parentshiftbook Chapter 6 You are Zhang Qingyang
Chapter 6 You are Zhang Qingyang
"Little brat, don't make a mistake!" Just then, a figure darted in like a ghost!
It was none other than Master He, rushing towards them!
He didn't even glance at the ecstatic gang members or the stiff Zhang Yuan; his target was clear—Wang Ziteng!
With a swift movement, Master He gripped Wang Ziteng's waist with the precision of an iron clamp, and barked, "Go!"
He stomped heavily on the slippery wooden platform, using the force to lift himself up like a roc spreading its wings, carrying Wang Ziteng towards the small boat that Zhao Tangzhu and the others had just boarded!
He was incredibly fast. With a few leaps, his toes even touched the surface of the turbulent river, creating ripples. The next moment, he landed steadily on a small boat that was several feet away from the shore!
On the ship, when Master Zhao saw Master He bring Prince Teng aboard, a complex emotion flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a resolute look.
He growled, "Start the boat! Quickly!"
The people on the small boat rowed with all their might, and the boat shot off like an arrow, cutting through the turbid waves and speeding downstream!
"Zhang Yuan—!"
Wang Ziteng was pinned to the deck by Master He. He could only struggle to turn his head and shout at the ever-shrinking figure on the shore with all his might. His voice was extremely weak in the vast river wind and the sound of the waves, and was instantly drowned out.
On the riverbank, Zhang Yuan was held tightly by the gang, unable to move.
He was covered in blood, his face a mixture of blood, sweat, and mud, looking utterly wretched.
However, his eyes were unusually bright as he stared intently at the small boat that was rapidly disappearing into the waves, watching as Wang Ziteng's struggling and screaming figure became increasingly blurry.
Until the small boat completely disappeared around the bend in the river, amidst the rising mist.
Zhang Yuan took a slow, deep breath, the heavy smell of blood and the fishy odor of the river filling his lungs.
He lowered his head, glanced at the cold black iron plaque on his chest, then looked up at the fawning gang members beside him, and finally, his gaze fell on the scholar in a green robe standing not far away with his hands behind his back, exuding an extraordinary air.
He broke free from the hands of his gang members and tried to stand up straight.
Then, step by step, he dragged his exhausted and wounded body toward the counselor with difficulty but determination.
Under the varied gazes of the crowd, Zhang Yuan walked to a stop about three steps away from the counselor.
He raised his small face, covered in blood and obscuring his expression, and said in a hoarse but crystal-clear voice, "I'll go with you."
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On the muddy official road, a procession made of black armor wound its way.
More than a hundred bandits from the Green Bamboo Gang, their hands and feet bound by iron shackles, were being escorted by stern-faced soldiers clad in black scale armor, their steps faltering.
More than ten oxcarts followed closely behind, their frames sinking deep under the weight, creaking under the strain.
The cart was piled high with confiscated valuables. Water-soaked and moldy silks hung from the gaps in the broken chests, rusty swords were piled up haphazardly like small mountains, and there were also some gold, silver, and other valuables and miscellaneous items, all of which told the story of what this gang used to do.
At the very end of this somber procession, a dark-colored carriage swayed gently with the undulations of the road.
The air inside the car was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood, dispelling the lingering smell of blood and dust.
Zhang Yuan washed away the bloodstains, changed into a clean set of coarse cloth clothes, and sat opposite the scholar in a blue robe.
On the small table between the two, lay a dark iron plaque, its tiger head menacing, the ancient seal script character "Zhang" bearing the marks of time.
The scholar in the green robe extended his thin but steady fingers and gently grasped the black iron plaque.
"I am Chen Wenyuan, a ninth-rank counselor from Fengming County."
His gaze fell on Zhang Yuan's face, calm and expressionless: "What's your name?"
Zhang Yuan's heart skipped a beat.
He knew that the other party was not asking about "Zhang Yuan", but about the true owner of the iron plaque, the name of the mute man he had buried.
However, he knew nothing about it.
He could only remain silent, his gaze lowered, fixed on the cold iron plate.
Chen Wenyuan did not ask any further questions, but instead gently stroked the raised and recessed patterns on the iron plate with his fingertips, as if he were feeling a heavy past.
A moment later, his deep voice echoed in the carriage, hoarse with a hint of reminiscence: "Your name is Zhang Qingyang. You are the son of Zhang Zhenshan, the Commandant of the Imperial Guards."
"Your father, Zhang Zhenshan, guarded the Xuelang Pass in the northern frontier for ten years without fail."
