All over the world, no one can be a hero.

Very soon it was the Duan Yang Festival. Zhang Wuji led the Ming Cult warriors to Shaolin Temple. The Shaolin Temple’s front hall, rear hall, left and right side rooms, everywhere was overflowing with heroes and warriors from all kinds of martial art schools. Among these Wulin characters, some had enmity toward Xie Xun, so they anxiously came to kill him to avenge their grievance. Some others were there for the Tulong Saber, so they were dreaming of snatching the precious saber away and becoming the ‘most revered in the Wulin world’ [wulin zhi zun]. Yet some others were having a grudge against each other, so they came to seize the opportunity to avenge their grievances. But the majority came just because they loved the festivities bustling with noise and excitement.

The Shaolin Temple prepared more than a hundred monks as ushers; they directed the guests to their respective places. Wudang Pai had sent Yu Lianzhou and Yin Liting as their representatives. Zhang Wuji quickly stepped forward to welcome them and inquired about Zhang Sanfeng’s well-being.

Yu Lianzhou quietly said, “Did you hear anything about Qingshu and Chen Youliang?”

Zhang Wuji briefly told him what happened since they parted, and was relieved to learn Song and Chen, two men, had not stirred up any trouble on Mount Wudang, and that at this moment, Song Yuanqiao and Zhang Songxi did not come because they were guarding their Shifu and their monastery against the traitors’ evil plot. Yu Lianzhou also mentioned that ever since Song Yuanqiao heard with his own ears how his own only son was plotting against him, he was heart-broken and did not have any appetite for food and drink. Right now, he was half as thin as he was. They did not dare to tell their Shifu anything, for fear that Shifu would be grieved.

Zhang Wuji said, “I do hope Song Shige [martial (older) brother] realizes his wrong path very soon and repents, so that he can be reunited with Song Da Shibo [first martial (older) uncle].”

“That is so,” Yu Lianzhou said, “But this renegade has killed Mo Qidi [seventh (younger) brother], we cannot let him off lightly.” His voice was full of bitter hatred.

Within the next two hours, more and more Wulin characters arrived. The Twin Evil of Hejian and the Qinghai Pai swordsmen who fought the Jin Gang Fu Mo Quan the other day had also arrived. Huashan Pai, Kongtong Pai and Kunlun Pai also sent out their masters to attend the meeting. Only nobody from Emei Pai went up the mountain.

Zhang Wuji was hoping he would see Zhou Zhiruo; he wanted to explain to her why he did what he did the other day. However, as he imagined her face and her gaze, he became anxious from a mixture of fear and shame.

The Ming Cult warriors were assigned the west side room. They did not mingle with the other heroes, because they simply had too many enemies. They were afraid that as personal enemies meet, a big fight would ensue even before the Great Assembly was officially opened.

As the seventh hour [between 11am – 1 pm] arrived, the usher monks invited the guests to gather on a large open space to the right of the Temple. It was actually a several hundred ‘mu’ [1 mu is approximately one fifteenth of a hectare] vegetable garden on which the monks grew their food. But this time the field was leveled, and several dozens wooden shelters were erected on it.

The warriors sat on their assigned seats as directed by the monks. Any school, sect, clan or society with a large group of warriors occupied one shelter; while those with fewer numbers of delegates shared the shelter with other warriors. Peng Yingyu reported the name and origin of each and every warrior on the field for Zhang Wuji’s benefit.

When all the warriors had gathered, it was obvious that this meeting would be a grand occasion. Many characters who normally did not roam the Jianghu too often, who had lived in the privacy of the remote mountains and forests, also made their appearance one after another. Peng Yingyu estimated that not including the Ming Cult, there were about 4,600 people on the field that day. Seeing these numerous assembly participants, most of them were not friendly toward the Ming Cult, Zhang Wuji, Yang Xiao, and the others were anxious.

