Chapter 59

The dim moonlight illuminated the two men.

The towering man with the tiger mask stood half in the moonlight and half in the shadows, staring at Zhang Jian. His eyes gleamed like those of a predator about to pounce on its prey. In contrast, Zhang Jian merely met his gaze with a cold, unreadable expression.

After a long moment of mutual staring, the masked man finally spoke.

"Zhang Jian. Second son of the Zhang family of Hunan. How many years have you been wandering in this new continent? Why have you come to Xinchashan? Just to meet your brother?"

In response to the question, Zhang Jian smiled slightly.

"Because my sister-in-law cooks well. I came to get a taste of her cooking. What number are you?"

"What number? No, I am not a member of the Dark Dragon Corps."

He took a step forward, revealing more of himself in the hazy moonlight.

"I am the one who gives orders to them. A loyal servant of His Majesty the Emperor in Zhongyuan."

"Ah, so you're not one of those corrupt guys from the Dark Dragon Corps, but a great imperial army?"

The masked man's eyes glinted fiercely.

"...Your tone is even more corrupt. Aren't you a subject of His Majesty the Emperor? How dare you speak so lightly of his authority?"

Zhang Jian tilted his head in confusion.

"What nonsense? You kidnap children and threaten innocent civilians who don't know martial arts, and you talk about authority?"

"Is this about the Shanghui Trading Company? He was merely upholding justice against a businessman who sought to monopolize for his own desires. If Zhouyue's monopoly had succeeded, many people in Xinchashan who make a living from transportation would have lost their livelihoods and ended up on the streets, begging. How could I, who live off the Emperor's salary, just stand by and watch the suffering of the people?"

Zhang Jian was momentarily speechless. The masked man's tone was calm and matter-of-fact, as if everything he had just said was natural and obvious.

"...So, did you cut off the fingers of a teenage girl?"

"The sins of the father are inherited by the children."

All expression vanished from Zhang Jian's face. He naturally grabbed the hilt of his sword with his left hand, took a step forward with his right foot, and turned his body. Then, he nodded at the masked man and said,

"Take off that mask. I already saw your face this afternoon."

The masked man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he smiled wryly. He slowly raised his hand and pulled off the mask. The face revealed beneath was Jian Wuying, the head of the Xinchashan Merchant Association, who had visited the Zhang family trading company that afternoon.

"You have good eyes. I even changed my voice."

"If I couldn't recognize you by your size and eyes, I'd be blind."

Jian Wuying put the mask away in his chest as he spoke.

"I'm disappointed. I wanted to learn a lot over dinner."

"I don't want to know. Did you invite me to separate me from the children?"

He shook his head.

"No. The original plan was not to act today. It was to be after Zhouyue left Xinchashan."

This meant that Zhang Jian did not recognize the Dark Dragon Corps. The dinner invitation was genuinely out of curiosity, and there was a real plan to kidnap the Zhang siblings.

Hearing this, Zhang Jian did not speak further. He simply let his right hand hang naturally and looked at Jian Wuying with a calm gaze. Jian Wuying's smile deepened as he faced him. He took another step forward, revealing himself fully under the faint moonlight. In his left hand, he held a sword, and at the same time, he pushed it out of the scabbard with his left thumb.

The unfinished pavilion where the two men stood was so quiet that not even the sound of the wind could be heard, while the noise of various people in the night market below faintly echoed.

From the vendors calling out to customers and the sizzling of food in iron pots, to the loud singing of drunkards, the plucking of the pipa and guqin from the brothels, the angry shouting of people fighting, the joyful laughter of those having fun, and the sobbing of those in deep sorrow, the sounds of the night market in Xinchashan, whether its raw or glamorous face, rose to the top of the unfinished pavilion, forming a faint background.

The sky was partially covered by thick clouds, hiding the moon and stars, while the noise of human affairs below was a complex cacophony. In the midst of this, the two men faced each other, their muscles tense, as if they were about to explode.

In the next moment, the people fighting in the night market pushed each other, overturning an iron pot, and the string of a guqin in a brothel snapped with a sharp twang. For a moment, the area around the brothel and the night market fell silent. Confused by the sudden quiet, people only resumed their laughter and chatter after figuring out the cause.

At that moment, Zhang Jian and Jian Wuying on the unfinished pavilion were facing each other with their backs turned.

Jian Wuying, still in the posture of extending his sword, spoke.

"Quite fast. Even the direct disciple of the Yilong Sword Master isn't at this level."

Zhang Jian, who was in a similar posture with his sword extended, did not answer. He glanced at his sword. The edge where it had just clashed was chipped, and a faint line of blood trickled down his right cheek.

The two men slowly relaxed their stances and turned to face each other. Jian Wuying smiled at the blood trickling down Zhang Jian's cheek. Then, Zhang Jian nodded at him.

Jian Wuying looked down at his chest after the nod and realized that his shirt had been torn open. His expression, which had been blank for a moment, soon turned into a thick smile. He looked at Zhang Jian with a face that was hard to tell if he was smiling or angry and spoke.

