The Persuader

Hearing the astonished voice from inside—"A direct lineage disciple? Weren't they all wiped out?"

A bitter smile appeared on Zhang Xiaohu's face, but he remained respectful.

Then came the sound of measured footsteps from within. When they reached the doorway, Zhang Xiaohu looked up and saw Li Jian, Martial Ancestor Li, dressed in a green robe, his temples frosted white. The wrinkles on Li Jian's face were carved as though by blades; not only his temples, but his entire head had gone gray. Yet his back remained straight, and the sharpness in his eyes was even fiercer than before. Zhang Xiaohu did not dare neglect propriety. He immediately stepped forward, bowed, and said, "Disciple Zhang Xiaohu pays respects to Martial Ancestor Li."

At the sight of Zhang Xiaohu, Li Jian frowned as well. After thinking for a moment, he asked hesitantly, "You are the rather old disciple A Hai took in?"

Zhang Xiaohu nodded. "That is this disciple."

"Ah, you have been wronged too. You joined our Misty Sect only a few years ago, only to encounter this great upheaval. You never even enjoyed any of the privileges due a direct lineage disciple!"

Zhang Xiaohu was deeply embarrassed. "This disciple would not dare say so. Under Master's guidance, this disciple has cultivated the Misty Divine Art for several years and has achieved a little success."

"The Misty Divine Art?" Li Jian stared at him for a long while, then sneered. "A little success? You dare let such words leave your mouth? Though this old man has lost all his inner strength, his eye for such things remains. With the inner cultivation you have practiced for merely a few years, you dare claim a little success? I do not wish to strike you down, but you have not even found the