Martial King's Retired Life

“You should check out the Central Plain when you have time.” Ximen Chuideng burped twice after more drinks. While his face didn’t go red, he was evidently somewhat tipsy. “They have an interested place.”

“What place?”

“The martial world.”

Reviewing what he had read in books, Endian asked, “I’ve heard about it. Is it in Hangzhou?”

“No.”

Endian furrowed his brows. “In Jiangnan?”

“Jiangnan? No, but yes.”

“Beiping?”

“Beiping? No, but yes.”

At that point, Endian was almost ready to switch topics. “Where is it, then?”

Ximen Chuideng wagged his foot. “Nowhere, but everywhere.”

“… Does that mean ‘martial world’ is a specific location for martial artists?”

“You can interpret it however you fancy.” Ximen Chuideng knocked back another bowl.

“Does the Western Regions not have one?”

“Maybe it does; maybe it doesn’t. I think there is, but there are plenty of times where it doesn’t exist if you ask me.”

Endian nodded. “I’ll check it out if I have the opportunity. Who should I pay attention to?”

“Besides one person, everyone else is fine.”

“Besides who?”

“Hmph, I’ll never shake his hand!”

The two of them spent three days drinking, but they finished the giant jug Ximen Chuideng brought on the first day, so the next day was spent drinking alcohol that Endian’s subordinates had to fetch them. Regardless of what alcohol was served up, they drank without hesitation. By the third night, there were empty jugs and pots strewn everywhere in the palace.

Endian mindlessly tossed an empty pot onto the ground before the last one he tossed had finished spinning, shattering them together. “Why don’t you conquer all of the Western Regions? The Western Regions might see better days with you at the helm.”

“Maybe. What if I’m no longer at the helm?”

“… That’s not my problem. I stay in my lane and you in yours. Perhaps we’ll meet on a battlefield one day. Don’t feel bitter when that time comes.”

“Hahahaha, bloody cocky runt. You think you’re my match?”

“Just because I might not be today, it doesn’t mean I never will be.”

“That certainly is possible,” Ximen Chuideng responded in a low voice, rubbing his beard with his eyes squinted. Before Endian could figure out what Ximen Chuideng’s answer referred to, Ximen Chuideng said, “Hahaha, I’ll be taking you with me today.”

Endian frowned, unaware that Ximen Chuideng had always been someone who acted on whims even if his decision turned out wrong. More often than not, though, his impulsive actions produced unexpected results.

With an upward curve at the corners of his lips, Ximen Chuideng expanded, “Aren’t they looking for God? I’ll bring one back for them. Don’t you want to be a menace? I’ll give you a platform to be a catastrophic menace.”

Days later, Ximen Chuideng had arrived with Endian at the most important golden city for Divine Moon Cult – Aiajianan. All the seniors, the Elders and believers who worshipped Divine Moon Cult’s gods were found at the city. The golden buildings were symbols of their cult’s honour and glory. The ruler of the city didn’t have to listen to the cult leader if the latter violated the cult’s policies.

Despite being the cult leader, they were at the mercy of the cult’s policies. If it weren’t for the policies, Lord San Shen’s faction could’ve punished even the cult leader. That was the reason Zero’s group didn’t fear the cult leader until Ximen Chuideng brought Lord San Shen back. The veterans didn’t understand. Even though the menace who had been robbing the seven states was Lord San Shen, Ximen Chuideng’s timing was terrible. They had made hundreds of attempts to bring in Lord San Shen, except they weren’t capable enough for any attempt to succeed.

The last thing anyone expected was for the cult leader and Lord San Shen to stand by side. Every cult leader had the authority to unite and govern everyone. While Ximen Chuideng didn’t exhibit any holy behaviours or traits, he had certainly proven he had the power part down better than any previous cult leader. Two faction leaders and three Great Guardians serving under the cult leader was rare – very rare. On top of that, he was able to find the Black Lotus Envoy, who was supposed to be nigh impossible to find. As such, Ximen Chuideng’s Divine Moon Cult became the strongest version of Divine Moon in centuries. Of course, that also meant that spreading their teachings was easier than ever. Everything was fine except for the fact that Ximen Chuideng wanted to involve himself in the mundane world.

