Zhou Wuji seized the final moments to exchange a few mocking words with Zhang Xinhu, feeling immensely satisfied and thoroughly fulfilled.
The man had hired assassins to take his life several times, leaving a knot of stifled fury trapped in his chest. Now that he had finally exhaled that foul breath, he felt completely at ease.
His entire body felt unobstructed and light, as though he might take flight at any moment.
He knew this was not entirely noble behavior, but fortunate for him, he was no saint to begin with. Unshackled by moral qualms, his conscience was utterly free of burden.
The poem he had improvised on the spot was not strictly composed, yet it possessed a certain flair and charm.
It was just a pity he could not scrawl it across the wall for the world to admire and read. A pity, a pity, a pity... truly casting pearls before swine!
As for the deceased Zhang Xinhu, he naturally had to be gathered up into the Five Yin Pouch.
A disappearance was far better than leaving a corpse behind.
Even if various factions harbored suspicions, they would be unable to untangle the truth right away and would gradually come to accept the outcome as time passed.
If he left the corpse here, Centurion Zhang Yunfeng would very likely seize upon the matter and refuse to let it go.
Platoon Commander Wu Di would also have an excuse to stir up trouble.
It was somewhat regrettable that Wu Di had followed the centurion into the mountains; otherwise, Zhou Wuji could have dealt with him this time as well.
Zhou Wuji’s gaze fell upon the Five Tigers Painting. Each of the five tigers possessed its own distinctive aura and spirit, showing clearly that this painting was no ordinary work.
There was also that long saber resting on the table—encased in an ebony scabbard with an elongated hilt, its profile resembling a goose-feather saber.
Drawing the weapon to inspect it, he found the blade measured three chi seven cun, while the hilt spanned one chi three cun.
It had a straight spine, with the tip canted slightly upward and a false edge about a chi in length.
The blade shone dazzlingly bright, displaying beautiful layers of watered-steel patterns. The straight hilt was counterweighted with polished specialty metal and wrapped in long black cord to form a grip.
Zhou Wuji gave it a gentle swing. The saber was remarkably heavy—he estimated at least sixteen or seventeen jin—yet its balance was superb. The swings felt smooth and comfortable, and the reverse edge at the tip made it exceptionally well suited for thrusts.
He flicked his finger against the steel. The blade emitted a low, crisp hum, indicating the casting material possessed extraordinary density, ensuring both hardness and resilience.
"What a fine saber. It's vastly superior to the Seven Stars Sword."
Though Zhou Wuji was no connoisseur of blades, he could tell this weapon’s quality was extraordinary, far surpassing the Seven Stars Sword.
However, it contained no embedded talismans, bore no martial artist's divine intent, and showed no nicks or signs of hacking on its edge. It was a pristine, unused blade.
Engraved upon the hilt were two characters: *Tiger Wing*. That was likely the name of the saber.
Without standing on ceremony, Zhou Wuji accepted the gift and stored the saber in the Five Yin Pouch.
There was also a manual on the table. Leafing through it, he found it was none other than the Five Tigers Fist Scripture.
Densely written in tiny script, the volume contained well over a hundred thousand words, accompanied by detailed illustrations of human figures practicing the fist forms.
However, the text contained many obscure terms, which were likely cant passed down within Zhang Xinhu's martial lineage.
This was done precisely to prevent the scripture from being understood if it fell into outside hands, ensuring that no outsider could grasp the core essence of the fist techniques.
After stowing the fist scripture and the Five Tigers Painting, Zhou Wuji’s gaze shifted to the Sunlight Beads nestled high in the corners of the walls. A single bead was worth at least a hundred liang of gold.
If he pried them loose, anyone inspecting the room would instantly know something was amiss.
Then again, since he was already taking the saber and the scripture, two beads would hardly make a difference.
Quickly convincing himself, he pried down both Sunlight Beads, packed them into the Five Yin Pouch, and carried them off.
Zhou Wuji surveyed the room, finding no bloodstains or footprints.
A torrential downpour raged outside, but the Yin-Yang Dharma Robe repelled the rain. When entering, Zhou Wuji had wrapped his boots in true qi precisely to avoid leaving footprints.
As for the few stray water droplets left behind, they would evaporate and dissipate shortly. Even if someone spotted them, it would mean nothing.
Confirming he had overlooked nothing, Zhou Wuji closed the door securely and turned to leave.
The raging storm drowned out all noise, and no one in the Zhang family would ever imagine that their premier expert, Zhang Xinhu, could meet with disaster.
Guided by his Six Yang Dharma Eyes, Zhou Wuji saw clearly through the dark and detected the distinct auras of life around him, allowing him to slip away from the Zhang estate without making a sound...
