In the assembly hall of the Juhua Sect, six chairs were placed at the head of the room, each occupied by notable figures: Wang Butou, the Six Gates’ affairs supervisor; the renowned swordsman Lin Baozhi; Sha Clan elder Sha Wanhao; the respected local elder Dou Wutong; the martial artist ranked among the elite, “Furious Blade” Su Meng; and Qi Zhengyan, a disciple of the Huanhua Sword Sect.
Below them stood the elders and disciples of the Juhua Sect, divided into two factions led respectively by Senior Disciple Xiao Liang and Sect Leader Huang Huafeng’s legitimate son, Huang Huafeng. Their glares were directed at a youth standing in the middle.
The youth appeared bold and spirited, around seventeen or eighteen years old, his face filled with anger. Though he held his head high defiantly, his unease was evident, clearly a young man with little experience.
“You are Duan Rui, from Shaolin’s hunting village background?” Meng Qi spoke first, asking the youth’s name and background in a general tone.
Meng Qi’s identity had already been introduced by Sha Wanhao and confirmed by Wang Butou. The youth replied excitedly, “Yes, I am Duan Rui, from a hunting village near Shaolin. They have falsely accused me of killing my master!”
“Falsely accused?” Huang Huafeng interjected angrily, then turned to Meng Qi, “Master Su, my father’s study is a restricted area within the sect, traditionally used for private discussions. On the day he summoned this wretched boy, Duan Rui, only the two of them were inside. Outside, several elders and senior apprentices guarded the entrance, making it impossible for anyone to sneak in. Later, this boy rushed out of the study, running away frantically. Elder Gu, sensing something was wrong, looked inside and found my father slumped in his chair, blood pouring from his mouth, his chest caved in—he was already dead!”
“Can that be called a false accusation?”
Meng Qi listened impassively, secretly thinking that both Duan Rui and Huang Huafeng appeared genuinely emotional, making it unlikely they were lying. Could there have been a hidden murderer in the study at the time, who then slipped away unnoticed once everyone’s attention was drawn to Duan Rui?
His “Sky-Shattering Earth-Sundering Method” had improved, making him more sensitive to others’ emotional fluctuations. Of course, if someone was skilled at concealing their emotions, there was little he could do, so his judgment remained tentative.
“It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” Duan Rui shouted passionately. “My master asked about my martial arts progress, praising me as a rare prodigy in the sect. He said that if I succeeded in the martial path, I could inherit the sect leadership. I knew my experience was shallow, and I dared not dream of such a position. I was about to decline the honor when suddenly my master fell back into his chair, his chest caved in, blood spilling from his mouth—he was dead in an instant…”
“Absurd!” Senior Disciple Xiao Liang interrupted, his face filled with sorrow and anger. “Master Su, Young Master Qi, honorable elders, have you ever heard such nonsense? Duan Rui, did you see the killer?”
“No…” Duan Rui replied, frustrated yet honest.
Xiao Liang gritted his teeth. “After you fled the study, half of us chased you while the other half searched the study. There were no windows, and no one could enter or leave except through the main door. Yet inside, we found only my master’s corpse. If it wasn’t you, then who else could it be?”
Wang Butou pondered for a moment before asking, “Duan Rui, why did you run away at that time?”
Duan Rui took a deep breath. “I come from a rural village, inexperienced and unworldly. Suddenly witnessing my master’s inexplicable death, and finding no one else in the study, I panicked and couldn’t control myself. I fled in terror, fearing both ghosts and being falsely accused by my seniors.”
His experience at the Juhua Sect prevented him from speaking too crudely.
Meng Qi listened quietly, analyzing all possibilities in his mind.
The swordsman Lin Baozhi asked solemnly, “Then why have you returned now?”
“My master saved my life; how could I miss the seventh day after his death? Moreover, I have now figured out the entire matter!” Duan Rui stubbornly raised his head.
Sha Wanhao, still angry from yesterday’s encounter with the black butterfly, snapped, “Then explain it to us!”
Duan Rui clenched his teeth. “Revered elders, Young Masters, whether someone was hiding in the study—I was too flustered to search thoroughly at the time—but those who came later should have noticed. Unless… they were accomplices!”
“My master favored me and intended to pass the sect leadership to me, so some people grew resentful and committed this heinous act!”
Huang Huafeng trembled with rage. “Slander! Slander! You’ve only been in the sect for less than two years; how could you possibly be qualified to lead it? My father merely praised you a little, and you’ve already lost your head over it?”
“Less than two years…” Meng Qi suddenly had an idea.
Xiao Liang, furious, laughed bitterly. “Young Master Duan, your story depends on one premise: that you are not the killer.”
“You were delusional, craving the sect leadership but failing to obtain it, so you suddenly snapped, killed your master, fled in a panic, and later returned to spread lies. Isn’t that explanation more plausible than your story?”
“It wasn’t me! Definitely not me!” Duan Rui’s eyes reddened. “It’s all because of your greed and madness!”
Huang Huafeng calmed slightly, looking at Meng Qi and others. “He may not have been after the sect leadership. My father once privately told me that Duan Rui’s martial arts were unusually strange, and his background might be suspicious. Perhaps my father discovered his secret and summoned him for questioning, so he killed my father to silence him!”
By the end, he glared at Duan Rui again.
“I don’t have any strange martial arts—just some basic health exercises, not even proper techniques!” Duan Rui defended himself anxiously.
