Life was full of misunderstandings, schemes, slander, and defamation.
Qiao Feng had a chivalrous heart and righteous courage, yet slander had left him abandoned by friends and kin, forcing him out of the Beggar Clan.
Li Xunhuan was a chivalrous genius, yet Lin Xian'er, a mere woman, had played him in the palm of her hand.
Lin Pingzhi had a natural disposition, yet a single ancestral sword art had brought ruin upon his family.
Sometimes slander was bullshit, absurd, yet left people helpless.
And here came a misunderstanding, right on cue.
Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao finally understood why the Blood Lump Sect had spent so long yapping at them instead of attacking straight away.
So they had mistakenly assumed the two of them possessed a divine sword.
Helpless, Zhang Qingyuan shook his head and smiled. "Although-although, yeah, I know we'll be fighting in a moment, I still have to say this in our defense: that Water-Parting Sword you mentioned really isn't with us."
"Brother Yuan, why explain so much? We didn't take it, and that's that. If they want to talk, let them."
"Brother Bao, we should still explain. Whether he believes it is up to him."
That was the difference between Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao. Faced with a misunderstanding, Zhang Qingyuan was the sort to explain first and fight afterward.
Even if they refused to believe his explanation and still wanted to fight, he would have no psychological burden when the fighting started. That was called having a clear Dao heart.
Zhang Junbao, on the other hand, took the view that if he hadn't done it, he hadn't done it. He wasn't good with words and couldn't explain himself clearly anyway, so he might as well save his breath.
If they attacked, he would fight back. If they died, they deserved it. His conscience was clear.
When Zhang Sanfeng went mad, he was even more decisive than a transmigrator.
"Haha, if you hadn't come back, we wouldn't have known it was you.
"When I mentioned the Water-Parting Sword just now, why did you two get nervous, hmm?"
We got nervous...
Zhang Qingyuan and Brother Bao exchanged a glance. We were assessing your martial arts!
Damn, you really can make things up.
"What's more, Li Guan said you two were ordinary people. When I asked which sect your master belonged to, you said you belonged to no sect.
"Tell me, how could someone with no sect have developed martial skills like yours?"
At this interrogation, Zhang Qingyuan gazed proudly at the sky, while Zhang Junbao tossed his haughty hair.
Neither felt wronged. They actually seemed rather pleased with themselves.
This left the five from the Blood Lump Sect thoroughly awkward. I'm asking you questions. Could you give me a straight answer?
"Ahem." Feeling their devouring stares, Zhang Qingyuan smiled. "We're exceptionally gifted."
"Exceptionally gifted? Do you take us for three-year-olds? Without instruction from a renowned master or heavenly treasures, how could you have developed such skills in so little time?
"Unless you happened upon some extraordinary martial arts manual, or a divine sword."
"Your reasoning is so sound I'm almost convinced," Zhang Qingyuan said.
"Right, Brother Yuan? I'm starting to wonder whether I actually obtained the Water-Parting Sword."
"Gentlemen, I've said all I can. We have no wish to make enemies of you. As long as you hand over the Water-Parting Sword, I can give the word and let you leave safely with Sun Zhenjiang."
"Sorry, we really don't have it," Zhang Qingyuan said, shaking his head.
"I never wished to oppose you. Don't force us to act! As I said, a divine weapon belongs to whoever has the ability to hold it. Even we are merely pawns. The power of those behind us is beyond your imagination.
"Stop persisting in your delusion, or you will face an endless pursuit!"
"Brother Yuan?"
Zhang Junbao looked at Zhang Qingyuan. He wasn't afraid of the Blood Lump Sect, but being hunted by the entire world over the Water-Parting Sword really would be an injustice.
If they really were hunted, they would be carrying someone else's blame.
If they had the Water-Parting Sword, they would deserve to be hunted.
But taking the blame for someone else really didn't feel good.
"Sigh. Believe what you like."
