Chapter 23: I, Hong Yuan, Am A Man Of My Word
Sternum shattered,
Neck roasted like hot coals,
Right palm pierced again by the long saber, blood gushing out.
Even though Meng Yue had experienced many battles and been injured numerous times, at this moment his face was twisted in pain, mouth open as if to let out a heart-wrenching howl.
Pfft!
A big foot pressed down, stepping on Meng Yue’s chest. With a slight push, it choked off the roar that was about to burst from Meng Yue’s throat.
Meng Yue’s throat bobbed, his eyes on the verge of rolling back.
Hong Yuan eased up a bit and said warmly, “Junior Brother, you’re a tough guy. A minor injury like this can be fixed with some hot water. No need to shout and scream—don’t make your senior brother look down on you.”
Meng Yue’s hair was tangled with the scalding charcoal, sizzling and emitting wisps of white smoke. His neck was even roasted to a fragrant char.
His face was ferocious, his body twitching nonstop from the intense pain. He gritted his teeth, eyes bloodshot as he glared at Hong Yuan, a mix of fear, hatred, and pleading in his gaze.
Hong Yuan met his gaze for a moment, and when Meng Yue could no longer endure it and wanted to howl, another kick dispersed his breath.
This time, however, Hong Yuan took a sip of knife, flicking the brazier and charcoal away. Then he smiled and looked at Meng Yue’s ashen, paper-white face.
“Junior Brother, tell me, why did you want to kill me? And…” Hong Yuan’s gaze shifted to the ruffians in the room—some dead, some drunk, some trembling—”who are these people?”
“They are Yan Laosan’s men from the wharf. I hired them to deal with you. As for why I wanted to kill you? Isn’t that obvious?” Meng Yue’s voice was hoarse and dry, weak but still full of hate. “I’ve been at the martial arts school for two years, utterly deferential to Yang Erhu, flattering him in every way, but he wouldn’t take me as a disciple. Instead, he took you, some kid who popped up out of nowhere? Why?”
Hong Yuan scrutinized Meng Yue’s face. Under the powerful observation granted by 【Clear Eyes and Penetrating】, even with blood and grime covering it and his expression savage, he could clearly discern subtle changes in emotion.
Hong Yuan’s right hand gripped the hilt of the long saber that pierced Meng Yue’s palm, sinking three inches into the ground. Suddenly, with a single pull, the steel saber fell into his palm. He raised his hand and swung down.
The next moment.
With a ‘chi’ sound, a line of blood pierced Meng Yue’s wrist. His right hand was severed clean off.
“Ah!” Meng Yue’s shrill cry was like that of a malevolent ghost. This time Hong Yuan didn’t stop him, waiting until he stopped on his own before calmly saying, “Junior Brother, you’re lying. Can you rephrase and answer again? If you deceive me again, your other hand is gone too.”
Meng Yue’s body trembled, his face deathly pale. He rasped, “What’s the difference between telling or not? It’s death either way. If you’re a real man, stop torturing me and kill me!”
Hong Yuan said indifferently, “Tell the truth, and I might let you go.”
Meng Yue’s eyes were venomous, a hissing mockery from his throat, as if laughing that Hong Yuan’s words could only fool ghosts.
“I, Hong Yuan, am a man of my word.” Hong Yuan’s tone was calm and firm. “Besides, even if you don’t talk, with so many survivors in this room, I can get plenty out of them. It’ll just take some time.”
“You mean it? If I talk, you really won’t kill me?” Meng Yue rasped.
Seeing a faint glimmer of hope, a bit of expectation appeared in Meng Yue’s dazed eyes. Naturally, he wanted to live if he could.
“Fine, I’ll tell you! I’m from the Dragon Subduing Sect, sent by Young Master Shenxiao to join the Yang Family Martial Arts School, all for… back when the Dragon Tiger Patriarch…”
Hong Yuan listened silently. When he heard “Dragon Tiger Patriarch,” his eyes flickered slightly.
