; most of them were bald Buddhist nuns of all ages, elderly, middle-aged and young, even teenaged nuns. Behind these female disciples, more than a ‘zhang’ away, walked a very beautiful young woman wearing dark green ordinary [Translator’s note: by ‘ordinary’ here, I mean secular, not a Buddhist nun clothes] clothes in slow steps. She was the Emei Pai Sect Leader, Zhou Zhiruo. As Zhang Wuji saw her slim figure, with a rather thin and pallid face, he felt sorry for her, but also ashamed of himself.

Several ‘zhang’s behind Zhou Zhiruo, there were about twenty male disciples; they also wore black robes. Most of them had refined scholar-like features, unlike the masculine and imposing features common to those of Wulin characters. Each man’s hands carried a wooden case of varying sizes, long and short. These hundred or so Emei disciples did not carry any weapon either on their bodies or their hands, obviously, the weapons were inside those boxes.

The crowd of warriors secretly praised, “The Emei Pai truly knows propriety; by not carrying weapons openly, they are showing deep respect toward the Shaolin Pai.”

Zhang Wuji waited until they were seated before he walk toward Emei Pai’s shelter and greet Zhou Zhiruo by cupping his fists. In bashful and ashamed voice he said, “Zhou Jiejie [elder sister Zhou], Zhang Wuji comes to apologize humbly.”

More than ten Emei Pai female disciples stood up suddenly; their eyebrows were raised, their faces looked angry.

“I do not dare,” Zhou Zhiruo returned the propriety. “Zhang Jiaozhu, why must you overly courteous? I am sure you are well since we part?” She looked completely calm, without any sign of either delight or anger.

Zhang Wuji’s heart was thumping erratically. “Zhiruo,” he said, “Because I was eager to save Yifu, I was being rude to you. I feel endless regret in my heart.”

Zhou Zhiruo said, “I heard Xie Laoye [old master Xie] has fallen into Shaolin Temple’s hands. Zhang Jiaozhu is an unrivalled hero, I am sure you have already rescued him.”

Zhang Wuji blushed and said, “Shaolin Pai’s eminent monks possess profound martial art skill. The Ming Cult has lost a battle. My (maternal) Grandfather was unfortunate and has passed away.”

“Yin Laoye Zi [old master] was a hero of this age,” Zhou Zhiruo said, “What a pity, what a pity!”

She did not show any emotion whether happy or angry. Zhang Wuji could not read her true feelings; he only felt that his words seem like bumping on her flexible nail, always bounce back without generating any interest on her part. However, thinking that compared to how bad he had hurt her by leaving her for Zhao Min in front of multitude of guests, the cold reception he received today was a thousand times, ten thousand times better. Thereupon he said, “Later, when we try to save Yifu, I wish you would lend your hands for old times’ sake.”

His heart stirred as soon as he said those words. “In the past half a year, her skill has advanced greatly,” he mused, “At the wedding hall the other day, Fan You Shi was forced to retreat by her in just one stance even with the kind of skill he has. Min Mei has learned the special skills of various sects’ leaders, yet she was almost killed instantly by her; not to mention Du Baidang and Yi Sanniang, husband and wife just a few days ago. Perhaps … perhaps as she took over the Emei Zhangmen [sect leader] position, she trained some secret martial art from some secret manual reserved exclusively for Sect Leader. Her comprehension is better than Miejue Shitai to the extent of although green was born of blue, it surpasses the blue [Translator’s note: a Chinese saying, means ‘student (or children) become superior to the master (or parents)]. If she is willing to collaborate with me, we might be able to break the ‘Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan’.”

Thinking to this point, he was excited and said, “Zhiruo, I want to ask you a favor.”

Zhou Zhiruo’s countenance suddenly stiffened. “Zhang Jiaozhu,” she said, “Please exercise self-control. At this point, how can you address me like in the former days?” Beckoning to someone behind her she said, “Qingshu, come over here. Tell Zhang Jiaozhu about us.”

Zhang Wuji saw a man with face full of spiky beard step forward, cupping his fists and say, “Zhang Jiaozhu, how are you?”

