ornment of the float.

Amidst the melodious sound of string and woodwind instruments, a float with the ‘Liu Zhiyuan’s Chronicle of the White Rabbit’ theme passed by. Suddenly the cheerful melody changed into an awkward melody of old tune; the plain banner on the float read ‘Zhou Gong banished Guan Cai’. On the float there was a middle-age man with a tablet in his hands [this is the tablet held by officials during imperial audience], he was playing the role of Zhou Gong. On his side sat a small child wearing an Emperor clothes, he was playing the part of the Emperor. Guan Shu and Cai Shu were standing on the side, whispering to each other and pointing their fingers to Zhou Gong. This float was followed by another float with ‘Wang Mang’s Hypocritical Act of Generosity’. The man on this float wore a very thick white face-powder, with gold and silver in his hands, pretending to give generously to poor people. Following these two floats was a cart with white banners on all four sides, with these writings on them, ‘When Zhou Gong feared the days of rumor, Wang Mang enjoyed being praised as a polite and modest scholar. If both of them died at that time, their loyalty and talent would be hidden for eternity.’

Zhang Wuji’s heart was stirred; he mused, “The right and wrong, black and white, in this world is really not easy to know. Zhou Gong was a great sage, but when he banished Guan Shu and Cai Shu, everyone said he was scheming to usurp the throne. Wang Mang was a great traitor, but when at first he bought the people’s hearts, there wasn’t anybody in this world who did not sing praises to him. I heard these two stories on the Bing Huo [ice and fire] Island from Yifu. This is the so-called ‘the distant road tries the horse’s strength, the course of time proves the man’s heart’. A man’s real character cannot be recognized in just a dawn-to-dusk period.” Further, he thought, “These two floats are different than the rest of them. They obviously carry a profound meaning. The man who prepared them must have a character of scholarly knowledge.” And then he silently recited that poem twice in his mind.

Suddenly he heard sounds like broken gongs. A float came by, pulled by a pair of thin horses. The float was very plain and simple without any decoration. As the crowd saw the float, they roared in laughter. “This ragged float also joins the ‘Tour of the Imperial City’, won’t it be the laughingstock of the people?” they said. As the float got near, Zhang Wuji was able to see clearly and he was shocked! He saw a large man on the cart, with his long yellow hair reaching his shoulder. His eyes were closed, and he was sitting on a couch. What character did he play if not Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Xun? Next to him stood a good-looking young woman wearing green, she had a teacup in her hands, as if she was attentively serving the man. Although her appearance was inferior to Zhou Zhiruo’s beauty, her clothing and adornments were exactly the same as the ones she was wearing at the Wan An Temple Pagoda.

“Miss Zhou,” Han Lin’er said in a low voice, “That girl looks like you.”

“Hmmph,” Zhou Zhiruo snorted, but did not say anything. Zhang Wuji turned his head and saw her complexion went pale, while her chest was heaving; he knew she was enraged. Thereupon he reached out to hold her right hand; while not fully understanding the intention behind this float.

The next float was still depicting the Xie Xun – Zhou Zhiruo story. The actor playing Zhou Zhiruo giggled while walking around toward the corner, then ‘she’ stretched out two fingers and suddenly struck ‘Xie Xun’s back with all ‘her’ might. “Ah!” the fake ‘Xie Xun’ exclaimed loudly, then collapsed to the couch. ‘Zhou Zhiruo’ lifted her foot to step on him, and then raised her sword ready to kill. The spectators broke in loud cheer, “Good! Good! Kill him!”

The third float of this ‘Xie Xun – Zhou Zhiruo’ theme depicted six or seven men dressed as beggars capturing the ‘Xie Xun’ and ‘Zhou Zhiruo’.

By this time all doubts were gone from Zhang Wuji’s mind; he knew these three floats were built by Zhao Min. Expecting Zhou Zhiruo and him to come to Dadu, she arranged for these floats to humiliate Zhou Zhiruo. He stooped down to pick several small pebbles from the ground, and lightly flicked them with his middle finger. ‘Swish, swish!’ the right eyes of the pair of horses pulling the third float were blinded. The pebbles entered the horses’ brains. With long neigh, those horses fell down to the ground, dead. The float flipped over and the actors rolled down to the ground. The street was thrown into chaos.

