Chapter 77: A Conversation

After several phone calls, Zhang Baotang's forehead was drenched in sweat. He lifted his head again and glanced at Ling Xiao, suddenly realizing that the young man before him far exceeded his imagination.

It was only at this moment that he understood he might have made a grave mistake.

He swallowed hard, fear etched on his face as he stammered, "Who... who are you, really?"

"Someone you can't afford to offend," Ling Xiao replied, rising to his feet. He flicked away his cigarette butt, crushed it underfoot, and turned to leave.

"Ming Cheng, clean up! Leave no one behind!"

"Understood, Young Master. Leave it to me!" Ming Cheng grinned menacingly. As Ling Xiao exited the pharmacy, the rolling shutters dropped automatically at his command, the screeching sound muffling several cries of agony.

Ling Xiao never went looking for trouble—others should be grateful for that. Yet some dared to provoke him—how laughable!

Returning to the clinic, he found a crowd gathered outside, all drawn by his reputation. Among them were both the wealthy and the destitute, some hoping for free treatment.

Ling Xiao merely glanced at them—he accepted no one.

Healing was nothing more than a fleeting recollection of childhood memories with his father, never his true vocation. If he felt like it, he would do it; if not, even the Jade Emperor could not persuade him.

"From now on, I will save only one person per week. The consultation fee is one hundred million; no one gets treated for free! Get lost, all of you! Don’t block my view!"

With those words, Ling Xiao retreated into the courtyard, closing the gates behind him and refusing all further visitors.

Life and death are decreed by fate; wealth and honor are bestowed by heaven. Anyone afflicted by illness is destined for death. Though Ling Xiao had the power to drag them back from the brink of the Underworld, it did not mean they deserved to live.

Life was a gift granted by Ling Xiao. If he wished it, they would live; if not, they would die.

Ants had only the right to weep.

...

In the afternoon, several Maybachs arrived at the Jiangzhou highway exit, finally stopping in front of the Jiangzhou Grand Hotel.

A group of eccentric individuals stepped out—several elders and several youths, all clad in loose silk garments, resembling martial artists from ancient dramas.

Passersby could not help but point and whisper.

Among them was a particularly refined young man, whose stature and appearance rivaled popular idols, drawing the attention of many young women who stole glances before leaving with flushed cheeks.

The young man wore a frivolous air, whistling at the girls from time to time, causing their hearts to flutter.

The elders frowned, unable to help themselves. "Young Master, we are here to negotiate with the Ghost Valley Young Master. We hope you can take this seriously."

The Iron Fist Young Master replied impatiently, "Understood! It’s rare for me to visit the mundane world—can’t I have a little fun? It’s just the so-called Ghost Valley Young Master, right? Their sect hasn’t dared to join the Hundred Sect Tournament once all these years—what’s there to fear?"

The elders exchanged uneasy glances.

"Young Master! Ghost Valley is one of the three most mysterious sects in the martial world, not to be underestimated!"

"Pfft! Even if he’s impressive, he’s just a mere Young Master. What’s there to be afraid of? Besides, how far is Ghost Valley from Jiangzhou? How far is the Iron Fist Sect from Jiangzhou? If their Young Master dares to cross the line, we could wipe him out in minutes! What could Ghost Valley do—invade with an army?"

"Young Mas..."

"Enough, save your breath! You elders can handle the negotiations. I rarely get to visit Jiangzhou—I want to take in its sights. Six, let’s go."

"Yes!"

A youth immediately stepped forward from the crowd and followed the Iron Fist Young Master as he left.

The elders remained where they were, their faces tinged with anger.

"The Young Master is utterly lacking in decorum—hardly fit for great responsibilities!"

"Let it be. He is, after all, the Young Master, the Sect Leader’s son. We must give him some face."

"When we return to the sect, I will certainly file a report against him!"

Grumbling, the elders entered the Jiangzhou Grand Hotel, guided by their attendants.

As evening fell, the arrival of a Rolls-Royce at the hotel heightened the sense of ceremony.

Ling Xiao, clad in a custom-tailored suit, looked exceptionally handsome. Already striking in appearance, the suit lent him an aura of authority and grandeur.

Ming Cheng and Xiu’er had also donned new clothes.

The three proceeded directly to a private hall on the seventh floor of the Jiangbei Grand Hotel, where the Iron Fist Sect’s representatives awaited them.

Upon Ling Xiao’s arrival, everyone immediately stood.

"Welcome, welcome, Ghost Valley Young Master! Truly a remarkable figure, dignified and impressive."

Ling Xiao slipped one hand into his pocket, ignoring everyone as he strode straight to the chief seat on the sofa.

The Iron Fist sect’s faces darkened—Ling Xiao clearly didn’t regard them at all.

Still, since they were here to negotiate, they suppressed their anger.

"Ghost Valley Young Master, our Iron Fist Sect has sent the Grand Elder, Third Elder, Sixth Elder, and Seventh Elder for these talks."

Ling Xiao merely responded with a faint "Mm", and an awkward silence filled the hall.

The elders exchanged glances, then one cleared his throat and said, "Young Master Ling, regarding your earlier demand that our Iron Fist Sect surrender, we must decline!"

Ling Xiao’s eyes narrowed.

"In that case, what is there left to discuss?"

The group’s expressions shifted.

"Young Master Ling, our Iron Fist Sect is one of the top one hundred martial sects. How could we possibly surrender to Ghost Valley? If word got out, wouldn’t we become a laughingstock?"

"Exactly! If you insist on submission, then we will have no choice but to fight. When the time comes, who wins and who loses is anyone’s guess!"

Ming Cheng sneered coldly. "How amusing. You come here to negotiate, yet you start threatening us!"

An elder of Iron Fist Sect chuckled. "Heh heh... We are merely clarifying the pros and cons. Young Master Ling, surely you understand—once-in-a-century Hundred Sect Tournament is approaching! At this time, Ghost Valley would be better off with an extra friend than an extra enemy."

"That’s right. Though Iron Fist Sect isn’t among the very top, our support would still be a considerable asset to Ghost Valley. If you insist on opposing us, we will drag Ghost Valley down even if it costs us our lives!"

"This year marks Ghost Valley’s first participation in the Hundred Sect Tournament, Young Master Ling... you’d best consider carefully!"

"Ghost Valley has always been shrouded in mystery. If you suffer a setback at the outset, you may never again command respect in the martial world of China."