Chapter One: Master Tang the Great

Tang Yi shouted loudly, “Stop!”
Within a mile around Tang Yi, tree branches trembled and leaves fluttered down. Though it was clearly the time of spring equinox, the scene looked like autumn!
Moreover, the thirteen people present were all shaken by this shout, their blood and energy surging turbulently. The three who were being attacked looked especially pale, and Bai Jianyuan, who was the most seriously wounded, could not suppress his internal energy, spurting out a mouthful of blood with a “pfft.”
Tang Yi swaggered out, shaking his head, secretly pleased with himself: “I never expected the Lion’s Roar to work so well. I should consider using it more often.” Tang Yi now possessed over five thousand superpowers, which sometimes left him unsure which ability to use!
Both sides of the fight had ceased their actions, channeling their energy to suppress the turmoil within. Leaves drifted onto their heads, and thirteen pairs of eyes stared blankly as they slowly approached Tang Yi. Everyone wondered in their hearts who this person was and why he appeared in such a desolate place. He looked like a monk, yet he didn’t wear monastic robes, but a tattered night suit, which was very strange.
Among the men in blue, a leader-like figure approached Tang Yi, holding his sword backward and bowing with clasped fists: “May I ask who you are, and why do you act this way?”
Tang Yi patted the leaves from his body and glanced at them.
“I’m Tang Yi. I just couldn’t stand seeing so many people ganging up on three. That’s all.”
“You… I…” The leader failed to suppress his throat, tasting sweetness, and spat out another mouthful of blood.
Tang Yi watched the column of blood spray toward him, stepped aside, and teased, “Oh dear, I’ve barely said a word and you’re already spitting blood at me. Tsk tsk, you really don’t seem like a good person!”
Cheng Tiansheng was extremely vexed. As one of the ten commanders of the Bloodkill Sect’s Blue Hall, he had received the task of besieging Hong Bai Lan and their group today. It was about to be completed, and with zero casualties. If he finished this task, he could advance to the Blue Hall, getting closer to his goal of entering the Purple Hall. To enter the Purple Hall meant a chance to touch another realm of martial arts—the legendary cultivation. So Cheng Tiansheng had been striving relentlessly, taking tasks just for that day. Unfortunately, this time an unexpected variable appeared, and today’s mission was doomed to fail.
Cheng Tiansheng no longer thought about completing the task; he now wondered how to keep himself and his nine men alive. From Tang Yi’s casual utterance and his calm demeanor, it was clear that the Lion’s Roar was effortless for him. This showed Tang Yi’s martial arts were exceedingly high, but even so, to use such a powerful Lion’s Roar so easily meant only one thing: Tang Yi was a cultivator.
Cheng Tiansheng was no stranger to the ways of the world; he knew much about cultivation. Generally, cultivators did not meddle in worldly affairs, only maintaining contact with the sects they supported. For example, the Bloodkill Sect was backed by a sect from the cultivation world, which allowed it to exist for nearly a thousand years. Cheng Tiansheng knew that the sect supported by the cultivation world required the Bloodkill Sect to pick promising talents and send them for training. This was mutually beneficial. All sects operated this way, supporting a worldly sect to maintain this cooperation. Otherwise, the cultivation world would not intervene, even if many died, unless the sect faced annihilation, for to lose a sect meant losing a recruitment channel. Supporting a new sect would cost considerable effort, so the cultivation world would not let their chosen sect be destroyed.
There were also some cultivation families, dividing their members into two groups: one in the world to expand the family, from whom they would select promising seedlings to strengthen the family in the cultivation world. These families were rare, and the dominant forces in the cultivation world were sects that had stood for millennia.
