Seeing that, Ye Baiyi’s lips curved up, his smile stiff and mocking, “If I wanted to do something to you, do you really think you could still stand there and talk to me? The qinggong skills you just demonstrated belong to the one-and-only “No Boundaries, No Traces” branch. Your shifu is the former lord of Si Ji Holdings, Qin Huaizhang, isn’t he? Hmph, when it comes to being small-minded you two really are birds of the same feather.”

Zhou Zishu replied coldly. “You are a highly respected figure in this pugilist scene, Monk Gu, but my Master had passed away long ago. This junior will not let you tarnish his reputation even if it means treating you with discourtesy.”

Ye Baiyi was taken aback, crying out, “What? Qin Huaizhang is dead?”

Zhou Zishu didn’t have the chance to answer him. Ye Baiyi’s gaze dimmed, his expression a little lost. He looked down. “Of course, so many years have passed… It’s been so long, I don’t… I don’t know anything anymore… Things have changed, even Qin Huaizhang has ceased to exist.”

Zhou Zishu examined him with a frown. Upon finding out that the other man harbored no ill will and was merely speaking cryptically, he relaxed.

He was sure that the person before him was the Monk Gu of Mount Chang Ming in legends, but had no idea how he had managed to retain his youthful look throughout the years. Maybe the rumors that he had reached immortality were true after all?

Ye Baiyi held out his hand. “Let me see your sword.”

When it was met with no movement from Zhou Zishu, his tone became impatient. “You think I haven’t seen that thing? It was a gift from me to your shifu way back then, and no one will bother to steal it from you, so why can’t I have a look? What an incompetent disciple Qin Huaizhang has!”

That was when Zhou Zishu was reminded that there were the words “Baiyi” carved on his sword. He once thought it was some kind of mysterious motto, but turned out it was this man’s name. His face turned sullen and he felt incredibly uncomfortable; involuntarily, he reached down his waist and felt around a bit before pulling out an impressive whip sword. He gave it to Ye Baiyi.

Ye Baiyi cast a quick glance at the sallow, malnourished skin of his hand. He scowled, scrutinizing him while receiving the weapon, “Always prancing around in such disgusting get-up – I hate this the most about you and your shifu.”

Zhou Zishu didn’t bother firing back. Damn old geezer, he thought.