Toughness

In the front courtyard of Canglong Temple, corpses were laid out one after another. After baking under the harsh sun, the bodies reeked of a thick, rancid stench, while swarms of flies and gnats buzzed wildly over them. Zhang Yunfeng, a battalion commander of the Pacification Office, held his breath as he carefully examined the wounds on the corpses. His gaze finally settled on a severed head; the man's eyes remained wide open in death, filled with a wash of blood-red. What struck him was the smoothness of the cut—the sword strike that took this head had been extraordinarily fast and vicious! Zhang Yunfeng turned toward Daoist Yizhen and said, "The Daoist masters of the branch abbey possess remarkable skill. Wiping out over fifty rogue soldiers is quite a meritorious deed!" Daoist Yizhen appeared in his forties, wearing a red-bronze star cap. His facial features were upright, his eyes glowing with vibrant light. Dressed in a bright yellow star-patterned Daoist robe, he held a horsetail whisk in his hand and carried a long sword at his waist. As the Hall Master of Yunlong Branch Abbey, Yizhen was not only a rank-six Master of Refinement, but his swordsmanship and martial arts had both reached the rank-seven level, making him fully worthy of being called the foremost combat expert of the branch abbey. His arrival at Canglong Temple this time was also to back his disciple, Wuzheng. Hearing Zhang Yunfeng's words, Yizhen said calmly, "This temple is a sacred site dedicated to the Northern Emperor. Naturally protected by the Northern Emperor, it is impervious to all evil. "These scoundrels invading our temple were merely courting their own destruction." In truth, Daoist Yizhen was also quite surprised that Wuzheng and the others had slain so many rogue soldiers, but before a battalion commander of the Pacification Office, he could not allow the prestige of the Arctic Sect to waver. Zhang Yunfeng cupped his hands. "I stand enlightened." Platoon Commander Wu Di, Zhang family head Zhang Xinhu, Li family head Li Cheng'an, and Flying Eagle Martial Arts School master Yang Shuling—these rank-seven martial artists of Siming County—all nodded in agreement. Whatever their private thoughts, at this moment they had to show respect to Yizhen. Zhang Xinhu and Wu Di discreetly exchanged a glance. Both were immensely shocked. Wang Qi was a rank-seven martial artist forged in the military; his position as a brigade commander had been carved out in blood! To think that such an expert, leading fifty fully armed soldiers, had been completely wiped out by Canglong Temple. Could casting spells inside a Daoist temple truly be this potent?! They all knew that a temple could augment the power of spells, but they had never possessed a concrete sense of it. Looking at the corpses, every single one bore marks of being scorched by thunder arts. After this battle, they felt several degrees more genuine reverence toward Daoist temples. The supernatural ways of the Daoist sects truly could not be underestimated! Still, fierce combat must have taken place here as well. Some had clearly fallen to the sword. Yet it remained unclear how much fighting strength those struck by thunder arts had actually retained. Li Cheng'an and Yang Shuling also looked solemn. The combat prowess demonstrated by Canglong Temple was terrifying, imposing immense pressure on both of them. Daoist Yizhen took in everyone's expressions clearly and felt rather pleased. Wuzheng had done a magnificent job this time, letting these local country magnates witness the might of the branch abbey. He said to Wuzheng, "Wiping out the rebel soldiers this time—you did very well." Somewhat abashed, Wuzheng replied, "It is entirely thanks to the Northern Emperor's blessing. Junior Brother Wuji also rendered great service by slaying the rebel leader, for which he was severely wounded." This was what he and Zhou Wuji had agreed upon beforehand. Zhou Wuji did not want to show too much of his edge, so Wuzheng did not mention that Zhou Wuji had turned the tide and borne the lion's share of the credit. "How badly is Wuji injured?" Yizhen remembered Zhou Wuji. When this disciple received transmission of the register, he had gained the Northern Emperor's blessing—a fact known to everyone among the upper echelons of the branch abbey. Afterward, he had repeatedly slain rebel soldiers, his momentum soaring. The Abbot also held Zhou Wuji in high regard; before Yizhen departed on this trip, the Abbot had formally entrusted him to look after Zhou Wuji. "His life is in no danger, but his ribs are broken, and we haven't found a doctor capable of setting the bones yet." Wuzheng looked somewhat troubled as he spoke of this. Setting bones was not difficult in itself, but with over a dozen broken and splintered ribs across Zhou Wuji's chest, realigning them one by one in such a sensitive area was exceedingly tricky. A small place like Siming County clearly lacked a physician of that caliber. Daoist Yizhen was well versed in medicine, but setting bones was not his specialty. Pondering for a moment, he said, "We can only send him back to Yunyang Prefecture first to find a renowned doctor." Yang Shuling, master of the Flying Eagle Martial Arts School, suddenly spoke up: "I specialize in bone-setting. If the Daoist