Victory came just that suddenly.
From the start of the battle to its end, barely half an incense stick had burned.
It made perfect sense, yet came as a surprise.
Zhong Qishan of Mount Hua gently stroked his beard and said with a beaming smile, "Clever indeed."
His two disciples, however, remained dumbstruck, still so immersed in Zhang Junbao's exquisite swordsmanship that they could not pull themselves free.
"That was so cool."
"What sword technique was that?"
"Turning sword Qi into thunderbolts... if only I knew that sword technique."
Hearing his two disciples whispering to each other, actually envying another school's swordsmanship, he could hardly bear to watch. He rolled his eyes at them. What a fucking embarrassment.
"When we get back, practice the Mount Hua Carefree Sword a hundred times."
"Yes." Both disciples lowered their heads sheepishly.
"I meant a hundred times every day!"
"Yes!"
Chu Tianxing was likewise pleased by Zhang Qingyuan's quick thinking. If he could join my Heaven Gate, I'd be even happier.
The other spectators all applauded when they saw how easily Zhang Qingyuan and his companion had won.
Their happiness came from the heart, as though they had seen the protagonists of a storybook, or their own younger selves just setting out into the world.
This joy was justice defeating evil, the downtrodden shattering oppressive power.
No one felt sorry for the Wang Family, because Zhang Qingyuan had already drawn them onto the side of justice.
Had Zhang Qingyuan turned black into white?
He had not.
He had merely reorganized and repackaged the established facts to deepen their impression on the melon-eating spectators.
It was like an honest citizen in a later era winning a high-profile lawsuit against an exploitative factory. The factory truly was exploitative, but without anyone exposing it, ordinary people would simply turn a blind eye.
Once someone posted evidence of the factory's crimes online and it became headline news, any victory against that factory would give ordinary people a sense of pride, as though they themselves had taken part.
This approach worked not only when fighting the genuinely heartless rich. Even if the wealthy merchant had been wronged, with proper planning, ordinary people would still spare no effort to help the "vulnerable party."
Because no matter the world, those at the bottom would always be the most numerous.
And ordinary people loved the thrill of justice crushing evil.
As for the sneak attack?
No method was going too far when justice crushed evil.
Why else would Zhang Qingyuan have blabbered on so much?
Raising a grand banner was one reason. The other was to keep yammering while edging forward, closing the distance between himself and Old Wang.
With their martial arts, Zhang Qingyuan and Zhang Junbao could have killed all two hundred men.
But if they really did that, how much True Qi would they have left afterward?
Save wherever possible. What kind of family could afford to waste True Qi like that? They still had Shaolin Temple waiting for them.
If negotiations with Shaolin Temple fell through, they would still have the strength to run.
It had always been this way: once the leader died, those under him lost most of their fighting strength. Otherwise, why kill the general first in battle?
Kill Old Wang first, and with the family head dead, those small fry would lose half their spirit.
Once their immediate superior Zhou Haoran and his eight guards died too, the small fry would lose all motivation.
Then Zhang Qingyuan could charge in and kill another wave, and the rest would basically abandon resistance.
They were guards, not deathsworn. They had gone to work for the Wang Family for money. With the people paying their wages dead, there was no point risking their lives anymore.
And by seizing this great victory with thunderous force, the two of them would see their reputations erupt among the spectators.
After this battle, they would leave the impression of righteous heroes, while also making people feel that their martial prowess was unfathomable.
Reputation +1+1+1+1+1...
Zhang Qingyuan put away his sword and addressed the hundred-odd survivors. "Heaven cherishes life. I hope you will all keep your eyes open when looking for work in the future, lest you help a tyrant commit atrocities again."
"We thank Young Hero Zhang for his guidance!"
After kneeling to offer their thanks, the hundred-odd men trickled away. Zhang Junbao moved closer to Zhang Qingyuan.
The two turned around and looked toward Shaolin.
They walked straight toward the Shaolin contingent. Monk Yankong looked as benevolent as ever.
When they reached Yankong and Juekong, they stopped.
Zhang Junbao cupped his hands in salute. "Zhang Junbao greets the two abbots."
The various sects gathered around. The appetizer was finished; at last, it was time for the main course.
Hadn't they come precisely to see what Zhang Junbao would choose?
Juekong knew he was no good with words, so he stayed silent and left the talking to his senior brother.
Master Yankong offered a one-handed Buddhist salute. "Amitabha. Junbao, do you still resent Shaolin?"
Zhang Junbao shook his head. "Master Jueyuan is gone. I have already severed all ties with Shaolin Temple."
Oh!
The onlookers' eyes lit up. A head-on confrontation!
"There is no need to dwell on right and wrong. We have already cremated Junior Brother Jueyuan and laid him to rest with Buddhist rites."
"Thank you, Abbot."
"It was only our duty. You and Jueyuan were master and disciple, and you grew up in Shaolin. Your affinity for Buddhism is exceptional. You ought to return to Shaolin to worship the Buddha. This old monk watched you grow up as well. I cannot bear to watch you stray down the wrong path." After speaking, Yankong glanced at Zhang Qingyuan.
Why are you looking at me?
Following me means straying down the wrong path?
What a label to slap on someone. Truly a master of reasoning.