Zhang Wuji recognized the voice as belonging to Song Qingshu; he took a closer look and recognized him as Song Qingshu; only he disguised himself as an older and uglier man to hide his original features. Thus Zhang Wuji also cupped his fists and said, “Turns out it is Song Shige [martial (older) brother]; I am well, thank you.”

Song Qingshu showed a faint smile and said, “Actually, I should thank Zhang Jiaozhu. That day when you were about to marry my wife you had a second thought and regret …”

“What?!?” Zhang Wuji was shocked; his voice trembled.

“I have Zhang Jiaozhu to thank for my happy and blissful marriage,” Song Qingshu said.

It was as if five thunderbolts had struck Zhang Wuji at once. He stood with a blank expression on his face; his eyes glazed over like he was looking at a vast expanse of whiteness, his ears were buzzing with indistinct noise that he could not hear what people were saying around him. After a long time, he felt someone was tugging his arm.

“Jiaozhu, let us go back!” that person said.

Zhang Wuji calmed himself down and took a sidelong glance. He saw his arm was pulled by Han Lin’er. Han Lin’er’s face was full of anxiety, grief and anger.

“Miss Zhou,” Han Lin’er said to Zhou Zhiruo, “My Jiaozhu is a righteous hero; just because of a small misunderstanding you married this … this … humph, humph!” Actually, he wanted to scold Song Qingshu, but out of respect to Zhou Zhiruo, he swallowed back the word that was on the tip of his tongue.

Although Zhang Wuji had deep feelings toward Zhao Min, he had always thought that he was engaged with Zhou Zhiruo. That day, because he wanted to rescue Yifu, he had no choice but follow Zhao Min. He thought as a sweet and gentle girl, Zhou Zhiruo would understand and would not blame him as long as he honestly told her the reason. Who would have thought that in her rage she married Song Qingshu? The pain in his heart right now far exceeded the pain on his chest when Zhou Zhiruo stabbed him at the Brightness Peak.

Turning his head, he saw Zhou Zhiruo stretch out her delicate hand, as white as jade, to beckon Song Qingshu. With a very smug expression Song Qingshu walked back to her side, and sat next to her. With a faint smile on the corners of his mouth he said to Zhang Wuji, “When we get married, we did not throw any invitations and thus announced it publicly. Someday, we will invite Sire to enjoy our ‘wine of happiness’ [orig. xi3jiu3 – wine drunk at a wedding feast].”

Zhang Wuji wanted to say ‘thank you’ [orig. duo1xie4le5], but his throat was dry; unexpectedly he could not utter these three characters. Han Lin’er pulled his arm and said, “Jiaozhu, don’t pay any attention to this kind of person.”

Song Qingshu laughed and said, “Han Dage [big brother Han], when the time comes, you also have to enjoy this ‘wine of happiness’.”

Han Lin’er spat and hatefully said, “I’d rather drink three jars of horse urine than your bad-luck, dead-people’s wine.” Zhang Wuji sighed; he pulled Han Lin’er’s arm and took him away sadly.

In the meantime, the Beggar Clan’s Zhang Bang Longtou was engaged in a fiery argument with a Shaolin monk. The exchange among Zhang Wuji, Zhou Zhiruo, Song Qingshu and Han Lin’er took place at the Emei Pai shelter, on the northwest corner of the field, so it did not attract anybody’s attention; the crowd of warriors was busy listening to the dispute between the Beggar Clan and Shaolin Pai.

Zhang Wuji returned to the Ming Cult’s shelter and sat down with a troubled mind. He vaguely heard that old Shaolin monk in red kasaya say, “I told you Yuan Zhen Shixiong [martial brother] and Chen Youliang are not in our Temple, but your precious Clan did not believe me. Your precious Clan’s Chuan Gong Zhanglao was unfortunate to meet his death, but our Sect’s Kong Ru Shishu [martial uncle] had paid it with his own life. What else do you want?”

Zhang Bang Longtou said, “You said Yuan Zhen and Chen Youliang are not here? I don’t believe you! You must let us search Shaolin Temple.”

That Shaolin monk sneered and said, “Sire, you want to search Shaolin Temple? Don’t you think you are a bit too arrogant? The puny Beggar Clan might not necessarily have the ability to do so.”