Zhao Zhiruo bit her lower lip and said quietly, “This witch insulted me this way, I … I …” Speaking to this point, her voice turned into sobs.

Zhang Wuji felt her hand was ice-cold, her body trembled; hastily he tried to assure her, “Zhiruo, this little ***** [orig. ‘muddy egg’] can think of hundreds of weird tricks, don’t pay her any attention. As long as I know your sincerity, even if others sow dissension, how is it possible for me to believe them?”

“Ah, I remember,” Zhou Zhiruo suddenly said, “That day Yifu was fine, before he suddenly convulsed and fell down to the floor, and then he started talking deliriously. Could it be … could it be that at that time this witch was hiding in that inn and she shot a secret projectile toward Yifu’s back?”

Zhang Wuji pondered for a moment before saying, “If she made her move then, she might still have enough time to make it to the Mi Le Temple in time. But based on her martial art skill, I don’t think she could evade Yifu’s detection. I am leaning more toward the Xuanming Elders who attacked him.”

While they were talking, the Mongolian soldiers had already pushed the people back and cleared up the street from the dead horses, so that the procession of floats could continue. Zhang Wuji and Zhou Zhiruo’s minds were still occupied by the recent events and they did not have any interest in watching the subsequent floats.

After the last float passed by, they heard intermittent sound of Buddhist monks chanting, followed by the appearance of row after row of foreign monks in red kasaya. After these monks, they heard the tinkling of iron armor, as two thousands ‘Yu Lin Jun’ [special force, the Emperor’s personal bodyguards] troops, in full armor, each one with a lance in his hand, made their appearance, followed by three thousand archers.

After the archers, incense smoke rose up to the sky, as one by one the idols were carried on sedan chairs by porters wearing embroidered clothes; from the Tu Di [Earth God], Cheng Huang [deity in Chinese mythology], Ling Guan [lit. spirit of government official – don’t know the exact translation], Wei Tuo [Celestial Guardian], Cai Shen [God of Wealth]. [Translator’s note: there is one more idol mentioned, but my copy missed one character] A lot of people muttered their prayers, while some went down on their knees to worship.

These idols were followed by guards of honor, carrying ceremonial articles like golden gourd, golden hammer and so on. Next, came feathered fans and jeweled parasols in pairs. The crowd called out, “The Emperor is here! The Emperor is here!” as from a distant came a large sedan chair covered in yellow silk, carried by thirty-two ‘shi wei’ [This is also personal bodyguards of the Emperor. Perhaps someone out there can explain the difference between Shi Wei and Yu Lin Jun] wearing embroidered clothes.

Zhang Wuji focused his attention to see the Mongolian Emperor. He noticed that the Emperor’s countenance was thin, pallid, and dispirited. In just one glance it was obvious that he indulged in wine. The Crown Prince rode a horse next to the sedan chair. Contrary to his expectations, the Crown Prince actually showed a heroic spirit. He had a gilded long bow, inlaid with jade, on his shoulder; truly fit the image of a Mongolian young hero.

“Jiaozhu,” Han Lin’er whispered on Zhang Wuji’s ear, “Let subordinate make an assault, with a stab of my blade I can assassinate the Tartar Emperor, and thus rid the common people of one big evil.”

“No, you can’t go!” Zhang Wuji said, “The Tartar Emperor is surrounded by martial art masters as his guards. If we are going to do it, I am the one who must go.”

“That is inappropriate,” suddenly the man standing on Zhang Wuji’s left opened his mouth, “Replacing one tyrant with another, I have never seen it work.”