master does not mind, I can give it a try." Yizhen glanced at Yang Shuling. The old man had snow-white hair and beard and wore a black robe, looking hale, hearty, and capable. Yizhen smiled and said, "I did not know Master Yang possessed such marvelous skill. In that case, I shall trouble you." It was the first time Daoist Yizhen and Yang Shuling had met, but Yizhen believed that at Yang Shuling's age, he was bound to be a prudent man who would not speak carelessly without a degree of certainty. Furthermore, everyone present was an expert from various factions, including a battalion commander and platoon commander from the Pacification Office. If Yang Shuling botched it, he would lose tremendous face. The group proceeded to the rear courtyard, where two disciples had already carried Zhou Wuji on a cushioned chair into the main reception hall. The morning sunlight reflected in through the doorway, and together with the open windows on both sides, the hall was filled with bright light. When the crowd entered, all eyes landed on Zhou Wuji in the cushioned chair. Zhou Wuji nodded slightly to the crowd in greeting. "I am heavily injured and cannot salute properly. Hall Master, gentlemen, please do not take offense." Daoist Yizhen smiled. "You speak too distantly. To say nothing of myself, how could any of these gentlemen take issue with a junior?" Zhang Yunfeng also nodded and said, "The Daoist master suffered severe injuries to eliminate the rebels. Such supreme valor earns our utmost admiration; how could we mind such trifles...?" As a battalion commander of the Pacification Office, Zhang Yunfeng carried himself with grace and poise when dealing with others, entirely different from Platoon Commander Wu Di's wretched and sinister demeanor. Most of the group nodded along, while a few voiced their agreement. Zhang Xinhu stood to one side, glaring coldly at Zhou Wuji, his eyes fixed on the youth's swollen yet visibly sunken chest. Having suffered at Zhou Wuji's hands several times, Zhang Xinhu was deeply wary of him. Even seeing him look half-dead, Zhang Xinhu remained suspicious. Wuzheng stepped forward and explained the situation to Zhou Wuji, who promptly expressed his thanks to Yang Shuling. Zhou Wuji did not particularly trust Yang Shuling, but he believed that in the presence of Daoist Yizhen, even a Pacification Office battalion commander would not dare act recklessly, let alone a rank-seven martial artist who ran a local martial arts school in Siming County. Even if Yang Shuling was unafraid of death, his entire family lived in Siming County—were they all tired of living as well? Yang Shuling exchanged a few polite pleasantries, then stepped over and unfastened Zhou Wuji's Daoist robe to expose his chest. This time, everyone saw it clearly: Zhou Wuji's chest was a swollen expanse of purplish-black, terrifying to behold. At the sight, Yang Shuling could not help but frown. Zhou Wuji's injury was far more severe than he had anticipated. He pressed lightly with his hand, sinking an indentation into Zhou Wuji's chest. Those present were all sharp-eyed; every one of them could tell that countless ribs were broken, so much so that they could no longer provide stable support. Even the suspicious Zhang Xinhu could now confirm that Zhou Wuji was indeed grievously injured. Even if the Arctic Sect possessed miraculous elixirs, Zhou Wuji could forget about moving normally for at least two to three months. Yang Shuling said to Zhou Wuji, "Bear with the pain, Daoist Master. I will set the bones in place for you." Having painstakingly cultivated Eagle Claw Force for fifty years, he was a master at displacing tendons and misaligning bones, and was naturally skilled at setting them as well. Working through the swollen skin and muscle, Yang Shuling relied on the power of his ten fingers to realign Zhou Wuji's broken bones one by one. The pain was excruciating. Zhou Wuji gritted his teeth without uttering a sound, but his face turned ghastly pale, cold sweat dripping from his brow... All present were experienced individuals who knew that the agony of resetting broken bones was beyond ordinary endurance. What was more, Zhou Wuji had so many shattered bones, yet he did not make a single peep from start to finish. Everyone could not help but admire his toughness. Standing to the side, Wuming watched with tearful eyes, on the verge of weeping... While the others paid no heed to this charming female Daoist, Yizhen noticed her clearly. Though his expression remained impassive, his mood soured. No matter how much Zhang Xinhu detested Zhou Wuji, he had to admit the lad was ruthless—no wonder he was so hard to kill. His heart weighed heavy as well. If Zhou Wuji were allowed to heal from his injuries, dealing with him would become even harder! Right now was the golden opportunity to kill the brat! At this thought, Zhang Xinhu lowered his eyes to mask the murderous intent in his heart... Yet Daoist Yizhen seemed to sense something. Turning sideways, he looked coldly at Zhang Xinhu and said, "Mr. Zhang, the branch abbey has already reached a conclusion regarding your son's matter. Wuji acted impartially in accordance with duty. Do you have an objection?" Zhang Xinhu's face darkened, his hands tucked inside his sleeves involuntarily clenching into fists.