"Master!"
"Shut up!"
Zhang San Feng once again silenced Song Yuanqiao and the others, then cupped his fists toward Jiang Siming.
"I truly never expected that there would be such a prodigy in this world as you, Young Brother. At such a young age, you've already reached this level."
Jiang Siming didn't accept his flattery. Instead, he stated his conditions. "I can spare him, but I don't have many hobbies. I'm just greedy for money. Give me everything valuable in Wudang, and I'll let this brat go."
"This..."
Even Zhang San Feng was dumbfounded. People like them were usually supposed to regard wealth as dirt.
So why was this man asking for money the moment he opened his mouth?
"This is going too far! We'll fight you to the death!" Song Yuanqiao and the others were furious.
"Do as Young Brother Jiang says!" Zhang San Feng shouted.
"Master."
"I told you to shut up!" After saying that, Zhang San Feng slapped Song Yuanqiao across the face.
This time, no one made another sound.
"Pass down my order. Have Wudang's affiliated merchant guild send over two million taels," Zhang San Feng said.
Great sects such as Wudang, Emei, and Shaolin naturally couldn't only practice martial arts. They needed money for food, clothing, housing, and everything else.
Thus, most sects had merchant guilds, and these merchant guilds were extremely wealthy.
However, two million taels was still an astronomical sum. The Wudang merchant guild would probably have to lose a huge chunk of its wealth this time.
But they had no choice. Zhang San Feng knew that he couldn't defeat Jiang Siming and was nowhere near his opponent's level.
Under such circumstances, he could only compromise.
Since Zhang San Feng had said so, Jiang Siming wasn't an unreasonable person. He extended a hand