Zhang Wuji, Han Lin’er and Zhou Zhiruo were startled; they turned to see this man, and saw he was about fifty years of age, dressed like a medicine peddler, carrying a medicine sack on his back, his right hand held a tiger-head stick. That man turned his thumb up and put his hand in front of his chest, making a Ming Cult’s blazing fire signal, and said in a low voice, “Peng Yingyu pays his respects to Jiaozhu. Jiaozhu is well, I am very happy.”

“Ah, you are Peng …” Zhang Wuji was very happy. It turned out that man was Peng Yingyu. His disguise was so ingenious that although he had been standing next to them for a long time, Zhang Wuji and the others did not have the slightest idea of his real identity.

In a low voice Peng Yingyu said, “This is not a good place to talk. The Tartar Emperor must not be killed.” Zhang Wuji was aware of his wisdom and knowledge, therefore, he simply nodded and did not ask anymore questions. He only reached out to grab Peng Yingyu’s left hand and gently shook it a few times.

In the meantime, the Emperor and the Crown Prince were followed by three thousand armored Yu Lin Jun. After them, the tens of thousands of crowds went down the street to watch the festivities. “Let us go see the Empress, let us go see the Princess,” they said to each other while heading westward.

“Let us also go and see,” Zhou Zhiruo said. The four of them mingled with the crowd until they arrived outside the ‘Yu De Dian’ [Jade Virtue Palace]. They saw that seven beautifully decorated raised platforms erected outside the Palace. The platforms were surrounded by the Yu Lin Jun holding rattan sticks to prevent the people from coming too close. Although it was very crowded, Zhang Wuji and the others, four people, managed to squeeze their way through by gently pushing forward and before long they had reached at the front of the platforms.

The Emperor sat on the highest platform, with the two Empresses on either side of him. The Empresses were middle-age fat women, bundled inside robes inlaid with pearls, jade and precious jewels. Needless to say, they glittered with brilliant lights. On their heads, they wore ridiculously strange-looking tall crowns. The Crown Prince sat on the platform to the left of the Emperor, while on the right platform sat a young woman about twenty or so, wearing embroidered gown. She must be the Princess.

Zhang Wuji’s eyes scanned the rest of the platforms; he saw that on the second platform on the left sat a young woman wearing sable fur coat, with a pearl necklace on her neck. Her smile was captivating, her eyes dreamy. It was none other than Zhao Min. On this same platform sat a long-bearded Prince with a majestic expression. He was Zhao Min’s father, the Ruyang Prince, Khakan Timur. Zhao Min’s brother, Kuku Timur, was pacing back and forth on the platform, with eyes like an eagle and steps like a tiger. He looked particularly imposing.

By this time the foreign monks were performing the ‘Tian Mo Da Zhen’ [Heaven and Devil Great Formation]. Five hundred monks with Buddhist religious articles in their hands circled around, to the left and to the right, jumping high and stooping low; the changes and variations were marvelously strange. The crowd broke into cheers and applause; everybody sighed in admiration.

Zhou Zhiruo kept her gaze on Zhao Min for half a day. Finally, she sighed and said, “Let’s go home!” The four of them squeezed their way out and returned to the inn.

Peng Yingyu paid his respects properly toward Zhang Wuji, and then they both recounted what happened since they parted. Zhang Wuji asked whether he heard any news about Xie Xun. Peng Yingyu had just arrived at Dadu from the Huai Si River area; he did not even know that Xie Xun had returned to the Central Plains. He told the accomplishments of Zhu Yuanzhang, Xu Da, Chang Yuchun and the others over the past year. They besieged and captured towns; they performed outstanding military successes and lifted the Ming Cult’s prestige high.

“Peng Da Shi [lit. grand/great master, also used to refer a Buddhist Monk, Reverend],” Han Lin’er said, “Just now if we attacked the platform, with one knife we could chop that Tatar Emperor; why did you let him go?”

Peng Yingyu shook his head, “This Emperor is a stupid tyrant and he is precisely our biggest helper. How can we kill him?” he said.

Han Lin’er was baffled. “The Tatar Emperor is a stupid tyrant; he has caused endless misery to the common people. How can he be our biggest helper?” he asked.

