Chapter 45 I Have a Rule Too

Duan Yanqing, the Wickedest of All, and Yue Lao San, the God of Fierceness and Malice, are both villains whose evil is rather peculiar.

To put it more accurately, calling them simply villains does not quite capture their true nature.

First comes Duan Yanqing. His reputation as the Wickedest of All stems from the extreme cruelty of his methods in seeking revenge, wiping out his enemies' entire households down to the very chickens and dogs. Having endured disfigurement, mutilation, and abandonment by his own family, his personality turned utterly cruel and merciless, leading him to commit countless atrocities in his quest to reclaim the throne.

His wrongdoing was highly purposeful; he simply could not be bothered to pay attention to irrelevant people.

Moreover, he still possessed a certain bottom line. To repay a favor, he intended to save Xuzhu from Ding Chunqiu, even using ventriloquism to teach Xuzhu how to play Go. When he killed Yue Lao San, he did so with lingering reluctance, and upon learning he had a son, he chose to retire from the pugilistic world.

Believing he had committed far too many evils, he accepted that a day would come when his sins would catch up with him, and even while descending into the chess puzzle, his only regret was that he had never walked the righteous path.

Most importantly, he had a leverage point. Zhang Chengyi clearly remembered Duan Yu's birth date and horoscope from the book; a quick mental check was all it took. To have cultivated martial arts to such a degree despite being crippled made him an exceptionally useful working horse, well worth dragging back to the command of the Setting Drum Mountain.

Next is Yue Lao San, the God of Fierceness and Malice. This man can be summed up in a single phrase:

Recklessly unbothered.

By his own account, he lived by a single rule: never kill those who are unable to fight back. In practice, however, this often translated into a peculiar interpretation of whether you could actually fight back.

For instance, before Duan Yu acknowledged him as a master, Duan flattered him into a good mood and pointed toward Granny Rui and her approaching party, claiming that these people would kill him the moment Yue left. Without a second thought, Yue struck directly and instantly dispatched four of them.

With a massive head housing a rather small brain, he was simply incapable of processing complex nuances. As for his wickedness, he certainly killed without batting an eye.

Yet Zhang Chengyi always felt that the man was borderline mentally handicapped; to simply execute someone with an intellectual disability felt rather like punishing them without first teaching them right from wrong.

"Your son is a monk at the Shaolin Temple, bearing the Buddhist name Xuzhu. He does not know his father yet, but once I go over, I will have father and son reunited."

Turning his profile toward Ye Erniang, Zhang said, "So that you know, I am killing you because you frequently steal other people's children, tearing families apart."

"The pitiful always have hateful traits. Having accrued so much karma, your time has come today. However, I will not implicate your lover and your son."

"Your Excellency—" Duan Yanqing started to say something, tinged with a hint of anger.

"Shut your mouth," Zhang Chengyi interrupted him. "Outside the Tianlong Temple, beneath the Bodhi tree, Crown Prince Yanqing, did you know that you also have a son?"

Duan Yanqing's mind reeled; he froze in place, utterly paralyzed.

After a long moment, Ye Erniang returned to her senses with tear-filled eyes. Her lips trembled, and her face showed deep gratitude. Offering no defense, she closed her eyes and stretched out her neck to await execution.

Zhang Chengyi stepped right up to her and struck her forehead. Pouring internal energy directly into her brain, he extinguished her breath on the spot.

"Wawa ya!" Yue Lao San let out a strange shriek beside them, launching an attack against the formidable opponent without a moment's hesitation.

Zhang Chengyi casually deflected the weapon from his hand and grabbed him by the neck. "I've heard you have a rule: never kill those unable to fight back. Coincidentally, I have a rule of my own."

"I don't kill the mentally challenged."

The moment the words fell, the Northern Mystic Skill drained the God of Fierceness and Malice of his entire lifetime of martial prowess. His limbs turned completely limp, and failing to steady his footing, he slumped directly onto the ground.

"As for you," Zhang Chengyi glanced at Duan Yanqing, "we will have a proper chat once I capture Murong Fu."

"Take him and this corpse along. Let's go."

