Chapter Twenty-Two: The Gathering of Heroes

"Quite a character, indeed."

Zhang Chengyi burst into laughter. It was no wonder that Qiao Feng, who would rather drink strong liquor and eat dog meat with the lowest-ranking disciples of the Beggar Sect, would still claim to have a bit of a friendship with Bao Qianling.

A man who feared death and clung to life, yet was willing to risk his own skin to save others; a man who hesitated and wavered when questioned, yet when truly speaking of Qiao Feng, remained unflinchingly loyal, refusing to utter a single word of disparagement.

He had clearly had the chance to leave, yet returned to try and rescue his companions. Upon hearing that a good person needed help, he took the burden upon himself without a moment’s hesitation.

Whether it was backbone, dignity, or chivalry, he existed in a state of quantum superposition.

Penniless, yet Bao Qianling—he was interesting.

Su Xinghe, who was always taciturn and emotionally reserved, allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.

Walking the path of the pugilistic world—if one was not seeking wine, women, power, or wealth, then encountering such an interesting person was truly one of life’s little pleasures.

"Sit, eat with me." Zhang Chengyi pushed over a spare set of bowls and chopsticks. His appetite was immense, so he always prepared enough food for four or five people at every meal; besides, he snacked constantly, so it mattered little whether his main meals were light or heavy.

After sitting down, Su Xinghe added, "Master Zhang, since you abducted Xu Chongxiao, the winds of the pugilistic world have shifted drastically in recent days. The hundred or so disciples of the Shan family from Mount Tai will arrive shortly."

"The Qingliang Temple, the Great Xiangguo Temple of Kaifeng, and the Donglin Temple of Mount Lu are all on their way."

"The Juxian Manor, the Beggar Sect, and the Shaolin Temple are all making moves."

"I hear that the Beggar Sect leader, Qiao Feng, began his journey north from the south of the Yangtze yesterday. He will arrive in ten days at most."

As Zhang Chengyi listened, his spirits rose. He chewed his sweet and salty pork, a smile spreading uncontrollably across his face.

Let them make a scene. The bigger, the better. He wished he could stir up something massive right now, become legendary throughout the martial arts world, round up all the exceptionally talented masters, and drag them all back to Leigu Mountain.

Once he had settled all the loose ends, he would head straight south to the Yangtze and then up to Shaolin.

Whether it was North Qiao Feng or South Murong, Xuzhu or Duan Yu; the venerable Master Shenshan, who had single-handedly elevated the martial arts prowess of Qingliang Temple; the various masters of Shaolin; the Sweeping Monk; the tubet-dwelling Kumarajiva; the Zen Master Kurong of the Dali Tianlong Temple... and let us not forget Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo—none of them would be allowed to escape.

[I want them all!]

He did not care what hidden agendas these people had, or what they might do after studying new martial arts; all he wanted was a path to transcend the limits of the human body.

As for why he would save Shaolin for last, it was because he intended to bring everyone with him to challenge the Sweeping Monk, the strongest in the world of *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*, who could manifest a three-foot wall of *qi* with a mere wave of his hand.

***

However, while capturing so many people was easy, controlling them while on the move was quite a nuisance.

Perhaps he should consider improving the strength of Old Su and the Eight Friends of Hangu, otherwise, they would be far too inadequate among true experts.

Especially the Eight Friends of Hangu; their martial arts were so mediocre that they were truly painful to watch.

But he was still not quite capable of transmitting his power to others; if he did it recklessly, he might end up killing someone.

[Perhaps, I should look for some lab rats?]

Zhang Chengyi held no notions about the "inhumanity of using villains for human experimentation." As the saying went, his heart and actions were clear as a mirror, and everything he did was for the sake of justice. He genuinely believed that some scoundrels simply did not qualify as human beings.

They certainly weren't of his kind, and he felt not a shred of psychological burden in using them for his own ends.

If his experience was lacking, he would just have to try more often. Surely, those villains would weep with joy to know they were contributing to the transcendence of human limits.