“Han Xiongdi [brother Han], you don’t understand,” Peng Yingyu said, “The Tatar Emperor appointed foreign monks for official businesses, and thus muddling the government; he also ordered the people to build a new road by excavating the Yellow River, tiring the people and squandering the resources, making the people angry and causing them to resent him. In recent years we managed to route the Tatars completely. Do you think that was because our ragtag troop is really superior of the Mongolian crack troops? It was because this muddle-headed Emperor did not use good officers. The Ruyang Prince is very capable of leading the troops. He managed to take things under control in everywhere the Tatar Emperor sent him to quench rebellion. The Emperor is afraid that if he rendered too many services, he would usurp the throne. Therefore, he continually reduces his authority, and dispatches some braggarts, good-for-nothing generals to lead the troops. As the Mongolian army fought the battle, these bastard generals can only lead them to defeat. Tell me, don’t you think this Tatar Emperor is our biggest helper?”

Zhang Wuji and the others nodded their heads in agreement. Peng Yingyu continued, “If we killed this Tatar Emperor, the Crown Prince would rise to the throne. Looking at his appearance, the Crown Prince is not someone easy to deal with. Granted, as the new Emperor, he might lack experience, but he is certainly better than his muddle-headed father. It would be really bad if he appoints veteran generals seasoned in battles to fight us.”

Zhang Wuji said, “It’s good that Da Shi promptly warned us, otherwise, we might act rashly today and spoil an important matter.”

Han Lin’er repeatedly slapped his own mouth while swearing, “I deserve to die! I deserve to die! Later on, don’t you dare to talk rubbish and propose stupid ideas!” Zhang Wuji, Zhou Zhiruo and Peng Yingyu laughed at his silliness.

Peng Yingyu said, “Jiaozhu, you hold a very important role, you bear the heavy responsibility of driving the invaders away and recapture our land; you must not brave unnecessarily danger. Subordinate noticed that among the guards who surrounded the Emperor, the number of masters is truly not a few. Although Jiaozhu is divinely brave and skilled, ultimately you will be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. If you fail, what good will it bring?”

Zhang Wuji cupped his fists and said, “I receive Da Shi’s invaluable advice.”

Zhou Zhiruo sighed and said, “What Peng Da Shi said was absolutely right; how can you recklessly brave danger? Wait until our great undertaking is accomplished, then the one sits on this dragon-chair platform will be you, Zhang Jiaozhu.”

Han Lin’er clapped his hands; he said, “That time, Jiaozhu will be the Emperor, Miss Zhou will be the Empress, Yang Zuo Shi [left emissary Yang] and Peng Da Shi [different ‘shi’] will be the Left and Right Prime Ministers. Now, that will be good!”

Zhou Zhiruo’s cheeks blushed, she bashfully lowered her head, but the corner of her eyes revealed that she was extremely happy.

Zhang Wuji repeatedly shook his hands. “Han Xiongdi,” he said, “You cannot say such thing again. Our Cult’s goal is to save the common people under the Heaven from the fire and the water. The goal accomplished, we retire. Don’t be greedy of riches and honor. That is the character of upright and real men.”

Peng Yingyu said, “Jiaozhu possesses a strong aspiration that not many people will be able to reach. It’s just that by that time, you may not necessarily be able to refuse the yellow robe [Translator’s note: only Emperor could wear yellow robe at that time]. During the Chen Qiao military revolt [960AD, the founding of Song Dynasty], did Zhao Kuangyin [given name of the first Emperor of the Song, the Song Taizu] think of becoming the Emperor?”

“No, no!” Zhang Wuji kept saying, “If I have the least bit of desire to be the Emperor, let the Heaven punish me and the Earth swallow me, let me die a wretched death.”

Listening to his determination, Zhou Zhiruo’s expression changed slightly, she turned her gaze outside the window and no longer said anything.

Four people talked a bit more, and then after dinner, Zhang Wuji said, “Peng Da Shi and I are going out to inquire information about Yifu.” He thought that Han Lin’er was hot-tempered, if he saw any injustice, he would certainly not hesitate to let his fists do the talking and thus inviting some unwanted disaster; thereupon he said, “Han Xiongdi, you and Zhiruo better stay in the inn tonight. Have a good rest.”