Even the blind could see that Ximen Chuideng had no desire for authority, but he was displeased with the priests representing the shrines. He was a pragmatic man and acted primarily based on how he felt, which made him the least ideal man to govern the cult. If the cult operated based solely under his leadership, it might’ve collapsed during his reign. Nonetheless, the argument didn’t shake the opposing faction. Bishop Akatuo, notwithstanding being as important as Ximen Chuideng and living high up in the golden city, had started digging himself an escape tunnel from the day Ximen Chuideng came into power. If Ximen Chuideng wanted to publicly spank him, he’d have been at the former’s mercy.

The only effective weapon Bishop Akatuo’s faction had was the cult’s policies. The teachings could’ve been interpreted a myriad of different ways and had a plethora of contradictions that Ximen Chuideng didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. As it was the foundation of Divine Moon Cult, however, not even the cult leader could modify it, or the cult would crumble. Thus, it was Ximen Chuideng’s Achilles. Ximen Chuideng had no respect for the cult and would’ve happily set the “pricks” on fire, but he wouldn’t do anything that brought harm to his brothers.

Divine Moon Cult wasn’t a religion or system to protect authority to Ximen Chuideng. He viewed it as an entity that he and his brothers went to hell and back to protect. In saying that, the entity was always secondary to his brothers who went to hell and back with him. Zhuxing Wuchang, Bai Tianbin and so on were the sincerest followers of Divine Moon Cult in Ximen Chuideng’s eyes.

Ximen Chuideng’s best strength was also his weakness. Although it was where he was weakest, it wasn’t something one could crack with hard attacks. Instead, reasonably restricting his options was effective. For a long time, being able to restrict him was the opposing faction’s means of protecting their power. Alas, Ximen Chuideng smashed their weapon apart when he brought back Lord San Shen.

The policies and teachings that they relied on didn’t apply to God. Even if they wanted to object, Zero had already dropped onto his knees and called Endian “God”. Lord San Shen’s representative couldn’t be wrong. What could they have done at that point?

“I recognise you,” Endian remarked to Zero with a smile. “You’re the one who set fire first.”

The ecstatic bishop stole a quick glance at Endian. Despite seeing a smile, the sharp bishop saw a black spark. Because of the strong vengeful aura, he paid extra attention, bringing to his attention that Endian and Ximen Chuideng were similar in a way. Ximen Chuideng was an unpredictable person who had no qualms shedding blood, but he had beliefs nobody could make him diverge from. He had clear desires, but he was never a slave to his desires. Such an individual was impossible to make use off. Bishop Akatuo recognised his good days were over the moment he saw Ximen Chuideng. In contrast, Endian was the manifestation of hatred. Endian’s desire was simple, but it required an ocean of blood and mountain of corpses to fulfil, making him the ideal candidate to use. If Zero’s rule couldn’t be questioned, who’d question Lord San Shen?

As soon as Zero recognised Endian as Lord San Shen, nobody else dared to sing a different tune. Endian subsequently moved onto the throne of the golden city and enjoyed the worship of thousands. Meanwhile, the bishop’s faction started preparing to pit Ximen Chuideng and Lord San Shen against each other.

God had an insatiable desire to wreak havoc. If they could manipulate it and make him lose his way, Ximen Chuideng would have to pay the price for it one day. All they had to do was wait for said day. It was clever; however, they made one miscalculation – “they” included both factions. Endian and Ximen Chuideng weren’t on the same trajectory.

Ximen Chuideng wanted Endian to teach the corrupt pricks a lesson – a simple and effective strategy. Bishop Akatuo’s faction’s strategy was a roundabout method, but it was clever. The problem was that both of them forgot Endian never wanted to be God. He just wanted to be a menace, to shed blood. His aim wasn’t to fill a void; he purely believed it to be a price that had to be paid. Outside of the golden palace, the bandits were his blade for plundering the world. Inside the golden walls, he got an even bigger weapon compared to the bandits to hack the world. Ximen Chuideng spent three days chatting with him, but the former never understood the latter. Nobody could.

Every time he closed his eyes, Endian relived the deaths of his father, mother and Jie’er. The inferno and crescent flower were as vivid as the first time he saw them. He wanted more power, and martial arts was one vehicle. In addition to the authority he was granted, he needed martial prowess. He had already identified an obstacle in his way that he couldn’t overcome without elevating his martial arts – Ximen Chuideng. Unless he could surpass Ximen Chuideng, all of his goals were consigned to his sleep hours.

