Chapter Forty-One: A Visit of Condolence

Master told Song Yue that the Celestial Stele could be refined into one's body to become a life-bound magical artifact, but the process was by no means simple. A cultivator needed to reach the Foundation Establishment stage, while a martial artist required at least the level of Grandmaster. Moreover, only martial artists like Song Yue, who deliberately devoted effort to cultivating spiritual power, could succeed. There were also many preparations to be made.

As always, Master told Song Yue to focus on his own tasks; everything else would be handled. He then taught Song Yue how to use the Jade Void Celestial Stele to communicate with others, as well as the secret method for entering and exiting the secret realm through it.

Only then did Song Yue realize that the Jade Void Celestial Stele was far more powerful than he had imagined! According to Master, if all the Celestial Steles in this world were numbered, his would be No.1.

Song Yue was quite pleased with himself. Master cast him a cool glance and said, “The greater the opportunity, the greater the responsibility.”

Song Yue patted his chest, “Rest assured, Master, I was born a responsible and passionate youth!”

The two talked in the study until late into the night. Mistress came by to urge them several times, reminding that the food would get cold if they didn’t eat soon. Only then did Song Yue reluctantly get up. It seemed this was the first time in his life that he had been so absorbed in something that even eating, such an important affair, was delayed.

“You may enter the secret realm, but you must be cautious!” Master rarely spoke during meals, but tonight he admonished Song Yue. “What happened at Kunlun Gate this time is a lesson. Though you were not at fault, and your response was appropriate, it was still too dangerous!”

Song Yue accepted the advice with humility. One cannot be truly human without experiencing hardship, nor can one mature without suffering setbacks. No matter how many fights he’d had growing up, none compared to the experience of personally slaying enemies in the secret realm.

Master finished eating quickly, set down his chopsticks, and said, “The day after tomorrow I will guide you in activating the Thunderforce within your body. Rest at home for the next two days and prepare yourself; don’t run around.”

“The materials are ready so soon?” Song Yue was surprised. He didn’t know exactly what was needed to activate his Thunderforce, but he doubted they were common items. Master rarely left the house, so who knew where he’d obtained them.

“Yes,” Master replied succinctly. “Your Mistress and I are going for a walk. Head home, and come early tomorrow.”

Once again, as usual, he was being sent off.

Song Yue stood to take his leave. “By the way…” Master hesitated slightly and looked at Song Yue. “About you and that girl from the Qian family?”

My wife! Song Yue shouted inwardly.

“Just friends,” he replied, a bit shy.

“Friends? Her grandfather called me to ask about the secret realm. I told him my student stayed behind to protect his little girlfriend. He was very grateful.” Master waved him off. “Go on, go on. Young people’s matters are for you to sort out yourselves.”

Song Yue felt as if Master was shining from head to toe! He always seemed gentle, but actually was strict, even a bit rigid, yet to think he could be so adorable?

No way my Master is this cute!

Song Yue wandered out of Master’s house, the cool evening breeze on his face, heart still unsettled.

Master had actually lied for him, and conveniently earned a favor in the process! He’d told Qian’s grandfather that he stayed behind in the secret realm to protect her… He wondered what Qian-ge had told her family. Should he ask her? But then again, girls are easily embarrassed; what if she got upset? Better not. No wonder Qian-ge had said not to bother her these days.

Heh heh heh.

Song Yue was still basking in the thought when Meng Xudong called.

“Little Meng, do you realize you just interrupted my grand dreams for the future?” Song Yue answered, taking the initiative as usual.

Meng Xudong was confused, but knowing Song Yue’s ways, ignored the jab. “The Zhang family has set up a memorial hall at Star Martial Hall.”

“Hm?” Song Yue was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Meng Xudong sighed. “I just got the news. The Zhang family must be convinced Zhang Zixing isn’t coming back. They’re holding a memorial at Star Martial Hall. I’ll have to go over later; after all, our families have some ties. I’m letting you know so you don’t misunderstand.”

Song Yue laughed. “I won’t misunderstand. I’m just curious—has Zhang Zixing really died? What if he returns sixty years later with a whole brood of children? Wouldn’t that be awkward? What is his father thinking?”

Meng Xudong was speechless—surely Song Yue knew very well if Zhang Zixing was dead or not? But he didn’t press. Back in modern times, with phones so easily monitored, it was best to be cautious.

Song Yue continued, “Never mind. If his father thinks he’s dead, then so be it. Since we knew each other, I’ll go pay my respects too.”