“Yes,” Han Lin’er said, “Jiaozhu, please be careful!”

Zhang Wuji and Peng Yingyu made an agreement right away that one of them would go to the west, and the other to the east. They would meet again at the inn to discuss their findings.

Zhang Wuji went out the inn heading west. Along the way he heard the people were still talking about the ‘Great Tour of the Imperial City’ that morning. He heard somebody was saying, “The Ming Cult is staging a rebellion in the south. Today the Guardian Bodhisattva of the Emperor was brought out in front of the people. Looks like those rebels will be crushed soon.” Another man argued, “The Ming Cult is under the blessing and protection of Mi Le Pu Sa [Maitreya Bodhisattva]; looks like the Guardian Bodhisattva of the Emperor will have a battle against the Mi Le Pu Sa.” Yet another man commented, “The excavation of the Yellow River has unearthed a stone figure with one eye. There are two lines of characters on the back of that figure: ‘Do not say that because the stone figure only has one eye, it is incapable of provoking the Yellow River world.’ This has caused some speculations that some things simply cannot be forced.” [Translator’s note: I am not sure about the last man’s comment.]

Zhang Wuji paid no attention to all these unfounded comments by simple people; he wandered aimlessly until the path he took started to get quieter. Suddenly he looked up and realized that he had reached the small inn where he had a drink with Zhao Min the other day. He was startled and mused, “How did I get here? Could it be that in my heart I still cannot let her go?”

He saw that the door of the inn was ajar, and noticed that it was very quiet inside, apparently there was no guest drinking inside that night. He hesitated for a moment then he pushed the door open and walked in. He saw the attendant was dozing off on the counter table. On a table toward the corner, there was a lone candle flickering weakly in the dark. Next to the candle sat a guest. This table was precisely the table they used both times Zhao Min and he had a drink. Other than this single patron, there was nobody else in sight.

As that guest heard the footsteps approaching, the guest stood up. The candlelight swayed and shone on that person’s face. To Zhang Wuji’s surprise, that person was Zhao Min.

Neither of them expected to see the other. “Ah!” they both exclaimed in shock. “You …” in a low voice Zhao Min said, “Why are you here?” Her voice trembled, revealing her exceedingly excited heart.

Zhang Wuji replied, “I was passing through, and came in to take a look. I don’t expect …” while talking, he walked toward her table, and saw that there was another set of cup and chopsticks on the seat opposite hers, thereupon he asked, “Are you expecting someone?”

Zhao Min blushed, “No,” she said, “It was because twice we had a drink here; you were sitting over there, so … so I told the attendant to set another set of cup and chopsticks.”

Zhang Wuji’s heart was touched. He also noticed that the four dishes of food and wine on the table was exactly the same as the food and wine Zhao Min prepared the first time she invited him over. From the bottom of his heart he knew the depth of Zhao Min’s feeling; he could not stop himself from reaching out to grab her hands in his. “Miss Zhao!” he said, his voice shaky.

“I hate it,” Zhao Min gloomily said, “I hate it that I was born to a Mongolian Prince family, and become your enemy …”

Suddenly, from outside the window came two ‘hey, hey’ cold laugh sounds, followed by something flew in. ‘Slap!’ that thing extinguished the candle on the table, that the room suddenly turned dark.

As they heard the sneer, Zhang Wuji and Zhao Min knew it was Zhou Zhiruo. While they were still at a loss, they heard indistinct footsteps on the roof and Zhou Zhiruo was gone like a wind.

“You are engaged to her, aren’t you?” in a low voice Zhao Min asked.

“Yes,” Zhang Wuji replied, “I shouldn’t conceal the truth from you.”

“I was hiding behind the tree that day,” Zhao Min said, “I heard your sweet words to her. I wished I could die immediately, I wish I have never been born in this world. That day I laughed coldly twice, and today she paid me back by laughing coldly twice. But … but you have not even said half a word to make me happy yet.”