"Old Su, find me a few villains who are rotten to the core," he said.

Su Xinghe nodded silently. He didn't ask why; he simply stood up to leave.

"Wait." Zhang Chengyi called him back, his expression softening significantly. "Old Su, eat first. There’s no rush."

Su Xinghe paused, stunned, before finally sitting back down to continue his meal in silence.

***

Jingfu Temple was surrounded so tightly that not a drop of water could pass through. Everyone present wore tight-fitting martial attire and carried weapons; at a glance, one could tell they were from the pugilistic world.

The usually bustling streets were empty, and all the shops were shuttered. Though the crowd surrounding the temple was large, they were deathly quiet; one could have heard a pin drop.

After a long while, the temple gates swung open. Shan Zheng, leaning on a cane, walked out with a gloomy expression, followed by the abbot of Jingfu Temple, a tall old woman, and a short old man.

"Master!"

"Grandmaster!"

A ragged chorus of voices thundered through the air; many had used their internal energy to amplify their volume for the sake of prestige.

The old woman remained expressionless, though a flicker of disdain appeared in her eyes.

If numbers were all that mattered, then the secret martial arts manuals of the world wouldn't be so fervently coveted.

Moreover, what did a mere hundred people amount to? The Beggar Sect had far more, claiming to be the greatest sect under heaven, yet even they were a mixture of good and bad; the truly elite experts numbered only a few dozen, and those who could stand among the world's best were fewer still.

Two middle-aged men soon emerged from the Shan family ranks, whispered briefly with Shan Zheng, and then led the disciples away.

The abbot of Jingfu Temple breathed a visible sigh of relief. With the opposing side currently holding the upper hand and his senior brother, Master Shenshan, yet to arrive, he was terrified of how things might end if they were to hold him accountable for the events of that night.

After all, Xu Chongxiao had been abducted, one of the six Shan family members had been rendered mentally deficient by a roar, and the other five were barely standing thanks to the medicinal salves of Tan Gong and Tan Po—their martial arts effectively crippled. Only he had emerged unscathed. If they were to pursue the matter, he would have no defense.

"My deepest thanks to you both for saving our lives."

Shan Zheng turned slightly, bowing his head in gratitude. "The great kindness of Tan Gong and Tan Po is beyond repayment." As he spoke, he trembled, intending to kneel and kowtow.

Tan Po watched him with cold eyes. She had a rather eccentric personality; seeing this "Iron-Faced Judge" condone his disciples' siege of Jingfu Temple to force the abbot and her husband into using precious medicine to save others, she felt only distaste. Seeing him now preparing to kowtow, she found it hypocritical and utterly ridiculous.

"There is no need for that, no need at all." Tan Gong, however, was a kind-hearted man. He stepped forward to help Shan Zheng up, saying, "A bit of salve only treats the symptoms, not the root. If you wish to fully recover, I fear you must seek a divine physician."

Shan Zheng’s expression shifted uncertainly. He knew that Xue Muhua had close ties to the culprit; to think that his family's recovery now depended on others! If it were only himself, it would be no matter—he was old, and his immobility wouldn't hinder much.

But his five sons...

"Amitabha." The abbot of Jingfu Temple pressed his palms together, breaking the silence. The monks who had been tracking Zhang Chengyi’s group were his disciples, and he naturally knew that Xue Muhua was following the culprit. He steered the conversation elsewhere: "Senior Brother Shenshan will soon arrive here with Master Guanxin of the Great Xiangguo Temple and Master Juexian of the Donglin Temple. At that time, the Beggar Sect leader, the hero Qiao Feng, will also arrive with his disciples..."

As he spoke of the grandeur that was to come in the following days, he could not help but reveal a hint of excitement.

With a battle like this, Jingfu Temple might just become world-renowned.

Shan Zheng, Tan Gong, and Tan Po exchanged glances, each harboring their own thoughts.

The three of them had come out of seclusion specifically for Qiao Feng, the Beggar Sect leader. But now, how were they supposed to react?