Afterword: Blood Money

"Family members, family members!"

"After leaving Bodhisattva Valley, it's another six li to Taiye Prefecture."

"How about we check if Master has enough money?"

After a few days, Xue Ming and the others finished resting, and the two students set off on their journey carrying loads.

Upon reaching the entrance to Bodhisattva Valley, Wu Xiuwen saw the clear sky and beautiful scenery. With no one around, he shouted loudly, "After crossing Black Wind Ridge, there are still countless mountains to climb!" He no longer had his godfather to rely on, but he was now clear-headed and no longer afraid or confused.

"Master! Time to pay the life-saving fee!"

A dozen or so burly men emerged from the wilderness, all with fierce and menacing faces. Wu Xiuwen was very clever and had long known the nature of the local Government Soldiers in the southeast region—these men were soldiers when they wore official uniforms, but bandits when they took them off.

When you get to the vicinity of Taiye, people will naturally stop you and demand money from lone travelers to save their lives.

At noon, when the sun was at its most scorching, a dozen or so men rode tall horses, with official gold seals and large swords at their waists—no need to look closely, the gilded iron seal on the scabbards bore the eight large characters "Imperial Decree of the Prefect of Shuntian Chengde," indicating they were officials and soldiers of Taiye Prefecture.

Even when doing dirty work, they had to carry government weapons. It was a kind of insurance – if the brothers were careless and ran into trouble, they could pull out their knives, hand over their military identification cards to prove their identities, and avoid losing their lives.

The fat old man at the head of the group stepped forward, blocking the middle of the road, and shouted at Jiang Xueming.

"Where did this wild monk come from? Coming to Taiye to beg for food?"

The young man standing next to the fat old man immediately said, "That robe is very beautiful; it must belong to a guardian monk of Lingguang Temple."

"Lingguang Temple?" The fat old man frowned, then shouted loudly, "Those two porters have shifty eyes; you can tell they're no good! They must have conspired to rob the Dharma protector monk of his luggage and travel expenses! Brothers! Let's act on behalf of Heaven, kill this bald monk, and take his robe to the prefect! Wouldn't that be a great deed?"

The young man tried to dissuade him, but the old man was obsessed with money; once he saw the robe, he couldn't resist.

Apart from a few bird calls, no other human voices could be heard from Bodhisattva Valley. Confirming that it was indeed these three lonely people, the fat old man, riding his horse, didn't want to ask questions or go through the formalities. He drew his broadsword and charged towards the valley entrance.

Wu Xiuwen cursed, "Master! Are you senile?! Get your money out quickly! The officials are already pulling out knives!"

The old man shouted, "You brat! Take this!"

Jiang Xueming was still in a daze. He only knew that Xiantai Prefecture had many rules and difficult roads, but he did not expect that on the road from Zhuzhou to Taiye, it would be impossible to move an inch without bodyguards clearing the way.

He was still wondering how Zhao Jianying and Xiangxiang had gotten through this ordeal. The two fugitives hadn't even had any money to buy their lives, and they had fled in haste without even taking their travel documents. Before he could figure it out, the knife came at him.

The old man borrowed a horse and watched as its iron hooves thundered down the slope. With the galloping horse leading the way, the sunlight shone on the blade, creating a clear, cold gleam like flowing water.

Jiang Xueming was taken aback and finally woke up from his leisurely state of mind. He could no longer hide his abilities. He quickly pushed Wu Xiuwen Jianxiong aside, kicked Jian Xiong in the waist, and pushed the two students away to another place.

He calculated the distance accurately and saw the powerful, charging broadsword. Instantly, the murderous aura was overwhelming and difficult to resist.

The dozen or so soldiers following behind the old man were about to clap and cheer, hoping to curry favor.

The next second, they stopped laughing.

The monk dodged in time, leaping into the air on the rocks. The old man's knife missed its mark, and he pulled on the reins to chase after him. When they reached the rocky beach at the valley entrance, they could not run fast. They turned their horses around and saw the black-robed monk rushing towards them.