“Miss Zhao,” Zhang Wuji said apologetically, “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t even see you. I have my people to think about, I shouldn’t make you upset. You are a golden-branch-and-jade-leaf kind of person, from now on you should forget this village kid, farm boy like me.”

Zhao Min lifted his hand up and gently ran her finger over the scar on his hand. “This is where I bit you,” she said in a tender voice, “Even if your martial art skill were higher, your medical skill were better, you would still not able to take this scar away. If you cannot get rid of the scar on your own hand, how can you take the scar in my heart away?” She wrapped her arms around Zhang Wuji’s neck, and then planted a deep kiss on his lips.

Zhang Wuji’s mind was chaotic to suddenly feel cherry soft lips on his, and sweet fragrance assaulting his nostrils. Suddenly Zhao Min bit his upper lip as hard as she could, until he was bleeding. And then she pushed his shoulder away from her as she turned around and escaped from the window, while calling out, “You are a pervert little thief! I hate you! I hate you …!”

As Zhang Wuji and Peng Yingyu left the inn, Han Lin’er said to Zhou Zhiruo, “Miss Zhou, you’d better go to bed earlier tonight.” Without daring to say anything else, he stood up and left the room.

“Han Dage [big brother Han,” Zhou Zhiruo smiled, “Are you afraid of me? You are not willing to be alone with me even for a second.”

Han Lin’er blushed profusely. “No, no,” he hastily said, but his steps were getting faster. He quickly entered his own room, closed the door behind him, and bolted it; while his heart was thumping madly. Trying to calm himself, he reclined on the ‘kang’ [heatable brick bed common in northern China], while thinking of Zhao Zhiruo’s tender and beautiful, simple yet elegant, countenance, and her soft but warm voice. He mused, “In the future, Miss Zhou will become Madame Jiaozhu. I will diligently follow Jiaozhu’s orders and will stake everything to set up a few merits. I will make Miss Zhou happy, and then she will say, ‘Han Dage, really, you troubled yourself too much to do this!’ When that happens, then my, Han Lin’er’s, life will not be in vain.” His daydream made him smile, and he drifted off to sleep.

He slept until midnight, and was awakened by some light tapping on his door. Han Lin’er sat up with a start and asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” he heard Zhou Zhiruo’s voice outside the door, “Please open the door, I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, yes,” Han Lin’er said. He went to the door barefooted, pulled the latch open, then quickly turned around to light the candle. He saw that Zhou Zhiruo’s eyes were red and puffy, her expression looked greatly different. Han Lin’er was scared. “Miss Zhou, you … you …” he stammered, without able to continue whatever he was going to say. Suddenly he got an idea; he dashed out the room while saying, “I’ll fetch some water for you to wash your face.”

A short moment later, he returned with a washbasin in his hands, still barefooted. Zhou Zhiruo gave him a mournful smile. She sat on the table, supporting her chin with her hand, staring blankly at the candle.

“You … please wash your face,” Han Lin’er said.

Zhou Zhiruo did not say a single word; she merely shook her head and suddenly tears start flowing down. In his fright, Han Lin’er was stumped. He relaxed his hands while still standing; wondering why she was so upset, and dying to know what it was she wanted to tell him.

The two of them maintained the silence for a long time. Suddenly a light ‘crack’ was heard as the wax snapped off the candle. Zhou Zhiruo trembled as if she had just awakened from a sleep. “Mmm,” she mumbled softly then she stood up to leave.

“Miss Zhou,” Han Lin’er said loudly, “Who offended you? I, the man surnamed Han will take my dagger to him. Even if I have to die, I will make a few holes on his body. Please tell me!” Zhou Zhiruo only shook her head sadly, and then returned to her room.

