Chapter 536: Few Are Awake, Many Are Foolish (5)

Chapter 536: Few Are the Awakened, Myriad Are the Fools (Part V)

Upon the divine dais, the grand and solemn statue of the Maoshan Ancestor was shattered, its tumbled remains strewn across the floor.

Zhang Changfeng leaned against the residual feet of the divine idol, splay-legged amidst a pooling sea of blood, the armor over his chest torn to shreds and the gaping wounds exposing bare bone; his head hung low beneath disheveled hair, entirely motionless.

Snap.

A sharp, rending sound—reminiscent of axes cleaving and blades hacking—rang out as boot soles ground into the fragmented armor plates littering the ground.

Li Jun, who had pursued his quarry and lunged into the grand hall, suddenly felt an ancient, classical melody of Gong and Shang tones echo by his ears. Far more bizarre was the fact that the source of this sound was unmistakably Zhang Changfeng’s rising and falling chest!

The Six Confucian Arts: Ritual and Music?!

Boom!

The ten-foot-high divine dais was utterly pulverized by the crushing force of Li Jun’s pouncing fist, sending gravel spraying outward through the billowing dust like bullets, creating a terrifying, whistling din.

The unusual sensation at the knuckles of his fist startled Li Jun; he spun around abruptly, only to lock eyes with a pair of terrifying pupils that were as black as ink.

If the Zhang Changfeng outside the hall moments ago had given the impression of a pure, potent martial artist of flesh and blood, then at this moment, he was as foul as a pool of turbid, stagnant water, a nauseating stench of rot rushing straight into Li Jun’s mind.

Clang!

Two sets of ink-armor simultaneously ejected sharp blades from their elbows, and the close-quarters martial artists clashed their weapons in unison.

Showering sparks flew between the two pairs of eyes that had nearly collided, their resonant explosions fully matching the roaring thunder outside the hall.

Zhang Changfeng, who had seemed gravely injured and on the verge of death just a moment ago, was now fiercely valiant, his blades, fists, elbows, and knees alternating in a furious, relentless assault. Two refined martial arts surged like waves, offense and defense coordinating to suppress Li Jun’s incisive, piercing energy.

Yet, though the pressure before his eyes was immense, it still paled in comparison to the monolithic, celestial majesty about to crush down from above.

The Daoist Ancestor had already reached beyond the heavens, and the lightning sword had already touched the tip of the hall.

This was the true predicament that Li Jun found troublesome!

Clang!

Following a brutal, unadorned clash of blades, the two entangled figures rebounded backward.

The moment he stabilized his footing, a feral malice erupted in Li Jun’s eyes, and he was the first to lunge forward, hacking down with both arms wielding his blades as his sharp energy poured from the edges. The twin blades raised in a cross-block by Zhang Changfeng shattered instantly, his form sinking abruptly as the floor tiles beneath his feet exploded into fine powder.

With the crisp, metallic ring of a blade sheathing, the short blade in Li Jun’s left hand snapped back into his elbow; taking advantage of the momentum, he extended his arm to latch onto Zhang Changfeng’s shoulder while stepping forward to claim the position, his right hand spinning the blade around his arm before driving it downward with vicious force!

Screech!

The surging, sharp energy tore through armor and severed bone; a section of Zhang Changfeng’s forearm was sheared off at the elbow, tossing into midair.

Spurting blood sprayed across Li Jun’s face, yet it acted like water cast into boiling oil, causing the ferocity between his brows to instantly seethe. The blade in his palm did not pause for a fraction of a second, reversing into an inverted grip as it stabbed upward toward Zhang Changfeng’s jaw.

At this critical juncture where life and death were about to be decided, the overlapping notes of bronze chimes and ancient zithers rang out, a wave of slaughtering intent bursting forth from Zhang Changfeng’s body.

His eyes turned instantly into a sea of black and red, and he actually raised his sole remaining right hand directly to smother the stabbing blade.

Squelch!

The edge pierced through his palm, the halted tip stopping a mere hair’s breadth from his neck.

Low growls rumbled from Zhang Changfeng’s throat as he violently snapped the short blade impaling his palm, reaching out to grasp Li Jun’s lapel while raising his bone-exposed, severed arm like a wild beast to thrust straight at his opponent’s face.

Rumble!

At that very instant, the thunderclouds that had been gathering in the firmament for so long could finally contain themselves no more.

The golden roof of the Daoist hall was shattered and blasted away by the descending thunderbolts within the lightning flash, revealing a night sky where great stars burned like torches, gleaming in unison with the moon.

