Chapter Ninety-Seven: Invitation

Zhang Ning claimed to be Qin Guanlan, the name of the eldest senior brother, in order to keep Chen Zili living in constant unease. No matter how tenacious his mind might be, no matter how absurd his logic, no matter how righteous he believed betrayal to be and how little guilt he felt over it, once the true owner of the name’s senior brother came knocking, he would still feel a guilty pang. That was human instinct. Even if Chen Zili could endure it, the subordinates who knew the truth certainly could not.

Zhang Ning felt that the best person to appear at a time like this was precisely the eldest senior brother, Qin Guanlan. After all, he was a famed figure throughout the Tianqing Realm, and not to mention his reputation within the Great Freedom Heavenly Demon Sect itself. Since the day Zhang Ning had arrived in Tianqing Realm, he had heard mention of that man so often that his ears nearly grew calluses.

What sort of figure was their master, after all? If he himself descended into this little world, he could surely crush Chen Zili with a casual flick of the hand, without all this trouble. But given Zhang Ning’s current and rather extraordinary rise in cultivation, to appear under the guise of eldest senior brother Qin Guanlan was the most perfect and reasonable choice.

Because if Zhang Ning took revenge in his own name, it would make his senior brother Zhuge Yi seem somewhat overshadowed, and Zhang Ning had no wish for anyone to speak ill of Zhuge Yi. In the first place, Zhang Ning had come here without Third Senior Brother’s consent, stealing even his chance to avenge himself. How could that be allowed?

But the eldest brother is like a father. For Qin Guanlan to avenge his junior brother was entirely justified.

At the same time, Zhang Ning made up his mind that in the future, whether for his senior brothers or for any junior brothers and sisters that might come to be, if they ever needed him, he would stand up for them to the very end. And then, it would be under his own name.

On this day, Zhang Ning held an invitation in his hand and was not particularly surprised. A messenger, standing stiff as a post in front of him, looked as though delivering this invitation alone had placed immense pressure upon him.

On that invitation, gold dust had even been sprinkled across the paper. In bold characters it read: Seventh Day of the Seventh Month, by the Qinhuai Lake. The brushwork was sharp and domineering, enough to frighten the cowardly out of their wits at a glance.

But Zhang Ning felt nothing in particular, because he could only barely make out the contents of the invitation. It had been written in the script of the Tianqing Realm. Though he was now able to converse in the local tongue without much difficulty, reading the written characters was still rather troublesome, much less sensing the fierce intent hidden within them. Whatever thoughts Chen Zili had concealed, he had been casting his glance at a blind man.

Zhang Ning had no intention of saying more. He said coolly, “I will go.”

The messenger shuddered under Zhang Ning’s gaze, quickly bowed, and fled as though escaping for his life.

Once Zhang Ning could no longer see even a trace of him, he sneered and tore the invitation to shreds without the slightest grace.

“Bah! And you think you are fit to play this game? You filthy traitor!”

As it turned out, Zhang Ning’s not-so-subtle means had truly worked. This invitation was proof enough that Chen Zili had lost his composure.

And this was only a little over half a month after Zhang Ning had arrived in this small world. His name had already spread far and wide, and he had earned the nickname of the Bare-Handed Sword, Qin Guanlan. After all, though Zhang Ning had symbolically carried a sword, he only intended to use the techniques best suited to Zhuge Yi. He had no intention of actually drawing it.

But in the eyes of others, this naturally became proof that he was too disdainful to bother with a sword. Thus everyone said that perhaps only the Martial Alliance Leader, Chen Zili, was worthy of forcing this peerless swordsman to draw.

Half a month had passed, and it was hardly surprising that the martial alliance established by Chen Zili could discover Zhang Ning’s whereabouts. As for Chen Zili himself, he was after all a little boss of sorts, so not appearing in person was also within Zhang Ning’s expectations. Perhaps this, too, was Chen Zili applying pressure. But each used whatever methods he wished.

Three days later.

Seventh Day of the Seventh Month.

By Qinhuai Lake.