After the audience had been seated, the Shaolin monks began to appear. Beginning with the Yuan generation, followed by Hui, Fa, Xiang, and Zhuang, they bowed toward the audience. Finally Kong Zhi Shen Seng appeared, followed by nine senior monks from the Damo Hall. Kong Zhi walked toward the middle of the field, clasped his palms in respect, uttered some praises to Buddha, and then said, “The arrival of the world’s heroes in acceptance to our invitation today has brought great honor to Shaolin Pai. However, Fangzhang Shixiong is suddenly ill that he does not have the good fortune of seeing the virtuous guests. He therefore, asked Lao Na to convey his deepest regret.”

Zhang Wuji felt little bit strange, “When Kong Wen Dashi attended Grandfather’s funeral the other day, he did not look sick at all; he looked spirited and bright. With the kind of internal energy he has, how can he fall sick so suddenly? Could he be injured?” He looked around but saw neither Yuan Zhen nor Chen Youliang; he thought, “That night I exposed Yuan Zhen’s treachery to Du E, three eminent monks; I wonder if Shaolin has taken care of him or not. I wonder if Kong Wen Dashi’s sudden illness has anything to do with it.”

At the end of the Southern Song Dynasty, after Guo Jing and Huang Rong, husband and wife, had scored several major victories, they invited the world’s heroes and warriors to Xiangyang to discuss plans and strategies to withstand the Mongolian invasion. And now, almost a hundred years later, another great assembly of world’s heroes and warriors, the biggest grand occasion in the Jianghu, was being held; but all of a sudden the host was ill. It is no wonder the crowd of warriors could not help but feel disappointed.

They heard Kong Zhi continue, “Jin Mao Shi Wang Xie Xun has wreaked havoc in the Wulin; he has committed a very serious crime. Luckily, our humble Temple has captured him. Shaolin Pai does not dare to make the decision on our own. Therefore, we respectfully invite all honorable Wulin warriors to discuss how we are going to handle this matter.”

His face was long ever since he made his appearance; by now, he sounded lethargic. As soon as he finished speaking, he clasped his palms again and withdrew.

A man stood up on the southeast corner, his stature was big and tall, the black beard on his face was interspersed with white, and it was fluttering in the breeze, he swept his gaze on the warriors with a bright and fiery pair of eyes; in short, he looked imposing. Peng Yingyu quietly informed Zhang Wuji that this person was Shandong’s old pugilist master, Xia Zhou. They heard his thunderous voice say, “This Xie Xun has done too much evil. Your precious Sect unexpectedly able to capture him, the benefit you bring to the Wulin world is not small. Kong Wen, Kong Zhi, two Shen Seng [divine monks] are too modest. This kind of evil person deserves to be executed immediately with a blade. End of story. Why do you have to ask others? Today, the heroes from all over the world are gathered here, and we call this assembly ‘tu shi da hui’ [lion-slaying great assembly]. Let us put this Xie Xun to death, and then everybody eat his flesh and drink his blood, as a revenge for our innocent friends and relatives who died under his hands. Won’t we all be happy?”

His own older brother was killed by Xie Xun, so for the last dozens of years he always wanted revenge. As his words, several hundred people around the field echoed his sentiment; they all wanted to kill Xie Xun as soon as possible.

Amidst the commotion, suddenly a sad sounding voice was heard. “Xie Xun is the Ming Cult’s ‘hu jiao fa wang’ [see my note in Chapter 30 earlier]. If Shaolin Pai were not afraid to offend the Ming Cult, they would already have put Xie Xun to the sword early on; why would they invite everybody here to share the blame? I think, Xia Dage [big brother Xia], you are a bit muddle-headed. Let your brother here tell you something: you’d better watch out for your own life.”

His voice might be sad and high-pitched, sounded like a man, but also like a woman, but as it reached everybody’s ears, the words were very clear. Everybody turned their heads toward the voice, but they could not see who it was. Apparently, that speaker was short, and when he talked, he did not stand up. Sitting among the crowd, nobody could see him.

Xia Zhou loudly said, “Is that ‘zui bu si’ [drunken but not dead] Brother Situ? I have an enmity with that Xie Xun for killing my brother. A real man is not afraid of his own actions. I can ask the Shaolin eminent monks to take him out; I will kill him personally. If the devil heads of the Devil Cult want revenge, they can come to look for the man surnamed Xia of Shandong.”