“You are looking down on the Beggar Clan?” Zhang Bang Longtou said angrily. “Fine, I’ll ask you for advice first.”

The Shaolin monk replied, “For thousands of years, there have been countless heroes and warriors paying a visit to Shaolin. But because of our founder’s mercy, Shaolin has never burned anybody.”

The argument of these two was getting hotter by the minute; it looked like they were about to fight soon. Kong Zhi was standing quietly on the side; he did not even try to intervene. Suddenly Situ Qianzhong’s weird voice was heard again, “The world’s heroes are gathered together at Shaolin today. Some of us had to cover a distance of thousands of ‘li’s. Are we here to watch the Beggar Clan seeking a revenge?”

“That’s right,” Xia Zhou said, “The enmity between the Beggar Clan and Shaolin Pai can be temporarily set aside. It will not be too late for the two of you to settle your account later. We’d better talk about how we are going to handle that villain Xie Xun first.”

“Don’t be foul-mouthed,” Zhang Bang Longtou was indignant. “Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Daxia is one of the Ming Cult’s Protector Kings; what villain are you talking about?”

Xia Zhou thundered, “You are scared of the Ming Cult, I am not scared of them! A villain with a wolf heart and dog lung like Xie Xun and you still honor him as a hero?”

Yang Xiao walked toward the center of the field, cupped his fists around and said, “I am [orig. zai4xia4] the Ming Cult’s Guangming Zuo Shi [left emissary of the brightness]. I have something I’d like to say in front of the world’s heroes. My humble Cult’s Xie Shi Wang has killed innocent people in the past, but actually, he can’t be blamed …”

“Humph,” Xia Zhou snorted, “Those people he killed are already dead. Do you think you can resurrect them with several sentences of your superficial words?”

Yang Xiao was unfazed; he said, “We are roaming the Jianghu; we lick the blood on our blades on a daily basis. Which one among us has never taken anybody’s life to be able to stay alive until today? One with stronger martial art skill might kill more people. One with inept skill might lose one’s life. If for every life we take we must pay with our own lives, hey, hey, I wonder how many of us, among these several thousands of heroes and warriors in this field, would remain. Xia Lao Yingxiong [old hero Xia], you have never killed people in your whole life?”

The Mongolian occupation of China was a time of chaos; there was trouble and confusion everywhere. As the Wulin characters roamed the Jianghu, they would either kill or be killed. It was quite difficult to cultivate one’s own moral worth. Other than a small number of monks and nuns from Shaolin Pai and Emei Pai, perhaps it was rare to find anybody whose hands were free from bloodstain.

This Shandong’s warrior Xia Zhou was a hot-tempered man; he had injured countless people. Yang Xiao’s words had rendered him speechless.

After being dumbfounded for a while, he said, “Bad people we can kill, good people we should not kill. This Xie Xun and the devil heads of the Ming Cult are entirely alike; always do dishonorable deeds. I wish I could cut you in thousands pieces, eat your flesh and sleep on your skin. Humph, humph, the one surnamed Yang, I think you are not a good ‘thing’.”

He understood that there were many highly skilled people within the Ming Cult, but today he wanted to kill Xie Xun to avenge his brother’s death, so a bloody battle against the Ming Cult was unavoidable. Therefore, he spoke boldly without showing any restraint.

A piercing voice came from the Ming Cult shelter, “Xia Zhou, do you think I am a good ‘thing’?”

Xia Zhou turned to look at the speaker; he saw a thin-cheeked and sharp-mouthed, pale-faced man; so pale that his face looked gray. Xia Zhou did not know what kind of person this speaker was; he shouted, “I don’t know who you are, but since you are one of the Devil Cult’s devil heads, I am sure you are not a good ‘thing’.”

“Xia Xiong [brother Xia},” Situ Qianzhong said, “Don’t you know this gentleman? He is one of the Four Protector Kings of the Ming Cult, the Qing Yi Fu Wang.”

“Pei, pei!” Xia Zhou spat, “The Blood Sucking Devil!”