After a series of quick breaths and nimble movements, the spirit horse obediently protected its master. Unable to see the person behind its tail, it immediately kicked to injure them—but as soon as the kick landed, a strange "crack" sound was heard.

The officers and soldiers couldn't see the spirit, nor did they know what had happened.

Jianxiong was kicked to the side of the road by his master, but he saw the Iron-Helmeted General lightly swing his fist and arm, crippling one of the wild horse's hind legs.

Even the best horse is timid. After suffering a broken bone, it walked fearfully toward the wild land beside the road. It had only taken two steps when it fell over, pulling the old man on its back with it.

The old man, his head bleeding from the fall, scrambled off the horse, dropping his knife, and cried out in panic, "This evil monk knows sorcery! Brothers! Help me! Come help me!"

Before his brothers could arrive to their rescue, Zhang Guiren picked up his broadsword and rushed forward.

"--Don't harm my banner!" a stern shout rang out from the cavalry.

The dozen or so brothers all pulled their horses back, but the young man from before spurred his horse forward and rushed to the old man's aid. When he reached the black-robed monk, the young man was agile, and his movements of drawing his sword and dismounting were swift and fluid. Before Jiang Xueming could even raise his sword to strike, he was already in the middle, blocking the way.

Xue Ming looked closely and saw that the man was only twenty-five or twenty-six years old. He had a pair of eagle eyes, fierce features, broad and powerful shoulders, and a protruding belly, but he was unusually agile.

Hot white mist could be seen with each breath, but there were no signs of Vita Imprint or blood transfusion.

Jiang Xueming switched hands and moved to the left. The young man, wielding a large sword, guarded the center line. He was not familiar with left-handed combat swordsmanship—perhaps the military camp had not taught him. He used his body as a shield and moved to the left.

Jiang Xueming was only four or five feet to the right.

The young man immediately tensed up, his face contorting with rage. Once in the familiar combat environment, his every thought was written all over his face.

Jiang Xueming stopped approaching, and in the ensuing stalemate, he finally spoke.

"Your commander wanted to kill me, and he didn't even ask my name before he acted. What? Can't I kill him?"

The young man replied, "Monk! Your robe is valuable! The captain is demanding money from you to save your life. If you don't want to pay, he can go and get it himself—what's wrong with that?"

Before Xue Ming could answer, Xiuwen, who was watching the drama unfold, immediately started stirring things up.

"Nonsense! These fat, ill-mannered thugs! Did they even give us a chance to speak? If they want to hand over money, they should at least make a move!"

Wu Xiuwen, making a ruckus, rolled out of the mud, tidied up his luggage, and was about to vent all his anger back.

"I think it's you, Commander, who's been blinded by greed! His roof is leaking, he's got a sore on his skull, his wife is cheating on him, and his son's testicles are practically golden! He's going to kill people as soon as he leaves the city? And you're going to protect him? Is he even your father?!"

The old man was exhausted and fell off the horse, which made him faint from the pain. Hearing Wu Xiuwen's cursing, he turned red in the face and thought for a long time before he could only shout out in a hoarse voice.

"Liuzi! Kill this crooked-mouthed iron rooster first! Don't bother with me! I'll fight this evil monk!"

Hearing the captain's angry words, the young man neither made way nor went to cause trouble for Wu Xiuwen.

His name was Liuzi. His parents had died. The captain took him into the army camp to serve as Government Soldiers for the prefect. He regarded the captain as his father and naturally wanted to protect his father's life.

"What? You look down on me?" The old man's face burned with anger at Liuzi's disobedience. He also noticed the barracks brothers whispering in the distance, seemingly unwilling to come to the rescue. Enraged, he pointed at Wu Xiuwen and roared, "I want you to help?! Go! Go chop his head off! I'll spit his brains out and drink it with my liquor! Damn it!"

With just these few curses, Xiuwen had already incurred a great deal of hatred.