He was not worried that the Xixia warriors would disobey; the reasoning was simple—he had already warned them, and anyone who disobeyed next would die.

With that, Zhang Chengyi took the lead and walked into the estate. Clearly, the camellia garden was prone to hiding poisonous creatures or mechanisms and had long since been cleared away, but as he drew close to the estate's long corridor, he still caught the sound of rustling.

Channeling his inner energy, his already acute senses ascended to an even higher level. If he truly wished, he could easily pluck out every centipede, scorpion, and venomous snake one by one, but he certainly could not be bothered with such meticulous effort. Instead, he simply unleashed a palm strike.

"Boom!"

The vine-covered corridor, along with the adjacent courtyard wall and the waterproof wooden flooring, was blasted to pieces and blown away.

Fragments of wood and debris flew far into the distance with loud clatter; some shattered the doors, windows, and walls of the houses, while others embedded themselves deep into the ground. The destructive impact was astonishing. Flesh and blood by nature, no matter how venomous, the creatures were swept by the palm gale and pulverized into pulp.

"Whoosh!"

A dark figure clutching another form dashed out from within the estate, hurtling toward the shore where boats were moored, and vanished into a boat in the blink of an eye.

"Oh?"

Zhang Chengyi saw it clearly: the dark figure was masked. A note of surprise escaped his lips as he stomped his foot against the ground. Driven by sheer speed, his tread cracked the damp earth with a heavy thud, leaving behind a deep pit.

"Where do you think you're going!"

His voice echoed only after he had already arrived. He reached out to grab the masked figure. The person seemed intent on a desperate last stand, raising a finger to unleash an invisible surge of energy that whistled toward the space between Zhang's eyebrows. Before it could even come close, it was dissolved by his radiating inner qi.

"Damn it, you actually dare to attack me."

Zhang Chengyi had no patience for such antics. Since the other party sought to bring about their own doom, there was no need for courtesy. Raising his hand, he delivered a single slap. With a sharp crack, the masked figure was driven straight down into the boat, shattering its hull. A dull, muffled splash echoed from below; the fellow had most likely fallen directly into the lake.

Quite resilient indeed. Decent strength.

He felt a slight surge of surprise. Although he had not exerted much force, nor had he aimed for the head, the attack was triggered by his annoyance at being targeted in a fatal spot. Yet the opponent had not died instantly; instead, they had employed some technique to dissipate the impact. Judging by the feel of it, the injury should be no worse than light.

"Father!"

The young man left sitting in the boat by the masked figure cried out in a pale-faced, horrified voice.

"Bubble, bubble, bubble..."

Zhang Chengyi grabbed the young man by the neck with one hand and brought him to the shore. Watching the sinking boat and the bubbling water surface, he extended his palm and commanded, "Craw out."

A few seconds later, the water roiled, and a dark figure leaped onto the bank. His left hand hung loosely at his side; the facial veil had fallen away, and the wig on his head was gone as well, revealing a face—well, a face he did not recognize in the least.

He had already prepared himself; if the masked figure under the water had truly intended to dive and flee, he certainly wouldn't have stood on ceremony.

[Come to think of it, a bald head? The Mandate Blossom Manor? Someone calling him father? This person?]

"Are you Murong Bo?" Zhang Chengyi lowered his gaze to inspect the young man in his hand, who was likely suffering from internal injuries, and asked casually.

The bald man rapidly struck his own acupuncture points, muffled a groan as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and then snapped his dislocated arm back into place with a sharp click. His drooping white eyebrows quivered as he endured the excruciating pain, yet he maintained a poised demeanor and replied, "Didn't Great Hero Zhang invite me to meet at the Shaolin Temple? Why is it that you don't recognize me now?"

"Slap!"

Zhang Chengyi raised his hand and struck the old fellow across the face. He didn't use any strength, but the insult was astronomical. Glaring with an irritated expression, he snapped, "What kind of pretense are you putting on?"

In this life, there were two kinds of people he despised most: those who tried to act superior in front of him, and those who wouldn't let him act superior.

Murong Bo was stunned on the spot.