A loiterer, spittle flying as he spoke, sat before a tea stall and began gossiping about the great events of late. A crowd had gathered around him, all leaning in with their ears pricked, clearly very interested. The person he was speaking about was the newly emerged master who had been the talk of every street and alley lately: the Bare-Handed Sword, Qin Guanlan.

Everyone had heard of Qin Guanlan more than once already, but in the loiterer’s mouth, Qin Guanlan and the Martial Alliance Leader Chen Zili had long harbored enmity, and their conflict had begun over one of Chen Zili’s wives. Perhaps a few points of what he said happened to align with the truth by coincidence, but to the listeners it sounded like nothing more than nonsense and boasting.

After all, everyone had heard of Lady An. It was said she was jealous by nature and had a face like a demon’s. Alliance Leader Chen was a responsible man, and that was why he had married her. But how could she possibly play the role of the “femme fatale” in this story?

The crowd could not help but question the loiterer’s words. The loiterer, Wang Dazhuang, was immediately met with objections, and his face flushed red as he grew agitated.

“I’m telling you!” he said. “That Lady An was definitely a great beauty when she was young! She only ruined her face later! Otherwise, with such a venomous heart, how could she still have captivated the Bare-Handed Sword Qin Guanlan to the point of being unable to forget her, enough to make him fight with Alliance Leader Chen over her? Just imagine how beautiful she must have been back then!”

“You really know how to make excuses for yourself!”

“Exactly! Exactly!”

“Wang Dazhuang, looks like you aren’t lying this time. Where did you hear that bit of inside gossip?”

Though they were teasing him, the others had begun to believe Wang Dazhuang’s words somewhat. Hearing this, Wang Dazhuang could not help feeling recognized, and he happily slapped his belly.

“I’m telling you! Qin Guanlan is a once-in-a-generation figure as well. At such a young age he already reached master-level cultivation. But compared to Alliance Leader Chen, of course Alliance Leader Chen is still slightly stronger! It’s just that I wonder whether he knows when to submit. After being defeated, would he have the heart to follow Alliance Leader Chen? After all, Alliance Leader Chen…”

The people around Wang Dazhuang were whispering among themselves.

“The Bare-Handed Sword! The Bare-Handed Sword!”

Hearing that, Wang Dazhuang only assumed they were refuting him, and he grew somewhat anxious.

“Have you all gone stupid?! Alliance Leader Chen has roamed the martial world for years. Of course it has to be him who’s…”

At that moment, someone nearby suddenly cried out, “The Bare-Handed Sword!” and stared fixedly at the person behind Wang Dazhuang.

Only then did Wang Dazhuang finally understand what everyone had been talking about. He turned around and saw that over Qinhuai Lake, a figure in white robes with a sword at his waist was skimming across the water, like a blue warbler brushing the surface. And the direction he was heading was precisely the center of the lake.

The Qinhuai Tower in the middle of the lake was the very place where Qin Guanlan and Alliance Leader Chen were to settle this duel.

Wang Dazhuang suddenly understood. No one would dare go there dressed like that at a time like this. And yet that man possessed such extraordinary lightness skill—who else could it be? It must be the Bare-Handed Sword Qin Guanlan himself.

When Zhang Ning arrived at Qinhuai Tower, he saw a middle-aged man with regular features seated on a chair at the top floor. Though he held a long spear in his hand and exuded a fierce air, his posture was relaxed, as if he were waiting for some subordinate to come pay respects.

At once Zhang Ning sneered inwardly.

So arrogant? I can be even more arrogant than you.

He circulated his power and rose into the air, hovering a full head higher than Chen Zili, as if he were standing directly on top of the other man.

From all around came cries of shock, most of them calling out, “Suspended in midair, a grandmaster!”

On the opposite side, Chen Zili could no longer keep his expression calm. He drew in a deep breath.

“So it really is you! Qin Guanlan, the Ten-Thousand-Umbrella Demon Emperor!”

As soon as Chen Zili said those words, Zhang Ning had no more doubts.

This man was the traitor.