An hour later, Zhou Wuji had already returned to Canglong Temple.
The storm had arrived suddenly and departed just as swiftly; by now, the rain had long since ceased.
Entering the Daoist temple, Zhou Wuji used the Five Yin Pouch to retrieve a pile of firewood, two jars of kerosene, and a hoe.
Venturing more than twenty li deep into the Siming Mountains, Zhou Wuji located a natural pit, dug it a bit deeper, and placed Zhang Xinhu inside.
With a generous heap of firewood and two jars of kerosene, he reduced Zhang Xinhu entirely to ash.
The Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment had utterly wiped out Zhang Xinhu's spiritual essence and divine soul. Even if a Celestial Master came in person, they would never be able to identify whom these charred bone fragments belonged to.
To Zhou Wuji's surprise, although Zhang Xinhu had turned to ashes, he left behind a thin gold leaf.
Zhou Wuji was not entirely certain of its composition. It looked like gold leaf, but its actual material had to be extraordinary to withstand the fire unharmed.
The gold leaf was covered in cramped writing, all of which consisted of annotations concerning the Five Tigers Fist Scripture.
Understanding dawned on him: this gold leaf was an integral part of the fist manual. To cultivate the technique, one needed to cross-reference both texts alongside the Five Tigers visualization painting.
Zhang Xinhu had likely sewn the gold leaf into his clothing, hiding it with great secrecy. Only after the flames consumed the fabric was it revealed.
Keeping the three elements separated was designed precisely to prevent outsiders from mastering the Five Tigers Fist.
Zhou Wuji sighed in quiet amusement. Zhang Xinhu had calculated meticulously, but human calculation could never outmatch the decree of heaven—in the end, every single piece had fallen into his hands.
After burying all traces, Zhou Wuji slipped quietly back into Canglong Temple.
Changing his clothes, he carefully bound his bamboo splints back in place.
Regardless of whether anyone investigated, appearances still had to be maintained.
In the adjacent room, Shangxin slept soundly. Adolescents were always in need of sleep, and Zhou Wuji had lit calming incense for him, more than enough to keep him slumbering until daybreak.
Having accomplished a major feat and removed a thorn from his side, Zhou Wuji was in extraordinarily good spirits. Even after circulating his true qi for a full one hundred and eight cycles, he felt not the slightest bit drowsy.
Lying there awake with nothing to do, Zhou Wuji simply took out the Five Tigers Fist Scripture and the gold leaf, activating his Six Yang Dharma Eyes to cross-reference and study them in the dark.
With his potent mental power, a single reading was enough to commit most of it to memory.
After going through it three times, Zhou Wuji had memorized every character and every illustrated line.
With this foundation, examining the Five Tigers Painting again allowed him to comprehend the meaning behind the five beasts.
The five tigers were rendered with remarkable vigor: the iron tiger fierce and bold, the black tiger robust and mighty, the flying tiger swift and agile, the heart tiger deep and guarded, and the white tiger chill and deadly.
After contemplating the Five Tigers Painting for a while, Zhou Wuji gained considerable insight.
He felt that he could cultivate the Five Tigers Fist, practicing both Daoist magic and martial arts simultaneously.
Martial artists possessed their own cultivation systems and qi-refining methods, vastly different from Daoist secret arts.
Ordinary mortals had limited talent and energy; achieving success along a single path of cultivation was already arduous enough, leaving neither time nor strength to pursue dual paths.
For common Daoists, merely practicing their sect's sword styles and martial skills consumed immense effort; undertaking martial arts of the martial path was out of the question.
Daoist Yiyuan had spoken of the dual cultivation of martial arts and Daoist magic long ago. Back then, Zhou Wuji had merely listened in passing, but now that his cultivation had advanced by leaps and bounds, he had developed his own understanding of the matter.
The Five Tigers Fist had its own qi-refining methods. Once reaching Rank 6, condensing a sea of qi through the Five Tigers Fist might well conflict with the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture.
Yet he had no need to push it that far. So long as he brought the Five Tigers Fist to the Rank 7 level of Transforming Jin, it would immensely bolster his physical body and patch up his greatest current weakness.
The Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture was profound and sublime, more than capable of integrating the Five Tigers Fist. The Five Tigers Fist, in turn, could further augment the might of the Xiaoxiang Sword.
He held a vast amount of primordial profound spirit that served little purpose sitting idle, which was perfect for cultivating the Five Tigers Fist.
A Rank 7 Daoist combined with a Rank 7 martial artist would be an unstoppable force at Rank 7, and he would not fear confronting Rank 6 opponents either!
Chapter 61