Suddenly, while the crowd of warriors was still talking among themselves, Wei Yixiao had arrived in front of Xia Zhou. They were actually more than ten ‘zhang’s apart, but somehow Wei Yixiao managed to cover that distance in split seconds.

Wei Yixiao raised his hand and ‘slap, slap, slap, slap!’ he gave Xia Zhou four slaps on his face, followed by an elbow strike toward the acupoint on Xia Zhou’s lower abdomen. Actually, Xia Zhou’s martial art skill was not so bad. Based on their actual skill levels, Wei Yixiao would need at least fifty stances before he could beat Xia Zhou. However, Wei Yixiao’s ‘qing gong’ skill was too strange for Xia Zhou. He moved like a ghost, like a demon; so because of this element of surprise, by the time Xia Zhou realized the attack and was about to parry, the strike had already arrived.

While the crowd of warriors was crying out in shock, a white shadow flew from the Ming Cult’s shelter. It was inferior to Wei Yixiao’s lightning speed, yet the shadow was faster than a galloping horse. As the shadow reached Xia Zhou, a large cloth sack opened, went down on his head, and scooped him inside the sack. It was not until the shadow slung the sack on his shoulder did the crowd of warriors finally saw that the shadow was a giggling Buddhist monk, the Bu Dai Heshang [cloth sack monk] Shuo Bude.

Shuo Bude laughed and said, “A good thing, you are a good thing! The monk will take you home and cook you slowly for my dinner!” Carrying Xia Zhou along, light as a feather he swiftly returned to the wooden shelter.

This attack on Xia Zhou happened very quickly and ended just as quick. Although he was surrounded by a dozen friends and fellow martial brothers, the two men from the enemy side were too fast that nobody was able to render their assistance. Only after Wei Yixiao and Shuo Bude were back to their seats that these dozen or so people unsheathed their weapons and charged toward the Ming Cult’s shelter with loud shouting and cursing.

Shuo Bude pulled open the sack’s mouth and said with a laugh, “Just return to your seats nicely and sit down quietly. After the meeting is over, I will let him go. If you are not obedient, the old monk will urinate into this cloth sack, or put some dung inside, or the best I can do is farting into the sack. Do you believe me or not?” As he said that, he put his hand onto his belt, as if he was ready to take his pants off.

These dozen or so people were so angry that their faces turned green and yellow, but remembering that these Ming Cult people would not stop at anything, they believed that he would do what he said he would do. They also realized that their skills were insufficient to help Xia Zhou. If this bald thief really urinated on his head, Xia Lao Yingxiong would certainly kill himself. They looked at each other, and then they returned to their seats with a dejected look on their faces.

Watching this affair, the crowd of heroes was startled and amused at the same time. When they went up the mountain, they were in high spirits, thinking that they were going to witness the execution of Xie Xun. But as they saw the skills of these two Ming Cult warriors, they realized that this assembly could turn dangerous. Even if they were successful in killing Xie Xun, the field would unavoidably be soaked with blood, and corpses would be scattered everywhere. They could not restrain trepidation from creeping into their hearts.

They saw Situ Qianzhong, with a wine cup in his left hand and a wine gourd in his right, walk toward the center of the field while shaking his head. “There is indeed a lively event worthy to be watched today,” he said, “Some want to kill Xie Xun, some want to save him. But after going back and forth, whether Xie Xun is really at the Shaolin Temple or not, is still left to our own speculation. I’ll say: Kong Zhi Dashi, why don’t you invite Jin Mao Shi Wang to come out so that everybody can see him first. And then, those of want to kill and those who want to save, can show their true ability by competing against each other. Don’t you think it will be interesting?”

At his words, most of the warriors around the field applauded and cheered loudly. Yang Xiao thought, “Xie Shi Wang [lion king Xie] has too many enemies. Even with Ming Cult and the Beggar Clan’s combined forces, we simply cannot fight the heroes from all over the world. It will be better to divert their attention to the Tulong Saber and stir up these warriors to fight each other.” Thereupon with a loud and clear voice he said, “All the warriors under the Heaven are gathered here at the Shaolin Temple today, first, to settle the unfinished business of gratitude and grudges with Xie Shi Wang; second … hey hey! I am afraid everybody wants to get their hands on this treasured Tulong Saber. If we follow Mr. Situ’s suggestion, everybody will fight everybody else and then after when all is said and done, I wonder who will get the precious Saber?”