While he had his subordinates carry out all sorts of ridiculous “divine” orders, Endian spent his time marinating in martial arts. He didn’t overlook any details whether it was theory or implementation. He had committed the cult’s “Agni Twelve Heavens” and “Freedom Manual” to memory; however, he didn’t practice them since he didn’t think spending a year on them could compare to the decade Ximen Chuideng spent on them. Hence, he placed his hopes on the one discipline nobody could decipher or dare to learn – Spring Wind Rainy Night Art. Alas, after reading through it once, he realised that, like Ximen Chuideng, he wouldn’t be able to master it, either.

Ximen Chuideng couldn’t understand the artwork, but he had both factions’ knowledge, so he was able to learn a portion of the theory that ordinary people couldn’t. In spite of being only a portion that generations managed to collect and even went crazy for, it was sufficient for Ximen Chuideng to reign supreme. Endian imprinted the artwork into his mind and could translate it into words for a fuller picture. Therefore, he was able to go further in it than Ximen Chuideng, but that tiny bit further was his limit. He knew he hit his limit when his golden energy turned into jet-black energy.

Endian believed “Spring Wind Rainy Night Art” was a key to a domain. The closer one edged towards the domain, the more power they gained. He gained the power, too, but the quick glance’s time delivered more energy into him than he could house. As long as he spent enough time digesting the power, he had the quality to rival Ximen Chuideng. Unfortunately, that was the maximum extent he could achieve, let alone exploring it. The world inside the artwork was an indistinguishable haze without borders. Endian tried to look around, but there was nothing to see.

The dimension seemed to house all entities, except nothing was in its expected form. That was the nature of Chaos. Everything existed, but nothing had been distinguished. Accordingly, the rules of all things in existence didn’t apply in the dimension without order. Anyone who spent too long in there would lose their mind. Realising that, Endian only took what he could handle. Just because God could understand what he saw, it didn’t mean he could master it. It was a trap designed to prevent people from pursuing power outside of their league. Because Endian realised that, he didn’t go mad.

Once Endian obtained the incredible power, there was nothing left to stop him. Mass murder was just the start. He had no pity to speak of. All those involved in the death of his parents and Jie’er all suffered at his hands before he turned his attention to Ximen Chuideng. City administrators who didn’t pay him tributes paid with their lives. As sure as night followed day, bodies were left littered in the wild daily. The people who once believed they were untouchable in the Western Regions were dragged out and roasted in the sun.

In a matter of years, the golden city started to be called a city of sins. Endian did nearly everything he wanted. Divine Moon Cult, influential figures and bandits were all subjected to violent rituals. Perhaps they didn’t feel remorse even in their last moments, but Endian didn’t care. He just wanted them to pay for their wrongs.

Endian continued to wait for a warrior brave enough to challenge him once he backed them up against the figurative wall from his throne. Having achieved all his goals, he was just waiting for death to release him from his anguish. At long last, the challenger he waited for arrived.

“I came to kill you,” asserted the white-haired youth armed with a jet-black blade.

Without further explanation, the white-haired youth chopped down the golden palace. They called Endian a menace, but his challenger, who was supposed to end the menace, was even more ominous. The only thing that didn’t crumble as the battle raged on were Endian’s black and golden energies.

Endian recognised the discipline the white-haired youth utilised, but he was still surprised to see someone not affiliated with the cult using it. There was no mistake his challenger used “Spring Wind Rainy Night Art”. Originally assuming he was Ximen Chuideng’s closed-door disciple or someone Bishop Akatuo dispatched, Endian soon realised neither of them could’ve raised such a monster. Endian should’ve grasped more of Spring Wind Rainy Night Art than anyone alive, and nobody else should’ve been able to comprehend the artwork more than Ximen Chuideng if their name wasn’t Endian, yet it was an irrefutable fact that the white-haired youth had a better grasp of it than him. His red eyes were proof that he opened them from Chaos and proof that he returned from Chaos.

Nobody had any grounds to say they could beat the first person to master “Spring Wind Rainy Night Art” in history, not even God.

Upon waking up, Endian couldn’t believe he was still alive.

