Chapter 45: Your Surname Is Song?
Gulp.
Zhu Yiqun swallowed hard, his expression dazed as he muttered, “That’s just way too brutal… Compared to him, my old man seems downright gentle.”
Song Changsheng was also stunned. A late-stage Foundation Establishment blood demon had just been pummeled into obliteration, both in body and soul? Even if the old man of his own family had taken action, the outcome might not have been any different.
“Second Senior Brother, don’t let those blood demons escape,” Zhuang Yuechan shouted loudly to the burly man, clearly not surprised by what she had just witnessed.
“Hahaha, don’t worry, Little Junior Sister. They dared to lay hands on you? I’ll twist their heads off and give them to you as soccer balls,” the burly man replied with a savage grin, then lunged toward the fleeing demonic cultivators.
His methods were crude and direct. He caught up, planted a giant palm on their heads, twisted forcefully, and left headless corpses in his wake.
Every single one was dispatched the same way. It truly looked as though he intended to offer up their heads for Zhuang Yuechan to kick.
Zhuang Yuechan’s delicate face darkened at once. Her oddball senior brother really would do such a thing.
“Uh… Fellow Daoist Zhuang, your senior brother is really…” Zhu Yiqun was at a loss for words as he watched the burly man muttering profanities while twisting off heads.
Song Changsheng was also speechless. This was the most image-indifferent Foundation Establishment cultivator he had ever seen. Not only was he brutally violent, but his mouth was foul too. He couldn’t have been further from what one expected of a righteous cultivator.
…
About a quarter of an hour later, the burly man, covered in blood and dragging over twenty dripping heads, strode up to the group with an air of complete disregard for decorum.
He tossed the heads at Zhuang Yuechan’s feet, cracked a wide grin that revealed rows of yellowed teeth, and cheerfully said, “Junior Sister, here they are. Which one do you want to kick first to vent your anger?”
Looking at the pile of heads, Zhuang Yuechan nearly facepalmed. What did I do in the past life to end up with a senior brother like this?
“Why’d you bring those back? That’s disgusting,” Zhuang Yuechan took a deep breath and said through gritted teeth.
The burly man instantly realized he had messed up. He scooped up the heads and flung them aside, scratching his head with an awkward grin. “Next time, next time. I’ll pay more attention.”
Zhuang Yuechan shot him an annoyed glare, then turned to the others. “This is my second senior brother, Niu Dazhuang.”
“Niu Dazhuang… what a… modest name,” Zhu Yiqun muttered. Suddenly, his own name didn’t seem all that bad anymore.¹
Unlike Zhu Yiqun, Song Changsheng found the name quite familiar. He furrowed his brows in thought, then blurted out, “Niu Dazhuang? The first disciple under the Second City Lord of Falling Sunset City?”
“Hey, this little brother’s well-informed, huh? You’ve even heard of old Niu’s name,” Niu Dazhuang grinned broadly without the slightest air of seniority.
“Falling Sunset City? The Falling Sunset City where all three City Lords are Purple Mansion great cultivators?” Xu Yunhe’s eyes widened. That place was a paradise for loose cultivators!
“Yup. You’ve got good eyes too, kid. Pity about that missing arm but no matter, there's still hope at Foundation Establishment,” Niu Dazhuang looked Xu Yunhe up and down and gave an approving nod.
“If Senior Niu’s master is City Lord Zhan Tianxia, then Fellow Daoist Zhuang… your master must be…” Zhu Yiqun finally caught on and looked at Zhuang Yuechan with astonishment.
Zhuang Yuechan nodded. “My master is the Grand City Lord, Mu Guibai.”
Zhu Yiqun gasped sharply. Mu Guibai, wasn’t he reputed to be the mightiest cultivator under the Golden Core level in all of the Qi Kingdom? Even true Golden Core experts had to show him some deference.