Jiang Xueming wasn't interested in the old man, but he was very interested in Liuzi.

--Because this young man is amazing.

With his arm span, physique, and weapons, and without using psionic energy, it would be impossible for him to break through Liuzi's defenses and take the old man's life from the left flank in such a short distance. He would definitely not be able to escape unscathed.

Judging from Liuzi's wingspan of over 190 centimeters and his defensive stance, from a structural perspective, this kid's focus and concentration are excellent, slightly better than the Zhao Brothers.

If Zhao Jianying's killing of the bear relied on a bit of luck and a bit of bravery in protecting his family...

If Liuzi were to encounter such a massive beast, this kind of person, with a weapon in hand and a bit of his brain, would probably not suffer any injuries—his Thumb had a thick callus like a tumor, indicating he was a seasoned horseman and archer.

Jiang Xueming changed his stance, raising his sword to eyebrow level, a standard opening move for a decapitation strike.

"Aren't you going to move aside?"

At that moment, Liuzi felt immense pressure; a layer of frost had formed on his gleaming steel broadsword.

The overwhelming murderous aura made him lose his composure, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered.

"I know the commander is unreasonable, but I'm biased towards family over justice, and I can't reconcile loyalty to my parents with filial piety. Monk, if you have the ability to take my life, then go ahead and try. If you lose, you must accept the consequences. If you win, I will have repaid my debt of gratitude for raising me and settled our kinship ties. From now on, we'll call it even."

As soon as he said that, Liuzi had already admitted defeat in his heart.

His fighting spirit collapsed in an instant. He felt that what he was facing was not a martial artist, not a warrior who had come out of a battlefield, but a demon who was calmly wading through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

Just moments ago, he had the courage to push and pull the distance between himself and others, but now, he was contemplating his own death.

Perhaps he was slashed in the neck, the knife reaching his heart and lungs, severing five or six bones along with him.

Perhaps his skull split in two, and he would be defeated and killed after only two or three rounds.

Perhaps he was being outmaneuvered by the monk's agility; to protect the banner, he couldn't afford to take large strides. He couldn't win against the monk on this point alone; without speed, everything else was meaningless.

Even after knowing all this, Liuzi still did not back down.

"Then I'll give it a try?" Jiang Xueming changed to holding the broadsword with both hands to maintain his balance, and stood up straight, no longer showing any intention of bending down or hunching over to adjust his posture.

It felt extremely strange; Liuzi couldn't understand it and had never witnessed such an offensive posture before.

Taiye Prefecture was a major city where the imperial army stationed troops on the border. Beyond the pass lay the Central Plains. Many bandits and knights-errant came to seek refuge and beg for food, asking the county governor for a living, becoming his retainers or captains, and using their martial arts skills to train border officers and generals.

In such a mixed place, it is easy to see strange kung fu and bizarre techniques, but Liuzi has studied martial arts for so many years, met so many people, and followed more than a dozen instructors, but he has never seen such strange martial arts.

Speaking of weapon-wielding postures, no matter how varied they may be, they must all utilize the power of the lower body, drawing strength from the earth and the meridians throughout the body. Whether it's a wide, even stride or a stance with a bent elbow and sunken shoulders, the goal is to unleash the coiling power of the muscles, transmitting the strength of the legs to the upper body.

This wicked monk stood so straight, like a completely loose bowstring; if a fight were to break out, would he even have the strength?

Liuzi is still thinking--

--Did we just hand over the first round? Did we really just give away our advantage like that?

This was not due to Xue Ming's carelessness or underestimation of his opponent, but rather to the sword-wielding posture of the Peacock King Andreanfu in the Pankrasin Palace.

When the spine is fully upright, the body loses some of its lower body strength and the center of gravity rises. At first, Xue Ming couldn't understand the mystery of this stance. It wasn't until after they fought that Fragrant Dream was attacked and lost her balance and defenses were broken—only then did Xue Ming begin to understand how bold and courageous it was to stand up straight when fighting for one's life.