The man with the sad voice laughed and said, “Xia Dage, everybody in Jianghu knows that the ‘most revered in the Wulin world’, the precious Tulong Saber, has fallen into Xie Xun’s hand. Since Shaolin Pai has acquired Xie Xun, how can they not be interested in the treasured Saber? Killing Xie Xun is secondary; lifting up the Saber to show their prestige is the priority. I’ll say: Kong Zhi Dashi, you don’t need to put an act; just take that precious Tulong Saber and hold it high in your hands, let us broaden our horizons. For thousand of years, you, Shaolin Pai, have been the head and brain of the Wulin world. With the Saber you won’t achieve much, without the Saber you won’t lose much; you will always be the ‘most revered in the Wulin world’.”

In a low voice Peng Yingyu said to Zhang Wuji, “The speaker is ‘Zui Bu Si’, Situ Qianzhong. This person is carefree; I heard he doesn’t have any master, does not take any disciple, does not belong to any school or society, and very seldom engage in battle. Nobody knows the detail of his martial art skill. His tone is always cold and condescending, but oftentimes right on target.”

They heard about seven, eight people in the audience say, “His words make sense. Would Shaolin Pai please take the Tulong Saber out for everybody to see?”

“The Tulong Saber is not in our humble Temple,” Kong Zhi slowly said, “In all my life, Lao Na has never seen it. I am not even sure if such saber indeed exists in the world.”

As soon as the crowd of heroes heard this, they broke into murmurs; the field was suddenly bustling with noise. The attendees were originally thinking that other than about Tulong Saber, this assembly did not have anything else of great importance. Who would have thought that Kong Zhi would flatly deny the possession of the Saber? Everybody felt strange.

The nine old monks standing behind Kong Zhi were all wearing red kasayas. After the commotion in the audience subsided, one of the nine monks took two steps forward and with a loud voice said, “The Tulong Saber was originally in Xie Xuns hands; however, when our humble Sect captured him, the Saber was no longer in his possession. Our temple’s Fangzhang realizes that this is an important matter of the Wulin world; therefore, he immediately launched an investigation. Xie Xun is stubborn and arrogant; he is unwilling to tell us the truth. Today’s great assembly of heroes, first of all, is to discuss how we are going to handle Xie Xun. Secondly, we want to inquire if any of the heroes has heard anything about the Tulong Saber’s whereabouts. Whoever has any information is invited to speak up.”

The crowd of heroes looked at each other; nobody opened his mouth. Again, the ‘Zui Bu Si’ Situ Qianzhong, with his sad and high-pitched voice said, “For the last hundred of years, there is a saying in the martial art world, ‘the most revered in the Wulin world, precious Saber slaughtering the dragon (Tu Long), ruling under the Heaven, nobody dares to disobey. Yitian (relying on Heaven) does not appear, who can match its sharpness?’ Other than the Tulong Saber, there is the Yitian Sword. I heard this Yitian Sword was originally in the hands of Emei Pai, but after the battle of the western region’s Brightness Peak, nobody knew its whereabouts. Just because today’s meeting is called the Heroes’ Assembly, could it be that the Emei Pai’s heroines refuse to come?” As the people heard his last sentence they broke into boisterous laughter.

[Translator’s note: ‘ying xiong’ – hero, where the ‘xiong’ character can also mean ‘male’ (mostly used to refer to male animal), so literally, ‘ying xiong’ means ‘brave male’. Situ Qianzhong used the characters ‘ying ci’ – ‘brave female (animal)’. By calling the Emei Pai heroines as ‘ying ci’, he was not being complimentary (He would have used ‘nu-xia’ if he wanted to be courteous).]

Amidst the loud laughter, a monk in charge of guest reception made an announcement in loud voice, “The Beggar Clan’s Shi Bangzhu, has arrived accompanied by various Zhanglao and various disciples.”