“Ptoo! Ptoo, ptoo! Flipping Ximen Chuideng, what happened to being invincible after I mastered it?! My back hurts like crazy after mastering it… Toss this Lord Whatever guy, too. Motherflipper didn’t pull no punches.”

After hearing the complaints, Endian felt every muscle in his body unable to obey his commands and hurting enough to question if that was how imminent death felt. Knowledge Path was the only reason that clarified he wasn’t dead. He tried to make some noise to attract the victor’s attention so that he could be finished off – and maybe with an insult.

“I can’t kill you. I’m spent.” The white-haired youth stretched his arms out overhead. “Killing you takes too much effort. Even if you’ve expended 99% of your energy, if you squeeze out that last 1% to protect yourself, I’ll have to take down a few more buildings to kill you. Just quit so that we can both be done with our jobs. Man, you don’t even have a bench here? Far out.”

Watching the white-haired youth fumble through the ruins for a bench as if it was the most urgent matter at hand, Endian queried, “I’ve killed so many people… Why aren’t you killing me?”

“Did you kill my family? Why is it my business, then?”

“Aren’t you afraid that, in the future, I will…”

“Will what? Can you beat me?” The white-haired youth effortlessly kicked over a stack of rubble, covering the sky in dust. Meanwhile, the rubble toppled over another building before it stopped. He dragged out the throne that Endian had used as his signature seat for years, picked up his black weapon, slouched into it and exhaled relief. Looking down from above, he said, “You’re an odd one. You’re like a caged prisoner, yet you don’t want to free yourself.”

“What… did you come here for?”

The white-haired youth shrugged. “Ximen Chuideng said some young guy is on the wrong path, so he wanted me to kill him. I tried to kill you, but I failed. No lie, there aren’t many people who can survive if I want to kill them. Why are you trapping yourself when not even death can bind you?”

Once he dozed off on the throne, the white-haired youth yelled, “Pork shoulders! Mine!”

“… Why are you trapping yourself when not even death can bind you?” was a question that struck a chord in Endian’s heart. From childhood, he had been fixated on doing something for his late parents and Jie’er, aiming to end the story with his demise. The warrior who slew him was supposed to usher in a brighter future for the Western Regions, one he wasn’t able to imagine. After a reflecting for a long time, he cracked a bitter smile.

Not even the death god wants me, huh?

Though it was fleeting, he saw more possibilities than he had ever seen in his mind. As he mused over what to do since he couldn’t die, he succumbed to fatigue and had another dream.

Mora Pharmacy was the blacksmith’s neighbour. The crackling furnace in the pharmacy provided some warmth for the town stuck in the winter season. Jie’er was reading whilst he and Mora’s bossy daughter were trading toys with other kids. Meanwhile, his mother was sewing a thin carpet for the winter, while his father returned home after a long day at work.

Rubbing his heavy eyes as he rose from his slumber, the white-haired youth voiced, “Okay, okay, I can’t kill you, so I’m out of here. What spell did you cast on this chair? It’s too comfortable. I can’t even feel any soreness anymore.”

“You can have it if you want.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that. Getting a chair whilst getting to fight is… What are you doing?” The white-haired youth sat up in a hurry. “Hey! What are you kneeling to me for?! Qingming Festival is tomorrow! What are you bowing your head to me for?”

“Name… Give me a name.”

“Huh? You don’t have a name?”

“I do, but he’s dead… I want to live for myself from now. Please give me a name.”

The white-haired youth couldn’t wrap his head around what it was all about. He wasn’t even sure what name to give someone so strong. All the names that came to his mind were the likes of “Zhu Basan”, “Gou Niaohuang”, “Chashao Si”. After a while of mulling, he clapped his hands together. “I’ve heard a pretty cool name before. You said you’re going to be a new you, right? That means you’re starting from scratch, so this name fits you perfectly.” With a smile, he rhetorically asked, “’Zero’ is a pretty good name, isn’t it?”

Whenever Endian – Zero – recalled the scene, he always thought it was heaven’s will, God’s beacon for him, a beacon to give him another chance to choose.

Zero bowed his head. “Zero… at your service.”

Glossary

Ming Feizhen’s names – The first one is a play on Zhu Bajie, the second is “Dog Piss” and the third one is a play on “Charsiu”