Chapter 59

“Brother, is my adoptive father alright?”

Zhang Wuji looked at Xie Xun, who was nearly insane, with deep concern.

“Relax, once the Lion King vents a bit, he’ll be fine.”

Zhang Jie replied calmly.

Seeing Zhang Jie’s confidence, Zhang Wuji finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Brother, who exactly is Cheng Kun?”

“Why does he make my adoptive father so furious?”

After all, he was just a teenager, and Zhang Wuji was intensely curious.

“Cheng Kun is your adoptive father’s master. When your adoptive father was ten, he became Cheng Kun’s disciple,”

“Cheng Kun taught him everything he knew; in their early years, their bond was deep,

like father and son.” Zhang Jie explained to Zhang Wuji.

“If they were as close as father and son, how did they become mortal enemies?”

Zhang Wuji, sensing there was a hidden story, pressed further.

“Later, for reasons unknown, Cheng Kun murdered your adoptive father’s entire family.”

“He not only raped his wife, but spared neither his mother nor his young children.”

Zhang Jie continued explaining to Zhang Wuji.

Cheng Kun killed Xie Xun’s family to exact revenge, and Ming Cult intelligence would still be useful to him later—

Zhang Jie didn’t need to reveal all this to Zhang Wuji.

After all, information was wealth, and immense power.

In Infinite Terror, Chu Xuan, the strategist of the Central State team, once said something profoundly true:

For us, the reincarnated and time travelers, our greatest advantage is knowing the plot.

Since Xie Xun and Cheng Kun were already irreconcilable enemies,

probing further into the origin of their hatred was no longer necessary.

Ever since the day Cheng Kun slaughtered Xie Xun’s family, only one of them could remain alive!

“Where is Cheng Kun?”

After venting his rage, Xie Xun’s fury had temporarily subsided,

and he asked in a voice now hoarse and cracked.

“He’s at Shaolin Temple, using the alias Yuan Zhen.”

Zhang Jie answered, knowing Xie Xun had agreed to the deal.

“Shaolin Temple?”

“I should’ve realized it sooner—I should’ve realized it sooner!”

Xie Xun muttered to himself.

Back then, to force Cheng Kun out, he had slaughtered the entire martial world.

Yet from the Ming Cult in Kunlun all the way to the Canal Gang in the east, he found no trace of Cheng Kun.

He should’ve known long ago that Cheng Kun must have hidden within great sects like Wudang or Shaolin.

And among all major sects, none were more of a cesspool—or rather, more riddled with filth—

than Shaolin, which preached “lay down your sword, and instantly attain Buddhahood,”

and “renounce the world, all is emptiness.”

“Young friend, I can give you the Dragon-Slaying Blade, but I ask you to promise me one thing.”

Xie Xun, stroking the Dragon-Slaying Blade, spoke in a low, rasping voice.

It would be best to obtain the Dragon-Slaying Blade through some condition.

He had no special regard for Xie Xun,

but Zhang Wuji was his beloved friend, his brother, his treasure-bearer!

At the same time, he had already guessed what Xie Xun’s request might be.

“Kill Cheng Kun for me!”

Xie Xun gritted out those words through clenched teeth.

Blind in both eyes, he was already a broken man; even with the Dragon-Slaying Blade, he could never seek revenge.

If so, why not use the Dragon-Slaying Blade as leverage,

and have Zhang Jie—already a peerless master at such a young age—act for him?

“Deal!”

Zhang Jie, having guessed Xie Xun’s demand, agreed at once.

He intended to use the Ming Cult’s strength to expel the Yuan dynasty and restore China,

and Yuan Zhen’s head would be his perfect bargaining chip.

Agreeing to Xie Xun’s condition—exchanging Cheng Kun’s life for the Dragon-Slaying Blade—was a win-win!

He, Zhang Jie, won twice over—he was like Qin Shi Huang touching a live wire, utterly victorious.

With revenge now within reach, Xie Xun eagerly said:

“A gentleman’s word!”

Zhang Jie: “Four horses couldn’t drag it back!”

“Here, take the Dragon-Slaying Blade.”

Having made his decision, Xie Xun let go without hesitation and hurled the Dragon-Slaying Blade toward Zhang Jie.

“The Lion King truly has a grand spirit.”

Zhang Jie reached out and seized the blade—it was now in his hands.

Cast from celestial black iron and western refined gold, weighing over a hundred jin,

the Dragon-Slaying Blade felt no heavier in his grip than a straw in an ordinary man’s hand.

Whoosh. Whoosh.

He swung it casually a few times—the blade responded as if it were an extension of his own limbs.

Beside him, Zhang Wuji watched helplessly as a contract for hired murder unfolded before his eyes.

Yet he said nothing.

Though naturally kind-hearted, he knew Cheng Kun was a man his adoptive father must kill.

Between the stranger who had slaughtered his entire family, and the man who had raised him since childhood,

who had loved and cherished him, he chose his adoptive father without hesitation.

“Wuji, go prepare some food. We’ll stay here tonight.”

Seeing Zhang Wuji still stunned, as if his young soul had been shaken,

Zhang Jie, idly playing with the Dragon-Slaying Blade, gave the order.

If Zhang Wuji stayed busy, he wouldn’t dwell on it so much.

“Yes, brother.”

Zhang Wuji, accustomed to obeying orders, instinctively followed Zhang Jie’s command.

“No hidden compartment found.”