Thus, cultivators rarely meddled in worldly disputes, nor did they care to. In their eyes, even the greatest martial artists were no match for a cultivator’s sword. Cheng Tiansheng couldn’t fathom why a cultivator would behave so unassumingly—was Tang Yi a rogue cultivator? But even rogue cultivators were discreet, avoiding involvement in sect conflicts, especially those backed by the cultivation world. For a cultivator to intervene in such matters would provoke the supported sects, for even a mediocre cultivator could wipe out a worldly sect in moments. Rogues were the weakest in the cultivation world.
Regardless, Cheng Tiansheng just hoped Tang Yi understood the unspoken rules of the cultivation world and would not lower himself to kill them all, or else he would die with unresolved agony.
Tang Yi’s intervention gave Bai Jianyuan hope—hope for survival. As a leader among the thirtieth generation disciples of the Hundred Flowers Sword Sect, he naturally knew something about the cultivation world. He and Hong Qianshan, Lan Tingxuan were known as the Three Swords of Hundred Flowers. They entered the sect together at eight years old, but due to their physiques were not chosen for cultivation training. Still, they were prodigies in martial arts, achieving great skill in just ten years and attracting the attention of the sect’s leaders, who decided to test them. If they passed, they would be allowed to practice the foundational cultivation methods sent from the supporting sect.
The sect supporting Hundred Flowers Sword Sect was Divine Sword Sect, which backed five worldly sects. These five were founded a millennium ago by Divine Sword Sect’s ancestors, sent by their master to train in the world. The five sects were closely related, and Divine Sword Sect provided them with foundational methods—not powerful killing moves, but techniques to prolong life, helping them thrive.
Bai Jianyuan, like Cheng Tiansheng, couldn’t figure out who Tang Yi was. He wondered if Tang Yi was from their supporting sect, Divine Sword Sect, and knew the Three Swords, thus came to help. But he quickly dismissed the idea, knowing he and his companions were unlikely to attract the attention of cultivators.
Though he couldn’t understand, it mattered little—having a cultivator’s aid was a rare blessing. With this thought, Bai Jianyuan clasped his fists respectfully to Tang Yi: “Bai Jianyuan, thirtieth generation disciple of Hundred Flowers Sword Sect, greets Master Tang.”
Hong Qianshan and Lan Tingxuan immediately followed suit: “Hong Qianshan, thirtieth generation disciple of Hundred Flowers Sword Sect, greets Master Tang!”
Cheng Tiansheng remained silent, uncertain of Tang Yi’s intentions, only watching for changes. The rest of the Blue Hall, seeing their commander give no orders, each focused on their internal healing.
Tang Yi could have used his superpower to read their thoughts, but after trying it earlier, he found the mind control ability too taxing mentally—after just a few minutes, he felt dizzy. Using the Lion’s Roar was far more satisfying and effortless, so he decided to stick with that.
Hearing the greetings from the Three Swords, Tang Yi was taken aback, wondering if there were truly cultivators here. He decided to inquire further and replied with a smile, “Master? Of course I’m a real person—unless you’re all seeing ghosts? No, look, I have a shadow, and I’ve never heard of seeing ghosts in broad daylight!”
“……”
“Uh……”
Tang Yi, though not using his superpower to steal their thoughts, could tell he had stunned them. He coughed twice to clear his throat and spoke,
“Since neither side is speaking, I’ll say it: You men in blue, stand on the left; you three, stand on the right; I’ll stand in the middle.”
Seeing them obediently follow his instructions, like students in a classroom, Tang Yi was delighted. He never expected to command others as a teacher would his pupils.
“Very good, that’s right. Now we can speak calmly and discuss matters; there’s no need for violence, is there? Am I right?” Tang Yi addressed them with great satisfaction.
The Blue Hall members were furious at these words, but, faced with Tang Yi’s power, could only suppress their anger. Who knew if this eccentric might change his mind and wipe them out?
“Now, tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help resolve it peacefully, without all this fighting.” Tang Yi, though knowing one side were killers, was determined to be a gentleman like Chu Liuxiang, unable to tolerate senseless violence. After all, he had grown up in New China under the Red Flag, with a father who was a Party member, instilling in him the virtues of learning from Lei Feng and doing good deeds. Tang Yi was destined to be a saint, perhaps even a Tang Monk, uttering the heroic words, “If I do not enter hell, who will?”
