Taking a Disciple

Wang Ming left Peach Blossom Island in the East Sea and planned to head to Dali, hoping to obtain the "One Yang Finger."

On the way, he found an inn at random, ate a meal, rested a bit, and continued his journey.

He ate leisurely, sipped some wine, and entertained himself by listening to the chatter of the patrons in the tavern.

Novels don't lie—taverns really are the best places to gather information.

Thinking about it, it wasn't strange. People meeting with friends were in a good mood, their trust in their companions naturally high, and with a little alcohol to loosen their tongues, they'd start venting about their troubles or bragging about their experiences, unwittingly letting slip things they normally shouldn't.

Of course, this required a certain foundation in inner energy; otherwise, gathering intel in a tavern was pure nonsense.

Think about it—someone whispering two meters away in a noisy tavern, and you expect to hear clearly what you want? Sometimes people spoke loudly, but it was usually useless chatter.

Wang Ming was thoroughly enjoying eavesdropping on a nearby table where a drinker was boasting to his friend about how he seduced the wives and daughters of wealthy families, the gold and silver he'd gotten from them, and generously sharing his techniques. His words dripped with the idea of sharing the spoils.

Wang Ming listened with great interest, his eyes opened wide. He hadn't expected the ancients to have such tricks up their sleeves. He planned to find those two after leaving the tavern and "borrow" some silver from them.

"BANG!!!!!"

Suddenly, a series of crashing sounds—tables, chairs, bowls, and chopsticks—rang out, mixed with the pained cries and groans of men.

Seeing this, Wang Ming stopped eating and turned his attention to the commotion.

Standing in the middle of the scene was a young, beautiful woman holding a long sword, her brows sharp with killing intent. Her looks were on par with Huang Rong's, though their temperaments differed, each with their own charm.

Huang Rong's temperament was lively and spirited, while this woman exuded a cold, harsh aura, but it didn't diminish her beauty.

"Shameless lecher, a heartless man who preys on innocent women!" the woman cursed.

Wang Ming realized the ones being beaten were the very two gentlemen who'd been bragging about seducing wealthy wives and daughters, planning to live off women.

The woman had overheard their conversation and taken action directly.

The two men, still clueless about what was happening, got a beating. They knew when to yield, so without any dignity, they knelt and begged for mercy, figuring they'd deal with the situation first.

Wang Ming thought that might be the end of it. After all, though he'd spilled blood before, he didn't usually kill lightly.

Initially, he'd planned to find a quiet spot, teach them a lesson, maybe cripple them and disfigure their faces, so they couldn't trick naive women anymore.

But he hadn't expected the young woman to be so decisive—she thrust her sword into one man's chest, killing him on the spot.

Still unsatisfied, she was about to give the other the same treatment when a group of people rushed out from a distance.

"Spare him under the sword!"

The woman glanced at them but wasn't swayed by their arrival. She still ran the other man through, sending him to join his companion.

"Wicked woman, how dare you! You have the nerve to kill in front of us Beggar's Sect members!"

Enraged by her actions, seven or eight Beggar's Sect disciples surrounded the woman and attacked with their Dog Beating Staves. Their coordination was impressive, forming a staff formation that sealed off her escape. The woman was in a perilous position, dodging left and right, but each attempt was blocked.

Wang Ming counted the cloth bags on their robes—two of them were even six-bag elders of the Beggar's Sect, skilled enough to be considered experts in the martial world, roughly on par with Ke Zhen'e.

Everyone thought the woman would be captured.

But in an instant, the tide turned. The woman suddenly changed her sword technique, becoming fierce and extraordinary. Her movements were elegant and otherworldly, her posture graceful as she floated forward like a celestial being.

Three ordinary disciples fell injured within a few exchanges, unable to fight for a while.

The staff formation, missing those three, showed a flaw. The woman easily broke through it, and the two eight-bag elders were also wounded and on the ground.

"The Beggar's Sect has a big name, but their martial arts aren't much! How dare you meddle in your auntie's business? Be smarter in your next life."

This woman always acted to root out trouble, leaving no future threats. Since these people had made enemies of her today, she wouldn't let them off. She raised her sword to kill them.

Suddenly, a middle-aged stranger appeared, standing between the woman and the fallen Beggar's Sect disciples.

The woman exchanged a palm strike with the man and was sent staggering back seven or eight steps. If not for the tavern wall behind her stopping the force, she'd have had to retreat further before stopping.

She immediately knew she was no match for this man. Suppressing the surging Blood Qi in her body, she asked:

"Who are you, sir? Have I offended you in some way?"

"No, but I have ties with Chief Hong, and I'd hate to see his disciples die before my eyes."

"Since these people have ties with you, senior, let this matter end here. I'll take my leave."

The woman had been in the martial world long enough to know that might makes right. She didn't want to say more, only to escape quickly.

"Wait. What's your name, and who is your master?" Wang Ming suddenly asked.

Wang Ming was genuinely curious. In the Eagle Shooting Heroes World, how could there be such a skilled woman, stronger than even Guo Jing and Ouyang Ke?

"My name is Li Mochou. I have no master."

Li Mochou had broken the Ancient Tomb Sect's rules to meet Lu Zhanyuan and was expelled from the sect. So she didn't want to name her master now. Besides, she knew her sect rarely left the ancient tomb and had no fame in the martial world—naming it would be useless.

Wang Ming understood. He'd forgotten about her. The true First Under Heaven of this era naturally taught exceptional disciples.

He thought to himself: "I recall from the original story that Li Mochou was initially a gentle, lovely woman, but turned ruthless and extreme after being hurt by love. Was she already ruined by Lu Zhanyuan this early?"

He looked Li Mochou up and down.

