Chapter 31: Liang Ting’s Evil

"Is that so? Then lead the way!"

Zhang Zhiwei replied, then held his breath, hoping to hear more about the annihilation of Liang Ting’s sect, but found he could hear nothing further. It seemed his master had noticed his eavesdropping.

Zhang Zhiwei withdrew his focus. As he followed Lu Jin, his mind began to drift back to the memories surrounding Liang Ting.

Liang Ting, a deviant of the Quanxing sect, known by the alias "White Owl," originated from the Ink-Sin and Soft-Bone School. He was adept at using mechanical spear traps hidden within his own body and had covered his skin with a vast array of talismans. He was the preeminent master of his school and a grandmaster who had mastered both mechanical arts and talismanic inscriptions.

The White Owl is a large species of owl with a small, round head; this nickname likely held no deep meaning, serving simply to describe Liang Ting’s ugly, bird-like appearance. Because of his looks, he was despised by his father from a young age, only to be taken in by the head of the Ink-Sin and Soft-Bone School to be taught their crafts. During that time, he was constantly discriminated against by his fellow disciples, who viewed him as a monster and could not bear to look at him.

Perhaps due to these early experiences, the thing Liang Ting craved most was the gaze of others. This attention gave him a sense of perverse satisfaction, and his entire life was essentially built around pursuing that thrill. At first glance, his treatment within his sect was somewhat similar to Naruto’s experience in his village. The White Owl wanted the gaze of those around him, which was essentially the same as Naruto seeking recognition. Both had struggled toward that goal.

Naruto endured hardships, gained recognition, and reaped what he desired. Liang Ting had also put in immense effort; his sect’s heritage included both mechanical and talismanic techniques, and he had become a grandmaster in both. Achieving the status of a master in either discipline requires more than just talent—it requires profound dedication. Liang Ting went even further, taking an unconventional path by fusing the two, transforming himself into a living machine and carving talismans into his skin to become impervious to blades and bullets, leaving him with no weaknesses.

His goal in doing all this was to force his master and fellow disciples to look at him, to be shocked by his achievements, and to finally regard him with respect. But unfortunately, he failed; he only made matters worse, as they grew even more repulsed by him. After all, he had merely been an ugly man before, but after his modifications, he could hardly be considered human anymore.

The scorn of his sect and the disdain of his master drove Liang Ting into total madness. The accumulated hatred of years erupted all at once, and he slaughtered his entire sect in an incredibly brutal fashion. Yet, as he was butchering his fellow disciples, Liang Ting felt for the first time the intense, loathing gaze of those around him. It gave him a sense of being important, and he felt a thrill so intense it was intoxicating. From then on, he joined the Quanxing sect, spending twenty years in pursuit of that same sensation. For the sake of that thrill, he committed arson, murder, and plunder without cause. In short, during those twenty years, he committed every evil imaginable; any malicious word in the world would seem pale and weak when applied to him.

Come to think of it, the only act he performed that could be considered remotely human was joining Wugensheng to support the Tang Sect patriots in their resistance against the Japanese, where they wiped out an entire enemy battalion. By the end of the battle, all of Wugensheng’s subordinates were dead, and Wugensheng himself was severely wounded, but Liang Ting remained unscathed—a testament to his power.

At that time, Liang Ting asked Wugensheng a question: if he were to turn around and slaughter those Tang Sect patriots who were fighting for their country, how would the world view him? Wugensheng replied that the world wouldn't view him any differently; people would simply see it as expected behavior from a beast like him. Liang Ting found this dull; indeed, he had done such things too many times. He then asked Wugensheng what would happen if he did a good deed—if he saved these Tang Sect experts who hated him to the core? How would they look at him then?

Before Wugensheng could answer, Liang Ting had an epiphany. No matter how many he killed, or how much they hated or loathed him, it was meaningless; this was not the satisfaction he truly sought. He wanted to experience the feeling of people hating him to death while simultaneously being forced to feel gratitude, of them wanting to kill him while being bound by moral duty to spare him.

And so, he saved the men of the Tang Sect. Among those saved was a man named Gao Yingcai, whose daughter had been tortured to madness by Liang Ting right before his eyes. Being saved by the very enemy he desperately wanted to kill, while that enemy was fighting the invaders, left Gao Yingcai in a state of moral agony. Should he put aside his personal vendetta and fight the invaders alongside his enemy, or ignore the national crisis and kill his enemy along with the invaders? National duty, personal hatred, and righteous cause—these conflicting emotions drove Gao Yingcai to the brink of insanity. Ultimately, the screams and cries of his daughter echoed in his mind, and he chose to strike at Liang Ting.

Liang Ting, basking in the complex gaze of Gao Yingcai, felt a pleasure so intense it reached the point of enlightenment. He realized that everything he had pursued his whole life was nothing more than an illusion—a mere reflection in the shattered, shocked eyes of the world looking back at him. Liang Ting recalled his days at his sect; he could have pursued a better path, a more worthy road, but he had chosen the worst possible way. He wanted to pull back and do something worth doing, but in the end, his greed for that twisted thrill caused him to abandon his newfound clarity, choosing to sink into that sensation and die at Gao Yingcai’s hands. Gao Yingcai, having fought alongside the enemy to kill Liang Ting, felt he could no longer live with the shame and walked to his own death without resistance.

Looking at the whole picture, Liang Ting was a man of utter, disgusting darkness, devoid of a single glimmer of humanity. The saying "a man's words are good when he is dying" did not apply to him. Even at the very end, he used his own life to torment and drive a patriotic hero to madness. And the reason for all of this was simply to satisfy his own perverted obsession, to chase that momentary thrill.

In any case, if Zhang Zhiwei were to encounter such a wretch of the Quanxing, he wouldn't waste a single word; he would simply send him off with a slap. As for whether he could actually finish off a grandmaster like that… Zhang Zhiwei never doubted his own strength. To others, Liang Ting was a grandmaster, but in Zhang Zhiwei’s eyes, he was merely someone with a few tricks, none of which were substantial.

The foundation of the path of cultivation lies in one’s nature and life; so-called talismans and mechanical arts are merely auxiliary means—peripheral techniques. To over-rely on such side-paths, to transform oneself into a machine, and to wallow in disgusting, petty obsessions while neglecting one’s "nature" and "life"—is this not putting the cart before the horse? If one’s nature and life are not strong, no matter how many flashy techniques like talismans or machines one possesses, they are merely castles in the air. They might work against ordinary people, but before a true master, they are rootless, collapsing at the slightest touch.

If he were to face Liang Ting? He would slaughter him with ease.