Cheng Tiansheng rolled his eyes at this, nearly losing his breath! Bai Jianyuan, seeing his reaction, bowed and explained, “Master Tang, the matter is simple. The men opposite are hired killers, paid to eliminate us, but bear no personal grudge.”
“Oh, so it’s just over money? How pointless to fight and kill for such a thing! Money isn’t something you take with you when you die. Why bother?”
Hearing this, Cheng Tiansheng thought, “Easy for you to disdain money—you’re a cultivator. We risk our lives for money; without it we can do nothing.” The Three Swords thought the same, so nobody replied.
“Let me think… Mr. Killer, how much did your client pay to kill these three? Also, could you remove your mask? It’s rude to speak with your face covered.” Tang Yi looked at his tattered work clothes and examined the holes.
Cheng Tiansheng removed his mask, revealing a resolute face—no one would guess he was a killer. He bowed to Tang Yi and replied, “I am Cheng Tiansheng, Fifth Commander of the Bloodkill Sect’s Blue Hall. Before Master Tang, I dare not claim the title of ‘Sir.’ The bounty for this mission is ten thousand taels of gold per person, totaling thirty thousand. Bloodkill Sect has a rule—once money is taken, the target must be killed; there is no reason for refunds.” He reminded Tang Yi.
“Thirty thousand taels of gold. Let me calculate… one times six is six, four times seven is twenty-eight, five times seven is…”
Hearing Tang Yi’s rambling calculations, everyone present rolled their eyes, their energy surging again!
“Uh… Master Tang, thirty thousand taels is roughly one thousand eight hundred and seventy catties,” Hong Qianshan reminded him.
“Nearly two thousand catties—that’s a bit heavy to carry. Here’s what I propose: I’ll be the guarantor, let these three return and bring thirty thousand taels of gold to buy back their lives, and your Bloodkill Sect gives up pursuit. That way, you don’t break your rules, and your sect gets extra income. By the way, do you have thirty thousand taels of gold?”
Cheng Tiansheng: “……” His forehead began to sweat.
Bai Jianyuan: “Hmm… not that much for now, but if we borrow from the sect leader, we should have enough.” He was embarrassed.
“No need for the trouble. Commander Cheng, I’ll give you some deposit first.” Tang Yi waved his hand, and the swords in the hands of the ten Blue Hall men flew into his grasp.
“Ten swords together must weigh about a hundred catties—should be enough as a deposit. That’s settled!” He waved again, and the swords returned to their owners, but now each was made of gold, scabbard included. Originally, the ten swords weren’t so heavy, but with Tang Yi’s superpower, all the steel was transmuted to gold, increasing their weight.
Everyone was dumbfounded—never had they seen such a miraculous art, turning iron into gold.
Cheng Tiansheng looked at his golden sword in despair. He had spent dearly and owed a favor to have a master smith craft it for him. Though not a divine weapon, it was a treasured sword. Now, in an instant, Tang Yi had turned it into gold—he was heartbroken.
“Well, that’s that! Blue Hall members, you may go.” Tang Yi declared.
“Ah!” The Blue Hall men were stunned. To be let go just like that? According to the rules of the martial world, even if one is spared, one must leave behind a token—a hand, a foot, or at least a few fingers or an ear. No one simply lets their enemies go.
“What? Do you expect me to treat you to a meal before you leave?” Tang Yi saw them hesitate and grew impatient. He wanted to learn more about this world from the Three Swords and didn’t care to have a group of killers lingering nearby. The thought disgusted him.
“No, no, we’re leaving right away!” Cheng Tiansheng came to his senses and hurriedly led his men away, fearing Master Tang might change his mind. Better to worry about how to explain to the hall master back at the sect!