As he heard the word ‘Shi Bangzhu’ three characters, Zhang Wuji was greatly surprised. “The Beggar Clan’s Shi Huolong had died long ago under Yuan Zhen’s hands,” he thought, “How come there is another Shi Bangzhu?”

“Please!” Kong Zhi responded. The Beggar Clan was the biggest clan in Jianghu, so it was only proper for him to welcome them personally.

They saw a large group of people walk towards the open field in quick pace. There were approximately 150 men, all in rags and tattered clothes. The Beggar Clan’s prestige has been in decline in the last several years, but just like a centipede that moves even after it dies, it had not become placid; the Beggar Clan still has an enormous power in the Jianghu. The crowd of heroes did not dare to despise them; most of them stood up to show their respect.

The ones in the front were two elderly beggars. Zhang Wuji recognized them as Chuan Gong Zhanglao and Zhi Fa Zhanglao. Behind these two old beggars was an ugly girl of twelve, thirteen years; her nose curved upward, her mouth was wide, revealing two big front teeth. She was none other than Shi Huolong’s daughter, Shi Hongshi. In her hand was the Beggar Clan’s symbol of authority, the Dog Beating Stick. Behind Shi Hongshi walked Zhang Bang Longtou and Zhang Bo Longtou, followed by eight-pouch elders, seven-pouch disciples, and six-pouch disciples. It looked like the lowest ranking disciples within the Beggar Clan contingent this time were the six-pouch disciples.

As Kong Zhi saw the one holding the Dog Beating Stick was a little girl, he hesitated; he was not sure which one was the Clan Leader and thus was not sure to whom he should speak, but he was obliged to respond. Therefore, clasping his palms, he said without addressing anybody in particular, “The monks of Shaolin respectfully welcome the warriors of the Beggar Clan.”

Together, the Beggar Clan warriors cupped their fists to return the propriety. Chuan Gong Zhanglao said, “Our humble Clan’s former Shi Bangzhu was unfortunate and has return to Heaven. The elders have voted to elect Shi Bangzhu’s daughter, Miss Shi Hongshi to be Bangzhu. This lady is therefore our Clan’s new Bangzhu.” He pointed toward Shi Hongshi.

Kong Zhi and the crowd of warriors were taken aback. They remembered the saying in the Jianghu, ‘Ming Jiao, Gai Bang, Shaolin Pai’. Within the ‘jiao’ [cults, religions], Ming Cult was the leader; within the world’s ‘bang hui’ [clans and societies], the Beggar Clan held the place of honor; within the ‘men pai’ [martial art schools and sects], Shaolin Pai was the number one. The Ming Cult had elected a twenty-year-old young man, Zhang Wuji as their Jiaozhu; already people were clucking their tongues in amazement. And now the Beggar Clan pushed this little girl to be their Bangzhu? If it did not come from a Zhanglao’s [elder] mouth, nobody would believe it. In the past, Huang Rong was also a young girl when she took over the Beggar Clan’s Bangzhu position. Although it was a good precedent, at that time Huang Rong was several years older compared to this little girl.

Kong Zhi did not lack any courtesy in his surprise. He clasped his palms and said, “Shaolin disciple Kong Zhi pays his respect to Shi Bangzhu.”

Shi Hongshi bowed down to return the propriety; she seemed to mumble something, but nothing came out of her mouth. Chuan Gong Zhanglao said, “Our humble Clan’s Bangzhu is young. All businesses of the Clan are temporarily being handled by Xiongdi [brother, referring to self] and Zhi Fa Zhanglao, two people. Kong Zhi Shen Seng is more senior by far so you do not need to be overly courteous.”

After the two of them exchanged some modest pleasantries, the usher monk directed the Beggar Clan warriors to take their seats in one of the wooden shelters.

The Beggar Clan contingent was big, so it took half a day for all of them to be seated. Zhang Wuji noticed that the group of beggars was wearing mourning clothes; their faces carried grief and an indignation expression. The pouches on some of the disciples had things inside that were seemingly wriggling and moving. It was obvious that they came with some purpose in mind. Zhang Wuji smirked inwardly; he whispered to Yang Xiao, “We have some helpers.”

