Wen Zhengming was brimming with confidence that he could slay Wang Chong with a single blow. As for why Wang Chong had been "foolish enough" to impersonate Wen Ducheng, he reflexively purged such worthless thoughts from his head, refusing to dwell on them. To him, doing so would be a waste of his precious brainpower.
Wang Chong did not know many martial arts. Aside from the fist, footwork, and sword techniques of the Wudang lineage, he only possessed the Nine-Headed Dragon King Aspect and Diamond Prajna Palm Strength. The Wudang styles were easily recognized, and this palm technique was just as conspicuous, its characteristics far too distinctive. Moreover, he had only just used the Diamond Prajna Palm Strength, Nine-Headed Fire Dragon Flash, and Eighteen Flying Dragon Styles to kill Nali Hai!
Quietly gathering his internal force, Wang Chong met Wen Zhengming in an uncompromising head-on clash with the move "Across the Sky the Sun and Moon Trace the Ecliptic, Wind, Clouds, and Constellations Drape the Eaves."
There was no alternative. He had to ensure his opponent was dead first, rather than get killed by Wen Zhengming just to conceal his martial arts.
As long as the man died, Wang Chong would have plenty of ways to remedy the situation. But if he perished...
Then he truly would be gone!
The Wind-Cloud Hundred Styles contained intricate, labyrinthine transformations. Ever since transmigrating, Wang Chong had grown fond of this martial art. However, his train of thought differed from that of ordinary martial artists. Normal practitioners engaged their enemies with standard moves and only unleashed lethal techniques at pivotal moments; Wang Chong, on the other hand, instinctively popped his ultimate moves at every turn.
In fact, he utilized the three ultimate strikes and three bizarre moves of the Wind-Cloud Hundred Styles far more frequently than the standard techniques.
This move, "Across the Sky the Sun and Moon Trace the Ecliptic, Wind, Clouds, and Constellations Drape the Eaves," was one of those three ultimate strikes. It was primarily defensive, designed so that the instant the enemy showed the slightest carelessness, a rolling barrage of counterattacks would surge forth, overwhelming the foe's sight and defenses.
Wen Zhengming's spear technique was overbearing, and his internal force was exceptionally fierce. Yet Wang Chong's fan technique shifted unpredictably. Through brushing, turning, neutralizing, pushing, and deflecting, the spear was snared as if in a quagmire, completely unable to break through Wang Chong's diminutive folding fan.
The moment Wang Chong crossed hands with him, he felt a stark difference. Wen Zhengming could not exert anywhere near the pressure Qian Luo Yi or Nali Hai had brought to bear. In fact, he fell far short of Wen Ducheng's desperate, savage ferocity. Although Wen Zhengming's spear technique carried a sharp, deadly momentum, it truly deserved a single verdict: all flash and no substance. Wang Chong shoved his folding fan horizontally forward, wiping it down along the spear shaft.
Wen Zhengming had never expected this man's martial arts to be so formidable. Having lunged recklessly, his move had run its course, and he could not pull the spear back in time to prevent the enemy from closing the distance. Decisive in an instant, he let out a great shout, discarded the long spear, channeled his strength into both hands, and struck forward.
Wang Chong smiled faintly. Channeling the Nine-Headed Dragon King Aspect, Diamond Prajna Palm Strength, and Nine-Headed Fire Dragon Flash, he likewise struck out with a palm. Their palms collided head-on.
Separated by barely a few feet, almost face-to-face, Wen Zhengming's expression suddenly warped with horror. He let out a low snarl: "It's you..."
From the look in his eyes, Wang Chong deduced that this fellow surnamed Wen likely recognized him. It was just that he had smeared so much cosmetic powder over his face that the man had only recognized him upon drawing near. He hurried to ask, "Who am I?"
The palms met in complete silence. Wen Zhengming's eyes widened as if he had beheld something terrifying. He had never imagined that Wang Chong's palm strength would be even more domineering than his own. Waves of fiery force rolled forward incessantly, one surge after another like crashing tides. The internal force infused into his hands barely resisted three surges of the blazing fire energy before completely running dry. Inundated by the six subsequent waves of fiery force surging into his meridians, his body slumped into a limp heap on the ground. Blood sprayed from all seven orifices, leaving him unable to utter a single word in reply before expiring.
For the first time, Wang Chong regretted having such overly profound internal force and striking without leaving any margin. Had Wen Zhengming managed to cling to a single breath, he surely would have revealed his identity and origins.