The Peacock King is immortal, so it naturally doesn't need to worry about what happens after defeat.

Its closest elder brother was Beowulf. These two sword masters had been exchanging and sparring with each other for many years, and their research on Pankrasin tactics had reached a superb level.

During the last showdown with Zhuzhu, Xue Ming adopted the same posture, standing completely upright with her chin raised. Zhuzhu mistook this for a provocation—because Xue Ming's stride was smaller, indicating she wasn't planning to run away, and thus thought it was an ant challenging a human.

Let's put the details aside for now. Since Liuzi doesn't understand, let's wait for the demonic monk to make his move.

The moment the sun passed overhead, sunlight shone through Xue Ming's blade and into Liuzi's eyes.

He turned his face to one side to avoid the bright light.

The next second, he rolled to the ground, and the weapon in his hand was gone.

The pain came a little late; he was struck by it, as if hit in the chest by a large gong, and his head was buzzing.

When he came to his senses, he was in so much pain that he couldn't speak. He collapsed onto the flag bearer's body, his buttocks pressing down on his adoptive father's head, unable to move.

He tried to get up, hearing the flag officer's sobbing and cries of pain, but he couldn't get up no matter what he did.

I stood up unsteadily, feeling a sharp pain in my chest—the dull ache of cracked bones and accumulated blood—an indescribable suffering.

Looking again at the bandit's attire, a horizontal stripe ran down the cloth, and the exposed skin on his chest was mangled and raw. Only then did he realize that he had been slashed by the back of a knife.

Then look at this wicked monk, who had already picked up his weapon and squatted down beside the flag bearer, tilting his head to sized up Liuzi.

"You've died once."

Liuzi was speechless with astonishment, his eyes bloodshot. The demonic monk appeared as three superimposed images, which took a while to coalesce into one.

Looking towards Taiye again, the brothers in the barracks who were traveling with me took out their whips and galloped wildly into the city—clearly they were frightened.

This is the Peacock King's Pankrasin. This high-positioned stance is extremely deceptive. It seems to have little mobility, but its explosive power is very strong.

If we have to explain it scientifically, then in his previous studies and training, Xue Ming has always believed that core strength is the most important thing. As long as the air column of the diaphragm is still there, no matter what posture, whether injured or near death, the force-adding method used by weightlifters can continue to maintain the fighting will.

Sometimes, it's precisely when that last breath is released that a warrior, fighting for his life, loses his courage.

The Peacock King not only taught Xue Ming how to conceal his aura and neutralize his spiritual pressure, but this top-tier swordsman, the scruffy birdman, also had extensive knowledge of the cardiopulmonary system.

When Xue Ming straightened up, the dantian and dantian in traditional martial arts, as well as the power-enhancing qi column in weightlifting, became unobstructed. The movement of fully opening the chest cavity was like a goose spreading its wings, which was also a standard weightlifting movement of opening the shoulders and straightening the back.

This incredible mobility comes from the change in the body's center of gravity. When the body leans forward, it always tries to keep its center of gravity in its abdomen to prevent its head from falling. No matter how exaggerated the running motion is, it must maintain the center of gravity of the left and right legs and the midline of the body.

However, for the Peacock King, its movement was more like a "staggering and mad dash." This master swordsman always let his weapon lead him, rather than moving in a steady, orderly fashion, like a sword strike rising from the ground in one smooth motion.

If it's hard to understand, you can think of it as a person about to fall, trying to keep running forward but unable to stop—until this unfortunate person has run about fifty meters before barely regaining their balance, or simply falling down completely.

During this process, Xue Ming made an incredible discovery—the Peacock King's fighting methods were more effortless, more efficient, and more deadly.

If wrestling and jiu-jitsu are considered the pinnacle of ground fighting, it's because both fighters need to overcome their own body weight.

So, the Peacock King's Pankrasin fights while standing, using his body weight to transform all his weight into part of Pankrasin (all his power).