"However, there's one thing I don't understand, Zhang Jian."

"What?"

Zhang Jian, holding his sword with both hands and letting it hang, asked briefly. Jian Wuying, throwing the scabbard in his left hand to the side, continued.

"How did you find the Dark Dragon Corps No. 20 lying here? Or, how did you think of visiting the Zhou family trading company? No. 17, who infiltrated the Zhang family trading company, died with the poison in his mouth, leaving no connection. How did you find the Zhou family trading company?"

Zhang Jian was about to answer the question but closed his mouth again as scenes flashed through his mind.

The conflict between the Xinchashan Merchant Association and the Zhou family trading company, the fake nanny who committed suicide after being discovered while infiltrating the Zhang family trading company where Zhang Jian was, the patrol team member Jixi from the Wulin Alliance who came to investigate the incident, Yang Hong, who appeared out of nowhere in front of a blocked path and gave only fragmented information, the Dark Dragon Corps member who claimed to have just followed orders, and Jian Wuying, who was unaware of Yang Hong's actions, and his position as the head of the Xinchashan Merchant Association.

After a moment of organizing his thoughts, Zhang Jian chuckled and said,

"You guys are really a mess. The Emperor would be delighted to see this."

"…Daring to mention His Majesty like that. Are you not afraid of extermination?"

"Even if I don't know the Emperor well, I think you should be the one worried about extermination. You used the Emperor's intelligence network for personal gain."

Jian Wuying's smile disappeared. His expression confirmed that Zhang Jian's guess was correct.

The Dark Dragon Corps, which operated under the Emperor's edict, had been used by the undercover imperial army posing as the head of the Xinchashan Merchant Association for his own cover, specifically to protect the benefits he gained from that position. And the Dark Dragon Corps, having discovered this, were using Zhang Jian, Jixi, and the Wulin Alliance to deal with Jian Wuying.

"How did you find the Zhou family trading company? I didn't find it. Your subordinates told me."

"…I see. I was wondering how you found out about the infiltration. There was a traitor within the Dark Dragon Corps. Who is it? No. 3? Or No. 7?"

"How would I know with a guess like that?"

Zhang Jian, giving a vague answer, raised his sword and pointed it at Jian Wuying.

"Then, let me ask you something. The Zhou family trader interfered with your business, so that's understandable, but why did you target the Zhang family?"

"The Zhang family trading company, like Zhouyue, could use Zhongyuan's financial support to dominate the Xinchashan market."

"…Oh, really."

Zhang Jian burst out laughing at the immediate answer. Jian Wuying's words meant that the Zhang family trading company had the potential to grow into a threatening rival to the Xinchashan Merchant Association, so he intended to prevent it from taking root in Xinchashan from the beginning.

"After a brief conversation, I have a rough idea of what you do."

"Is that so? Then there's only one thing left."

Jian Wuying wiped his expression clean and glared at Zhang Jian with animal-like eyes, pointing his sword at him. The conversation ended, and the noise of the night market echoed again from the top of the unfinished pavilion.

The two men, who had been staring at each other like statues, suddenly lunged at each other, their swords and blades clashing as they passed each other. They immediately turned and clashed again, the sharp sound of metal on metal ringing out.

Jian Wuying's sword was fast and powerful. Although he didn't seem to be using his full strength, Zhang Jian felt a slight tremor in his palms as their blades clashed.

Unlike the new continent's martial artists, who often slow down and lose power after the first strike, Jian Wuying's sword seemed to become faster and stronger. The two blades scraped against each other, sending sparks flying.

Zhang Jian took a slight step back. Jian Wuying, seeing this as an opportunity, followed closely, swinging his sword. Zhang Jian crouched low at that moment. Behind him was a pillar of the pavilion. He expected Jian Wuying's sword to be blocked by the pillar, creating an opening.

However, in the next moment, Jian Wuying cut through the pillar without hesitation, and Zhang Jian had to defend against the rapid succession of strikes rather than attack. The blades clashed again, sending more sparks flying.

Jian Wuying continued to attack Zhang Jian, cutting through obstructive construction materials, pillars, and bamboo scaffolding with relentless force. The sheer strength and speed were such that even the demons Zhang Jian had encountered before seemed inferior in comparison.

The power coming from his large build and long limbs was not just brute strength but also a primal aura. Just as his mask depicted a tiger's mouth and his eyes resembled a tiger's, he seemed to have become a true predator, charging forward.

Amid the collapse of a bamboo scaffold, Jian Wuying glared at Zhang Jian with fierce eyes and swung his sword. The part of the pavilion that the sword's path touched was cut away.

After being on the defensive for a while, Zhang Jian suddenly swung his sword twice in quick succession, momentarily stopping Jian Wuying's sword and charge. Then, taking a short breath, he swung his sword with a flash. The shadow of the blade was threefold.