“Are you crazy?” Meng Xudong nearly burst. “Brother, they’ve probably listed you as their number one enemy, and you’re going to drop by and pay your respects? What are you thinking?”

“What enemy? Zhang Jian is upright and gracious. How could he accuse without evidence?” Song Yue replied boldly. “I am a man of integrity, with a clear conscience! If you do no wrong, you need not fear the knock at midnight…”

Meng Xudong was about to collapse. “Don’t go yet. Where are you? I’ll pick you up and you can tell me what you’re really thinking.”

“I’m at… never mind, I’ll send you my location. You can drag me along, and we’ll pay our respects together!” said Song Yue.

Soon, Meng Xudong arrived in a luxurious sports car, lowered the window, and called out, “Get in!”

The exaggerated styling and the low, beast-like roar of the engine drew many glances from passersby. Song Yue opened the passenger door, ran his hand over the high-tech dashboard, and whistled, “Nice car!”

Meng Xudong replied offhand, “If you like it, you can have it.”

Song Yue paused. “No, that’s too shallow!”

He didn’t even have a driver’s license—what would he do with a car?

As Meng Xudong drove off slowly, he asked, “Tell me honestly, what are you thinking?”

Song Yue glanced at him, “Little Meng, your attitude is the problem!”

Meng Xudong was briefly stunned.

Song Yue said seriously, “I did have a conflict with Zhang Zixing, but ever since entering the secret realm, we haven’t had any contact! That’s not just my word; there are plenty of witnesses—yourself, Xiao Qi, Qian-ge, and some students from the Academy. Everyone can testify that we never encountered each other there.”

Meng Xudong hesitated. “But… what about that arrow with the note?”

“That arrow was fired by someone from the secret realm!” Song Yue answered, utterly without guilt.

He then continued earnestly, “Little Meng, if that’s your mindset, then maybe you shouldn’t come with me—otherwise, people might really suspect I had something to do with Zhang Zixing’s death.”

“So you want to pay respects to clear your name?” Meng Xudong stared.

“That’s too simplistic,” Song Yue replied calmly. “I’m going because I want to see what the Zhang family is really up to.”

Star Martial Hall.

White funeral drapes hung everywhere, the air heavy with sorrow.

Chen He stood at the entrance with several junior disciples, looking bewildered. He couldn’t understand why, when Brother Xing was only missing, Master Zhang insisted on holding a funeral.

The faces of Zhang family friends and relatives showed little real grief. After all, every time the Kunlun secret realm opened, there were always cultivators who lingered inside, seduced by the spiritual energy and resources.

Some returned sixty years later—like the group from Elite Martial Hall who had just reappeared, all of them powerful. Others never returned and simply settled in the secret realm, becoming true denizens of that world.

Zhang Zixing didn’t have a soul tablet, the secret artifact only great cultivation clans possessed, so why was his father so sure he was dead?

So, though the guests appeared somber and respectful, inwardly they were dubious, unsure of Zhang Jian’s motives.

Only Zhang Zixing’s younger brother, Zhang Zichen, dressed in heavy mourning, was kneeling before the empty coffin in the hall, weeping bitterly.

At first, he hadn’t believed it—his brother was so strong, armed with top-grade equipment, with Ouping, a prodigy from another world, at his side. How could he be dead? Surely he was just stranded in the secret realm!

But his father wouldn’t listen and had even slapped him hard, saying, “If not for you, how could your brother have died?”

Was his brother really dead?

Impossible!

He refused to believe it.

Mourners gave symbolic bows before the coffin, paying their respects. Zhang Zichen, as if oblivious, remained kneeling and weeping.

Until he heard a voice both unfamiliar and all too familiar. His body trembled, and with a dazed expression, he looked up to see the face that had haunted his nightmares for days…

In the next instant, Zhang Zichen leaped up, pointed, and cursed, “#%… Who let him in? Is everyone dead? How did you let him in? Get him out! Get him out of here!”

Song Yue, who had arrived quietly with Meng Xudong, looked innocent. He said, “Zichen, my condolences. The dead cannot return…”

“Get the hell out! Out!” Zhang Zichen was nearly hysterical. Here, in his family’s Star Martial Hall, he was like a dog in its own yard, emboldened by home ground.

All the guests looked on in confusion. Except for a few disciples, no one recognized this tall, handsome young man.

But seeing Zhang Zichen so agitated, everyone grew curious.