The ruined statue, the collapsing hall, the whistling wind of fists, the grappling silhouettes, the immortal’s thunder and rain, the martial artist’s blood and bone.

Amidst this heart-stopping, bizarre spectacle, the screech of a suona—utterly vulgar yet equally domineering—soared into the sky, whipping up an untamed aura as scorching as fire.

"You think you’re the only fucking one who can play a tune?! Dammit!"

As the demonic music pierced his brain at point-blank range, the pitch-black pupils in Zhang Changfeng’s eyes trembled uncontrollably, and his frenzied, life-exchanging movements suffered a momentary lag.

In stark contrast stood Li Jun’s erupting, ferocious offensive.

Dropping his elbow to smash his fist, driving his knee to blast the face, his left hand snapping the broken bones while his right hand drove the blade into the throat.

Thud!

Li Jun’s fist smashed heavily into Zhang Changfeng’s face, the crushing downward force of the blow driving the man along with the ground into a deep crater.

Broken armor mingled with lacerated flesh; the eyeballs, crushed into pulp, left behind nothing but a pair of dark craters, while the mangled limbs and armor twitched perpetually at the bottom of the pit.

Li Jun raised his fist once more, aiming straight for the heart.

This time, no obstacle remained before his sharp force.

As the fist fell, the ancient music and the heartbeat extinguished together.

Acquired 100 Mastery Points

Remaining Mastery Points: 382

Rank Four Body-Refinement Houtu Physique learned (Taotie Assimilation)

Expended 300 Mastery Points; Houtu Physique elevated to Rank Four Great Perfection

Wanli Guanshan (Body-Refinement Martial Art) acquired

Rumble!

A thunder dragon of terrifying thickness crashed down from the heavens, the vast light of lightning instantaneously submerging the entirety of the Daoist hall.

"It should be over now, right?"

Amidst the wind and rain, Liu Tu gazed at the billowing, misty wreckage before him, murmuring softly to himself, "Taking on the entire Guanyun Temple single-handedly, and even dragging down a sect Martial Four who refined two martial arts to accompany you in death—Li Jun, you died with honor."

"Who died, and who gets the honor?"

The moment Liu Tu’s words fell, a raspy counter-question floated out from the mist immediately after.

Within the blinding, hazy fog, a figure entwined with electrical arcs was faintly visible, his slowly straightening spine piercing like a sharp sword into Liu Tu’s chest.

"Guo Qiu!"

Liu Tu, his face as pale as paper, barked out sharply.

The green-robed Daoist, already drained nearly dry by the Ancestor’s artifact, lowered his head and took a faltering step forward; in the next instant, however, he dropped onto all fours like a wild beast, charging furiously into the mist.

Boom!

A plume of deep red fury violently erupted, the pillar of swirling fire rising a full twenty feet high, roasting the cold rain filling the sky into an even more gargantuan sea of white mist.

One activated talisman after another shot through the air, landing on the surrounding structures and burning the entire Daoist temple into a sea of fire.

Liu Tu held his breath, staring unblinkingly ahead, the flames reflected in his eyes surging and rippling.

Step.

The rising flames were torn apart from the center by a gust of fist-wind, and Li Jun walked out unhurriedly through the firelight, casually brushing away the residual sparks lingering on his tiger-head shoulder armor.

"Whew."

A heavy breath of foul air escaped Liu Tu; as if his spine had been pulled out entirely, he shook his head with a self-deprecating, bitter smile, uttering a profanity for the very first time.

"I didn't expect you to actually flip the table in the end. Fucking wretched."

"Since you possessed this kind of strength, why did you even bother cooperating with me in the beginning?"

Liu Tu clenched his fists, staring at the approaching figure, and roared angrily, "Why did you drag me down?"

"If I told you I almost died just now, would you believe me?"

"Almost died? Where was the difference? Was it Zhang Changfeng breaking free from the seal before his death, or Guo Qiu's self-destructing power insufficient due to being overdrawn by the Daoist artifacts?"

Liu Tu was frantic, his unwillingness unhidden in his eyes.

"Stop putting on that hysterical, disgraceful look. I think you should be able to accept defeat."

Li Jun walked up to Liu Tu, lifting his arm slightly.

Liu Tu's heart raced, instinctively wanting to lower his head and dodge, but found the other man only reached out to grasp his shoulder.

"The matter is settled. Let's go."

The two who were supposed to face life and death now walked side by side down Lion Mountain like old friends.