Meng Qi, deep in thought, looked at Duan Rui. “You came south from Shaolin about two years ago, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Master Su.” Duan Rui answered honestly.
The timing matched—right after Zhen Chang stole the martial arts manual…
Meng Qi remained expressionless as he asked, “Why did you come south?”
“My family lived near Shaolin for generations, surviving by hunting in the mountains. Due to my low martial arts skills, I dared not venture deep into the back mountains. But one day, a beast from the mountains suddenly rushed out. The Shaolin monks couldn’t save us in time, and my entire village was destroyed. That day, I happened to be outside the village talking with my adoptive father, so I survived.”
“Afterward, I followed my adoptive father south. Upon entering Jiangdong, he suddenly went mad and left me. With no connections in a strange land, I became a beggar, exploited by the cruel beggars of the Beggars’ Sect. Fortunately, my master took pity on me, rescuing me from misery and giving me a new life.”
As Duan Rui continued, his voice overflowed with gratitude for his master.
In this world, the Beggars’ Sect differed from what Meng Qi had read in martial arts novels. It wasn’t purely righteous but existed between good and evil. There were good people, but many were bad. Thinking about it, it made sense—those who became beggars often had little regard for morality unless their martial arts required them to live as beggars.
To put it bluntly, two-thirds of the Beggars’ Sect engaged in fraud, theft, and deception. They weren’t major villains, just petty ones, and since the sect still had honorable men and gallant figures, it hadn’t completely fallen into evil.
“The beast’s escape probably happened around that time… right?” Meng Qi suggested a timeframe.
With Shaolin suppressing the back mountains, beasts and poisonous creatures rarely escaped control. Meng Qi, having been raised at Shaolin, spoke with authority on this, leaving others unable to interrupt.
Duan Rui answered without hesitation, “Exactly. The anniversary of my parents’ death—I never forget it for a moment.”
No wonder Master Su, once a Shaolin outcast, knew so much about this!
“This must be true,” Meng Qi concluded definitively.
“But Master Su,” Huang Huafeng emphasized, “his background may be genuine, yet his martial arts are indeed strange. Perhaps during his time as a beggar, he received training from some evil master?”
Meng Qi was about to ask this very question: “What is strange about his martial arts?”
Before Huang Huafeng could answer, the respected elder Dou Wutong from the city interrupted, “Whether he is the killer or not, let’s first examine the corpse.”
“Reasonable,” Wang Butou agreed.
Thus, the questioning paused temporarily as several disciples brought the Juhua Sect leader’s corpse into the hall. The fatal wound was indeed a punch to the chest, breaking all ribs and rupturing internal organs.
Huang Huafeng unfastened his father’s chest garment, revealing the skin with a deep fist imprint:
“Revered elders, Young Masters, isn’t it obvious who the killer is by examining the fist mark?”
As he spoke, he tested his own hands, clearly not matching.
Meng Qi looked at Duan Rui. “You try it.”
Duan Rui inhaled deeply, approached the corpse, first kowtowed three times, then extended his right fist.
The imprint matched perfectly!
“Impossible… impossible…” Duan Rui swayed, his face pale, eyes empty and unfocused.
Suddenly, he shouted, pointing at Huang Huafeng and Xiao Liang. “It was you! You forged the injury and fist mark!”
Seeing this, Meng Qi felt puzzled. All evidence pointed to Duan Rui, yet his emotions seemed genuine. Could he be a naturally gifted “actor”?
“You still dare to argue? All clues point to you! Where would we even get your fist imprint to forge?” Huang Huafeng turned to Meng Qi and others. “Honorable elders, Young Masters, you’ve seen the killer now, right? Please allow me to avenge my father and apprehend him!”
Sha Wanhao and others nodded slightly; the matter had become clear.
Duan Rui’s face burned with fury. “You all falsely accuse me! You all falsely accuse me!”
Meng Qi pondered. “I have a method to prove your innocence, but you must let down your guard.”
Meng Qi’s “Sky-Shattering Earth-Sundering Method” had limited effectiveness against those with strong mental defenses and few emotional vulnerabilities. He was willing to use it now to confirm something.
“Master Su, I knew you were a good person!” Duan Rui exclaimed excitedly. “How do I let down my guard?”
Meng Qi’s reputation preceded him, so no one stopped him. All eyes watched as he instructed Duan Rui how to cooperate.
Suddenly, Su Meng’s demeanor changed. He appeared towering and distant, ancient and solemn, like a god overlooking the vicissitudes of the world.
Indeed, a man of great renown… Sha Wanhao and others couldn’t help but think.
Duan Rui opened his mind, waves of emotion surging, golden lights appearing before Meng Qi’s “eyes.”
“Rui’er, you are my final disciple. I regard you as my son, and I intended to pass the Juhua Sect to you, a gifted youth. But there’s one question I must ask honestly: where did you learn your martial arts? Why are they often strange?”
“Strange…” The boy muttered the word, head bowed. Suddenly, his right fist shot out, heavy and swift as thunder, striking the sect leader’s chest.
He raised his head, both eyes pitch black, his expression twisted and crazed, then turned to glare at Meng Qi, the “intruder.”
Meng Qi immediately stepped back. Though unharmed, he could no longer sense Duan Rui’s memories.
Could he also be suffering from a split personality?
Why did it seem like he had practiced evil martial arts?
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