As the crowd heard him, they thought he was speaking reasonably. Besides, among these several thousand people, perhaps only a little over a hundred people who truly had intense and deep-hatred toward Xie Xun. Without realizing it, their hearts were beating faster as soon as they thought about the ‘most revered in the Wulin world’ [wulin zhi zun], four characters.

A black-bearded old man stood up and said, “I wonder what kind of person is in possession of the Tulong Saber, would Yang Zuo Shi inform us?”

“This matter is also unclear to me,” Yang Xiao replied, “I am afraid we must consult Kong Zhi Chanshi [honorific title for a Buddhist monk].”

Kong Zhi shook his head without saying anything. The crowd of heroes was secretly dissatisfied, they all thought, “Shaolin Pai is the host and initiator of this assembly, but Kong Wen Fangzhang is suddenly ill and cannot come out; this Kong Zhi Chanshi is so lethargic that it looks like he is half dead. I wonder what kind of trick they are playing.”

A middle-aged man in dark-green coarse long robe stood up and said, “Although Kong Zhi Chanshi does not know, Xie Shi Wang certainly does. Let us invite him to come out and inquire of him. Afterwards, each one of us can play around with our true skills. Whose martial art skill is number one under the Heaven will be clear to us; naturally, he is worthy to bear the ‘wulin zhi zun’ title. No matter in whose hands the Saber is, he should hand it over to the ‘wulin zhi zun’. If you ask me, I’ll say we must agree to this first to avoid any dispute in the future. If he refuses to hand it over, all the heroes under the Heaven will rally together to attack him. Gentlemen, what do you think?”

Zhang Wuji recognized the speaker as one of the three Qinghai Pai sword masters who joined the attack to the Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan the other night.

Situ Qianzhong said, “Won’t that be a martial art competition? [orig. da2 lei4 tai2 – beating drum on the platform; as martial art competition on those days was usually held on a raised platform, with people beating drums on the side] I think it is completely inappropriate.”

“Any why not?” that man in the dark-green robe coldly asked, “Are you saying that we should not compete in a martial art, but compete on liquor capacity? If that’s the case, then which thousand bells [Situ Qianzhong means Situ (surname) ‘thousand bells’] is not drunk, whoever gets drunk but does not die [Situ Qianzhong’s title was ‘zui bu si’ (drunk but did not die)], will be crowned the ‘wulin zhi zun’.”

The crowd broke up in laughter. Some in the crowd said with a strange voice, “Why do we have to compete then? This ‘wulin zhi zun’ title would certainly belong to the ‘zui bu si’, Mr. Situ!”

Situ Qianzhong tipped his wine gourd to pour a cup of wine, and then tilting his head backwards he drank it in one gulp. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare!” he said earnestly, “To win the title ‘jiu lin zhi zun’ [the most revered in the wine world], I, ‘zui bu si’ might have a thirty percent chance; but ‘wulin zhi zun’, ha ha .. I don’t dare to accept the challenge; I don’t dare …” To the man in the dark-green robe he said, “Since Sire has raised this issue, your martial art knowledge must have transcended the mortal world attainment. Under my faulty vision, I actually do not know Sire’s illustrious name.”

That man coldly said, “I am Ye Changqing of Qinghai Pai; both my drinking capacity and my clowning skills are inferior to Sire’s.” He implied that ‘in martial art skill, I am much stronger than Sire.’

Situ Qianzhong tilted his head sideways and thought for half a day. “Qinghai Pai?” he said, “Never heard. Ye Changqing? Hm, hm … never heard either.”

Everybody thought, “This Old Situ has such a nerve. Insulting Ye Changqing one man is all right, but he dares to insult the entire Qingjai Pai; wonder if he has a formidable backer behind him? Or did he have an unresolved enmity against Qinghai Pai? Just based on these few words, I am afraid Qinghai Pai would not let him go easily.” Only those who knew Situ Qianzhong well realized that he was always alone, without anybody to back him up. He also did not have any enmity against the Qinghai Pai. He simply was a brassy man, who loved to argue and did not exercise control over his own tongue. Although he had suffered countless troubles in his life, his behavior did not change.