Even after her death, Zhuzhu couldn't understand why Zhang Guiren could suddenly switch from a high-ranking position to a state of rapid assassination, and why her adopted son also died from this strange movement.

Now it's Liuzi's turn to face this test. Ordinary people's reflexes simply can't keep up with this kind of fighting technique that defies common sense—imagine if a duel opponent suddenly lunges at you in a falling posture, it's almost impossible to predict or stop.

If the distance is sufficient, perhaps some suspicious points can be discerned.

He neither took a step nor leaped to strike; instead, he suddenly tumbled to the ground, unleashing a powerful burst of energy from all his muscles and weight. This was even faster than a desperate leap, without having to overcome the natural force of gravity during the jump, and without leaving any defensive stance.

The old man couldn't understand the martial arts either. Realizing he had stepped on a nail, he quickly took out his military token from his pocket and reported his barracks affiliation.

"Immortal Master! Immortal Master, please don't kill me! I am..."

Before the old man could finish speaking, Jiang Xueming stepped on Liuzi's shoulder, kicking the obstructive filial son away.

Then, with a swift movement, the knife fell...

--Pfft!

The soldier's badge flew up along with the old man's head, and the flag officer died on the spot, going to report to the Gongdelin Prison.

Liuzi turned deathly pale with fright. He had seen blood before, but never the blood of his adoptive father, nor the blood of his relatives and friends. All he had ever seen were criminals brought to justice and executed, travelers suffering in silence, and innocent and helpless people shedding blood and tears—how could it be the bannerman's turn to die?

He was filial to his parents; he would help and protect whoever was good to him. But when he saw that his adoptive father had also died, he suddenly realized that the military badge was not a life-saving charm and could not save his life in such a moment.

Liuzi still wanted to continue fighting; in a moment of impulsiveness, he wanted to avenge his father's death.

"You've already died once." Jiang Xueming's face was smeared with blood, but his black cassock was gone. The coiled dragon on it had turned from gold to red, becoming festive. "Want to do it again? This time I won't use the back of my blade to cut you."

Liuzi dared not speak, nor dared to flee; without his weapon, he dared not advance to fight.

Jiang Xueming, carrying two knives, casually pointed at the headless corpse and said with a cold, stern look.

"If he asks one more question, or if he wants money, I'll just treat him like a beggar—it's just a travel permit, five silver dollars. A little more wouldn't be a problem."

"But you heartless old man, you want my life without saying a word—thinking about it, hasn't he already killed quite a few people and robbed many paths?"

"You disguise yourself as a bandit to loot, arson, and kill people, all for the sake of wealth and status."

Xue Ming shrugged, tossed the broadsword aside, and told Jianxiong to pick it up and put it away.

"It's understandable, all of it is understandable."

"But even when death is imminent, he still wants to shed his skin, put on an official robe, and try to scare me."

That's not right.

"People must know how to be polite. If you've made up your mind to be shameless and disrespectful, you should at least see things through to the end."

"If he wants to be a bandit, I'll let him be a bandit for life— Liuzi, are you the son of a bandit?"

Liuzi's eyes reddened; naturally, he didn't want to be the son of a bandit, but his father's orders were absolute, and he couldn't expect to understand so quickly. They were all just fish in a chaotic world, drifting with the tide—in all the years of modern civilization, if their fathers were entangled in the three vices of gambling, prostitution, and drugs, how many children would have the courage to turn against them, to become enemies, unless faced with a life-or-death crisis?

"Monk, you killed my godfather! This is an irreconcilable hatred!" Liuzi gritted his teeth, but dared not make a move. His blood and qi were weak and his face was pale. After being struck by the back of the knife, his spine was crooked and his blood vessels were blocked. He collapsed and fainted from anger.

Jiang Xueming called Wu Xiuwen for help.

"I'll go find some wood, make a stretcher, and carry him away."

Wu Xiuwen: "Huh? Why spare his life?"

