Returning after 10000 Years Cultivation - Chapter 113

“Master Silver Moon was severely injured, nearly killed by Jiang Taichu’s Qi Blade…”

“Left Sect Master Zuo Zimu unleashed the Five Thunder Jade Talisman—a gift from the Dragon-Tiger Mountain’s Celestial Master Sect—summoning lightning over ten meters long. Yet Jiang Taichu bathed in the thunder, took flight, and seized control of the lightning itself, shattering the twenty-meter-tall statue of Shennong. In the end, Zuo Zimu knelt in surrender…”

Recalling the terrifying battle, Hong Luoshui trembled violently, his face deathly pale.

“He suppressed both Master Silver Moon and Zuo Zimu! He withstood the Five Thunder Jade Talisman!”

Hong Junshan’s expression twisted as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight. His voice shook as he whispered, “He cultivates both magic and martial arts!”

“Yes! Afterward, Sect Master Zuo himself said it—Jiang Taichu has attained the Dao Body in sorcery, rivals veteran grandmasters in martial arts, and in alchemy, he could already be called a Pill King or Pill Sovereign!”

The moment Hong Luoshui spoke these words, the room fell into dead silence. Everyone stood frozen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, unable to believe what they were hearing.

Hong Junshan’s face cycled through a storm of emotions before he finally let out a deep sigh. “A Dao Body makes one a True Master, his martial arts match veteran grandmasters, and he’s also a master of alchemy… Such a man is beyond our reach. We cannot afford to offend him!”

“Grandfather, what are you saying? Should my father’s death just go unavenged?”

Hong Hetu, hot-tempered and impulsive, flushed crimson with rage and roared.

“Silence! Have you no sense of restraint?”

Hong Junshan slammed the table, his stern gaze sweeping the room like a blade. His voice was icy.

“From this day forward, if anyone dares to provoke Jiang Taichu and brings calamity upon the Hong family—they will die without mercy!”

At these words, the Hong family members deflated like punctured balloons, their faces etched with despair and helplessness.

And it wasn’t just the Hong family.

News spread like wildfire—reaching the Tang Sect of Sichuan, the Pigua Fist Sect of Zhongzhou, and other prominent martial clans and sects.

“Have you heard? A martial grandmaster has emerged in Linzhou! And they say he’s only in his twenties!”

“Nonsense! A martial grandmaster is a master of the Transformation Realm. No one under forty could reach that level!”

“Why would I lie? In Hankou, he killed Hong Tianzhao—the Hong family’s patriarch and a Transformation Realm grandmaster!”

“What? Hong Tianzhao had been in the Transformation Realm for over a decade! Who is this man?”

“Jiang Taichu. From Linzhou.”

Since Jiang Tian’s return to cultivation, in just three months, he had swept across half of China with near-invincible might. From an unknown nobody, he had become a living legend—the youngest grandmaster in history.

Days later, another earth-shattering announcement came: The Chinese Dragon Group ranked Jiang Tian among the top twenty grandmasters in China.

And just like that—the name Jiang Taichu shook the world.

…..

Singapore, The Guo Family Estate

The Guo family’s sprawling estate occupied five to six hundred acres of prime land in Singapore’s most expensive district—as if land were free.

Broad four-lane asphalt roads, endless stretches of manicured lawns, and shimmering artificial lakes all silently proclaimed the Guo family’s staggering wealth.

Ranked among the top twenty wealthiest Chinese families worldwide, the Guo family’s assets reached hundreds of billions in Singaporean dollars, with holdings spanning luxury hotels, shipping, energy, telecommunications, and more. Their fortune rivaled nations.

Only such wealth could command an estate of this scale.

In a grand, imposing office, the current family head, Guo Junfeng, sat at the center of a long table, surrounded by a group of distinguished men, most in their forties.

They were watching a video—a recording of Jiang Tian’s battle with Xing Shanhu in Linzhou.

The room was utterly silent, the atmosphere thick with tension.

The video was short. Five minutes later, Guo Junfeng turned it off and glanced at Guo Lili, who sat in a corner, silently weeping.

“Lili, stop crying. Now I understand why you couldn’t obtain the Life Crystals from him. It wasn’t your fault.”

As the eldest son of the Guo family’s second generation, forty-five-year-old Guo Junfeng had taken over the family’s leadership due to his father’s illness.

With a straight nose, strong jaw, and an air of authority, he exuded an aura of command.

“Now, I also believe you. You really might have encountered a monster. And he really might have slain that white ape with a single sword strike.”

He tapped the table thoughtfully, then asked, “What are your thoughts on the Life Crystals—and on Jiang Tian?”

“Elder Brother, Father’s illness can only be cured with the Life Crystals,” one of the middle-aged men spoke up. “Jiang Tian is strong, yes, but we must take them by force!”

“True. But have you considered—if even the top experts of the Big Circle Gang couldn’t handle him, who can we send?” An elderly man in a Tang suit interjected.

He was the younger brother of the previous Guo family head, a senior elder whose words carried weight.

Silence fell. They all knew how formidable Jiang Tian was—far beyond ordinary men.

