Chapter Fifty-Six: News and Intentions

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At night, the bright moon hung high in the sky. Lin Pingzhi, who was staying in his bedroom, gazed suspiciously at a folded piece of white paper before him. It had appeared inexplicably in his room; he had even gone out of his way to inquire and investigate, but found nothing. Yet it was clear that such a piece of paper could not simply appear by chance—someone had deliberately snuck in to place it there.

“No matter, let’s see what it says first.”

Lin Pingzhi reached out and carefully unfolded the paper. Almost at once, a line of black characters came into view:

“The Evil-Repelling Sword Manual is hidden in the old house on Sunlight Alley in Fuzhou.”

At the sight of these words, Lin Pingzhi was stunned.

“Sunlight Alley in Fuzhou...” he murmured, then crumpled the paper into a ball in his hand.

At that very moment, identical slips of white paper bearing the same message appeared on the desks of many influential figures across the martial world.

“The Evil-Repelling Sword Manual in Sunlight Alley, Fuzhou—what a treasure, I must have it.”

“That manual is a peerless martial art; if I can master it, I’ll surely become a force to be reckoned with.”

All who received the message were instantly stirred into action, each coveting the seventy-two techniques of the Evil-Repelling Sword.

Yet a minority remained skeptical. They did not know who had placed the message, nor who had spread the news. True or false, they reasoned, anyone who disseminated a message in such a fashion was no friend; perhaps he wished to pit them against each other, hoping to reap the rewards when all was chaos.

“Hey, have you heard? Descendants of the Huashan Sword Sect have gone up the mountain to challenge for the position of sect leader.”

“Sword Sect descendants? Didn’t all of them perish decades ago?”

“Then you’re ill-informed. Back then, the Sword Sect was defeated, but some fled the mountain.”

“Well, this should be interesting. I wonder who’s stronger now—Yue Buqun of Huashan, or those Sword Sect survivors?”

In the tavern, martial artists sat drinking, chatting in hushed tones—just loud enough for those nearby to catch their words.

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Their conversation drifted to the ears of a young man in white, seated not far away. This youth was none other than Yang Wenhao, who had recently left Mount Hua.

Yang Wenhao had not expected that so soon after his departure, the Sword Sect descendants would return. Still, the outcome was beyond doubt; Yue Buqun’s strength was more than enough to crush their opposition.

As Yang Wenhao sipped his wine, a figure suddenly took a seat before him.

“Drinking alone is far too dull.”

Hearing this, Yang Wenhao looked up, then smiled faintly. “Well, someone’s here now.”

“Where have you been these days?” The newcomer, completely at ease, poured herself a drink.

“Just left Mount Hua. Why, did you come looking for me?”

They clinked cups and each downed a drink.

The person sitting opposite Yang Wenhao was none other than Dong Bofang, his former drinking companion. But to call this person Dong Bofang was misleading; it would be more accurate to say she was Dongfang Bubai, the current leader of the Sun and Moon Sect.

Dongfang Bubai wore a gray robe, her hair tied up, dressed in the guise of a man.

She said, “That little Master Yilin you used to travel with wishes to see you. Why not come with me to meet her?”

“Yilin?” Yang Wenhao was taken aback, then asked, “Isn’t she from the Mount Heng Sect? How do you know her?”

“She’s acquainted with me,” Dongfang Bubai paused, then continued, “Will you see her or not?”

“And if I refuse?” Yang Wenhao set down his cup, gazing calmly at Dongfang Bubai.

“Whether you see her or not, I’ll drag you there if I must,” Dongfang Bubai replied, her words resolute—she was not one to go back on her promises.

“Then let me ask you: is it truly her wish to see me, or are you acting on your own?” Yang Wenhao said. “If she genuinely wants to meet, I’ll go with you. If not...”

Yilin was someone Yang Wenhao had only encountered by happenstance; who would have thought that such a sheltered novice nun would develop feelings for a man as ruthless as he? In his eyes, someone as innocent as Yilin could not possibly understand love; she merely enjoyed his company and mistook that for affection—a mistaken notion.

Dongfang Bubai hesitated, for Yang Wenhao spoke the truth. It was not Yilin’s wish to meet him, but Dongfang’s own decision.

She asked, “Where do you plan to go next?”

“I’m not sure, but I’d like to visit Shaolin,” Yang Wenhao replied.

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“What business do you have at Shaolin?” Dongfang Bubai asked, puzzled.

“I’ve long heard that Shaolin’s Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic is a marvel,” Yang Wenhao replied. “How could such a technique not tempt the heart?”

Dongfang Bubai said, “You do realize the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic is Shaolin’s most prized scripture. It’s not something you can just take as you please.”

“Whether they give it or not is their concern; whether I want it or not is mine. If I desire it, I’ll obtain it,” Yang Wenhao said, setting down his cup.

Dongfang Bubai laughed aloud. “Well said—so domineering! I like it. I’ll go with you.”

Had Yang Wenhao not known Dongfang Bubai’s true gender, he would surely have retorted, “I’m not interested in men.” But now, knowing her identity, he merely smiled and said nothing.

Shaolin Temple was the foremost orthodox sect of the martial world, yet throughout decades of struggle, it had always maintained neutrality. Whenever the Sun and Moon Sect launched large-scale attacks, it was the Five Mountain Sword Sects that stood in the way. Only one other orthodox sect—the Wudang Sect—shared Shaolin’s stance, remaining neutral throughout the conflicts.

If one were to ask which force in the martial world was strongest, it would undoubtedly be Shaolin Temple. With a legacy stretching back centuries, Shaolin was beyond the reach of the declining Five Mountain Sword Sects.

In truth, Yang Wenhao had little certainty about his plan to acquire the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic from Shaolin. He did not know the true strength of the temple; throughout the story, Shaolin’s interventions were rare and always decisive, resolving issues that seemed impossible to others.

Moreover, Shaolin possessed not only the Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic, but also many other Buddhist martial arts—such as the Diamond Sutra and the Demon-Subduing Fist.

From the outset, Yang Wenhao had his sights set on these major powers. The Five Mountain Sword Sects, in his eyes, were nothing but worthless rabble. He intended to thoroughly plunder the greatest treasures of the martial world, believing that if he could obtain all the techniques within Shaolin, he would surely break through to the sixth level of Qi Refining.

In the path of immortality, without Foundation Establishment, one remains mortal—he was determined to lay his foundation first.

After sharing drinks and laughter with Dongfang Bubai, their relationship took on a subtle complexity.

(End of chapter)