From Meng Yue’s mouth, he learned that his sect shared deep origins with the Tiger Subduing Sect. Long ago in the jianghu, there was a master known as ‘Dragon Tiger.’ This Dragon Tiger walked the jianghu for years and took two disciples: one surnamed Zhang, one surnamed Li.
The two, Zhang and Li, each received half of Dragon Tiger’s inheritance. Originally, Dragon Tiger had hoped they would work together to carry on his legacy.
Who would have thought that after Dragon Tiger’s death, Zhang and Li fell out for some reason. Each founded his own sect, and the Tiger Subduing Sect that Hong Yuan joined was True Man Li’s line.
Meng Yue came from True Man Zhang’s ‘Dragon Subduing Sect’ line. Following orders from Young Master Shenxiao behind the scenes, he lurked in the Yang Family Martial Arts School to seize the Tiger Subduing Sect’s secret transmission and achieve the ‘Dragon Tiger Momentum.’
The reason for targeting Hong Yuan was that he had become Yang Erhu’s direct disciple, blocking the way.
“Senior Brother Hong… we didn’t have to fight to the death. Dragon Subduing and Tiger Subduing both worship the Dragon Tiger Patriarch, from the same source. Our sect’s Young Master Shenxiao is a heaven-sent genius. Why not bring the Tiger Subduing secret transmission and join us? With Young Master Shenxiao’s capacity, he’ll surely put you to good use. Wouldn’t that be more promising than being stuck in a small martial arts school?” Meng Yue forced out these words.
Sizzle! Saber light flashed, and two more fingers flew from Meng Yue’s left hand.
Perhaps numb from the pain, Meng Yue just stared blankly as his bloody fingers rolled across the floor. His mouth opened and closed, as if he didn’t even have the strength to howl.
“Junior Brother, anything else to add? I feel like you’re still deceiving me.”
“I’m not…”
“Think again!”
Meng Yue was already exhausted in body and spirit. The weakness and agony throughout his body were eroding his will, yet Hong Yuan forced him to repeat himself over and over.
After a while, Hong Yuan smiled. Sure enough, there were some unexpected gains.
For instance, he learned that in Yangquan County, Meng Yue had a contact above him called ‘Mr. Cui,’ who mainly passed on Young Master Shenxiao’s orders to Meng Yue.
Also, that night when Meng Yue went to the wharf to find Yan Laosan, there had been an incident: strongmen attacked Yan Laosan’s gambling den under cover of night, killing or injuring over twenty men before being driven off by cold arrows.
‘The ones who raided Yan Laosan’s lair—could it be Teacher?’ Hong Yuan carefully confirmed the time. It matched when Yang Erhu had gone out that night, returned, and been injured. Suspicion stirred in his heart.
“Can you let me go now?” Meng Yue’s tone was feeble.
“Of course.” Hong Yuan nodded.
The next moment, the long saber spun in his palm. A flash of blade light sliced through, piercing Meng Yue’s throat. The latter’s eyes bulged wide, bloodshot, clinging to his last breath as he glared furiously at Hong Yuan.
“Sigh!” Hong Yuan sighed, slowly wiping the blood from the blade on Meng Yue’s clothes. Composed, he said, “Junior Brother, this is what comes of being uneducated. My Hong Yuan’s ‘Yuan’ is the ‘Yuan’ of primal spirit! Next life, learn from your senior brother and become a cultured, well-read man.”
Meng Yue’s mouth opened as if to curse something, but the light in his eyes had already faded.
Hong Yuan turned and strode out of the room thick with the stench of alcohol and blood. The few surviving ruffians, half-drunk and half-awake, trembled in fear, feeling a strange sense of having survived a disaster.
“We lived?”
Ecstasy bloomed on their faces.
But suddenly, a head poked in from the doorway, its face breaking into a brilliant smile. “Having fun? Thought your lives were safe?”
