Chapter 40: For Money
Chapter 40: For Money
“Old monk, impressive inner strength. Now face this blade!”
After being pushed back, Knife King spun mid-air as a gray aura flowed from his arm onto his blade.
The welcoming monk’s face paled. He’d seen this power before – during Cold Mountain Temple’s great upheaval, when the prodigy monk Jie Ming defeated all martial monks using this very force before defecting. True to form, even at full strength, the welcoming monk couldn’t block the second strike.
The blade sliced through his defenses, carving a crimson line across his chest. Knife King followed with a flying kick that sent the wounded monk crashing down.
“Master Uncle!”
Enraged martial monks swarmed forward, brandishing training staffs that whistled through the air.
“Ha! Perfect timing!”
Knife King advanced instead of retreating. The same gray energy shredded through decades of martial training like paper, rendering both internal and external skills useless.
Within moments, only Knife King stood victorious amidst fallen monks.
Jianghu spectators drew sharp breaths. They’d heard tales of Knife King’s power, but witnessing it firsthand revealed an entirely different realm of strength – that ominous gray energy being his true weapon.
“Pathetic.”
Sheathing his blade, Knife King gazed contemptuously at his defeated foes.
“Martial arts are obsolete. Immortal cultivation is the only true path.”
Fame moved mountains. Before challenging seven great clans, Knife King had been nobody. Now his name echoed across the land, inspiring countless youths. Let those Foundation Establishment cultivators keep their secrets – ordinary people only saw his invincibility. Where fame led, fortune followed.
“Do… do immortal cultivation methods truly exist?”
The question burst from the crowd – common Jianghu folk without Foundation Establishment potential or lucky inheritances. Rumors weren’t proof, but here stood living evidence.
“Naturally.”
Knife King didn’t glance back at Cold Mountain Temple’s defeated. His purpose here was served.
“I’ll stay three days at Suzhou’s Longan Inn. Any dissatisfied monks may challenge me. Knife King avoids no battle.” With that, he descended the mountain.
Cold Mountain Temple’s main hall.
Silence reigned amidst external chaos. An old monk tapped his wooden fish, detached from worldly affairs. Across from him, Jie Nian knelt until finally declaring:
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“Master, I must leave.”
Three heavy kowtows followed, forehead striking stone.
“This disciple cannot stay.”
The wooden fish kept its rhythm. Dong… dong… dong…
As Jie Nian reached the doorway, the old monk’s voice followed:
“Return when you find peace. You’ll always be Jie Ming – my disciple.”
The old monk was the current abbot of Cold Mountain Temple, the master of Jie Nian and Jie Ming.
“Yes.”
Jie Nian bowed and went down the mountain.
Suzhou.
Longan Inn had been bustling these past two days. Since Knife King stayed there, countless truth-seekers swarmed to treat it as holy ground. Many wished to become his disciples and learn immortal methods. This was genuine cultivation validated by Cold Mountain Temple—who wouldn’t crave it?
“Senior Knife King, I’ve revered immortal gates since youth. Meeting you today thrills me. Please accept me as your disciple.” A white-robed scholar with servants bowed below the inn where Knife King resided.
Another disciple-seeker?
Knife King peered through the window. After defeating Cold Mountain Temple’s monks yesterday, people kept coming. But how could Knife King, after his grand performance, take disciples lightly?
The scholar seemed aware of prior rejections. After speaking, he clapped. Attendants brought a cart with three chests. A man slashed the ropes. Chests clanged open, revealing piles of official silver.
“A modest gift, unworthy of your regard.”
Knife King’s breath hitched at the silver. Why challenge Cold Mountain Temple? For fame. Fame brought wealth—his plan all along. Yet he never imagined nobles would offer such sums, nearly dazzling him.
“To show sincerity, our Luoshui Wang Family adds thirty thousand gold taels after this ceremony!”
Cough!!
Knife King, pretending aloofness, choked on his tea at “thirty thousand gold taels.” He hacked violently, grateful no one saw his embarrassment.
“Such sincerity cannot be ignored. Young Master Wang, come upstairs.”
Regaining composure, Knife King deepened his voice invitingly.
“Truly, money moves even ghosts. Not even Knife King resists gold’s lure.” Jianghu bystanders below sighed. They weren’t nobles or talents—why else would they lack inheritance’s touch?
Ignoring the crowd’s bitterness, Young Master Wang entered and bowed.
“Wang Tianfang pays respects to Senior Knife King.”
Knife King opened his eyes. “Hmm.”
He’d toiled to build this lofty image—renaming himself Knife King, challenging sects for fame. All led here.
“Your immortal aspirations are clear. But what will you sacrifice?”
“Beyond the silver and gold, Luoshui Wang Family offers another hundred thousand taels!”
Young Master Wang acted not for himself. The world shifted—those in power felt it keenly, especially capital-connected families. His mission: secure a cultivation method, ensuring Wang Family wouldn’t lag in the coming upheaval.