Chapter 155: The Martial Arts Alliance Assembly (Part I)

When those words were spoken, the two maidservants did not linger. Given their status, they could not decide anything to begin with. Even if they occasionally murmured amongst themselves, they had to do so with utmost caution, terrified of dampening someone else's mood. Because of this, Han Tanyi felt that their lives were quite difficult. He was a kind-hearted person, and once his sympathy began to overflow, it was truly difficult to rein in. Fortunately, the distance across the corridor was not long, and the two soon vanished from his sight. He had always been somewhat dazed and muddled; even though he had not squatted for very long, his legs felt a bit sore and weak, and it took him quite a while just to stand up straight. Still, he had managed to get the information he wanted, which naturally brought a sense of relief to his heart.

Although good wine does not leave one feeling wretched, a mild hangover is still inevitable, not to mention the fact that he had spent the entire night in thin clothing amidst the biting wind. Trapped between lingering intoxication and drowsy exhaustion, anyone would have found it unbearable. The best course of action was undoubtedly to get a good night's sleep. Early in the morning, it was unlikely that anything else would happen. Although he had only been here once, he could generally find his way to a bedroom, even though his swaying footsteps made him look rather disheveled.

Unlike the Blue Lotus Sect, Jinjiang City at this moment was already alive with the deafening sound of gongs and drums. That rhythmic clamor was so fierce and heroic that even the most bedridden sluggard would surely have been jolted awake. Of course, in a setting like this, no one had any desire to sleep. After all, if you did not get enough sleep today, you could always make up for it tomorrow. If you were in the mood, you could sleep for three to five days straight, and no one would interfere. But a Martial Arts Assembly was entirely different. If you missed this opportunity, there was no telling when you might get another chance to witness it. Ordinary folk aside, even the beggars who lived from hand to mouth cherished a martial arts dream. Therefore, long before dawn, the area beneath the high platform was already packed to bursting, everyone striving desperately to inch just a bit closer to the stage.

Time is a peculiar thing—sometimes it flies by, and other times it crawls at a snail's pace. It all depends on how one's heart perceives it. Those who had secured advantageous spots wished for the proceedings to begin immediately so that their hard-won positions would be secure. Those still trapped on the outer edges naturally hoped time would slow down, giving them a chance to edge further forward. Of course, the wealthy and powerful had no need to worry about such trifles; by spending a little money and pulling a few strings, they could at least ensure they wouldn't end up in a poor spot. For opportunistic speculators, this presented a fine business opportunity. For a time, coercion, trading places, and every conceivable trick of the trade were put on display, allowing some to reap a handsome profit.

Such scheming and maneuvering were entirely normal; no one found them strange. In fact, if someone were to turn a blind eye and remain completely indifferent, it would seem rather baffling. This point was vividly and thoroughly embodied by a certain figure. Whether due to a frame that was somewhat short and slender, though dressed in male attire, he looked scarcely any different from a woman. When others pushed and shoved, he stood as immovable as a rock; if someone tried to take his place, he would yield without the slightest hesitation. Logically speaking, someone with such a temperament should have been squeezed right out of the crowd. Yet strangely, his spot seemed anchored in place, never shifting by so much as an inch. No one paid him much heed, for today was not about him. Tens of thousands of pairs of eyes were fixed squarely upon the high platform, where Ye Hanguang, who had caused such a stir the previous night, had already taken his stand, looking as though he were about to begin at any moment.

"In the realm of martial arts, although the emphasis is on martial prowess, and it is an accepted rule that there is no second place in combat, opinions have always been divided on the superiority or inferiority of one's kung fu. What is deemed strongest today may not hold the crown tomorrow. They say mountains and rivers are eternal, enduring for millennia, yet even they witness the transformation of oceans into mulberry fields, let alone these martial arts. Only the two principles of martial virtue can truly command respect and be passed down through the ages from antiquity to the present day. My master, Dao Tianfeng, deeply understood this truth. Originally, he lived in seclusion in Qilian, dedicating himself to cultivation, ignoring worldly affairs in the pugilistic world, and striving to attain profound enlightenment in the virtue of righteousness!"

At this point, Ye Hanguang's speech paused noticeably. Public speaking relied heavily on atmosphere; when the timing was right, a single well-chosen word could be exquisite, far more persuasive than a long-winded discourse. Therefore, at this moment, he waited. He waited until the buzzing murmurs among the crowd reached a crescendo before raising his hand in a gesture calling for silence. Soon, the commotion subsided, and having achieved his purpose, he continued: "Yet as fate would have it, the winds and clouds of the pugilistic world are relentless. Although my master intended to cultivate in seclusion, alas, the Blue Lotus Demonic Cult, which had lain dormant for many years, suddenly reared its head once more. They seem bent on stirring up trouble and plunging the martial arts world into chaos. Even worse, three months ago, they went so far as to target Master Shen of the Bright Moon Manor—!"