The cold wind blew, the cold rain slapped their faces. As they passed the collapsed mountain gate and the tombstone-like signboard, Liu Tu's hollow, dazed eyes finally began to focus.

There was no loud cursing, no whispered plea.

This noble and powerful Confucian official merely sighed deeply, turned his head to glance at the martial artist beside him, who had repeatedly surprised him.

"Though I know it's a futile question, I still have to ask—do you really have to kill me?" Liu Tu asked with a bitter smile.

"There's no reason to let you live."

Li Jun laughed, "From the moment we first met, everyone had the idea of trying to skin a tiger. It was all about who was more ruthless, more vicious, who could laugh last. If I hadn't gone up Lion Mountain tonight, wouldn't I be the one to die later?"

"It really fits that old saying—how can you avoid getting wet if you walk by the river often? This time, you win!"

After a moment of silence, Liu Tu spoke slowly, his expression filled with dejection and collapse.

No wonder he was like this. He had finally waited for his father to willingly let go of the Liu family's heir position, and his troublesome brother had been targeted by a powerful enemy. The entire situation's advantage and initiative were in his hands.

But just as he was about to conclude the dragon-slaying, someone suddenly flipped the entire board, leaving him nowhere to place his pieces.

Anyone else would probably not accept it easily.

"I really can't accept this." Liu Tu sighed toward the sky.

"The outcome is already decided. No matter how unwilling you are, it's useless. Don't try to bargain with me anymore—I don't fall for that. If you want to die with dignity, stop going around in circles. Cry if you want to cry, curse if you want to curse. After venting, tell me something genuine."

Liu Tu, who had already resigned himself, lowered his head and asked calmly, "What else is there to say?"

"There is. You still have one genuine thing to tell me."

Li Jun gazed down the mountain at the glittering lights and said slowly, "I heard Gu Xi mention before that you were actually born during the Longwu period, but were kept as an embryo for twenty years. Only when your father, Liu Jinxun, confirmed his own path in officialdom and no longer needed a burden of offspring, did he choose to let you be born. Liu Dian was lucky—he never experienced those twenty years of darkness, neither alive nor dead. With your character, don't you harbor any resentment in your heart?"

"After killing me and my brother, you still want to kill my father. Li Jun, have you always been this greedy?"

Liu Tu laughed aloud, almost crying.

"I wasn't greedy before because greed would get me killed. Now I want to be greedy because not being greedy will also get me killed."

The pale-lipped Liu Tu didn't directly answer but asked with a smile, "Li Jun, can you honestly answer me one question—did you come to Jinling just to avenge Su Ce?"

Li Jun laughed in return, "Doesn't it seem so?"

"Before I didn't think so, but now I do."

Liu Tu said sincerely, "If I had met you earlier, perhaps we wouldn't have become enemies. Instead, we might have become good friends."

Li Jun nodded, "We can try in the next life."

"Then in your next life, don't flip the table again. Let me win at least once."

"Why don't you join me in the martial world? I'll teach you how to flip the table and punch them in the face. It's quite exhilarating—I guarantee you'll get addicted after one try."

"A deal!"

Liu Tu slapped the armored shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of plea, "To be honest, I did hate him, but to betray my own biological father, I still don't want to do that. I've already lost. Let me keep some reputation."

"Alright." Li Jun's answer was clean and decisive.

Liu Tu squinted, his expression relieved.

"Before sending me off, can you give me some time to tell a boring story? Wearing the mask of a hypocrite for so long, I've almost forgotten how to open up to people. These things have weighed on my heart for years. If I don't get them off my chest, the road to the underworld will be exhausting."

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

On the dark, rainy mountain path, the armored martial artist and the scholar in Confucian robes walked shoulder to shoulder.

It was both descending the mountain and seeing someone off.

"I never wanted to be a Confucian official, even a first-rank aristocratic one. In the Confucian aristocratic families, fathers fear sons competing for power, brothers fear each other for profit. There are intrigues and suspicions. Anything can happen. But what one becomes is determined by genes, not by choice. Since coming into this world, I've cherished this life."

"To survive, I studied day and night, and without relying on the Six Arts chip, I rose in rank. After entering officialdom, I was willing to endure any hardship, do any dirty work, and almost committed every filthy act that contradicted Confucian teachings. Flattery, deception, fraud—these were all too common. I even hypnotized and brainwashed an entire third-rank aristocratic family, making them believe they were brushes, inkstones, golden houses in books, and jade-like beauty. One by one, one after another—if I were to lay it all out, I probably couldn't finish by dawn."