Li Mochou's talent was actually excellent, surpassing even Guo Jing and Huang Rong. Little Dragon Girl and Yang Guo couldn't quite match her either.

She hadn't received the true martial arts inheritance of the Ancient Tomb Sect, nor did she have the fortune of Guo Jing or Yang Guo to obtain the "Nine Yin Manual" and such techniques, yet in the later period, she was no weaker than Huang Rong.

She even created her own martial art, the "Three Noes and Three Unhands," and transformed the "Jade Maiden Swordplay" into a whisk technique whose power surpassed the original swordplay.

Li Mochou noticed Wang Ming wasn't speaking, just studying her with a strange look—one that made her feel completely seen through, as if she had no secrets left. It made her deeply uneasy.

"Senior! If there's nothing else, this junior will take her leave." Li Mochou spoke with a nervous heart.

"You're young, yet your martial arts are this formidable—your talent must be extraordinary. Any interest in becoming my disciple?" Wang Ming suddenly said.

It stunned Li Mochou for a moment, but she quickly snapped back to her senses. She wasn't naive; she knew the dangers of the martial world. Nothing came that easily.

"Thank you for your kindness, Senior. But I actually lied earlier—I do have a master. Please forgive this humble woman for not obeying."

"Oh! Fair enough. I can't steal another's beloved disciple."

Li Mochou was overjoyed, thinking she could finally get away from this man. Being around him made her feel unsafe.

"I happen to need a sword-bearing maid. You'll do."

With that, he subdued the still-reeling Li Mochou and carried her away from the bustling streets.

When Li Mochou woke, her first reaction was to check her clothes. Finding them untouched, she let out a sigh of relief.

Wang Ming noticed her actions and couldn't help but feel a flicker of disdain.

His intentions toward Li Mochou were purely clean. He simply thought that if she kept roaming the martial world unchecked, she'd not only ruin her own life but also destroy countless innocent bystanders.

In this era, three wives and four concubines were the norm. Most men fit the standard of the heartless scoundrel Li Mochou believed in. Let her loose, and it would only bring bloodshed.

He figured she was still young, had gone astray—maybe he could steer her back.

As for what you, dear readers, might think—whether he'd say one thing and do another—that won't happen.

Wang Ming had no intention of seeking a woman in this world. With his system, he could basically live forever. If he took a wife, would he just watch her beauty fade into white hair and become bones in a grave?

That would only bring needless sorrow.

The celestial maidens and demonesses of future worlds—those were his true targets.

On the road, Wang Ming directly pulled out his sword case and made her carry it. Her little face went pale with fright on the spot.

She didn't last an hour before she knelt on the ground, begging him to take her as a disciple instead of a sword-bearing maid.

Ahem!

In the end, he agreed. Making her carry the sword was just a joke to scare her—how heavy was it, really?

With her inner strength, she could barely manage it, but her walking speed? Needless to say.

Taking Li Mochou as a disciple also made Wang Ming scrap his plan to find Duan Zhixing. Instead, he decided to travel the land and teach his apprentice along the way.

One day, Li Mochou went to fetch water and didn't return for a long time. Wang Ming thought she'd run off, so he followed her tracks to search.

In the distance, he saw a man in brocade robes being supported by others, apparently injured. He was still shouting orders at a group of people holding fishing nets, directing them to surround someone.

Looking closer, the one being surrounded was none other than Li Mochou. Trapped by the group, she was in constant danger, gradually losing ground. Her hair was disheveled, and several wounds marked her body—she was in a sorry state.

Without a second thought, Wang Ming leaped out and unleashed a single move: Thousand Flowers Scatter Money.

In an instant, some of the group were dead, others wounded.

Seeing her cheap master had arrived and subdued her attackers, Li Mochou rose and drove her sword straight through the brocade-robed man's throat. She'd nearly fallen to him earlier, and only when she saw him go cold did her anger subside.

Wang Ming paid her no mind. He interrogated the survivors until he understood the whole story.

It turned out they'd met by the river while fetching water. The brocade-robed man, seeing Li Mochou's stunning beauty, was overcome with lust and approached her.

Bad luck for him—Li Mochou had just been betrayed by Lu Zhanyuan. She saw every man as a heartless scoundrel. Add to that the man's barely concealed lecherous gaze and slightly frivolous words, and a single disagreement led to a fight.

Oh, and Wang Ming learned from these people that the brocade-robed man was none other than Gongsun Zhi, the lecherous, fickle, and lustful lord of Jueqing Valley from The Return of the Condor Heroes.

Gongsun Zhi's martial arts were mediocre. A few moves and Li Mochou had him beaten. But what she hadn't expected was that the Fishing Net Formation behind him was formidable enough to nearly flip her over.

Thinking about it, it made sense. That formation had even captured Zhou Botong. No wonder Li Mochou struggled.

Reminded by this incident, Wang Ming recalled Jueqing Valley. Without a word, he ordered the survivors to lead the way. He decided to take over that place.

Before, Wang Ming had no fixed home and didn't mind sleeping under the stars. But now, with a young apprentice, it was inconvenient.

Besides, his strength was only a hair below the Five Greats, but when it came to announcing his identity, he sounded terribly cheap.

Look at the others: Lord of Peach Blossom Island, Emperor Duan of Dali, Chief of the Beggar's Sect, Lord of White Camel Mountain, Leader of the Quanzhen Sect—see how much style they had.

Even that loser Qiu Qianren was the Chief of the Iron Palm Gang.

Most importantly, Wang Ming needed a place to settle down and focus. He had plenty of martial arts manuals, but far too little strength turned into real power. That was actually the main reason he gave up on going to Dali—he didn't lack another technique.