“Enough!” Zhang Jian entered, face dark. He glared at Zhang Zichen, “When will you finally grow up?”

Zhang Zichen broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Only with the help of two quick-witted disciples did he regain some composure. Through his tears he cried, “Father, that’s Song Yue! He’s the enemy who killed my brother!”

The funeral hall fell silent at once.

Everyone was surprised—what was this all about?

Song Yue?

Zhang Jian was also stunned. Wasn’t he supposed to be stranded in the secret realm?

Could the news have been wrong?

Song Yue studied Zhang Jian as well: a man in his forties, average build, handsome and scholarly, exuding the aura of a leader. Though he looked tired, his sharp gaze betrayed the energy of a high-level martial artist.

His eyes were calm, showing no hint of hatred.

“You are Song Yue?” Zhang Jian asked quietly.

Song Yue’s heart sank. If Zhang Jian had acted like his son, he would have been less concerned. This calmness revealed only one thing: the man was extremely shrewd!

Little Meng had said with certainty that the Zhang family viewed him as their greatest enemy, yet Zhang Jian’s demeanor was so collected…

“Greetings, Master Zhang,” Song Yue cupped his fists and, with utmost sincerity, said, “Your son and I had some misunderstandings. As my teacher, Master, would say—it was just a matter between young people, hardly worth making a fuss over.”

The guests, not quite following, nonetheless took note when Song Yue mentioned “my teacher Master,” and their gazes turned more respectful.

A student of the Master—not an ordinary person!

Song Yue continued, “Even so, when your son took his brother’s side, he never bullied me himself, only asked Chen He from Star Martial Hall to spar with me. I lost to Chen He…”

He looked into the crowd for Chen He, who was staring in confusion, and cupped his fists, “I lost to you last time, and in my mood then, forgot to thank you for your mercy.”

Chen He stammered, “I… don’t mention it!”

Song Yue turned back to Zhang Jian. “That defeat taught me humility. I learned there are always greater heights, and dared not be prideful again.”

“Your son was composed and generous, a model young man worthy of respect!”

“I had hoped, upon returning from the secret realm, to clear up misunderstandings with Zichen and learn from Zixing as well.”

“Alas, Heaven envies the talented! Who could have foreseen his untimely death? It is truly heartbreaking!”

With a voice full of sorrow, Song Yue continued, “Today, I come uninvited only to burn three sticks of incense in person, to see him off one last time. I am but a rough martial artist, disciple of Master, but a martial artist nonetheless. If I have caused offense, I ask your forgiveness.”

His words rang with conviction.

Countless people inwardly gave him a thumbs up—a true model youth!

Rough-mannered? Not at all!

See for yourselves!

A student of Master is different indeed! Polite, measured—not resentful even after being targeted by Zhang Zixing on his brother’s behalf, but instead coming in person to pay his respects after hearing such sad news.

This breadth of heart was truly exemplary for today’s youth!

Though Song Yue said nothing disrespectful, everyone present now understood: Zhang Zixing had once backed his brother and asked someone to teach Song Yue a lesson. Song Yue lost, but bore no grudge, and even thanked the victor in person.

Chen He, after all, was a young prodigy and master in his own right—defeating Master’s disciple was no surprise. Master was famed for his wisdom, not his martial prowess.

Zhang Jian was at a loss for words.

He couldn’t very well admit that the assassin he’d sent after Song Yue had also failed to return!

Nor could he reveal that the funeral was, in truth, a pretext to publicly declare the killer to be Song Yue, in order to unite all possible allies against Song Yue’s family!

How had Song Yue returned?

How had he made it out of the secret realm?

But none of that mattered now.

All his careful planning had been shattered by Song Yue’s sincere and stirring visit!

This youth, not yet twenty, had left him speechless.

“Song Yue, you’re the murderer! You killed my brother! You beast!” Zhang Zichen suddenly erupted again, screaming in fury.

“Enough!” Song Yue snapped.

He looked sternly at the stunned Zhang Zichen. “Zhang Zichen, you and I have indeed had our differences. But youthful tempers are nothing. Now your brother is gone—you should grow up! This is a funeral hall, and though the coffin is empty, it stands for your brother’s grave. Why are you shouting here?”

Zhang Zichen was left speechless.

Song Yue fixed him with a serious gaze. “Aren’t you going to fetch three sticks of incense? I wish to pay my respects to your brother.”

---------

Heh, not even midnight yet. By the way, please remember to cast your guaranteed monthly and recommendation votes!