"Later, relying on the Liu family's young master status, I established my footing in Jinling's Six Ministries. Under me gathered many Confucian officials who praised and promoted me, creating an image of integrity and righteousness. I longed for the day I could wear the vermilion official robes, enter the real court, become a Minister of Rites, or even like Zhang Fengyue, become the leader of a faction, leaving my name, Liu Tu, in the history of the Great Ming Empire, imprinting my life in the minds of the common people forever, achieving immortality!"

"But now, looking back, it's all just rain and wind that have passed."

Liu Tu sighed, "Now I even miss those dark twenty years you mentioned—no one disturbing me, quietly and peacefully. Given the chance, I'd rather be an ordinary Buddhist official, not learning worldly or otherworldly ways, enjoying bliss in my own Buddhist kingdom, not hoping to avoid hell after death, just wanting to leisurely pass through this life."

Li Jun shook his head, "Today's Buddhist officials don't transcend the world."

"So this world is now a den of snakes and mice, a mixture of turbid waters!"

As he spoke, Liu Tu's steps suddenly halted, his arms spread wide, letting out a long howl against the wind. "Father, do you really think betting on the Spring and Autumn period will elevate the Liu family further? You're wrong, terribly wrong! When things reach the utmost difficulty, one must act boldly. What do you have to act boldly? Can boldness really overcome all hardships?! Liu Dian is a disaster, not an opportunity!"

Liu Tu turned to Li Jun, smiling, "Let my dear brother come down to join me."

Li Jun fell silent, his right hand suddenly thrusting forward, a cold light piercing the neck!

A head with a ferocious face soared into the sky, rolling down the mountain path into the wind and rain.

"Master Ma, why do you think the martial world lost so badly back then?"

With blood-stained thumb and index finger, Li Jun pressed a lit paper cigarette into his palm, took a deep breath, and asked puzzledly.

"What the aristocratic families and martial world do now is no different from what they did back then."

The weathered voice drifted out with red eyes. At that moment, countless sparks suddenly rose from below Lion Mountain, swaying upward before exploding into pale "Tian" characters.

The soul returns.

The mournful cries filled the sky, boiling over, audible even from the mountaintop.

It's the Zhongyuan Festival, the Gate of Ghosts opens.

Do the wandering lonely souls wish to return home? Li Jun didn't know, nor did he care.

He flicked his fingers, the burning cigarette butt flew up but was drenched by raindrops and fell, then crushed under the descending footsteps.

After killing the people on the mountain, there were still people below.

"You want me to learn from Lu Ning? You don't have the qualifications yet!"

In the Liu residence on Taiping Street, in the three-courtyard house of blue bricks and gray tiles, furious curses echoed from the study that held great significance for the entire Liu family.

"Now I'm sitting here. Liu Jinxun, what qualifications do you have to speak to me?"

"Let you learn, and you must learn. Can't Lu Ning die for his son, so you can't die?"

"You two old farts, so shameless to infiltrate my Liu family, just for that lone martial artist to rise? Do you know this is courting death, digging the grave of the martial world, the only remaining martial faction?!"

"If it comes to another division of the martial world, who's afraid of whom? I've lived this long with thick skin, unwilling to let the martial world die out. Now that the flame has appeared, we old bones should serve as kindling—that's only natural."

"I can stay out of this matter, but Liu Dian cannot die."

"Truly, the emperor loves his eldest son, and the common people love their youngest. But we've already come to your door today. Do you think you can hide what you've done?"

“What do you mean?!”

“You are suggesting that Little Er Liu Dian must be let go at all costs, yet you hand over the beaten Zhang Changfeng—marked with the Confucian seal—as the eldest Liu Tu’s trump card. What intentions do you harbor that require me to spell out?”

“I truly underestimated you, Tian Qiao.”

“It’s not Tian Qiao—it’s Zhang Changfeng. He is no coward. Two ambitious sons, now beyond your grasp, have drifted from your control. If it were you, could you still hold the Liu clan steady? Liu Jinjun, you’ve already amassed enough profit and abundance.”

“Profit? Ha ha ha ha.”

At the Liu clan’s estate outside, the stark character ‘Dian’ cast shadows across the streets, like a dozen floating lanterns in the night rain. One lantern soared over the estate’s towering eaves, lingered briefly at the window frame, as if a hand were about to knock—yet in that moment, neither joy nor sorrow could be discerned, and it chose to shatter the window and vanish into the sky.

The most indifferent of scholars, a solitary soul who never returns home.