He saw Chuan Gong and Zhi Fa, two elders were escorting Shi Hongshi walk toward the Ming Cult’s shelter. Chuan Gong Zhanglao cupped his fists in salute and said, “Zhang Jiaozhu, our humble Clan shares a large part of responsibility in Jin Mao Shi Wang falling into the enemy. Even if we have to lose our lives today, we must redeem our offense. Furthermore, we want to avenge our Shi Bangzhu’s death. The Beggar Clan, from top to bottom, is under Zhang Jiaozhu’s command.”

“I do not dare,” Zhang Wuji hastily returned the propriety.

Chuan Gong Zhanglao was speaking with his strong internal power that his words were loud and clear; obviously, he deliberately wanted everybody in that open field to hear. As he finished speaking, the numerous Beggar Clan disciples stood up together and said in loud voices, “Respectfully waiting for the Ming Cult Zhang Jiaozhu’s command; we will not refuse to go through the water or tread on the fire.”

The warriors were baffled, “Since when the Beggar Clan formed a life and death alliance with the Ming Cult?”

Other than very few people who seldom roamed the Jianghu, everybody knew that for the past many years, the Beggar Clan and the Ming Cult were always at each other’s throat. A few years ago, the Beggar Clan participated in the siege of the Brightness Peak. The casualties from both sides were very heavy in that one bloody battle alone. On their last attack against the Brightness Peak, almost all Beggar Clan warriors were annihilated. And now, Chuan Gong Zhanglao had openly declared that the entire Beggar Clan force was under Zhang Wuji’s command, and that they wanted to avenge their former Shi Bangzhu, everyone scratched their heads in confusion.

Chuan Gong Zhanglao turned around and said in a loud voice, “Our Beggar Clan and Shaolin Pai never had neither enmity nor grudge. Our humble Clan has always regarded Shaolin Pai as the Wulin’s number one major sect. In case of any small misunderstanding, we have always exercised self-restraint as much as we possibly can, and have never dared to offend Shaolin Pai openly. As our humble Clan’s Shi Qian Bangzhu’s [former Shi Bangzhu] subordinates, we have always admired the Four Divine Monks of Shaolin as persons of virtue and prestige; as the model warriors of the martial art study we should imitate. Shi Qian Bangzhu had long ago lived in seclusion to recuperate from his injury in peace and quiet; for dozens of years he had not made any contacts with other Jianghu characters. But somehow, he had fallen under a Shaolin senior monk’s evil hands …”

“Ah!” as he spoke to this point, the people around the field called out in shock. Even Kong Zhi was taken by surprise.

In the meantime, Chuan Gong Zhanglao continued, “We come here today to ask, in the presence of the heroes of the world, Kong Wen Fangzhang to give us directions in treading this confusing path. What did our Shi Qian Bangzhu do to offend Shaolin that that Shaolin senior monk, even after he killed Shi Qian Bangzhu, had to be so merciless toward his widow, a lone helpless woman that in the end Mrs. Shi was not able to defend her own life?”

“Amituofo,” Kong Zhi clasped his palms, “Only at this moment Lao Na learned of Shi Bangzhu’s misfortune and that he passed away. Zhanglao keeps proclaiming that it was our humble Sect’s disciple who has done it; I am afraid there is a big misunderstanding in this case. Would Zhanglao please tell us the details?”

Chuan Gong Zhanglao said, “For thousands of years Shaolin Pai has been the ‘tai shan bei dou’ [Mount Tai (Taishan) Big Dipper Constellation, ‘as weighty as Mt. Tai, as brilliant as the Big Dipper’, meaning the ultimate] of the Wulin world; how can we dare to make a false accusation? Your precious Temple has an eminent monk and a secular disciple; we request that they come out and confront us.”

“Zhanglao please tell us what to do, we will comply,” Kong Zhi replied, “I wonder which two people Zhanglao wants to come out?”

“They are …” Chuan Gong Zhanglao only uttered the ‘are’ word, and suddenly he was tongue-tied with his mouth open, unable to continue.

