The middle-aged man’s eyes were like lightning bolts as he spoke coldly, “To aid the tyrant is a crime worthy of ten thousand deaths!”
With that, he suddenly moved before Li Mu Chan, bringing down a palm strike with immense power, as if intending to crush Li Mu Chan in a single blow.
This strike was both fierce and swift, arriving before Li Mu Chan in an instant.
Li Mu Chan floated backward, shaking his head. “As a citizen of Da Yan, to assassinate a Da Yan general—isn't that just helping Eastern Chu?”
He spoke while his feet danced lightly, evading the attack.
General Hua grew more perplexed but remained silent, merely watching Li Mu Chan, trying to discern the truth of the situation.
The middle-aged man sneered repeatedly, pressing his palm strikes one after another, radiating killing intent as if striking an irreconcilable enemy, pressing closer step by step.
Li Mu Chan only dodged, appearing to lack the strength to strike back.
General Hua set down his book, placed his hands behind his back, and approached the writing desk, observing the fight closely. His brow furrowed, staring intently at the middle-aged man, his expression grave.
He considered that handling this attacker himself would be difficult; the man’s moves were fast, vicious, cunning, and deceptive. At first glance, it seemed brute force overcame skill, but in reality, it was treacherous and impossible to defend against.
If it were him, he would have been struck long ago, yet Master Ming Kong seemed to manage with ease, suggesting that Master Ming Kong’s martial arts were as astonishing as his archery, far surpassing his own.
Li Mu Chan’s feet never stopped moving. His eyes were locked on the middle-aged man’s eyes. He frowned in contemplation, as if facing a dilemma and unable to make a decision. He spoke in a deep voice, “If you truly injure the General, and the army outside the city attacks in the chaos, leading to the slaughter of the common people—would you not then be a sinner?”
The middle-aged man sneered, “If one general is incompetent, the army suffers for it. Without him, how could the Eastern Chu forces reach outside Shenguang City? How could the common people be killed? ... He deserves to die.”
Li Mu Chan said lightly, “You have been instigated and incited to come here, haven’t you?” If the Eastern Chu forces succeeded in assassinating the General, and he was heavily wounded and unconscious, the Shenguang Camp would be headless, allowing the Eastern Chu forces to gain an advantage. Now that the General is awake, they cannot profit, so they resort to the same trick! Hmph, you are playing exactly into the hands of the Eastern Chu! Hurting one’s own and benefiting the enemy—there is nothing more foolish!”
The middle-aged man was unmoved, coldly snorting, “I don’t care about all that. Kill this damned General, and replace him with a better one who can drive out the Eastern Chu brats!”
Li Mu Chan shook his head, “How do you know that the one you replace him with will certainly be stronger than the current General?”
The middle-aged man replied dismissively, “If he’s not better, we’ll kill him too!”
His movements became even more urgent, whistling through the air and making Li Mu Chan’s monk robes billow.
Li Mu Chan said, “Killing the General is a crime punishable by the extermination of the entire clan. Looking at you, you are not a solitary person. Aren’t you afraid of implicating your family and relatives?”
The middle-aged man grunted, “If I die, I die. If I can do something for the common people, my death is worthwhile!”
Li Mu Chan shook his head. “To be used by others and still feel self-satisfied, alas…”
General Hua also frowned at this point, beginning to understand.
No wonder Master Ming Kong hesitated; this man was too peculiar. He possessed a heart for the people, yet the means by which he sought to act were anything but respectable. Looking at him, with electric coldness shooting from his eyes, he was clearly intelligent, yet his arrogance led to foolishness.
Encountering such a fellow truly invited a bitter smile. Releasing him would be letting him off too easily; killing him felt somehow wrong.
He sighed and shook his head.
Li Mu Chan continued to dodge while arguing with the middle-aged man, his words rambling on like an earnest plea, possessing the demeanor of a high monk guiding souls.
The middle-aged man argued coldly, never ceasing his assault; his moves were sharp, vicious, and powerful.
Time passed quickly. After a hundred exchanges, Li Mu Chan suddenly drew his bow and shot an arrow towards General Hua. The General did not have time to react; the arrow had vanished before his eyes, and his body instantly froze.
In that moment, he felt as if facing death. A chilling coldness swept up his back, spreading outward, freezing his heart, and his body froze along with it.
With a dull thud, his body shuddered, jolting him awake. He hurriedly turned his head to look behind him.
A thin man lay on the ground, his hair slightly yellowed and slightly curled. General Hua recognized him instantly as Eastern Chu personnel; the man was only two paces behind him.
That chilling sensation was not from Master Ming Kong’s arrow but from this Eastern Chu man right there, who had clearly launched a fatal strike.
If the arrow of Su Fei Master Ming Kong had been truly aimed at him, his life would have been forfeit.
Master Ming Kong was facing away, yet he could see the situation behind him. Saving him at the critical juncture—this kind of mysterious art was truly profound, mysterious beyond measure.
Li Mu Chan turned his head and said, “Did you see? This man followed you in.”
The middle-aged man frowned, his face icy cold. He glared fixedly at the Eastern Chu man on the ground, grinding his teeth, “The thing I hate most in my life is being used by others!”
He flashed forward, suddenly appearing before the Eastern Chu man, kicking out a foot.
Li Mu Chan flicked his zither lightly. Bang! A dull thud sounded. The middle-aged man’s kick stopped abruptly, as if hitting an invisible wall, the sound muffled.