Furious, Wang Chong kicked Wen Zhengming's head and cursed, "How could you be this weak?"
After venting his irritation, he reached down and searched the body for a while.
He managed to fish out only two trinkets: an emerald thumb ring and a small agate lion. Both items looked distinct and storied—far too hot to handle. He could only bear the sting of regret and stuff them back into the clothes. Sighing, he muttered to himself, "Why did you have to bring this upon yourself?"
Originally, he had merely come out to practice his martial arts, and Wen Zhengming had simply been passing by. Had the man not shot an arrow at him, Wang Chong would never have meddled in these jianghu disputes. Yet whatever environment this proud, vicious youth had been raised in, he had developed the foul habit of killing at the drop of a hat, only to end up dead here without a sound. Even knowing the fellow was not a good person, Wang Chong could not help but sigh softly.
As for the other dead men, Wang Chong was even less inclined to care. He did not even bother to loot their bodies. Tidying the area slightly, he set out to forge the illusion that both sides had engaged in a mutual slaughter, perishing together.
Indeed, he dragged all the corpses into a pile, stacked dry branches and firewood over them, and lit a fire.
If it was a gang-fire clash, then the pile had to be properly assembled to burn...
Wang Chong was even considerate enough to clear a firebreak to prevent the blaze from spreading. Only after the flames surged and engulfed everyone, and after laboriously tossing on several more armfuls of dry branches and wood, did he turn and stride away.
Before leaving, he did not forget to snap Wen Zhengming's bow several more times, tossing the fragments into the bonfire as well.
An engineering mind was built on rigorous logic; he lacked neither the craftsman's spirit nor the academic's eye for detail!
Upon returning to Pengshan County, Wang Chong mentioned the affair to no one. He did, however, give the jade pendant to Yu Zao, instructing her to personally deliver it to Su Luo Yan.
With Wang Dong away and Yu Zao off delivering the jade pendant, only Monk Xuan Gang, Nan Xinlan, and Tie Mingzhu remained in the courtyard. Wang Chong had assumed that once the "truth" was brought to light, Tie Mingzhu would leave, yet she had stayed the entire time. He had no justification to drive her away, either. After all, Tie Mingzhu had bright, expressive eyes and was a top-tier young beauty; keeping her around as eye candy was far more cost-effective than plastic anime figures, wasn't it? He had even entertained the thought of bringing in one more to complete a quartet of lovely maidservants, which would look far more symmetrical.
Though Wang Chong had been appointed by personal order of the Prince of Yan as the Director of the Tongzhou Department of the Ministry of Justice, concurrently serving as the Chief Constable of the Sixteen Prefectures of Tongzhou with overall charge of the White Chrysanthemum case, he possessed not the slightest zeal for investigating crimes.
His greatest initial worry had been Tie Mingzhu pointing him out, but now that the girl was staying comfortably in his home, ignoring fist forms to focus purely on practicing swordsmanship, and he was seventy to eighty percent certain he himself was no lecher, merely unluckily swept into the case, what motivation did he have left?
Over the next seven or eight days, Wang Chong spent his time discussing martial arts with Monk Xuan Gang, attempting to develop a martial art capable of concealing his identity.
After all, he would not have the luxury to set a leisurely fire after every kill. The next time he encountered someone like Wen Zhengming—someone who had to be killed, yet whose death could not be traced back to him—a martial art to conceal his identity would be an absolute necessity.
Monk Xuan Gang had no idea this was Wang Chong's intention. He only felt that this master had countless bizarre musings every day, a flood of terrible ideas, asking questions seemingly without aim that constantly struck the monk's martial blind spots. Unfortunately, his own Great Roaring Thunder Palm Technique was widely renowned, which held zero interest for Wang Chong, so Monk Xuan Gang was never able to offer a satisfactory idea.
On the ninth day, constables from several neighboring prefectures arrived together. Taking one look at their expressions, Wang Chong knew something major had occurred; these men had clearly reached their breaking point and were forced to swallow their pride to seek him out.
Before these constables could even speak, another visitor arrived...
...Wang Chong: What flower in the world is the most splendid? Peonies, herbaceous peonies, camellias, roses, China roses? Wrong, wrong, wrong—it is a single white chrysanthemum...
...White Chrysanthemum: Go ahead, keep blaming everything on me...
Chapter 60