Kong Zhi was shocked. He hastily stepped forward and grabbed his right wrist, feeling for pulse, which, unexpectedly, had stopped. Kong Zhi was even more shocked. “Zhanglao! Zhanglao!” he called. Looking at Chuan Gong Zhanglao’s face, Kong Zhi saw a small black dot the size of the head of an incense stick between his eyebrows; apparently his fatal point was hit by some poisonous secret projectile.

With a loud voice Kong Zhi shouted, “Fellow Heroes and Warriors, please understand. This Beggar Clan elder was hit by a poisonous secret projectile and unfortunately lost his life. Our Shaolin Pai has never used this kind of evil secret projectile.”

The Beggar Clan people immediately broke into clamor; several dozen people rushed toward Chuan Gong Zhanglao’s body. Zhang Bo Longtou took a piece of magnet from his pocket and put it in between Chuan Gong Zhanglao’s eyebrows. He pulled a steel needle, as fine as an ox hair, only about an inch long. The Beggar Clan elders realized that Kong Zhi was not lying; an upright and prestigious sect like Shaolin Pai certainly would not use this kind of evil secret projectile. However, someone had sneakily and unexpectedly launched a secret projectile, under broad daylight, under the gaze of thousands of eyes without anybody seeing it, and this was certainly strange beyond anybody’s imagination.

Zhi Fa Zhanglao and the others thought that Chuan Gong Zhanglao was standing with his face to the south, so the secret projectile must come from the south. At this time, the sun was shining dazzlingly, Chuan Gong Zhanglao was indignant and excited so he must have been unguarded against this kind of fine secret projectile. With angry glare the elders looked at the people behind Kong Zhi. They saw that the eyes of the nine old monks wearing red kasaya were half-closed with their eyebrows drooping down. Behind these nine monks stood a row of monks wearing yellow robes, followed by monks in gray robes. However, although they had no doubt that the murderer was one of these Shaolin monks, they could not tell which one was the villain.

Zhi Fa Zhanglao let out a loud and long laugh, while tears rolling down like rain from his eyes. “Kong Zhi Dashi,” he said, “Are you still thinking that we have brought false accusation towards Shaolin Pai? How will you explain what has just happened?”

Zhang Bang Longtou was the most hot-tempered among the beggars; brandishing the iron staff in his hand, he roared, “We will fight to the death with Shaolin Pai today!”

‘Clang, clang, clang!’ a chaotic noise was heard as the Beggar Clan people took out their weapons and charged toward the middle of the field.

With a grieved countenance Kong Zhi turned around toward the group of Shaolin monks. “Ever since our ancestor Damo arrived from the west, for thousands of years our Temple has established a strong foundation in diligent cultivation of the teachings of Buddha and the most refined in maintaining monastic discipline. Although we train martial arts for self-defense and have been interacting with the brave warriors of the Jianghu, we have never dared to perform dishonorable deeds. Fangzhang Shixiong [martial brother Abbot] and I have long ago given up the worldly matters. How can we still feel any attachment to this red dust …” His gaze swept the faces of the monks. “This poisonous needle,” he continued, “Who shot it out? A real man who dares to do it, must also have the courage to accept responsibility. Stand up and face me.”

None of the several hundred monks opened his mouth; some of them muttered, “Amituofo, sin, sin!”

Zhang Wuji’s heart was stirred, he recalled his parents’ story how his mother Yin Susu had posed as his father, Zhang Cuishan, and used poisonous needles to kill Shaolin monks, and thus had caused his father to bear the grudge despite his innocence. But the silver needles of Tian Ying Jiao [Heavenly Eagle Cult] differed greatly from this steel needle, both in shape and in toxicity. The poison of the one taken from Chuan Gong Zhanglao’s dead body looked like that of the western region’s venomous insect ‘xin yi tiao’ [one heart beat]. It was called the ‘xin yi tiao’ because as the poison from the insect contacted the warm blood, the heart would beat only once, and then it would stop beating altogether.