Zhang Qingyuan stood to one side, yawning. It was not that he did not want to speak up for Zhang Junbao; the time simply had not come.
Right now, this was between Shaolin Temple and Zhang Junbao. If he interrupted, they would surely use his interference in Shaolin Temple's internal affairs as grounds to kill him with a palm strike.
However eloquent he was, he still needed an opening.
If they killed him under these circumstances, he would die for nothing. Who among the onlookers would dare help?
Once he died, Zhang Junbao would surely go mad. Shaolin could then claim he had succumbed to demonic madness and forcibly take him back to Shaolin to purge his inner demons.
So Zhang Qingyuan would never be foolish enough to hand them that opportunity.
Zhang Junbao raised his head and refused. "Master Yankong, I am dull-witted and understand little of Buddhist rites. After leaving Shaolin Temple, I became fascinated with Daoist scriptures. I feel Daoist thought suits me better. I hope you will understand, Master."
"Daoist scriptures?" Yankong paid that no mind. He smiled and continued, "Our Buddhist faith is vast and receives the incense offerings of the masses. Buddhist thought alone is the righteous path."
Zhang Junbao shook his head and said with a smile, "After studying Daoist scriptures for some time, I have arrived at a conclusion. I do not know whether it is right or wrong."
"Oh? What conclusion?"
Zhang Junbao answered, "Buddhists always aspire to become eminent monks who have attained the Dao. If they cultivate Buddhism, why must they attain the Dao?
"Could it be because Buddhism was originally the Dao?"
Zhang Junbao raised his head and looked straight at Master Yankong. Despite his composure, even Master Yankong could not help furrowing his brow.
As for Juekong, that went without saying. The hot-tempered monk was now blazing with fury.
Both turned their gazes on Zhang Qingyuan in unison, wishing they could dig a pit and bury him, personally sending him to the Pure Land.
Because, to their minds, could Zhang Junbao possibly have said such a thing? This damned brat must have taught him!
Their stares made Zhang Qingyuan's scalp prickle. His face filled with grievance.
I did teach him quite a few things, but he hasn't used them! He really came up with this himself. I'm innocent!
Whether he was innocent or not, Shaolin now hated him.
Not just Shaolin. After today, probably every Buddhist temple under heaven would want him dead before they could rest easy.
While their attention was entirely focused on Zhang Qingyuan, Zhang Junbao continued, "The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, and three gives birth to all things.
"Those who cultivate Buddhism ultimately attain the Dao and become Buddhas. Then what lies at the end of Buddhism?
"In my view, all things under heaven lie within the Dao.
"So, for me, why cultivate Buddhism instead of cultivating the Dao directly?"
Yankong was just about to speak when Juekong, already consumed by agitation, could not hold back. "Then shouldn't you give Shaolin an accounting for secretly learning our Buddhist martial arts?"
Hearing Juekong speak, Yankong felt another arrow pierce his heart.
He badly wanted to ask his junior brother, Why the fuck are you butting in now?
If you're bad with words, keep your mouth shut. Yet here you are speaking up!
Buddhism was originally the Dao.
Words that struck at the heart!
Unless they debated those words to a conclusion today, Buddhists everywhere would stand a head shorter than others from now on.
Those words had simply been so potent that Yankong's composure had cracked a little. In a real debate, his verbal combat prowess would be no less than Zhang Qingyuan's, only more terrifying.
But now, Juekong, why the fuck did you interrupt?
Changing the subject like that makes it look as though we've tacitly agreed.
And is this the time to bring up his martial arts coming from Shaolin?
A pig teammate. A pig teammate!
Even with all his composure, Yankong could not help clenching his fist.
His prayer beads spun rapidly through his hand as he silently recited the Heart Sutra, hoping only to calm himself.
Seeing that Juekong had finally lost patience, Zhang Junbao secretly rejoiced. He knew he could not outtalk Yankong. Brother Yuan had indeed taught him plenty of rhetorical techniques.
But he knew he was clumsy with words. Those techniques coming out of his mouth would never have the force they did coming from Brother Yuan.
So he could only settle for the next-best option and blaze another trail.
He could not outtalk Yankong, but no one understood Monk Juekong's temper better than he did.
First muddy the waters, then drag Juekong into them.
That was the difference between Zhang Junbao and Juekong. Earlier, while Zhang Qingyuan had delivered his impassioned speech, Zhang Junbao had hardly spoken, because he knew he must not hold Brother Yuan back. He had only occasionally chimed in to support Zhang Qingyuan's points.
Juekong, on the other hand... one sentence could get him agitated. Once his temper flared, his mind would fall into disorder; in that disorder, he would make mistakes, and those mistakes would make his help a hindrance.
This was not something Zhang Qingyuan had taught him, but a principle he had grasped from military strategy.
Zhang Junbao would not give Yankong time to compose a response. Following Juekong's words, he said innocently, "Back at the temple, I only learned a few moves of Shaolin boxing. Since leaving Shaolin, I have never used them again. How does that amount to secretly learning your arts?"
"Then where did your internal strength and the martial arts you just used come from?"
Yankong tried to stop his junior brother but failed. Juekong still blurted it out.
He raised his head toward the sky.
He could not understand.
Junior brother, why have you betrayed Shaolin?