After meticulously cleansing the Dragon-Slaying Blade with Beiming Qi, Zhang Jie reached his conclusion.

Zhang Jie had expected this result:

The Dragon-Slaying Blade had been forged a hundred years ago and had passed through many hands.

All its owners were top-tier martial artists, some even serving the Yuan court.

If the hidden compartment could be detected by internal energy alone,

then the secret of the Dragon-Slaying Blade and the Heaven-Defying Sword would not be known only to Guo Xiang,

the daughter of Guo Jing and Huang Rong, and her heir, the Emei Sect’s Abbess Miejue.

Nor would it align with Guo Jing and Huang Rong’s original intent: to gather strength to resist the Yuan.

In fact, according to the information Zhang Jie had obtained, the Dragon-Slaying Blade had remained in Yuan court hands for a long time after its forging.

After all, its reputation—“Command the world, none dare defy”—was far too conspicuous.

As long as the Yuan rulers possessed even a shred of intelligence,

they would have gone to any lengths to collect or destroy the Dragon-Slaying Blade, lest it undermine their rule.

Like in The Langyabang , when the rumor spread that “the Qilin talent, possessed, gains the empire,”

it was abnormal for the emperor and other rulers to remain indifferent.

In the Ming dynasty, on the very next day after the rumor “Qilin talent, possessed, gains the empire” spread,

Mei Changsu would have been gifted a nine-clan elimination package.

After the Yuan court failed to uncover the blade’s secret, they released it back into the martial world

to stir up chaos and weaken the martial sects.

For over a decade, the great martial factions had fought like beasts over the Dragon-Slaying Blade—

the Yuan court had played many dishonorable roles in that conflict.

Yu Daiyan, one of the Wudang Three, was injured by the Western Shaolin under the Ruyang Prince’s command,

Wu Dang’s Three Heroes Yu Taidan was struck down by the Western Shaolin under the Ruyang Prince’s household,

The monk of the Golden Diamond Sect, “A San,” broke his entire skeleton with Great Golden Diamond Finger.

At the time, Shaolin Temple became the primary suspect.

After all, the martial art that injured Yu Dairyan was a Shaolin technique.

However, because Zhang Sanfeng had absolute faith in the character of Shaolin’s disciples,

the case became an unsolved mystery.

Even so, a rift formed between Shaolin and Wudang, making true unity impossible.

It could be said the Yuan court’s plan to divide the major martial sects was executed with great success.

“Looks like I still have to go to Emei and retrieve the Yi Tian Sword.”

Zhang Jie silently thought, unable to find any hidden compartment, unable to determine the location of the manuals and the Military Manual of Yue Fei.

If I directly break the Dragon Slaying Saber and damage the manuals inside, it would be a loss.

After all, manuals are extremely precise.

Sometimes, missing just one character can drastically alter the meaning of a sentence.

What if the manual says “city gate tower” but gets changed to “hip bone axis”? That’d be the end of everything.

In The Legend of the Condor Heroes, Ouyang Feng, a martial arts master, went mad and never recovered

after practicing Huang Rong’s altered version of the Nine Yin Manual.

Zhang Jie had no intention of following Ouyang Feng’s path.

“Father, Elder Brother, dinner’s ready.”

While Zhang Jie was thinking, Zhang Wuji had already quickly prepared dinner.

What passed for dinner was simply roasting the prey Xie Xun had brought back earlier.

“Delicious! Delicious!”

“I never expected you, Wuji, to have such skill in the kitchen.”

Xie Xun, chewing with both hands, grease dripping from his mouth, praised Zhang Wuji’s cooking repeatedly.

“What can Xie Xun even eat?”

“Nothing but roasted skewers with a bit of coarse salt.”

Zhang Jie made the same remark as the Jiangnan Governor Gali in Emperor Yongzheng: “Your Majesty, how pitiful—he can only eat yogurt cakes and spring rolls.”

To be fair, Xie Xun’s life on this island was truly miserable.

He had no access to Sichuan pepper, black pepper, dried ginger, star anise, cloves, bay leaves, cinnamon, or any other seasoning.

Even the coarse salt he ate was left behind by Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu, Zhang Wuji’s parents.

Only because Zhang Cuishan and his wife had left behind a large supply of coarse salt,

otherwise, Xie Xun might not have had even that.

After all, you can’t expect a blind man to harvest salt.

Now, under the assault of the various seasonings Zhang Jie and the others carried,

Xie Xun’s excitement after going more than a decade without tasting meat was unimaginable.

He nearly wanted to swallow the skewer whole!

“Father, eat slowly—I still have more roasting.”

Watching Xie Xun devour his food like a starving beast, Zhang Wuji felt deep sorrow.

He blamed himself bitterly for abandoning his foster father on Ice Fire Island for years.

He was even more grateful to Zhang Jie for chartering the boat to bring him here.

At the same time, he became even more determined to take Xie Xun back to the mainland.

At the same time, he became even more determined to bring Xie Xun back to the mainland.

Xie Xun’s hand froze mid-air, realizing he had lost composure.

Thoughtful Zhang Wuji immediately placed a handful of skewers into his hands.

The considerate Zhang Wuji directly placed a skewer of grilled meat in his hand.

Zhang Jie chuckled quietly to the side.

The dinner ended amid a mixture of mild joy and awkwardness.

At night, Zhang Jie, seated in a corner of the cave, effortlessly entered the shared space.

At night, Zhang Jie sat in meditation in a corner of the cave and entered the shared space with ease.