Zhang Wuji knew that Shi Huolong was killed by Yuan Zhen; he also knew that hidden among the Shaolin monks were Yuan Zhen’s henchmen. Consequently, the reason Chuan Gong Zhanglao was shot with the needle must be to close his mouth from mentioning Yuan Zhen’s name. Only at that time everybody was looking at Chuan Gong Zhanglao, so nobody paid any attention on who shot the needle.

Zhang Bang Longtou shouted, “Tens of thousands Beggar Clan disciples all know who Shi Bangzhu’s killer is. You want to kill others to close their mouths? Humph, humph! Only if you kill all Beggar Clan disciples under the Heaven! The murderer is a Buddhist monk, his name is Yuan Zhen …”

Zhang Bo Longtou suddenly leaped in front of his comrade; his iron bowl moved. ‘Ding!’ he caught a steel needle with the bowl. It was still unclear from which direction the steel needle was shot, but Zhang Bo Longtou had put all his concentration guarding from the side. As soon as he saw a bluish streak of light flickered under the sun, he lifted his iron bowl to catch it. If he was half a step late, Zhang Bang Longtou would certainly meet his violent death.

Kong Zhi’s shadow circled around to the back of the nine Damo Hall monks. ‘Bang!’ He kicked the fourth old monk down, followed by a grab on that monk’s collar. “Kong Ru,” he said while lifting that monk up, “It turns out that it is you! You are also ganging up with Yuan Zhen?” His right hand pulled down the front lapel of Kong Ru’s Buddhist robe. ‘Rip!’ the robe tore, revealing a small steel tube, with a small hole on the head of the tube, on his waist.

Suddenly it became clear to everybody: there must be a powerful spring inside this steel tube. That monk only needed to reach into his pocket, press the trigger and the poisonous needle would shoot out of the hole. He did not need to raise his hand or wave his arm to do this; therefore, even if one was facing him only a few feet apart, one would not necessarily be able to see him shooting the secret projectile.

In his grief and anger, Zhang Bang Longtou raised his iron staff and swept it down, crushing Kong Ru’s brain out. Kong Ru was a peer of the Four Divine Monks; his martial art skill was on par with them, but he was seized by Kong Zhi and the acupoint on his back was sealed, so he could not move. As Zhang Bang Longtou’s iron staff swept down, he was unable to evade. The crowd of warriors cried out in alarm together.

Kong Zhi was taken by surprise; he glowered at Zhang Bang Longtou, thinking, “You are too hot-headed; you did not even investigate clearly.”

Amidst this confusion, suddenly from outside the field four Buddhist nuns wearing black robes walked in quick steps, each one had a whisk in her hand. In loud and clear voices they announced, “Emei Pai Zhangmen [sect leader] Zhou Zhiruo, leading the Emei disciples, pays her respect to Shaolin Temple’s Kong Wen Fangzhang.”

Kong Zhi laid down Kong Ru’s body and replied, “Please come in.” He welcomed the guests in a calm and composed manner. The remaining eight old monks of the Damo Hall followed behind him. It was as if they completely ignored the recent tragedy and it did not weigh on their mind at all.

After the four nuns paid their respects, they withdrew, turned around and left as swiftly as they came. The extraordinary thing about them was that these four women came and went as if they were one person; their footwork was light and graceful, as if they were floating leisurely, like passing clouds or flowing river, surging waves devoid of discreet steps.

As Zhang Wuji heard Zhou Zhiruo was coming, his face immediately turned red, and he stole a glance toward Zhao Min. At that exact same time, Zhao Min was also looking at him. Two people’s gaze met. Zhao Min winked, it was as if she was smiling, but actually she was not. The corner of her mouth slanted down, as if in contempt; although it was not clear whether she was mocking Zhang Wuji, who was at a loss, or she was looking at Emei Pai’ bluff with disdain.

Unlike the Beggar Clan warriors who walked into the field on their own, the Emei Pai heroines waited for Kong Zhi and the Shaolin monks to go out and welcome them, and only then did they enter the field in neat formation. There were about eighty, ninety female disciples wearing black robes