At noon, the Daoist acolyte Shangxin came by to deliver Zhou Wuji's meal.
Though only seventeen this year, Shangxin was built big and burly, his dark yellow skin paired with a thick layer of fuzz already covering his upper lip. From his outward appearance, he looked like a man of thirty; only when he spoke could one catch a hint of adolescent boyishness in his voice.
Shangxin held great admiration for Zhou Wuji. Seeing that Zhou Wuji had trouble moving around, he even volunteered to spoon-feed him.
"Never mind. Since it's inconvenient for me to move, I'll just take inedia pills for now. There's no need to trouble yourself."
Zhou Wuji knew Shangxin meant well, but he found it hard to stomach the thought of a hulking youth feeding him; besides, there was simply no necessity for it.
Disappointed that he could not be of help, yet not daring to disobey Zhou Wuji's wishes, Shangxin could only glumly agree. Lifting the food container, he said, "Martial Uncle, just call for me if you need anything. I'll be right in the next room. Master said I'm to attend exclusively to you during this period."
"Mm. Your master chose you for this task precisely because he knows you're the most attentive and capable. Thank you for your trouble."
Zhou Wuji found Shangxin a bit simple, but he had a good temperament. While he might lack clever tact in waiting on others, he was hardworking and reliable. He gave the youth a few encouraging words and bade him not to disturb his quiet cultivation unless something arose.
Shangxin was obedient. Once he went out and pulled the door shut, he did not disturb him again.
In the afternoon, the weather remained somewhat sweltering. As Zhou Wuji lay in bed, drowsy and half-asleep, a clamor of voices reached him from outside. Shangxin hurried over with word that Li Cheng'an, patriarch of the Li family, had come to pay a visit.
Zhou Wuji had seen Li Cheng'an yesterday. The Li patriarch had taken the initiative to exchange pleasantries with him then, his attitude exceedingly polite. He had not expected Li Cheng'an to return today.
Before long, Wuzheng ushered Li Cheng'an and Li Ruyi into the room. Wuzheng knew Li Cheng'an had business with Zhou Wuji, but, wary that the Li family might try some trick, he accompanied them to keep watch.
Li Cheng'an had met Zhou Wuji before, though back then Zhou Wuji had always followed Daoist Yiyuan around; in his eyes, Zhou Wuji had seemed merely an amiable young man. When his daughter told him that Zhou Wuji had killed Zhang Wuding and Fang Wuzhen, Li Cheng'an had been genuinely shocked, but also delighted.
Zhang Wuding had been the foremost expert among the younger generation, with high hopes of advancing to Rank 7. For the Zhang family to lose such a gifted and capable direct descendant was a devastating blow. The events that followed left him even more flabbergasted. Zhou Wuji was as if possessed by his late master, displaying peerless swordsmanship and slaughtering wave after wave of rogue soldiers.
Particularly in the battle at Canglong Temple, at least half of the rogue soldiers had fallen to Zhou Wuji's blade. Even that formidable Rank 7 martial artist had been decapitated by a single stroke of Zhou Wuji's sword. Even with Wuzheng employing the Yin Thunder art, such a feat of arms was utterly terrifying.
Li Cheng'an harbored no ulterior motives in coming today—he had come simply to give Zhou Wuji money. First was the sum owed for the suits of armor, and second, because Zhou Wuji had rescued the villagers of Laocang Village, he had to make a proper gesture.
"Thanks to the temple master and Daoist Zhou lending a hand, the villagers of Laocang Village were able to return home safely."
Li Cheng'an produced a small wooden box and set it on the bed. Smiling, he said, "This is a modest token of my family's regard. Daoist Zhou, please, don't be polite."
Zhou Wuji replied, "Master Li is far too courteous..."
His voice lacked vigor, making him sound frail and drained.
Li Cheng'an was tactful enough to take the hint, exchanging a few more words before excusing himself. Li Ruyi had remained silent throughout. Before leaving, she bowed deeply to Zhou Wuji and whispered, "Zhang Xinhu didn't head into the mountains. Martial Brother, you must still be on your guard against him."
Having seen off Li Cheng'an and his daughter, Wuzheng returned to chat with Zhou Wuji for a while.
"Iron Clothes Guard Centurion Zhang Yunfeng pleaded on Zhang Xinhu's behalf, claiming that Zhang Xinhu belongs to a collateral branch of the Zhang family. Since this touches upon the Chunan Zhang family, Master couldn't be too unyielding either..."
Wuzheng deeply admired Zhou Wuji's swordsmanship and character. After fighting alongside him through several bloody battles, Zhou Wuji had already become his closest friend. As this matter was intimately tied to Zhou Wuji, even if his master did not wish to speak of it, Wuzheng felt compelled to lay out the stakes clearly.
Zhou Wuji nodded slightly. "Thank you for clearing that up, Martial Brother. Since it involves the Zhang family, we truly must proceed with caution."
Though he had stayed in Siming County his whole life, he had heard plenty about the illustrious Chunan Zhang family. It was no exaggeration to say that within Chu Prefecture, the Zhang family wielded greater power and prestige than the imperial throne itself. A commandery clan with a thousand years of heritage was truly nothing to scoff at.
It was only natural that Zhang Xinhu had ties to the Chunan Zhang family. Most people surnamed Zhang in Chu Prefecture could claim some remote connection to the clan; the crucial question was merely how close that relation was.
