The Scorpion smiled and said, “I dare not, I dare not. This humble one still treasures his life greatly. Since our target has been given the Valley Master’s protection, even if we possess the courage of beasts, we dare not tempt fate[6].”

Wen Kexing looked at him, annoyed, as though he was about to rip the Scorpion’s head off if he continued to speak nonsense.

The Scorpion continued, “I have come forth for reason no more than I was tasked by someone to pass a message to this Young Master Zhang.”

Wen Kexing raised his head to glance at those two youths, who were already causing a ruckus. Too lazy to bother with him, he walked back with a very foul expression. When he came to Zhou Zishu’s side, he dropped his gaze and rescinded his nasty comportment, before finally asking quietly, “Have you taken the medication?”

Zhou Zishu made an offhanded noise of acknowledgement, and asked the Scorpion, “What message?”

The Scorpion stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and raised his head to look at Zhang Chengling, who was still hiding and ducking earlier, but was now able to return a few blows despite his flustered manner, and could not help a noise of curiosity. This youth had produced a sword that seemed like scrap metal at some earlier point in time; one could tell upon first glance that it had been flippantly obtained for practice. His moves, which looked to have no order to them, seemed to conceal two exceptional sword forms. One was serene and proper, full of the noble aura of a nation’s finest, peerless talent, and the other nimble and charmingly unbridled--if it were wielded to its fullest extent, it would have been as pleasant to the eye as drifting clouds and running brooks.

The two sword forms were awkwardly stitched together in a clumsy and recklessly blunt manner by the youth; it was as odd as it looked, but there was an uncanny harmony to it.

The Scorpion could tell, too, that within ten moves, the seemingly-ferocious attacks of the child he reared would be neutralised, and sighed, “A reputed master will produce a fine disciple, after all.”

Abruptly, he raised his voice, and said loudly, “Young Master Zhang, do you want to know who the true culprit behind the deaths of your family is?”

Hearing this, Zhang Chengling was momentarily shaken. Once distracted, the chain around his opponent’s neck hurtled at him, and tangled with the sword in his hand. The sword was not any impressive weapon in the first place; it instantly snapped into two. Immediately taking advantage of his upper hand, the beautiful youth in pursuit lifted the dark sabre-staff in his hand, and swung it at Zhang Chengling’s waist.