Chapter 52: Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud (Bonus Chapter for 2000-coin Tip)

Yu Liancheng said, "You want to cane me?"

"Indeed." He Zhizhang nodded. "Not only will I cane you, I will also sentence you to thirty years of hard labor. Whatever I tell you to do, you must do."

"Ha, you have sentenced me to three great crimes, so I shall sentence you to three as well. You are clearly a muddled drunkard, yet you pretend to be a Wine Immortal; this is the first great crime. Instigating servants to intentionally harm others is the second great crime."

Yu Liancheng's expression turned stern. "Actually, these two crimes are nothing, but you dared to be disrespectful to me and offended this seat; this is your third great crime. And for this crime, there is no pardon."

"How bold! A mere commoner, yet you dare to be disrespectful to this official! You deserve to die! You truly deserve to die!"

He Zhizhang slapped the table, and his entire body drifted up. He seemed truly drunk, as if he might fall at any moment, yet he was incredibly fast—bizarrely fast.

His right hand had already reached out, his index finger, middle finger, and thumb held in a void grip, as if holding a wine cup, or perhaps as if about to grip someone's throat; the offensive move hovered between reality and illusion, mysterious and unpredictable.

This move of his was the once-famous "Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud." It was like being drunk yet not, like a dream yet not, with bizarre changes and a guaranteed kill in one strike.

"You want to drink? Fine, I will give you some."

Yu Liancheng flicked his wrist, and the wine cup in his hand shot out instantly, flying toward He Zhizhang like a cold stone star, a surging aura erupting from it. It was as if he had not thrown a wine cup, but a massive rock.

He Zhizhang's expression changed slightly, but he did not retreat or dodge. He extended his right arm and fiercely grabbed the wine cup.

Yet, a vigorous and violent burst of energy erupted from the wine cup, making his arm tremble. He could not help but fall from the air, retreating several steps before he could neutralize this terrifying energy.

The wine cup had been crushed by him without him even realizing it, and the wine flowed down his palm.

Yu Liancheng shook his head and said, "And you call yourself a Wine Immortal, yet you cannot even catch a single wine cup."

"Good, good, good. You actually dare to openly resist arrest." He Zhizhang picked up a wine flagon and took a gulp, his drunken eyes becoming even more blurred. Then, his palms exerted force, pushing heavily against the cluttered table, flipping it over to smash down on Yu Liancheng's head.

Yu Liancheng sneered, his body spinning in mid-air. He kicked out with his right foot, smashing the table into two halves like a heavy hammer. Wine and food splattered everywhere, covering the floor.

The moment the table shattered, He Zhizhang's sleeves billowed, filled with internal energy. He stumbled toward Yu Liancheng as if drunk, his hands striking out in a continuous series. The moves looked ordinary, yet they contained nearly thirty variations, each one elusive and each one harboring a lethal killing intent.

"Amitabha, why must you fight when things could be discussed properly? This matter has nothing to do with this monk. You two should close the door and fight slowly."

Laoshi Heshang circled his arms, hugging his table, and flew out the door with both himself and the table. "This monk is usually quite poor; it's not easy to finally have a good meal, so it cannot be ruined by you two."

On the other side, Yu Liancheng neutralized He Zhizhang's offensive and couldn't help but praise, "The 'Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud,' only those who truly drink can inherit its essence; it is indeed a remarkable supreme art."

He Zhizhang let out a drunken hiccup. "Good, very good. Regardless, you at least have some discernment."

Yu Liancheng shook his head. "Not good, not good at all."

He Zhizhang asked in confusion, "Why is it not good?"

Yu Liancheng said, "You use it poorly; the killing intent in your moves is too heavy. In the 'Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud,' you have only grasped the meaning of 'killing.' The ethereal, free-spirited, and unconstrained nature of the 'Drunken Cloud' remains only on the surface."

He Zhizhang's face darkened. "Very well. This Minister originally cherished talent and held back at every turn. Since that is the case, I must show you something serious."

He stumbled out again. Whether in his moves or his footwork, he looked like a drunkard who knew no martial arts, throwing a punch here and a kick there, making it completely impossible for anyone to fathom.

But Yu Liancheng saw through it perfectly. Not only did he see through it, but he was able to dodge by a hair's breadth every single time.

After twenty or so moves, cold sweat appeared on He Zhizhang's forehead. Because, just like the eight burly men before, no matter how he attacked, he hadn't even touched Yu Liancheng's sleeve.

Yet, Yu Liancheng had not even launched a single attack.

"Good, I have seen your 'Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud.' Now, it is time for you to see my 'Yuluo Light Smoke Palm'."

After another ten moves, Yu Liancheng gave a soft shout. His arms suddenly moved, and a pair of palms glowing with jade light descended like a covering sky. They were like a clear breeze and drifting clouds, ethereal and unpredictable. In reality, they had reached the level of an antelope hanging by its horns—leaving no trace to be found.

Outside the room, Laoshi Heshang finished eating the last piece of Pot-sticker Tofu, showing a satisfied expression.

Just then, a muffled sound came from inside the room, and the entire building seemed to tremble.

A figure tumbled out of the window, face pale, the jade crown binding his hair Broken, hair disheveled, looking utterly wretched. Who else could it be but He Zhizhang?

Another figure shot out like black lightning. Just as He Zhizhang stood up, the opponent crashed into his chest like a swallow returning to the woods. He was sent flying sideways, and the sound of bones cracking could be faintly heard.

"I already told you, your 'Seven Killing Hands of the Drunken Cloud' is practiced too poorly; why wouldn't you believe me? What should be drunk is the spirit, not the body. You grasped the 'killing' part well enough, but it is far from being a guaranteed kill in one strike. Such a fine supreme art, and you only unleashed at most forty percent of its power. What a pity, what a pity."

Yu Liancheng slowly paced to He Zhizhang and lifted him up.

He Zhizhang tried to struggle, but Yu Liancheng unleashed a burst of palm energy. His face turned white, his body trembled, blood spilled from the corners of his mouth, and he didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.

"Although you wanted to cane me a hundred times and sentence me to thirty years of hard labor, I don't have the time, nor do I want to take a grown man as a servant."

Yu Liancheng reached out and grabbed a jar of wine, pouring it into He Zhizhang's mouth with a gurgling sound, not stopping until the entire jar was empty. "Zhizhang rides a horse as if on a boat; eyes blurred, he falls into a well to sleep at the bottom. You have drunk so much wine, it is time to rest."

With a 'thud,' he threw He Zhizhang into a dry well.

"Not only will I not punish you, I will let you drink well and sleep well. I am truly a very good person."

This He Zhizhang could not muster any True Qi, and having already suffered heavy injuries from his fight with Yu Liancheng, this fall would likely leave him dazed and confused. If he landed on his head, even if he didn't die, he would likely have a concussion.

Yu Liancheng's thoughts suddenly stirred, and he muttered to himself.

"This fellow seems to have come to test me. I wonder if this counts as passing the test or not."

He looked toward Laoshi Heshang, who immediately gave a start. "Passed, you have definitely passed. Xiao Laotou loves young heroes like you. If you go see him, he will surely be very happy."