"He's Government Soldiers, how could I kill him?" Jiang Xueming asked in surprise, "You have the guts to kill Government Soldiers the prefectural government? Are you going against the prefect? Bullying the Government Soldiers is disrespecting your superior, killing Government Soldiers is tantamount to rebellion."

Wu Xiuwen could easily understand his master's sarcastic tone. "Yes, yes, yes, his adoptive father was a bandit, but he wasn't."

Jianxiong, clutching two swords, asked anxiously, "Master! I have no hands! My luggage is all on my shoulders, I can't carry these weapons, and they'll confiscate them if we enter the city, what should we do?"

"Come with me to the wild forest. I'll set up a weapon-forging platform and make something new for you guys to play with." Jiang Xueming was about to start working on his spear.

"Alright!" Jianxiong replied first, then asked, "Master, the sword technique you just used wasn't taught to me as a knight's combat skill. Where can I learn it?"

Jiang Xueming patted Jianxiong's wooden head.

"I'm right here! You idiot!"

Meanwhile, in Taiye Prefecture, two disheveled and miserable people emerged from Xiangxiang's Shop Street.

It was Jianying and Xiangxiang who arrived in the big city a step ahead of everyone else.

"I first heard that the shop's name was auspicious, and it's the same as my nickname." Xiangxiang helped Jianying hurry towards the alley entrance, her expression anxious and worried. "How could such a disaster have happened?"

Looking at Jianying again, after only half a month apart, he, who was originally a strong and muscular farmer, now had sunken cheeks and was emaciated, almost becoming a skin and bones walking corpse.

It wasn't that Xiangxiang absorbed Jianying's vital energy; there's another story behind it.

Ten days ago, Jianying, that brainless idiot, didn't recognize the official road and took Xiangxiang around Bodhisattva Valley, wandering around the mountains and forests at night. When they entered the city from the north, they encountered a Yin Yang Qiankun Temple that was distributing grain, oil and money out of kindness.

They had originally planned to get married and settle down in the city after moving there.

Without travel permits, according to the laws of the Great Xia, the two would be treated as vagrants and unregistered residents. They would first be sent to work as slaves in the homes of officials for six months, and then the officials' families would write a petition informing the local officials of the specific details of their labor reform. Some kind-hearted wealthy families would simply let it go.

If you encounter a ruthless capitalist who's willing to exploit you, they might write some despicable things in the lawsuit, and you won't be able to shake off this undocumented status for a year or two.

Zhao Jianying and Xiangxiang couldn't escape this hurdle either. When their travel documents were being checked, instead of taking their chances, they went to the Yin Yang Qiankun Temple to find "charity money."

--Jianying followed the young Daoist boy into the temple. Xiangxiang didn't know what incantation her husband had chanted, but when he came out, he was holding more than three hundred silver dollars, all tied tightly with red thread and documents.

She couldn't read, but she knew that she had money and wouldn't have to be a slave anymore, so she was naturally overjoyed.

But the money followed Jianying back to the Xiangxiang's Shop. After they settled into their rented room, furnished it, and prepared for the wedding, Jianying fell seriously ill.

Strange things didn't stop there. During the seven or eight days that Jianying was ill, believers from the Yin Yang Qiankun Temple came to visit him, bringing cattle, sheep, chickens, and ducks needed for the wedding, as well as a phoenix-embroidered crown and three gold pieces as betrothal gifts. It seemed that Jianying had explained everything clearly at the temple, and the arrangements were all made perfectly. They even invited the matchmaker from Xiangxiang's Shop to find two respected elders from the neighborhood to recognize the relatives and help officiate the wedding.

The sun was shining today, Jianying finally had some energy. Xiangxiang was about to take him out to see a doctor.

Upon reaching the street corner, Jianying coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

Xiangxiang screamed in fright and quickly asked, "Husband, you..."

"I'm at the temple. At the temple," Zhao Jianying said with a bitter smile. "Take the money you paid to save my life and take me to see a doctor. It's no use."