I, Hong Yuan, Am a Person of My Word

His sternum shattered.

His neck was scorched as if by burning coals.

His right palm had been pierced through again by the long saber, and blood gushed out in steady streams.

Even though Meng Yue had been through many battles and had been wounded plenty of times, the pain twisted his face into a knot. He opened his mouth, about to let out a heart-rending howl.

Pfft!

A large foot came down and stepped on Meng Yue's chest. With just a slight press, it blocked the roar that was about to burst from his throat.

Meng Yue's throat bobbed, his eyes on the verge of rolling back.

Hong Yuan eased up a little and said warmly, "Junior Brother, you're a tough man. It's just a tiny little wound. Drink some hot water and you'll be fine. No need to scream and shout. Don't make your senior brother look down on you."

Meng Yue's hair was tangled together with the scorching charcoal. It hissed and crackled, sending up wisps of white smoke. The skin at his neck had even been roasted to a charred aroma.

His face was savage, his whole body twitching nonstop from the agony. He clenched his teeth and glared at Hong Yuan with bloodshot eyes, filled with fear, hatred, and pleading all at once.

Hong Yuan met his gaze for a moment. When Meng Yue could no longer endure it and tried to howl again, Hong Yuan stomped down once more and crushed that breath out of him.

This time, however, Hong Yuan picked up a saber and used it to flick away the brazier and the charcoal. Only then did he look with a smile at Meng Yue's face, pale as paper.

"Junior Brother, tell me. Why did you want to kill me? And..." Hong Yuan's gaze shifted to the crowd of ruffians inside the room, some dead, some drunk, some trembling in fear. "Who are all these people?"

"They're men from Old Third Yan at the docks. I invited them here to deal with you. As for why I wanted to kill you? Shouldn't I?" Meng Yue's voice was dry and hoarse, weak and feeble, yet he still spoke through gritted hatred. "I stayed at the martial arts hall for two years. I treated that Yang Erhu with the utmost respect, flattered him in every way, and he refused to take me as a disciple—yet he accepted you, some bastard who popped out from who knows where? On what grounds?"

Hong Yuan studied Meng Yue's face. With the powerful perception granted by Clear Eyes Through the Nether, even though the man's face was smeared with blood and his expression was vicious, Hong Yuan could still clearly discern the faint, subtle shifts in his expression.

Hong Yuan's right hand hooked around the hilt of the long saber that had pierced through Meng Yue's palm and sunk three inches into the floor. Suddenly, he drew it up with one hand. The steel saber fell into his palm, and with a raised hand, he slashed down.

The next instant.

With a "chhh," a line of blood cut across Meng Yue's wrist, and his right hand was severed with one stroke.

"Ah!" Meng Yue's shriek was as mournful as an evil ghost's. This time, Hong Yuan did not stop him. Only after Meng Yue stopped on his own did Hong Yuan speak calmly. "Junior Brother, you're lying. Can you reorganize your words and answer again? If you deceive me again, you may lose the other hand too."

Meng Yue's body trembled, his face bleak. He rasped, "What difference does it make whether I talk or not? Either way, I'm dead. If you're a real man, stop torturing people and kill me!"

Hong Yuan said faintly, "As long as you tell the truth, it isn't impossible for me to spare you."

Meng Yue's eyes were venomous, and a "hiss, hiss" of mockery came from his throat, as if he were laughing that Hong Yuan's words could only fool ghosts.

"I, Hong Yuan, am true to my word." Hong Yuan's tone was even and forceful. "Besides, even if you don't speak, there are so many people still alive in this room. I can still ask plenty of things. It would merely take a little time."

"You'll keep your word? As long as I speak, you really won't kill me?" Meng Yue rasped.

Seeing that faint, distant sliver of hope, Meng Yue's scattered gaze carried a trace of expectation as well. If he could live, naturally he did not want to die.

"Fine, I'll tell you! I come from the Dragon-Subduing Sect. By the Divine Firmament Young Master's command, I joined the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall, all for the sake of... back then, Grandmaster Dragon-Tiger..."

Hong Yuan listened silently. When he heard Grandmaster Dragon-Tiger mentioned, his eyes flickered faintly.