His posture carried a faint hint of a sob. Ye Hanguang, if nothing else, was an absolute master of acting. With such emotional and vivid delivery, it would be difficult for anyone not to be taken in. Even Xia Wuhua, who knew him intimately, found it hard to tell at this moment whether his grief was real or feigned. Over the past four years, although a facade of absolute peace had been maintained between Mount Qilian and the Bright Moon Manor, beneath the surface, no one knew to what extremes their secret struggles had gone. Such a masterstroke of winning over people's hearts was something Xia Wuhua admitted he could not pull off himself. Perhaps this was the very reason why Ye Hanguang had been chosen to deliver the opening speech.

Of course, this approach proved immensely effective. Even though the Bright Moon Manor of the present day no longer retained its former glory, the accumulation of decades of cultivation meant it still commanded a massive following. Traces of the Bright Moon Manor could be found scattered across various sects, many of them held by no small characters. Consequently, expressions of sorrow crept onto the faces of those martial artists. As the saying goes, one mourns for those of one's own kind—perhaps this truly was the most authentic portrayal of the scene before them. Stirred up by such a performance, the atmosphere was like a blazing inferno waiting to erupt, with firewood steadily piled high by unseen hands, needing only a single spark to ignite.

"My master and Master Shen were acquaintances of several decades, bound by a deep personal friendship. For Master Shen to suddenly suffer such a catastrophe and pass away has been a devastating blow to him. Yet grief is grief; one must not allow despair to sap our fighting spirit and let the demonic cult reap the rewards. Therefore, his elder has resolved to fight the demonic cult to the bitter end, to prevent such tragedies from ever happening again. However, Mount Qilian is weak and isolated; relying solely on our own strength makes it difficult to contend with the cult. That is why we have convened this Martial Arts Assembly—to seize this opportunity to unite all righteous souls present, to share our hatred of the common enemy, and to fight the Blue Lotus Demonic Cult together!"

Just as Ye Hanguang's voice trailed off, someone in the crowd shouted out a slogan: "Eliminate the demonic cult and overthrow the forces of evil!" Instantly, the grievances and heroic passions that had just been kindled burst forth uncontrollably. Cheers merged into a deafening roar, their momentum so majestic it seemed capable of tearing the heavens and cleaving the earth. The sound lingered over Jinjiang City, refusing to dissipate for a long while. This was the exact effect Dao Tianfeng desired. Without stirring these people into a frenzy, certain arrangements could never be set into motion. Pawns were meant to be used where they belonged. At this thought, a faint, imperceptible smile touched the old man's lips, carrying a look of quiet triumph. Naturally, the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He rose from his seat on the side and slowly walked a few paces toward the edge of the high platform.

A figure of his stature needed neither words nor grand gestures; simply standing there endowed him with a natural, wondrous allure and power of command. Without any need for a signal, the area surrounding the high platform quickly grew still. Countless pairs of eyes focused on the exact same point, filled not only with anticipation but with an adoration bordering on worship. This spectacle gave him a profound sense of enjoyment. Suddenly, he understood why someone like Shen Wansan, having already attained such lofty heights, still relentlessly schemed to climb higher. It was because this sensation possessed a mesmerizing, intoxicating impulse. Yet what he failed to anticipate was that the higher one climbed, the narrower the ledge would become, until whoever lost their footing could only tumble down—and the fall would hurt immensely.

"As my young disciple just stated, and which I see no need to repeat, there is a saying: 'Though I do not offend others, others may yet offend me.' The crimes of the demonic cult are too numerous to record; their countless atrocities could be recounted until tomorrow and still not be finished. What is even more infuriating is that among our own ranks, there are still scoundrels engaging in unspeakable, hidden deeds. My eyes were blind, and I even mistook such a person for a friend in the past. With a wolf's heart beneath a sheep's pelt, I truly misjudged him!"

Though no name was spoken, the implication could not have been clearer. The name Dongfang Mingyue had once been a legend, a symbol of righteousness itself. But now, it was thoroughly infamous—no better than a rat scurrying across the street, reviled by all who saw it, wishing nothing more than to drown him in spittle.

"For this, I feel profound sorrow and guilt, feeling that I have betrayed this reputation and let everyone down. Summoning you all here today is not to beg for your understanding, but solely to unite all peace-loving, righteous forces to jointly counter the Blue Lotus Demonic Cult, to restore equity to the world, and bring justice back to the martial arts realm!"