Jian Wuying's eyes widened at the three blades coming at him. But he quickly erased his surprise and grabbed the sword with both hands. At the same time, his sword and arms blurred.

With a loud noise, Zhang Jian stepped back. His eyes sank deeply. Jian Wuying had not distinguished between the real and the fake in the three illusory blades but had simply cut through all three with overwhelming internal energy and speed.

"Haha! An interesting trick!"

Jian Wuying, who had been enjoying the fight, shouted and struck straight down with his sword. It was a simple but powerful strike. Zhang Jian deflected it and immediately counterattacked. His blade, lacking the brute force of Jian Wuying, drew a sharp and straight line toward his neck, terrifyingly precise. Jian Wuying, gritting his teeth, raised his sword to block it.

Each strike the two swordsmen exchanged was lethal.

On the spacious pavilion, every attack, defense, and counterattack was critical. In front of Jian Wuying's beast-like martial arts, Zhang Jian split his illusory blade into four, infused his blade tip with a technique to shake the opponent's qi, and used the Wu Ying Bao to move stealthily between the shadows of his blade.

However, Jian Wuying blocked his attacks with boundless internal energy, swinging his sword even faster and stronger, and relentlessly pressed Zhang Jian with the same brute force and internal energy.

"You have many interesting tricks! The Grand Master of the Imperial Academy would be very pleased to see them! But in the end, tricks are just tricks! The one who ultimately wins is the one with stronger internal energy and a faster sword!"

Jian Wuying shouted and struck straight down again, as if daring Zhang Jian to block it. Zhang Jian deflected the sword but had to grit his teeth due to the heavy internal energy in the blade.

At the same time, he could feel Jian Wuying's face, with its flashing eyes and bared teeth, showing his excitement and confidence in his martial arts, close enough to feel his breath.

In that moment, Zhang Jian felt Jian Wuying's face was disgusting and headbutted him.

"Ouch!"

Jian Wuying, clutching his nose, stepped back to avoid Zhang Jian's follow-up attack. From a distance, he removed his hand and saw the blood, his face contorting in anger.

"You little brat!"

Unlike Jian Wuying, who stepped back, Zhang Jian stood firm, holding his sword with both hands and catching his breath. Blood from his split forehead mixed with Jian Wuying's and trickled down, but it was not important to him at the moment.

A faster sword. Stronger internal energy.

These were the core martial arts principles of the imperial army, embodying practicality and dominance. For a thousand years, the empire had conquered Zhongyuan and pacified the world through such martial arts. Naturally, martial arts that deviated from these principles were deemed inefficient and useless, leading to their decline.

The martial arts of the imperial army, which dominated the world, could be considered correct. Other methods were unnecessary, and drawing plum blossoms or taiji with a sword were all nonsense. Only stronger internal energy and power were the essence of martial arts.

Zhang Jian could also do this. He could use martial arts faster and stronger than his opponent. He had taken a good medicinal herb the day before, so his internal energy was abundant, and he could load it heavily onto his sword and strike brutally like Jian Wuying.

But was this really martial arts? Could he claim to cultivate through martial arts?

To Zhang Jian, martial arts were ultimately tools to maximize human potential. Beyond moving faster and exerting more strength, they could protect others' minds with sound, redirect a thousand-pound opponent with a small force, run farther, step on air to fly, hear distant sounds, and transmit one's voice to specific individuals.

Martial arts amplified what would have been insignificant possibilities several to dozens of times, creating new phenomena.

To Zhang Jian, martial arts were such things. In comparison, being merely faster and stronger was just the basics.

"Hmm, you seem to be running out of strength, Zhang Jian. Well, for a martial artist who hasn't received training from the imperial army or a family, you fought quite well. Even the descendants of the demon clans are rare at your level."

Jian Wuying, adjusting his misaligned nose and wiping the blood, said this. Seeing Zhang Jian catching his breath, he thought he was tired.

Focusing on the response, Zhang Jian looked at him and smiled.

"…Tiger. Tiger. That's good."

"What?"

Zhang Jian shook his sword once and held it with one hand at the middle. Seeing this, Jian Wuying tilted his head and then crouched, readying his sword.

At that moment, Zhang Jian's sword hummed.

"…What is it?"

Seeing the humming, trembling sword, Jian Wuying showed his confusion. A trembling sword was a sign of insufficient concentration of internal energy. But Zhang Jian did not respond, and Jian Wuying, thinking he was tired, smiled.

"Well, your internal energy is running out…"

But Jian Wuying's expression soon changed. The humming sound from Zhang Jian's sword gradually lowered, becoming so faint that it disappeared completely.

Jian Wuying felt an inexplicable sense of unease. He heard a ringing in his ears, and his legs felt numb. Strangely, despite the silence, Zhang Jian's sword was still trembling.

Then, Zhang Jian stomped the ground with a loud thud.

"Whoa…"

The loud vibration made Jian Wuying almost kneel involuntarily.