From the time she entered his room, Zhou Zhiruo only sat quietly for a long time. It appeared that she had wanted to unburden herself from her troubled mind; but all along she did not utter a single word, so that a hot tempered and rash man like Han Lin’er can only scratch his head in confusion. As she left, he stood absentmindedly, occasionally curling his fist to hit his own head. After thinking for a while without finding anything, he heard ‘bang, bang, bang!’ three times from a distance, and he thought, “Why haven’t Jiaozhu and Peng Da Shi come back yet?” Since there was nothing else he could do, he laid down on the ‘kang’ again to sleep.

While he was dozing off, suddenly he heard a couple of loud noises, as if a chair was knocked down to the floor, coming from the room to his east; it was the room where Zhou Zhiruo slept. In his anxiety, Han Lin’er leaped up from his bed and ran toward that room.

Under the moonlight he saw a dark shadow inside that eastern room, swaying lightly, as if it was hanging in the air. Han Lin’er was shocked. “Miss Zhou, Miss Zhou!” he called out, while stretching out his hand to push the door, but it was bolted from inside. Using all his strength he pushed the door with his shoulder and the bolt snapped. Rushing into the room, he struck the flint to light the candle first, and then turned around to see Zhou Zhiruo’s feet which were hanging in the air, while a rope was wrapped around her neck, and the other end of the rope was tied onto the beam.

Han Lin’er felt as if his soul was about to leave his body. Hastily he jumped up to pull the rope from the beam, and then laid Zhou Zhiruo on the bed. He felt for her breathe and luckily she was still breathing.

“Miss Zhou, Miss Zhou,” he called in a very loud voice, “You … why didn’t you look at the bright side? Why did you … why …”

Suddenly he heard someone from outside the door calling out, “Han Dage, what is it?” A man walked in, it was Zhang Wuji.

As Zhang Wuji saw what happened, he felt as if a lightning bolt had just struck him. With trembling hands he broke off the rope around Zhou Zhiruo’s neck, and then he felt her chest and found that her heart was still beating. “She is all right,” he happily said, “I can save her.” Reaching down toward her back and lower abdomen, he massaged her acupoints, while transmitting the Jiu Yang divine energy from the palms of his hands. After one round, ‘Wah!’ Zhou Zhiruo regained her consciousness and started to cry.

“Good, very good!” Han Lin’er exclaimed in exultation, “Miss Zhou is alive!”

Zhou Zhiruo opened her eyes and as she saw Zhang Wuji, she cried again, “Why do you care about me? Let me die in peace.” Suddenly she noticed Zhang Wuji’s upper lip was still bleeding, with some fine tooth marks on it. She could not suppress her fury; she raised her hand and heavily slapped Zhang Wuji’s face left and right.

Han Lin’er was flabbergasted; how could anybody beat the Cult Leader? But in his eyes, Zhou Zhiruo was like an immortal; so he was confused and did not know what to do. Right that moment, someone gently tapped his shoulder twice. Han Lin’er turned his head and saw Peng Yingyu. In his delight he said, “Peng Da Shi, you’re back! Quick, quickly advise Miss Zhou.”

Peng Yingyu laughed, “Advise what?” Toward Zhang Wuji he said, “Reporting to Jiaozhu: I did not find any information regarding Jin Mao Shi Wang [golden-haired lion king].”

“Hmm,” Zhang Wuji mumbled. He looked awkward.

“Han Xiongdi,” Peng Yingyu said, “Let’s go and take a walk outside.”

“No, no, we can’t,” Han Lin’er replied, “They are going to fight. Miss Zhou is certainly not Jiaozhu’s match.”

Peng Yingyu laughed out loud, “Silly brother!” he said, “Do you think even if the two of us are ganging up with Miss Zhou, we can beat Jiaozhu? I’ll say Jiaozhu is not Miss Zhou’s match.” He winked at Han Lin’er, and pulled his hand out of the room. Han Lin’er was still trying to turn his head, his face showed a deep concern. Zhou Zhiruo could not help but try to stifle her laugh, and then threw herself on the bed and wept again.

Zhang Wuji sat on the edge of the bed, gently tapped her shoulder and said in a tender voice, “Zhiruo, I did not have any appointment to meet her; it was tr