Murderous intent started to grow in Ye Changqing’s heart, but his face remained calm when he said, “Qinghai Pai and the Ol’ Ye are indeed obscure names, no wonder Sire did not know. But since Sire said martial art competition was inappropriate, while in drinking wine [orig. ‘pouring yellow soup’] competition Sire’s skill is unequalled under the Heaven, then how would we resolve this problem? Please advice.”

“ ‘Unequalled under the Heaven’ is truly much easier said than done,” Situ Qianzhong said, “Truly much easier said than done. Back then, when I was at Jinan Prefecture [capital of Shandong, northeastern China] …”

“Zui Bu Si,” he was about to prattle along when someone in the crowd shouted, “Don’t get drunk in here! We don’t have time to listen to your nonsense.” Another man shouted, “What about Xie Xun? What about the Tulong Saber?” Yet another man shouted, “Kong Zhi Chanshi, you are the host of this hero’s assembly, are you inviting us here to listen to this empty talk? What kind of assembly is this?” In short, the people wanted Situ Qianzhong to shut up, and for Kong Zhi to take charge of the situation. These people were shouting from among the crowd, some far, some near, they were from all directions.

Situ Qianzhong said, “Shi Laoda [old (big) man Shi] from Jiangling [a place in Hubei] prefecture’s Hei Feng Zhai [black wind fort], you don’t have to worry. Although your Hei Sha Zhang [black sand palm] is fierce, you will not necessarily able to defeat the ‘Unequalled under the Heaven’. Poyang Lake’s ‘shui di jin ao’ [mythological golden turtle from the bottom of Poyang Lake] Hou Xiongdi [brother Hou], that Xie Shi Wang [lion king Xie] possesses an excellent water skill; you won’t be able to take advantage of him with your underwater skill. Much less they still have one ‘Zi Shan Long Wang’ [purple-robed dragon king] who has not made her appearance yet. Hey, hey, how can turtle and fish compete against the dragon king? Mount Qingyang’s [a place in Anhui] Wu San Lang [third lad surnamed Wu], if you are dreaming of snatching the Tulong Saber with your sword, you must be blind …”

This man might talk like a madman, but he had a skill that surpassed others; his network of acquaintances was broad, his hearing was keen. From a bustling and random noise of the people shouting, he was able to call the surname and special skill of each speaker, one by one, without any mistake. The crowd of warriors realized this special skill of his; they could not help but break out in cheers.

An old monk behind Kong Zhi stood up and said, “Shaolin Pai is ashamed to be the host; as luck would have it, our Fangzhang [Abbot] has suddenly fallen ill. Nobody is in charge of this grand assembly, and in the end we become the laughingstock of everybody present. Xie Xun and the Tulong Saber are two separate matters, but they are two in one and one in two, which can be handled together. According to Lao Na, what this Ye Shizhu [benefactor] of Qinghai Pai said is very reasonable. There are countless brave people with outstanding ability among the attending heroes. We only need everybody to demonstrate each one’s skill. Whoever stays standing at the end will have the right to handle Xie Xun; the Tulong Saber will also be his. Let the heroes consider; isn’t it a good idea?”

Zhang Wuji asked Peng Yingyu, “Who is this monk?”

Peng Yingyu shook his head. “Subordinate does not know,” he said, “This monk did not participate in the besieging of the Brightness Peak. He also was not one of those held captive by Junzhu Niangniang at the Wanan Temple. But since he repeatedly speaks in front of Kong Zhi Dashi, his position in the Temple must not be low.”

Zhao Min said in a low voice, “Nine out of ten, this man belongs to Yuan Zhen gang. I am guessing that Kong Wen Fangzhang has fallen into Yuan Zhen’s hands. Kong Zhi Dashi thereupon is forced to comply with these rebels’ wish. That’s why he looks so gloomy and dispirited.”

Zhang Wuji’s heart sank; “Peng Dashi, what do you think?” he asked.