Li Mu Chan flicked his zither again, and the Eastern Chu man flew backward.
“You!” the middle-aged man roared in fury.
Li Mu Chan asked, “How did you break this formation?”
The middle-aged man replied coldly, “Why should I tell you?”
Li Mu Chan shook his head, examining the man’s sharp, calculating eyes. “You didn’t find this path by yourself; a master must have guided you, right? Which master?”
“Nonsense!” the middle-aged man exploded in anger, sneering, “You judge a man by his appearance! This petty Eight Trigrams Bagua Formation is merely a trivial trick; I saw right through it instantly!”
Li Mu Chan smiled and shook his head, “Impossible. Someone as easily manipulated as you could never decipher the Eight Trigrams Bagua Formation!”
The middle-aged man’s face flushed red, and he said hatefully, “Whether I was manipulated or not has nothing to do with Qimen Dunjia!”
Li Mu Chan shook his head and sighed, “That such a simple ploy went unnoticed by you is truly lamentable.”
“Hmph. Perhaps I misjudge character, but when it comes to Qimen Dunjia, while I wouldn’t claim to be the best in the world, I am certainly among the elite. This small Eight Trigrams Bagua Formation is not worth mentioning,” the middle-aged man declared proudly.
Li Mu Chan turned to look at General Hua. “General, what do you think?”
“Hmm, take him in,” General Hua nodded.
He understood now why Master Ming Kong had been so long-winded, insisting on making everything clear with the middle-aged man. All those words were spoken to win this man over.
The middle-aged man sneered, “What are you planning?”
Li Mu Chan said, “Why not come under the General’s command as an advisor?”
“Nonsense, I’d never do that!” The middle-aged man’s expression changed violently, his eyes wide. “I wish I could slay this incompetent General myself!”
Li Mu Chan shook his head, “Your attempted assassination was a heinous crime, and it risks implicating your entire family. You should reconsider carefully; don't be so quick to refuse.”
“Less nonsense! I’m leaving!” the middle-aged man sneered and turned to go.
Li Mu Chan smiled and shook his head, flicking his zither. Instantly, a surging power burst forth like waves. The middle-aged man sensed danger and abruptly turned, pushing out a palm strike.
Bang! A dull thud. The man staggered, swaying as if drunk, stumbling four steps forward before finally managing to steady himself.
Li Mu Chan smiled faintly, “I still don't know your esteemed name?”
“I won’t tell you!” The middle-aged man swallowed hard, the movement visible in his throat as he swallowed blood, his voice turning dry and rough.
Li Mu Chan shook his head and sighed, “Alas… you refuse a toast only to invite a forfeit. Why make things difficult?”
He moved both hands—Bang!—a muffled sound—the bowstring vibrated incessantly as a short arrow shot into the middle-aged man’s shoulder.
Thwack! Another muffled sound. He fell straight down, landing on his side, his head striking the ground.
Li Mu Chan shook his head, retrieving the arrow, and turned with a wry smile. “General, this fellow is truly stubborn. We’ll have to take things slowly.”
“That will do,” General Hua nodded and smiled. “The art of Qimen Dunjia is profoundly mysterious. Since he can master it, he must be exceptionally intelligent.”
Li Mu Chan nodded. “Indeed. His mind is entirely focused on Qimen Dunjia, causing him to neglect human relations and worldly wisdom.”
Li Mu Chan had seen many people like this, especially in later generations. This was a clear case of high IQ coupled with low emotional intelligence—perfectly normal.
General Hua looked down at the middle-aged man and sighed, “Persuading him to serve will certainly not be easy.”
The middle-aged man had already lost consciousness, his expression peaceful.
Li Mu Chan smiled, “Leave it to me. We absolutely cannot let talent like this slip away.”
“Very well, I trouble you, Master,” General Hua smiled.
Unknowingly, he had changed his address, no longer calling him merely Ming Kong, but addressing him as Master. Li Mu Chan didn't mind; titles were merely superficial matters.
The middle-aged man maintained a stubborn silence. He was escorted to a nearby tent with no guard, but the moment he stepped outside, an arrow would fly from the empty air and lodge in his shoulder—impossible to evade.
He refused to believe it and tried to force his way out, attempting various methods: moving like a gust of wind using his lightness skill, sneaking out silently inch by inch, or first throwing a piece of clothing ahead and silently following behind it.
But none of it worked. The instant his head emerged from the tent, an arrow would appear, piercing his left shoulder—a new wound.
No matter what method he used, as soon as he stuck his head out, an arrow would strike his shoulder. In the first few attempts, he was furious and defiant, determined to break out. After ten tries, spurred on by repeated failure, he slowly calmed down, a chill creeping into his bones.
He was secretly startled. This arrow was truly ghost-like, impossible to avoid, impossibly fast, arriving without a sound, leaving no room for evasion.
Since the arrow struck his shoulder, if it had hit his heart, his life would have ended long ago.
What was most infuriating was that the archer sat inside the tent, able to see his every move without needing to watch directly. Such archery was simply godlike.
He hadn't been convinced before, but now he understood the terrifying capability of Li Mu Chan. If the Master had intended to take his life, one arrow would have sufficed.
Two days later, Li Mu Chan appeared and had a long conversation with him, speaking eloquently from the principles of national justice down to personal integrity and talent, his words flowing like a string of pearls.
The middle-aged man was named Zhang Anping. Although stubborn, he held deep respect for those with genuine ability and despised those who lacked skill.