"Zhang Xinhu won't dare cause us trouble again. Just focus on resting and recovering with an easy mind, Junior Brother; I'll handle matters on the outside..."
In truth, Wuzheng harbored deep hatred for Zhang Xinhu as well, but with so much on the line, he could only endure. Zhou Wuji was gravely injured, and he did not want him fretting over it.
"I appreciate your trouble, Senior Brother. I will take this time to heal properly." Though Zhou Wuji had set his mind on killing Zhang Xinhu, he would never speak of this to Wuzheng. It was not that he distrusted Wuzheng, but rather that there was no reason to drag him into it.
Only after Wuzheng left did Zhou Wuji open the wooden box to look inside: ten gold patties weighing ten liang each. One hundred liang of gold. Deducting the four hundred liang of silver owed, the Li family had added an extra sixty liang of gold—quite a lavish gesture. He took the money with a clear conscience!
As it turned out, another visitor arrived that afternoon. Fang Yue, patriarch of the Fang family, paid a call. This plump middle-aged man carried himself with great humility, claiming he had failed in raising his son and begging Zhou Wuji not to hold a grudge. Fang Yue also presented a hundred liang of gold, entreating Zhou Wuji to accept it.
Zhou Wuji did not stand on ceremony either, accepting the gold with composure. Fang Wuzhen had tried to murder him back then and was killed in retaliation; Zhou Wuji had nothing to feel guilty about. If scores were to be settled, it was the Fang family that owed him.
Fang Yue was equally relieved. Since Zhou Wuji had accepted the money, the past had surely been wiped clean. His goal accomplished, Fang Yue promptly rose and took his leave...
Wuzheng looked down somewhat on Fang Yue, finding the man slick and worldly. Still, he saw no need to press the Fang family further, and resolving the matter like this was just as well.
That night, listening to Shangxin's even breathing from next door, Zhou Wuji knew the boy was fast asleep.
He first cast three Rejuvenation Techniques on himself, points of gleaming green light sinking into his chest. He could distinctly feel his broken bones knitting and mending, though the newly joined bone remained fragile. Pushed to full strength, the Rejuvenation Techniques cost him about thirty days of lifespan, but the results were instantaneous. Using the Rejuvenation Technique to heal as much as possible first was meant to conserve the spiritual efficacy of the Primordial Profound Essence.
Only then did Zhou Wuji open the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment and convert the three-liang-eight-qian tiger demon into Primordial Profound Essence.
A dense emerald light descended, and a warm current surged within Zhou Wuji's body. Flowing top to bottom and inside out, it circulated repeatedly until the very last trace of warmth melded completely into his flesh. Looking back at the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, Zhou Wuji saw his Physique had reached three hundred and seven—a full fifty-seven points higher.
He reached up and pressed against his chest. It felt firm and robust; the fractured bones were completely healed and, what was more, sturdier and more resilient than before.
A Rank 7 tiger demon was truly extraordinary!
Zhou Wuji drew his sword, feeling it had grown lighter by a fraction. Fortunately, his Xiaoxiang Sword had already entered the realm of Perfection, so the changes in his body served only to greatly enhance his swordsmanship.
Having been forced to cleave through heavy armor in battle, the Seven Stars Sword's blade showed noticeable wear. There had been no avoiding it. He fetched the robe and mask obtained from the Yin-Yang Dao demonic cultivator. The demonic cultivator had been a tall man, so while the robe was slightly loose on him, it fit well enough. He changed into leather boots, which would make traveling easier and help conceal his identity.
Finally, Zhou Wuji donned a conical bamboo hat, covering himself thoroughly from head to toe without baring an inch of skin. The bamboo hat was of a common style without any distinctive markings, so even if someone saw him, it would draw no suspicion.
After some thought, Zhou Wuji decided against using the Seven Stars Sword. That blade had slain many, and the marks left by its edge had been witnessed by far too many eyes. A true expert could identify the sword just by looking at the wounds it dealt.
He had also taken a sword from the Yin-Yang Dao demonic cultivator—a three-and-a-half-chi longsword forged from hundred-refined steel, which would suffice for his purposes.
With his swordsmanship having attained Perfection and his true qi reaching Rank 7, Zhou Wuji was confident he could soundly defeat Zhang Xinhu. Meeting Zhang Xinhu face-to-face yesterday had only solidified his judgment. A powerful divine sense combined with his comprehension of sword intent allowed him to perceive changes in others' qi and mental state with far greater acuity. Seeing Zhang Xinhu again this time, even though Zhou Wuji had been severely wounded, he had felt none of the overwhelming oppression of their previous encounter.
The root lay in his swordsmanship entering Perfection; with his divine sense transformed into sword intent, he could channel his true qi with finer precision and greater efficiency. With a sword in hand, he would not falter against any Rank 7 expert. With the boost from the Primordial Profound Essence enhancing his physique by nearly a quarter, his odds of victory grew even higher.
Zhou Wuji slipped quietly out of his room and lightly vaulted over the wall, leaving the Daoist temple behind.
After walking along the mountain trail for a time, Zhou Wuji looked up at the heavy, dark clouds veiling the bright moon and caught the faint flicker of lightning. The night wind was blowing harder now.
Beneath the mantle of dark clouds, the county seat of Siming appeared all the more deep, dark, and silent. Zhou Wuji felt an instinct stir within him, knowing a torrential downpour was on its way.
And within his heart, his murderous intent only swelled...
Chapter 59