"Gentlemen, must you persist in your delusion and follow this mistake to the bitter end?"
The five swiftly surrounded them and closed in.
Zhang Qingyuan wagged a finger. "First, you're all members of the Twelve Fiends. If your martial arts are on the same level as the one we killed, your skills alone won't be enough to take us down.
"Second, being falsely accused feels awful. Once we've killed you, we'll find whoever took the Water-Parting Sword and beat him up to vent our anger."
"Aren't you afraid of being hunted endlessly?"
"If we silence you all, who will know we killed you?"
Zhang Junbao rotated his wrists and sighed. "Finally, we're going to fight."
"Since you wish to die, we'll grant your wish!"
All five charged at the pair. Their martial arts came from different places, and their fighting styles differed greatly.
The Blood Lump Sect wasn't a proper sect passed down through generations with its own heritage.
It was a canal transport gang, and naturally, its members had all been recruited from the martial world.
Great sects had their inheritances and standing. Their members lacked neither food nor clothing, practiced martial arts to strengthen themselves, and slew demons to defend the righteous path.
People of the martial world, however, were like Zhao Pengju. They learned martial arts in some sect, but lacked the talent to be trained as direct disciples. Once they reached a certain age, they had to leave the mountain and find their own way.
Such people made up more than half the martial world.
Those with powerful martial arts and pride in their hearts founded their own sects and established organizations. Those of mediocre ability joined an organization to huddle together for warmth.
Some joined escort agencies, some claimed mountains as bandit kings, some became assassins, some worked as guards, and some joined evil cults and demonic sects... Some joined the Blood Lump Sect and made their names as the Twelve Fiends.
Of the five, three attacked Zhang Qingyuan, while two went for Zhang Junbao.
Zhang Junbao was indignant. They're looking down on me!
Of the three, one wielded a sword, one a hook, and one a saber.
Though their fighting styles differed, years of living together had given them excellent coordination.
Sword Qi swept across, an iron hook circled, and a steel saber hacked down, leaving Zhang Qingyuan struggling to cope.
Damn it, my lack of experience is costing me.
He stole a glance at Zhang Junbao, who wasn't doing much better.
Seeing Zhang Qingyuan in such a sorry state, the three pressed their advantage.
Their thinking was that even if he refused to talk now, once they severed the tendons in his wrists and ankles and crippled his martial arts, he would have to talk anyway.
For the first ten exchanges, the two barely held out using Tai Chi's yielding softness.
By the twentieth exchange, they were gradually adapting to this deadly combat.
On the thirtieth exchange, Zhang Junbao was the first to strike.
Tai Chi Cloud Hands!
Nine Yang Palm!
Bang!
One man was sent flying. Before the remaining man could react, a fist struck his abdomen. Internal force erupted in his dantian like a small grenade, shaking him until blood poured from all seven orifices.
On Zhang Qingyuan's side, he too was just past his thirtieth exchange and could now counterattack.
The three from the Blood Lump Sect grew more alarmed as they fought. How could someone's combat experience grow so quickly?
In barely thirty exchanges, instead of becoming increasingly bedraggled, he was fighting more and more fiercely.
So we're just your sparring partners?
Zhang Qingyuan guided the saber's edge aside with a soft palm. Borrowing its force, he sent the steel saber flying from its wielder's hand, forcing the hook wielder back. Then he leaped up and unleashed a Nine Yang Palm above the swordsman's head, killing him in one blow.
After landing, he turned to dodge a fist, swept his sword fingers across a neck, then struck with another palm. The powerful force of his Nine Yang Palm sent the hook wielder staggering backward.
Before the man could steady himself, Zhang Junbao appeared behind him and punched him in the spine. He spat blood and died.
If this battle had been displayed as a game scene...
Above their heads, there should have been the words: Experience +1+1+1+1+1...
Looking at the man who had been beaten to death, Zhang Qingyuan felt contempt for Zhang Junbao's kill-stealing!