Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 742 - 46 Cool Night Like Water (1/2) (3000 words)

Chapter 742 -46 Cool Night Like Water (1/2) (3000 words)

Before Wu Qiong had fallen from his realm, he truly was a martial artist who could almost touch the heights of the Heavenly Sect Grandmasters with just a lift of his hand. Among the countless martial artists under heaven, numbering well over a million, only a few could achieve this step. Although he had now dropped to the Fifth Rank, his foundation was still profoundly solid, far beyond what other warriors could aspire to.

This sudden sweep of his sleeve was launched with a surge of overwhelming Qi from his chest at its peak. Its fierceness was secondary to its immensity, almost rivaling the full effort of a Fourth Rank master. The resultant dust storm rolled forward like a long dragon, and broke through the large gates of the inn.

Outside the door, a big man with his chest bare, deeply grounded in his stance, struck with a fist as casually as any common warrior. Yet, it had a uniquely majestic presence. He stood firm against Wu Qiong’s sleeve sweep without taking a single step back. His poorly fitted clothes danced about, rustling loudly.

Taking a deep breath and standing up, he slowly said, “What a powerful surge of righteous Qi, indeed the true teachings of the Confucian Sect have been mastered well. You are rightly the Wu Qiong who once slew a dragon by the river. I admire you, senior.”

While his words expressed admiration, his face seemed unimpressed. Rising to his feet inch by inch, the ground beneath him suddenly cracked, channeling all of that righteous Qi force into the earth, sparing himself from much impact.

And with his robust physique, even if he had absorbed thirty to fifty percent of that righteous Qi force, it would only take a moment of breathing technique for him to recover.

A brawler from Jianghu, born of the trifecta of Taoist, Confucian, and Mo teachings, ultimately differs from martial artists.

This instantly endowed him with an unpredictable master’s demeanor that made the onlookers feel a slight oppression and gloom. Sikou Tingfeng, from the Number One Manor in the World, narrowed his eyes and stated softly:

“Wei Jinping, aged forty-three, born in the frontier city of Doukui.”

“As a youth, he learned the tumbling techniques of the barbarians, then traveled in the Central Plains for several years, acquiring a martial arts scripture that cultivates both internal and external skills and a fist technique. Integrating these with his initial tumbling methods, he refined the nuances and created the Seventeen Dispersed Hands Technique. Through this, he managed to contain his Qi Mechanism and stepped into the Fifth Rank.”

“Three years ago, he joined the Xiahou Family as a top-ranked Guest Elder.”

Lin Qiaofu glanced at the big man and added softly:

“What he learned must be the Earth-Dragon Method of the Western Shu strongman from thirty years ago. It appears to be just brute physical cultivation on the surface, incredibly strong, but in fact, his most powerful aspect is his enduring True Qi, hardly lesser than the Taoist Sect’s Golden Lotus lifespan technique.”

Wei Jinping came with a lofty spirit, relying on his young master’s reputation to gain time to handle Jianghu affairs without interference from the city officials, not expecting to be thoroughly exposed before even making a move, almost choking a mouthful of blood in frustration.

The expression on his usually slack face suddenly changed like a confused dye shop, fluctuating unpredictably.

In a confrontation between martial artists, revealing one’s own special techniques inherently diminishes their momentum and chances of winning. A seed of retreat forms in the heart, yet this was his first major assignment since joining the Xiahou Family.

If he wanted to proceed with the plan and possibly gain an opportunity to access the Divine Weapons of the Xiahou Family, he had to infiltrate the inner circle and earn trust. It was not a matter of simply accompanying the Second Young Master to grab some charming ladies, or finding which spoiled noble was unlucky.

Thinking of the Hall Master’s establishment in Jiangnan and the unrolled plans stretching across thousands of miles of rivers.

Wei Jinping gritted his teeth and suddenly laughed loudly:

“It seems besides old master Wu Qiong, there really are hidden dragons and crouching tigers here. Having such two beautiful and knowledgeable ladies is quite something. Normally, having my background so thoroughly revealed should make me retreat, but martial skills must be compared by hands.”

“Wei Jinping, pleased to meet you!”

As he spoke, he stretched out his arms, hanging them low as if he was a wild and fierce bear loosening up his limbs. He walked toward them step by step, each one sinking deep into the ground, his Qi Mechanism rising and plugging the doorway as though it sealed off that patch of heaven and earth, making it hard to breathe.

The Fifth Rank Realm he possessed was genuine, without any admixture, climbed step by step, each one virtually crushing down on his cultivation, desperate to linger longer in each realm and make his foundation firmer and still firmer, starkly different from the renowned swordsmen Wang Anfeng had faced before.

Wang Anfeng’s expression had subtly changed as he whispered:

“Is it really… a person from the Xiahou Family?”

Xue Qinshuang’s face lacked its usual light smile as she replied sharply:

“Indeed.”

Meanwhile, Wu Qiong, after muttering about Xiahou, became suddenly enraged and exclaimed, “The Xiahou Family?! Could it be Xiahou Xuan again?! Previously, Lan girl already clearly rejected him, could he be intending to use force to rob us in this chaos?!”

“Gentlemen do not speak ill when they cut off relations, yet the Xiahou Family, a noble clan famous in Jianghu, dares to engage in such vile deeds!”

Wei Jinping had already approached the old man within ten paces, heard these words, and laughed aloud, saying,

“If it weren’t for the scheme of Young Lord Xiahou Xuan, who is known in Jiangnan Road’s Jianghu as the ‘Ghost Strategist,’ how could we have trapped our prey so perfectly?”

