire Island.

Had he not been reborn into the Yitian world and rescued by Yu Lianzhou, Wudang’s third generation would have been utterly dismal.

Not to mention comparing it to Zhang Sanfeng, who could nearly stand alone against the entire martial world,

whom the Shaolin Abbot had said: “Zhang Zhenren, even if your Qi were exhausted, you might still kill all of us from the Six Major Sects.”

In truth, Wudang perfectly followed the historical pattern of any power—or even a dynasty:

The first generation possessed talent, fortune, and ideals, and through hardship built the sect.

The second generation, raised under the first’s influence, understood the trials of founding and preserving,

handled affairs fairly, and brought the sect to its zenith through their efforts.

But the third generation, born with golden spoons in their mouths,

took their status and resources for granted,

no longer cherished them, and began indulging and issuing orders at will.

Without a divine intervention, any power must decline.

“Young man, what brings you to this old man?”

Unaware of Zhang Jie’s inner thoughts, the Golden Lion King asked directly.

“I have come solely for the Dragon-Slaying Blade.

You, Golden Lion King, are known for your nobility; surely you won’t let me leave empty-handed.”

Zhang Jie smiled, speaking in the manner of Chu Liuxiang—called “General of Thieves,” “Gentleman of Rogues”—a phrase admired in the martial world.

“You foolish boy, deluding yourself!”

Not understanding Zhang Jie’s phrasing, the Golden Lion King flatly refused.

“Father, Brother Jie didn’t come for the Dragon-Slaying Blade itself,

but for what’s hidden inside it. Legend says Lady Guo Jing and her husband…”

Zhang Wuji hurriedly explained to Xie Xun.

Since he had brought Zhang Jie to Ice-Fire Island, he had naturally asked Zhang Jie’s views on the blade.

And the ever-honest Zhang Jie had told him how Guo Jing and Huang Rong had fused the Black Iron Heavy Sword, obtained by Yang Guo from the tomb of Du Gu Qiuai,

along with the Nine Yin Scripture, the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, and Yue Fei’s military treatise, the Wu Mu Legacy,

into the hidden layers of the re-forged Yi Tian Blade and the Dragon-Slaying Blade.

“What is the Wu Mu Legacy? What hidden layer?”

I suspect this boy is just lying to deceive you!

Wuji, you’re still too naive.”

The Golden Lion King clearly didn’t believe this tale.

His reasoning wasn’t without merit: he had possessed the Dragon-Slaying Blade for over a decade,

and knew every inch, every groove of it intimately—

yet he had never found any hidden layer.

“Brother.”

Knowing he couldn’t convince his father, Zhang Wuji looked helplessly at Zhang Jie.

As he knew, Zhang Jie’s rhetorical skill was extraordinary:

He had effortlessly brought the entire Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa under his command.

But he never found any hidden compartment.

“Senior brother.”

Knowing he could not convince his adoptive father, Zhang Wuji turned to Zhang Jie for help.

As far as he knew, Zhang Jie’s speaking skills were extremely refined:

Zhu Wu’s Linked Mountain Villa had all its people easily brought under Zhang Jie’s command.

Even the travel expenses for this trip to Ice and Fire Island were taken from the Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa.

As for the boat they rode, the boat captain and his crew had worked diligently these past days without a single complaint.

All of this was clearly due to Zhang Jie’s formidable personal charisma and persuasive speech.

Zhang Jie: I’m skilled at convincing others with reason~

“I…”

“Youngster, leave Ice and Fire Island at once—I don’t want to see you again!”

“And don’t you dare harbor any selfish desires for the Dragon-Slaying Blade!”

Before Zhang Jie could speak, the Golden-Haired Lion King had already impatiently ordered him to leave.

Hearing this, Zhang Jie’s expression turned cold.

Could it be that his earlier kindness had made Xie Xun think Zhang Jie was weak and easy to bully?

The scattered soldiers, Yuan troops,

bandits, and the Zhu and Wu families of the Zhu Wu Linked Mountain Villa all have words to say!

Zhang Jie walked slowly toward Xie Xun.

“Senior brother!”

Seeing Zhang Jie’s movement, Zhang Wuji grew anxious.

His senior brother was no kind-hearted man—least of all, Zhu Zhangling had died a terrible death.

And judging by the strength Zhang Jie had shown over this period,

his sworn father had no chance against him.

“Relax—I won’t harm your sworn father.”

Zhang Jie gave Zhang Wuji a reassuring glance.

“Bold youngster!”

Seeing Zhang Jie’s utter disregard for him, the Golden-Haired Lion King’s fury burned hotter.

He, the Golden-Haired Lion King, had once been a peerless master who roamed the land unchallenged.

Even if Zhang Jie’s methods baffled him, he still had faith in himself.

Whether he could win or not—only battle would tell!

He raised his blade and brought down a mighty “Splitting the Mountain” strike toward Zhang Jie.

But since Zhang Jie was his Wuji’s senior brother, he held back his full strength.

If Zhang Jie couldn’t withstand it, he could retract the Dragon-Slaying Blade,

avoiding killing Zhang Jie and making things difficult for him at Mount Wudang.

Of course, his life would be safe—but he’d still suffer a thorough beating.

Even though Zhang Jie had shown astonishing power earlier, Xie Xun felt little reverence.

With the divine blade Dragon-Slaying in hand, even if Zhang Jie himself came,

let alone Zhang Sanfeng—he’d dare spar with him!

“Xie Xun still has some sense.”

Zhang Jie nodded slightly.

If Xie Xun had truly dared to kill him, he wouldn’t have held back either.

Just like Ying Ge (Yan Shuangying), who killed every man who fired at him,

Zhang Jie would eliminate anyone who harbored murderous intent and dared to strike.

Facing the Dragon-Slaying Blade hurtling toward him with a howling wind,

Zhang Jie extended his right hand—smooth as the finest lamb’s-fat jade, warm and lustrous, glowing faintly,

not a single pore visible—and caught the blade in his palm.

“Impossible! Impossible!”

Xie Xun roared in disbelief, realizing the Dragon-Slaying Blade had been caught.

Even without his full strength, the blade’s edge could slice through iron like mud.

No one in this world had ever caught the Dragon-Slaying Blade with bare hands.

Not even Zhang Sanfeng, the invincible master of Mount Wudang for six decades,

the man many suspected had become a terrestrial immortal, could have done it!