According to Meng Yue, the sect he came from had deep ties with the Tiger-Subduing Sect. In the past, there had been an expert in the jianghu known as "Dragon-Tiger." This High Person Dragon-Tiger roamed the jianghu for many years and accepted two disciples, one surnamed Zhang and one surnamed Li.

Zhang and Li each received half of High Person Dragon-Tiger's mantle. Originally, High Person Dragon-Tiger had hoped they would work together with one heart and carry his inheritance forward to glory.

Who could have expected that once Dragon-Tiger died, Zhang and Li would, for unknown reasons, turn against each other as enemies. Both founded their own sects, and the Tiger-Subduing Sect that Hong Yuan had entered was the lineage of True Person Li.

Meng Yue came from the lineage of True Person Zhang's "Dragon-Subduing Sect." He had obeyed the orders of the Divine Firmament Young Master behind the scenes, gone undercover in the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall, and intended to seize the Tiger-Subduing Sect's secret transmission to achieve the "Momentum of Dragon and Tiger."

The reason he wanted to kill Hong Yuan was entirely because Hong Yuan had become Yang Erhu's personal disciple and was blocking his path.

"Senior Brother Hong... you and I never needed to fight to the death. Dragon-Subduing and Tiger-Subduing both revere Grandmaster Dragon-Tiger. We come from the same source. The Divine Firmament Young Master of my sect is blessed with talent from the heavens. Why don't you take the Tiger-Subduing secret transmission and come pledge yourself to him? With the Divine Firmament Young Master's breadth of mind, he will surely put you to great use. Wouldn't that give you a better future than being trapped in a tiny martial arts hall?" Meng Yue struggled to say all this.

Chh, chh! Saber light flashed, and two more fingers from Meng Yue's left hand flew off.

Perhaps the pain had already numbed him. Meng Yue only stared blankly as the bloody fingers rolled onto the floorboards. His mouth opened and closed, as if he no longer even had the strength to scream.

"Junior Brother, is there anything else you want to add? I feel like you're still lying to me."

"I'm not..."

"Think again!"

Meng Yue was already exhausted in body and spirit. The weakness and intense pain wracking him all over were destroying his will, yet Hong Yuan forced him to repeat his account again and again.

After a long while, Hong Yuan showed a smile. Sure enough, there had been a few unexpected gains.

For example, he learned that in Yangquan County, Meng Yue had another contact above him, "Mr. Cui," whose main job was to relay the Divine Firmament Young Master's orders to Meng Yue.

There was also the night Meng Yue had gone to the docks to find Old Third Yan. At the time, another sudden incident had taken place: a powerful intruder had attacked Old Third Yan's gambling den under cover of night, killing and wounding about twenty men before finally being forced back by hidden arrows.

"The person who charged into Old Third Yan's lair... couldn't have been Teacher, could it?" Hong Yuan carefully confirmed the timing. Feeling that it lined up with the time Yang Erhu had gone out that night, returned, and been injured, he began to have some suspicions in his heart.

"You can let me go now, right?" Meng Yue's voice was weak.

"Of course I can." Hong Yuan nodded.

The next instant, the long saber turned in his palm. A gleam of blade light swept past and split open Meng Yue's throat. Meng Yue's eyes went wide, his pupils filled with blood vessels as he clung to his final breath and glared desperately at Hong Yuan.

"Ai!" Hong Yuan sighed, slowly wiping the blood from the saber on Meng Yue's clothes. With a calm and composed expression, he said, "Junior Brother, this is the price you pay for being uncultured. The Yuan in my name is the Yuan from Primordial Spirit! In your next life, strive to learn from your senior brother and become a cultured man well-read in poetry and books."

Meng Yue opened his mouth, as if wanting to curse something, but the light in his eyes had already faded.

Hong Yuan immediately turned and strode out of the room reeking of alcohol and blood. The few surviving ruffians inside were half drunk and half awake, trembling with fear, all feeling as if they had escaped a calamity by the skin of their teeth.

"We survived?"

Wild joy appeared on their faces.

But suddenly, a head poked in from outside the door, a brilliant smile blooming across its face. "Happy? Did you think your lives were saved?"