Finally, Guo Junfeng sighed, his expression complicated. “It seems… we’ll have to ask Grandmaster Wang Chongyan to intervene.”

“If he’s willing to act, Jiang Tian won’t stand a chance. In the Chinese martial world, Wang Chongyan ranks among the top five veteran grandmasters!”

Even the elder showed a trace of reverence at the mention of the name.

“Who is Wang Chongyan?” Some of the younger generation looked puzzled.

“Wang Chongyan—a grandmaster of the old school, famous since the Republic of China era. Once served as Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek’s personal guard instructor.”

The elder sighed.

“Back when my elder brother and I first came to Nanyang, Wang Chongyan was already like a living deity! He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of Huang Jinrong, Du Yuesheng, and Zhang Xiaolin!”

“The Blue Shirt Society he founded suppressed the Green Gang and the Red Gang. It was Chiang’s most trusted intelligence organization, with countless disciples and experts—even Dai Li, head of the Military Statistics Bureau, feared them.”

“He only left China after losing to Ye Tianren. You may not know Ye Tianren, but you’ve probably heard of another name.” The elder’s voice grew solemn.

“Who?”

“Ye Zhan Tian—China’s number one expert, leader of the Dragon Group. He is Ye Tianren’s son.”

The elder seemed lost in memory.

“After the Yangtze River Crossing Campaign, Ye Tianren—the Communist Party’s top martial expert—went south first to stabilize the martial world. Alone, with just a sword, he crushed the Red Gang, the Blue Shirt Society, and others. Wang Chongyan lost to him and fled overseas, settling in Nanyang.”

“Is Wang Chongyan in Singapore? Do we have ties with him?” someone asked.

“He is here. And he founded the Singapore Chinese Association, gathering many of Southeast Asia’s most sinister dark arts practitioners under his banner.”

The elder’s voice dropped.

“He is practically Singapore’s guardian deity. Without him, the Big Circle Gang would have taken over long ago. The five great Chinese families of Singapore all defer to him. Every Lunar New Year, we must kneel and kowtow before him!”

Then, the elder dropped a bombshell:

“And no president of Singapore takes office without his approval.”

“Then he’s practically an emperor in the shadows!” The room buzzed with disbelief.

The Guo family was nobility in Singapore, with members in parliament and close ties to the president. Their intelligence network was vast—yet even they were hearing this for the first time.

“Uncle, our generation is too junior. Only you could persuade him to give us face,” Guo Junfeng said with a sigh.

“Hmm.”

The elder nodded, picked up an antique rotary phone, dialed a number, and spoke briefly.

After hanging up, he sighed. “Wang Chongyan is in seclusion. And he said… a mere early-stage Transformation Realm expert isn’t worth his time.”

The room deflated.

But then the elder smiled. “However… he agreed to send Kun Tian Basong of the Singapore Chinese Association—along with Muang Khong, the ancient Muay Thai master.”

“That dark arts expert who can cast deadly curses, raise vengeful spirits, and command ghosts?!”

Guo Lili gasped, her face a mix of terror and excitement.

Kun Tian Basong’s name was infamous in Singapore. Countless dignitaries and tycoons revered him as a guest of honor.

Rumors said he was a Thai monk who could kill from a hundred meters away with his curses, summon spirits to bring fortune, and brew “love potions” that could make even the most wayward man devoted for life.

Guo Junfeng smirked, confidence oozing.

“Kun Tian Basong is Thai, one of Southeast Asia’s top three most feared dark arts masters. Wang Chongyan holds him in high esteem. Even if Jiang Tian is a martial artist, he’s still flesh and blood. How could he possibly stand against Basong?”

He pointed at Guo Lili. “Lili, you’re familiar with Jiang Tian’s background, and you’ve been to Linzhou multiple times. You’ll accompany Basong on this trip.”

“Yes, Father. This time, I won’t fail. We’ll return victorious and cure Grandfather!”

Guo Lili stood, clenching her fists in determination—but deep inside, she seethed.

“Jiang Tian, you’ve insulted me time and again. Now, with two masters by my side, I’ll make sure you beg for mercy on your knees!”

…..

Meanwhile, in Linzhou…

In the twenty-plus days since Jiang Tian had left, Zhao Xueqing had missed him every second.

“You heartless jerk, running off for over half a month—do I even cross your mind?”

“You think sending some local snacks will win me over? Hmph! Not that easy!”

“Just wait till you’re back. I’ll spank you silly!”

Sometimes she gritted her teeth, clawing the air in mock fury.

Other times, her heart swelled with longing.

“Heh, this new dish I learned—he’s gonna love it. I wonder how he’ll praise me…”

But most often, she’d rest her chin in her hands, lost in memories—smiling one moment, tearing up the next.

“Hah, he’s ridiculous. Making Yang Guochang kneel just for offending me. Can’t stand me suffering even a little… How spoiled am I?”

“That fool… even sold his blood to make me that bracelet.”

“No matter if you can control lightning or strike from afar—to me, you’ll always be that lunatic, that idiot who treasures me like gold.”

Then—creak—the door opened.

Zhao Xueqing bolted up.

There, in the doorway, stood none other than Jiang Tian.