“One-Leaf Pavilion is in turmoil, and its current master has only this daughter — a fine opportunity to strike while the iron is hot. If one were a gentleman, one would only suffer losses, never reaping such great benefits.”

After speaking, he quickly stepped forward twice, giving Wu Qiong no chance to harness the qi from heaven and earth, and lifted his fists like beating war drums, smashing them toward the white-haired scholar. The force was towering and robust, stirring the surrounding tables and chairs into chaos, forcing the other warriors to stagger back uncontrollably.

Although Wu Qiong was of a higher realm, the air of a scholar was more prevalent than that of Jianghu about him. In a moment, unable to summon the righteousness of heaven and earth, he could only counter Wei Jinping’s powerful blows with his own bodily strength and inner strength.

Yet he was aged and had not yet recovered from old injuries, and being originally from the Confucian Sect, how could he withstand the direct confrontations against an experienced warrior like Wei Jinping? Soon enough, his complexion turned slightly red; he barely managed to maintain a balance, neither retreating nor falling but clearly could not hold out much longer.

Wang Anfeng frowned, about to intervene, when Sikou Tingfeng, having just finished his tea, stood up and stepped forward. His sleeve lightly brushed past, tinted by the golden-red candle light, softening for a moment before suddenly bursting forth with intense sharpness.

The woman’s wrist embellished with a Mo Family’s mechanical device shifted — each section cracked and elongated, transforming into a purple mechanical whip lock that, like a giant python among bushes, after several exchanges, made Wei Jinping, who had been imposing moments before, retreat repeatedly. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tangled up his wrist.

A crisp snap was heard, and his expression changed dramatically in an instant. His back muscles quivered like those of a constricting python, and vigorous qi oscillated along his arms with sounds of wind and thunder, forcibly tearing the whip lock away. He then burst backward violently — his arm, as tough as forged steel, was lacerated with blood trails by the fierce qi, the deepest cut nearly exposing bone. freewёbnoνel.com

Though Sikou Tingfeng was often at a disadvantage when dealing with Xue Qinshuang, the grandmasters of The Number One Manor in the World saw potential in him, believing he would certainly carve out a place for himself in Jianghu within ten years. With just one exchange, he had dealt a significant blow to the burly man who had made a name for himself in Jianghu, causing blood to flow unceasingly.

With a flick of her wrist, the deep purple whip lock, like a python, coiled and undulated beside her. Without turning, she said softly,

“I am from The Number One Manor.”

In his youth, Manor Master Jiang Yang of One-Leaf Pavilion once received guidance from the master of The Number One Manor. Even though he had made a name for himself in Jianghu afterwards, he still held half a disciple’s respect for him, a well-known and honorable mention on Jiangnan Road.

Realization dawned on Wu Qiong, and suddenly, anxiety swelled within him. His scholarly pursuit had honed his principles and keen senses, sharpening them beyond ordinary capabilities. Hearing the disturbance from Jiang Lan’s guest room upstairs, he no longer cared about mundane proprieties due to Sikou Tingfeng’s involvement.

He bowed slightly and leaped up, his sleeves smashing the second-floor flooring to smithereens. His qi mechanism remained intact as he soared upwards, reaching the upper floor in a blink.

Glancing around the room, he saw Jiang Lan already retreating to one corner with a sword, a trace of fresh blood at the corner of his mouth, clearly injured already. Apart from a sinister-looking old man, there were several ghastly-masked warriors holding crossbows in the room.

Wu Qiong recognized these as the hidden guards of the Xiahou family from Jiangnan.

The Xiahou family of Jiangnan Road is renowned for integrating music rhythm into their martial arts, holding a position of great respect among scholars and martial artists alike. These hidden guards are chosen from the side branches of the family with naturally superior physical endowments, raised from a young age with medicinal aids and rigorous training in advanced martial arts, achieving their potential in eighteen years with varying realms, yet their combat skills far surpass their peers.

Apart from those prominent family members, ordinary people could not employ them, which further confirmed for Wu Qiong the truth in Wei Jinping’s earlier words. Glancing at Jiang Lan’s disbelieving eyes, Wu Qiong felt his anger rise.

As the girl’s complexion grew paler, and the blood on her lips more vivid, the old man’s heart ached, sparking fury in him. Without waiting for the sinister old man to start speaking or caring about the rules of Jianghu, he stepped forward and launched a fierce strike, his qi mechanism thundering through the air.

The sinister old man cursed internally at the disregard for Jianghu rules and instinctively crossed his arms in defense, but still, he could not withstand the grandeur of the assault. Being physically inferior to Wei Jinping, he nearly coughed up blood after withstanding the scholar’s forceful blow.

Cursing Wei Jinping in his mind, he used the opportunity to retreat, ramming his shoulder against the windowsill to break it, and somersaulted onto the street below, hoping to stabilize the surging blood in his chest.

At this time, thanks to a letter of introduction from the Second Young Master, they had already made arrangements with the local authorities. Although this place was not within Jiangnan Road, the name of the Four Great Noble Clans was still effective; as long as no civilians were injured, local officials would gladly accommodate the Xiahou family, potentially earning a life-saving favor decades later.

Hence, within a mile of the inn, patrolling soldiers had ushered pedestrians into shops to take cover. The streets were deserted, filled with the murderous intent of the martial artists, the sharpness of those domestic animals far surpassing ordinary people, and they had already curled up, shivering, unable to make a sound.

For a moment, only the cold moonlight fell, shining on the freshly washed bluestones, as if wetted by water, spreading a chilling gloom.

Instantly, the murderous intent of the martial artists exploded.

PS: Today’s first update… three thousand characters