“Fellow Daoist Zhuang, you’ve really been hiding your true self,” Zhu Yiqun said with a wry smile. Compared to her, both his own old man and the Song Clan had to take a back seat.
“Oh, enough about who’s hiding what. Junior Sister, you haven’t introduced them to me yet,” Niu Dazhuang waved impatiently.
Zhuang Yuechan nodded. “This is Fellow Daoist Xu Yunhe. His swordsmanship is excellent, quite rare among loose cultivators.
And this is Fellow Daoist Zhu Yiqun. He’s an medicinal chef, and he’s looked after me well these past days.”
Hearing this, Niu Dazhuang immediately stretched out a palm the size of a fan and thumped Zhu Yiqun’s shoulder a few times, laughing heartily. “At first glance, I thought you were a sneaky rascal, but I judged you by your looks. You’re alright. Thanks for taking care of my junior sister.”
Zhu Yiqun was nearly dislocated from the thumps, but he still forced a smile, though it looked more like he was grimacing in pain.
“Junior Sister, what’s his name? This little brother seems decent,” Niu Dazhuang pointed a sausage-thick finger at Song Changsheng.
Zhuang Yuechan's gaze became slightly complex. “This is Fellow Daoist Song Changsheng. He…”
“Wait.” For the first time, Niu Dazhuang interrupted her. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Song Changsheng. “Your surname is Song? Are you related to that Song Clan in the Wangyue Mountain Range?”
There was a sharp edge to his tone, and Song Changsheng’s heart skipped a beat. Could this man be a family enemy? But Grandpa never mentioned any enmity with Falling Sunset City…
He wanted to avoid the question, but his identity was well-known. If this was truly a vendetta, there’d be no escaping it. Bracing himself, he answered, “I am indeed a member of the Song Clan.”
“What?” Niu Dazhuang’s eyes bulged, and a fierce aura exploded from his body. The heavy pressure made Song Changsheng’s chest feel tight and suffocating.
“Senior Brother, what are you doing?” Zhuang Yuechan stepped forward in a flash, shielding Song Changsheng and locking eyes with Niu Dazhuang.
“You’re protecting him? You said you wanted to go out and temper yourself, we all agreed, the Masters and I. But now you’re mingling with someone from the Song Clan? Had I known, I’d never have let you leave!”
Niu Dazhuang glared furiously. It was the first time he had ever spoken so harshly to Zhuang Yuechan.
Zhu Yiqun and Xu Yunhe were completely dumbfounded. Weren’t they getting along fine just a moment ago? How did it suddenly turn into a vendetta reunion?
“Senior Brother, I know what you’re trying to say. But Fellow Daoist Song once saved my life. I won’t let you lay a finger on him. Besides, Master said clearly, there is to be no conflict between us and the Song Clan. Do you mean to disobey Master’s will?”
Zhuang Yuechan looked up at the snarling Niu Dazhuang, her tone resolute.
“You-! Fine, I won’t touch him. But you’re coming back with me today. You are not to associate with the Song Clan anymore!” Niu Dazhuang snorted twin streams of white air from his nose, seized Zhuang Yuechan’s wrist, and prepared to leave.
Zhuang Yuechan could not resist. She was passively dragged onto a flying sword and turned into a streak of light that vanished into the horizon…
A long while later, Zhu Yiqun sighed and patted Song Changsheng on the shoulder. “Don’t stare. She’s long gone.
But hasn’t your Song Clan always traded with Falling Sunset City? What’s this whole ‘no conflict’ thing about? I’m confused.”
Faced with his question, Song Changsheng could only shake his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know either.”
“Bah, forget it. Let’s not think too hard. Let’s clean up the battlefield. Lucky for us, they didn’t take a thing,” Zhu Yiqun rubbed his hands together and began looting.
(Chapter End)
¹Niu Dazhuang means something like Mighty Bull, and Zhu Yiqun can be translated into something like Vermillion Carefree Leader.