Chapter 89

Zhang Jie sighed at the harshness of the martial world, his mind split between thought and answer:

“It is said that if you strike the Heaven-Defying Sword against the Dragon-Slaying Blade, the secret manual will be revealed.”

“Let me help you then,” Zhou Zhiruo volunteered eagerly.

“Good.”

With such a lovely lady offering aid, Zhang Jie naturally did not refuse.

“Zhiruo, take the sword.”

Zhang Jie handed the Heaven-Defying Sword to Zhou Zhiruo.

Hmm, such a delicate beauty as Zhou Zhiruo hardly suits the Dragon-Slaying Blade!

After giving Zhou Zhiruo the Heaven-Defying Sword, Zhang Jie also pulled up the Dragon-Slaying Blade he had stuck into the ground moments before.

“Sister Zhiruo, go ahead.”

Zhang Jie raised the Dragon-Slaying Blade, encouraging the slightly nervous Zhou Zhiruo.

Gathering her courage, Zhou Zhiruo poured her internal energy into the Heaven-Defying Sword and swung it hard.

“Clang!”

The Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade clashed violently in midair, sparks flying everywhere.

“Huh? Why didn’t anything change?”

Zhou Zhiruo frowned in confusion.

“Maybe we need more strikes?”

Zhang Jie shrugged offhandedly: “Let’s keep going.”

Clang clang~

One strike, two strikes, three strikes—the Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade remained unharmed!

At this, Mistress Mei Jing could no longer watch silently and reminded them:

“Zhiruo, your internal energy is insufficient—you haven’t reached the threshold needed to trigger the transformation of the Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade.”

“Zhang Jie brother, didn’t you already know this? Why didn’t you tell me!”

Zhou Zhiruo glared at Zhang Jie, her cheeks puffed with indignation, having guessed the truth.

“Haha, I only figured it out thanks to Mistress Mei’s reminder.”

Knowing he couldn’t reveal the truth, Zhang Jie laughed it off.

He had already anticipated this:

The Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade were two legendary weapons spoken of in the same breath by martial artists.

They must have clashed before—if a mere touch could break them, the secret of the Martial Marshal’s Manual would have been exposed long ago.

Clearly, Guo Jing and the others had considered this when forging the sword and blade.

Only the internal energy of at least a top-tier expert could reach the threshold to shatter them.

Though Zhou Zhiruo was gifted, regarded by Mistress Mei as her final disciple and meticulously trained,

she had only trained for a few years—her internal energy was still far from reaching top-tier levels.

“Hmph! I’m not talking to you anymore!”

Feeling humiliated, Zhou Zhiruo stomped her foot and turned her head away, refusing to look at Zhang Jie.

Yet her large, sparkling eyes kept stealing glances at him.

Understanding that Zhou Zhiruo was merely being prideful, Zhang Jie stepped beside her:

“Alright, alright, it’s all my fault—I sincerely apologize here, Lady Zhiruo, please forgive me!”

“Fine, I’ll forgive you this time.”

Upon receiving the apology, Zhou Zhiruo’s face instantly brightened, her smile sweet and radiant.

“Zhang Jie brother, am I really that useless?”

Suddenly, Zhou Zhiruo whispered softly, tears welling in her eyes:

Zhang Jie had already defeated her master, yet she couldn’t even properly wield the Heaven-Defying Sword.

“How could that be? In my heart, you’ve always been the best.”

Facing the tearful Zhou Zhiruo, Zhang Jie reached out with gentle arms and pulled her into his embrace.

His experience from Water Margin told him—in moments like this, firm action was needed!

“Cough, cough!”

Mistress Mei Jing feigned a cough, having been force-fed another handful of dog food,

reminding the two that a third person was still present!

And that third person was Zhou Zhiruo’s elder!

“Master.”

Zhou Zhiruo shyly stuck out her tongue but made no move to leave Zhang Jie’s arms.

“Hmph!”

Seeing Zhou Zhiruo utterly devoted to Zhang Jie, Mistress Mei Jing could do nothing but sigh.

She let out a cold huff, venting her inner frustration.

“Need my help?”

The matter was settled; Mistress Mei Jing could only suppress her discontent.

“Let me try first.”

Zhang Jie politely declined Mistress Mei’s offer.

“Zhang Jie brother, here’s the Heaven-Defying Sword.”

Zhou Zhiruo stepped out of Zhang Jie’s arms and handed him the Heaven-Defying Sword.

Zhang Jie stood calmly, one hand holding the Heaven-Defying Sword, the other the Dragon-Slaying Blade.

He narrowed his eyes and began pouring his internal energy into the two legendary weapons.

Under his powerful, harmonious internal energy, the Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade hummed softly,

and under the sunlight, they shimmered with radiant light, their deadly sword qi and blade qi swirling around them.

Clearly, beneath their beautiful appearance lay lethal danger!

“So beautiful!”

Watching the two legendary weapons encircled by rainbow-like radiance,

Zhou Zhiruo’s bright eyes sparkled with wonder.

Her beloved was truly a great hero surrounded by seven-colored auspicious clouds!

Beside them, Mistress Mei Jing stared fixedly at the Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade,

the century-old dream of the Emei Sect resting on this moment—she would not miss a single detail.

After a moment, Zhang Jie’s narrowed eyes suddenly snapped open:

“Now!”

Ssssh!

The Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade, wreathed in sword qi and blade qi, collided.

There was no violent impact or thunderous crash as Zhou Zhiruo had imagined,

only the sharp sound of cloth tearing.

Crack.

Both the Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade snapped cleanly in half.

Zhang Jie flicked his sleeve, his internal energy sweeping through the air, drawing the broken tips into his hand.

“Hmm, not here.”

Zhang Jie glanced at the mirror-smooth blade tip and concluded.

Clang.

He discarded the Dragon-Slaying Blade’s tip as if it were worthless trash.

Picking up the Dragon-Slaying Blade’s hilt, Zhang Jie immediately spotted a hidden compartment.

His fingers pinched it open and pulled out its contents—

and saw dozens of thin, cicada-wing-like sheets of black iron paper!

“Hmm, this does make sense—placing the manual inside the sword and blade.”

Zhang Jie stroked his chin, thinking to himself.

The Heaven-Defying Sword and Dragon-Slaying Blade were forged as one piece, not assembled with mechanical locks,

so storing paper scrolls inside was impossible.

After all, the extreme heat of forging would ignite any ordinary paper in this world.

Only paper made of black iron could survive unharmed.

He peeled back the topmost layer of protective black iron paper,

and four large characters met his eyes: Martial Marshal’s Manual!

Beneath them were countless tiny characters, no larger than ant heads, yet crystal clear.

Among the characters were equally tiny, yet vividly lifelike illustrations.

Zhang Jie flipped through them casually and found the Martial Marshal’s Manual incredibly detailed:

including recruitment, training, marching, encampment, battle formations, and more,

It nearly recorded every method of establishing an army.

It also detailed the manufacture and use of various armors, banners,

and weapons such as knives, spears, swords, and halberds.

Even someone with no prior command experience

could, by following the diagrams, train a crack troop.

“A fine find.”

Zhang Jie nodded in satisfaction.

Though he could not use it yet, the Water Margin Zhang Jie, who harbored designs to overthrow the Song, desperately needed it.

“By the way, using Yue Wumu’s military methods—intended to save the Song—to overthrow the Song,

I wonder what expression Emperor Huizong and Emperor Gaozong would wear if they found out?”

Zhang Jie couldn’t help smiling inwardly.

Yet using the Wu Mu Manuscript to topple the Song would also serve as vengeance for the wrongfully slain Yue Wumu.

Next, Zhang Jie repeated the same procedure, pulling out a stack of black iron paper from the Jian Tian Sword’s blade,

on which were recorded the scriptures of the Nine Yin Manual and the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms.

“Reverend, shall we go find paper and ink to copy the scriptures?”

Zhang Jie asked calmly.

Though he had already memorized the scriptures, he had no intention of handing the originals to Emei,

for who knew if they concealed other secrets?

Even if they held no secrets, these scriptures forged from black iron held great collector’s value.

At worst, he could melt them down and forge new divine weapons. “Then let’s go.”

The impatient Juejue Shitai forgot to calm her Qi and hurried toward Emei’s main hall.

Hmm, Zhou Zhiruo’s sword practice grounds were remote,

and even during Zhang Jie’s clash with Juejue Shitai, no other Emei disciples had been stirred.

After all, Juejue Shitai was so weak—three or four blows ended the fight.

Juejue Shitai’s expression grew darker: Sorry I didn’t let you have your fill…

“Master, let me help you.”

Zhou Zhiruo hurried to Juejue Shitai’s side

and reached out to support the staggering elder.

“This… very well.”

Juejue Shitai had wanted to refuse, unwilling to appear frail before outsiders,

but seeing Zhang Jie’s smile, she realized pretending was pointless.

Juejue Shitai and Zhou Zhiruo walked ahead; Zhang Jie followed behind, carrying the broken blade and shattered sword.

After walking a considerable distance, they arrived at Emei’s solemn and imposing complex.

“Emei Sect is truly a great sect—how lavish.”

Surveying Emei’s vast, palace-like complex, even larger than Mount Wudang, Zhang Jie marveled inwardly.

As soon as they reached the gate, Emei disciples spotted Zhang Jie and the others.

When they saw Juejue Shitai’s still-pale face

and her visibly weakened state, they were stunned:

“Master, what happened to you?”

“Master, did Zhou Zhiruo get into trouble again?”

A disciple dressed in pale green robes, with a pretty face

but thin, sharp eyebrows that gave her a harsh air, glanced at Zhou Zhiruo and asked.

Though her tone was mild, her accusation of Zhou Zhiruo was unmistakable.

“Minjun, this has nothing to do with Zhiruo. I had a mishap in my Qi cultivation.”

Juejue Shitai offered a brief explanation.

“This must be Sister Ding.”

Zhang Jie studied Ding Minjun a moment—Sister Ding was quite beautiful too!

“Yes, Master.”

Though unwilling, Ding Minjun could not defy Juejue Shitai’s words,

so she abandoned the chance to undermine Zhou Zhiruo.

“You may all disperse.”

Juejue Shitai waved her hand.

“Yes, Master.”

Seeing Juejue Shitai was truly unharmed, the other Emei disciples dispersed.

After obtaining ink, brush, paper, and inkstone, Zhang Jie, renowned for his calligraphy, personally transcribed the scriptures,

once again earning many admiring glances from Zhou Zhiruo—though that need not be elaborated.