Martial King's Retired Life

“It” wasn’t fond of the friendship between the kind landlord and chivalrous drifter. Thus, it plotted to instigate conflict between the two. The landlord was wealthy and wielded authority. Therefore, it was easy for him to sin. His chilvarous friend would then have to oppose his friend to uphold justice. No matter who killed who, who had to live with the regret and who was wronged, the only winner was “it”, the one who heartily collected their corpses.

“Fantastic story.” The apostle smiled to himself as he shut the picture book. “I never get bored of this story no matter how many times I read it.”

The apostle politely placed money for his tea on the table, then left the teahouse he spent at all morning at. While he still drew attention, he was strolling around in normal clothes instead of the night attire he wore when visiting Zhuo Fengru.

The apostle was confident Zhuo Fengru and Ming Feizhen were fighting just as in his favourite picture book. While he wasn’t a habitual liar – never planned to set anyone up to fight their friend, for that matter – he did withhold a key piece of information. It went without saying that retrieving the artefact in Hua Qing’s possession was of utmost importance, but the other task he didn’t tell Zhuo Fengru about was eliminating Zhuo Fengru.

He waited for Lord Miguo to almost lose his patience with the elder who refused to collaborate before suggesting, “Your Excellency, your subject suggests eliminating him.” Lord Miguo’s scowl cued the apostle in to boldly sharing the masterplan he had been dying to share. As he desired, Lord Miguo entrusted erasing Zhuo Fengru to him.

Although Zhuo Fengru had worked with Miguo Branch on more than one occasion, his scornful, belittling attitude was the reason he never held any post in Miguo Branch. Following Xu Clan’s massacre, his heightened disdain and despisement for Miguo Branch betokened a physical manifestation of those emotions. This was the opposite effect of what they hoped for.

Zhuo Fengru posed a problem for Miguo Branch as he knew too many of their secrets and wouldn’t bow to them even in the face of death threats. Even Lord Miguo had to resort to shameless tactics to submit Zhuo Fengru. Hence, Zhuo Fengru needed to go; problem was, nobody but Lord Miguo, who couldn’t leave Shennong, could beat him. Zhuo Fengru was also an astute man, which meant that poison might not work. Thankfully, the picture book provided the apostle with an ephiphany.

Ming Feizhen may have been a bag of mysteries, but his combat capacity had him the most suitable person for the drifter role.

The apostle could already see Zhuo Fengru lying in a pool of his own blood, a vision that brought an upward curve to his lips. From the apostle’s perspective, Zhuo Fengru’s life was one big joke.

The number of ways of attaining power in the pugilistic world could be counted on one hand. If there were so many routes to becoming strong, adepts would be ubiquitous. In reality, the number of people who enrolled in reputable sects, invested blood, sweat and tears for years with nothing to show for them were countless. Zhuo Fengru was one of those unsuccessful people.

On the other hand, there were some people who are blessed with luck at every turn without asking for it. They hardly put in effort, yet they surpassed barriers that ordinary folks couldn’t seem too overcome. It was akin to investing peanuts and making gold bricks in return.

There was a childish bumpkin who suddenly became a direct disciple of a sect, inherited a coveted skills and was the man of women’s dreams. All the friends he made were renowned folks and prodigies. He committed serious crimes, yet not only did he get away with them, but he was even hailed as a hero.

He couldn’t fathom why he was so jealous when he saw the man return in triumph even though the man smiled at him just as they did during their younger days. He shone so brought that he was just a shadow. Compared to Zhuo Fengru, nevertheless, he was much better off.

Zhuo Fengru had the chance of a lifetime, yet he decided to be obstinate, protecting his dignity instead of committing theft. In the end, his son’s life was in the hands of another. His savings were spent with abandon. Liu Shan Men wouldn’t get off his tail. And now, his life was in peril. The apostle wasn’t going to make the same mistake Zhuo Fengru made.

The apostle insisted on seizing every opportunity. Thanks to his belief, he entered the picture when that individual fell and tried to control every variable. Thanks to his belief and actions, he had the chance to meet Lord Miguo and change his destiny.

The feeling of a qi tide spreading as soon as he opened the door indicated that an intense fight had just ended. Even without it, the sight of frightened people and damaged furniture would’ve been equally informative.

Zhuo Fengru was on his back, gasping blood, bleeding at the torso and in a groggy state. Ming Feizhen’s clothing was dishevelled, but he was on his feet and still had self-awareness.

Ming Feizhen wiped the blood around his mouth. “Venerable Kongcang, I’ve been waiting.”

The man attired in black – Venerable Kongcang – smiled innocently back as always. “Amitabha.”