“Junzhu’s guess makes sense,” Peng Yingyu replied, “Only Shaolin Temple is full of martial art masters. Yuan Zhen’s his nerves must be too big to have the courage to openly defy his superior and create trouble.”

“Yuan Zhen has made preparations long time ago,” Zhang Wuji said, “First, he wants to destroy our Cult; second, he wants to gain control over the Beggar Clan. Both deceitful attempts failed when success was just in sight. This time, I believe he wants to be the Shaolin Pai’s Zhang Men Fangzhang [sect leader, abbot].”

“To be Zhang Men Fangzhang might not be enough,” Zhao Min said.

“Shaolin Pai is the number one Sect in the Wulin world,” Zhang Wuji said, “Being the Zhang Men Fangzhang is the pinnacle of achievement; nothing can be higher than that.”

“How about ‘wulin zhi zun’?” Zhao Min asked, “Isn’t ‘the most revered in the Wulin world’ higher than Shaolin Pai’s Zhang Men Fangzhang?”

“He wants to be the ‘wulin zhi zun’?” Zhang Wuji asked absentmindedly.

“Wuji Gege,” Zhao Min said, “Just because Zhou Jiejie [elder sister] married another man, you become muddle-headed, and cannot think about anything else clearly.”

As the secret of his heart was exposed, Zhang Wuji blushed. “Zhang Wuji,” he silently scolded himself, “You must not be engrossed in one thing and care about man-woman relationship only, and thus setting the important matter of rescuing Yifu aside.” Calming himself down, he thought about how Yuan Zhen was really farsighted; today’s great assembly was part of his grand schemes, so there must be something greater than what meets the eye. “Min Mei,” he said, “What do you think Yuan Zhen’s real intention is?”

Zhao Min said, “This man Yuan Zhen is very cunning; extremely intelligent …”

Zhou Dian, who had been listening on the side this conversation in low voice, finally could not restrain himself from cut in, “Junzhu Niangniang, you are also very cunning and extremely intelligent. I’ll say you are not the least bit inferior to Yuan Zhen.”

Zhao Min laughed, “You flatter me too much,” she said.

Zhou Dian said, “Not too much …”

“Dian Xiong,” Peng Yingyu cut him off, “Do not interrupt Junzhu Niangniang.”

Zhou Dian was indignant. “You interrupted me first …” he said.

Peng Yingyu smiled without saying anything. He was well aware that bickering with Zhou Dian for two to four hours [orig. one or two ‘sichen’, 1 sichen = 2-hour] was not unusual; therefore, he would rather not respond.

“Why don’t you say anything?” Zhou Dian asked.

“You told me not to interrupt you; I won’t interrupt you,” Peng Yingyu replied.

“But you have already interrupted me,” Zhou Dian said.

“Then please continue whatever you were going to say,” Peng Yingyu said.

“I’ve forgotten already, I don’t remember what I was going to say,” Zhou Dian said.

Zhao Min laughed and continued, “I thought that if Yuan Zhen’s sole objective was to be Shaolin Temple Abbot, he did not need to gather all the heroes under the Heaven here. Xia Daxia has already fallen into his hands, why would he want the heroes to fight over him? Wuji Gege, speaking about martial art skill, I am afraid nobody in the world is superior to you. It’s impossible that Yuan Zhen did not know this fact. I don’t think he is being nice by arranging all heroes under the Heaven to gather here so that you can defeat them all and become the ‘wulin zhi zun’. It is like he is offering Xie Daxia and the Tulong Saber to you for free.”

Zhang Wuji, Peng Yingyu and Zhou Dian nodded and asked, “What do you think is his real plot?”

At this time Yang Xiao walked over toward Zhang Wuji and joined the discussion, “I have been thinking, this traitor Yuan Zhen’s evil scheme must not be a simple one …”

Zhou Dian could not bear not to comment, “Yuan Zhen is our Cult’s archenemy. Junzhu Niangniang, you were once also our Cult’s archenemy. This traitor Yuan Zhen is very cunning and extremely intelligent, Junzhu Niangniang, you are also very cunning and extremely inte