Chapter 71: Throwing Stones to Fill the Abyss

The Six Immortals of Peach Valley never expected Zheng Jian to be so formidable. In the blink of an eye, he had subdued all six of them. Their eyes widened in shock, but their mute acupoints had been sealed, rendering them immobile and speechless; each was frantic with anxiety.

“Resentment value from Peach Branch Immortal +200.”
“Resentment value from Peach Root Immortal +200.”
…
Almost simultaneously, all six contributed a wave of resentment points to Zheng Jian, and, curiously enough, each exactly two hundred, as if they shared a single mind. Zheng Jian found this most satisfying.

But as for how to deal with the Six Immortals of Peach Valley, Zheng Jian found himself at a bit of a loss. These six—while not exactly evil—could hardly be called good, either.

At the slightest disagreement, this group would seize a man and tear him to shreds. In the original tale, during their first appearance, the Six Immortals captured Cheng Buyou of the Sword Sect and dismembered him without hesitation—a grisly fate indeed.

Yet, to call these lunatics villains is also hard to define. After all, one cannot judge the mad by the logic of the sane…

After some thought, Zheng Jian decided to spare them. He spoke: “Six Immortals of Peach Valley, I am Zheng Jian. I have always preferred to win others over with virtue. Do you submit?”

“If you do, move your eyes up and down; if not, move them left and right.”

At his words, their eyes spun wildly. This time, all six simultaneously indicated their submission with an up-and-down motion.

Though not in their right minds, they knew that anyone who could subdue all six of them in an instant must possess overwhelming power. Submission was the only choice.

“Good. Today, I’ll let you go, but on one condition: from now on, whenever you encounter anyone from Mount Hua Sect, you must avoid them by a wide margin. Do you agree? If so, move your eyes up and down again,” Zheng Jian said with a smile.

The six nodded with their eyes at once. Yet, one of them then moved his eyes left and right.

“Oh? You don’t agree?” Zheng Jian asked, surprised. Was this one not afraid of death?

That Immortal’s eyes darted anxiously, clearly wanting to say something. Zheng Jian thought for a moment and then released his mute acupoint. “Speak. Do you agree or not?”

“Avoid by a wide margin? What does that mean?” It was the Peach Immortal whose acupoint was released, and he could not wait to ask.

Zheng Jian was speechless. It really is terrifying to lack education!

“It means that if you ever see anyone from Mount Hua Sect, you go the other way. Do you understand now?”

“Got it, got it! If we ever see anyone from Mount Hua Sect, we’ll avoid them,” answered Peach Immortal eagerly.

Only then did Zheng Jian unseal the others. He was not afraid they would go back on their word; for all their madness and tangled speech, the original novel showed they could keep a promise—on that point, at least, he could be at ease.

“All right, you may go,” Zheng Jian said with a smile.

The six, relieved as if granted amnesty, glanced at each other, still fearful of Zheng Jian. Without looking back, they sped away using their lightness skill, vanishing into the night in an instant.

Linghu Chong, face flushed with shame, bowed his head. “Once again, Senior Brother has had to trouble himself for me.” He had thought his martial arts much improved, but when he encountered these six eccentrics, he still could not overcome them. If not for Zheng Jian’s timely arrival, who knew what dreadful fate awaited him at their hands?

Zheng Jian shook his head. “It’s nothing. You need not feel ashamed. These six, though not sane, are highly skilled. Working together, few in the martial world can match them. You did well to hold out as long as you did.”

In the original story, the six appeared and promptly captured Cheng Buyou, a master of the Sword Sect, with their superb agility and immense strength. Working in concert, they were nearly invincible. Cheng Buyou, though perhaps not quite the equal of Feng Buping, was nonetheless a first-rate expert—yet he was gruesomely slain by them. Their prowess was clear.

When they returned to the ruined temple, Linghu Chong recounted everything to Elder Yue, who listened with his heart pounding. Thank heavens Zheng Jian had arrived quickly; had he been a moment later, Linghu Chong would have fallen into the hands of those six, and Elder Yue would have been heartsick.

“New masters appear in the martial world every day, and though these six are not widely known, their skills are astonishing!” Elder Yue reflected that even for himself, subduing all six would be no easy feat—he could not help but sigh inwardly.

…

The journey continued without further incident, and the group reached the territory of Mount Song within Luoyang without trouble. At the foot of the mountain, it was the thirteenth—two days before the grand assembly.

Elder Yue arranged for the group to stay at an inn in the nearby town, knowing they were weary from travel and needed rest.

On the fifteenth, Elder Yue led the disciples of Mount Hua up the mountain at dawn.

As they reached the foothills, four disciples of Mount Song appeared to greet them. Upon recognizing Elder Yue, they bowed. “We, humble disciples of Mount Song, welcome Sect Leader Yue and the esteemed company from Mount Hua. Our master awaits you on the mountain. Please, come this way.”

Elder Yue nodded with a smile, asking, “Have the other sects arrived yet?”

The disciple replied, “The elders and disciples from Mount Tai, Mount Heng, and Mount Hengshan all arrived yesterday.”

Thus, the group ascended the mountain, finding the path swept clean. At intervals along the way, disciples of Mount Song stood ready, offering tea and refreshments.

Witnessing such arrangements, Elder Yue was quietly impressed. Whatever else might be said, Zuo Lengchan had prepared most thoroughly—clearly, he had grand ambitions for this assembly.

It was Zheng Jian’s first time visiting Mount Song. He sensed that the disciples recognized him; many gazed at him with undisguised animosity. But Zheng Jian paid them no mind.

To him, these Mount Song disciples were no different from ants—no need to waste a thought on them.

As they walked, a disciple of Mount Song acted as their guide, introducing the scenery. While Mount Hua was famed for its perilous beauty, Mount Song was renowned for its majesty. “Sect Leader Yue, among the Five Sacred Mountains, Mount Song holds the central place, known as the chief of all peaks. No wonder emperors through the ages have chosen to build their capitals at its foot.”

Luoyang indeed lay at Mount Song’s base, so the words rang true. Yet Elder Yue was no ordinary man; he immediately heard the meaning behind the disciple’s words. With a smile he replied, “We are all men of the martial world. What concern do we have with the affairs of the court?”

The disciple’s implication was clear: if Mount Song is the chief of mountains, then its leader, Master Zuo, should be the leader of all sects. Elder Yue’s reply was equally deft: we are men of the rivers and lakes—why bring in the imperial court?

The mountain path narrowed. The disciple explained, “This is Iron Beam Gorge, ten thousand fathoms deep.” As he spoke, he casually picked up a large stone and tossed it into the abyss. At first, the sound of its descent was loud, but then gradually faded away.

Zheng Jian laughed. “Brother, your spirit is like that of the Foolish Old Man who moved mountains. If every disciple of Mount Song throws one stone a day, and their descendants continue without end, surely, one day, this abyss will be filled.”

The disciple was momentarily taken aback, his self-satisfied expression freezing.

“Resentment value from Wan Daping +200.”
…

(End of Chapter)