"In the bloody battle on the snowy plains before the New Year, 30,000 iron cavalry of the Northern Qi attacked the pass. He led 300 light cavalry to cover the rear. He was hit by 27 arrows, and his battle robe was stained with blood. Yet he still held up the flag and did not fall. He won a sliver of hope for the retreat of the main force of the Great Yu. His name of loyalty and bravery resounded throughout the north."
Chen Wenyuan's voice carried a hint of solemnity that was barely perceptible.
"The imperial court posthumously conferred generous honors and granted permission for the coffin to be escorted back to its hometown. However, fate played a cruel trick; before the coffin arrived, a massive flood swept in, turning Zhangjiazhuang and the surrounding villages into a vast swamp."
"The only remaining bloodline of the Zhang family is an empty ancestral home in Fengming County..."
Zhang Yuan listened quietly, completely unaware of the information concerning his "origins".
A loyal and brave father, and a family wiped out—these weighed heavily on his heart.
After Chen Wenyuan finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the carriage.
He looked at Zhang Yuan, his tone calm yet carrying a penetrating power: "The name 'Qingyang' was personally given to the son born to your father three years ago."
"At that time, he brought his son back to his hometown to visit his relatives. He stayed at my house for a while and said that when you turned ten, he would send you to my school to study literature and martial arts."
Zhang Yuan suddenly looked up at Chen Wenyuan, his eyes filled with undisguised shock.
The other party had met Zhang Qingyang before; they even gave him his name!
He never expected that the truth about his impersonation would be so easily exposed by the other party!
His throat tightened, awaiting his uncertain fate.
Chen Wenyuan's gaze was as deep as a pool, staring silently at Zhang Yuan as if trying to see into the depths of his soul.
Time flowed by in silence, with only the creaking of the axle and the faint sounds of noise outside the window.
After a long while, he picked up the black iron plaque on the table, but instead of taking it back, he handed it to Zhang Yuan.
"You are Zhang Qingyang."
Chen Wenyuan's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable certainty.
A complex mix of emotions welled up in Zhang Yuan's heart: surprise, relief, and a sense of destiny that had been forcefully reversed.
He reached out and gripped the cold, yet seemingly powerful, iron plaque tightly.
Immediately, he stood up, bowed deeply to Chen Wenyuan, and performed a solemn disciple's salute:
"Zhang Yuan and Zhang Qingyang greet their teacher."
Chen Wenyuan nodded slightly, accepting the offer calmly.
After Zhang Yuan sat down again, he pointed to the black iron token in Zhang Yuan's hand and said, "This is the hereditary token of the Great Yu Zhenwu Guard. This token is passed down, and the token is recognized, not the person."
"The holder of this token is a descendant of the Zhang family in Zhenwuwei."
"Once you come of age, the Zhenwu Guard will have its own trials waiting for you. If you pass them, you will be able to inherit your father's will and regain control of the Zhang family's Tiger Tally of the Zhenwu Guard."
The topic shifted, and Chen Wenyuan's voice took on a solemn tone as he recounted the state of the world.
"Now the world is divided into three, with the Great Yu, Southern Zhao and Northern Qi standing in a tripartite balance. In between, there are also thirteen counties in Jiangzuo, a mixed bag of people who do not submit to the king's rule."
"Although my Great Yu has twenty-one prefectures, the emperor is weak and incompetent, and his decrees are difficult to issue from the capital. Each prefecture governor holds his own army and is independent. Although they are nominally a unified entity, they are actually separatist regimes."
He paused, his gaze sharp: "Each of the three kingdoms had a pillar of power that suppressed the world and subdued all directions."
"The State of Zhao has the Embroidered Uniform Guard, which oversees all officials and is all-pervasive, while the State of Qi has the Sword Pavilion, which is revered for its ability to gather the world's top swordsmen. Wherever its sword is pointed, none dare disobey."
"Our Great Yu relies on the Zhenwu Guard, which is spread throughout the prefectures and has been passed down through generations!"
"These three forces are the foundation for maintaining the fragile balance of this chaotic world and deterring demons and evil spirits from all directions."
Zhang Yuan listened quietly.
Chen Wenyuan's words reveal a grand world.
"Martial arts masters possess blood and qi as powerful as dragons and true qi as strong as a chariot, capable of destroying cities and suppressing demons; Confucian and Taoist masters can draw upon the power of the heavens, their words become law, they can educate all living beings, and they can also safeguard the peace of a region."
"Demons?" Zhang Yuan couldn't help but exclaim. This was the first time he had heard this word from such a perspective, and he felt both unfamiliar and astonished.
"What are demons and monsters?" Chen Wenyuan's lips curled into an almost contemptuous smile. "Above the three realms of Transcendental Realm lies the three realms of Profound Realm: Vajra, Dragon-Elephant, and Insightful!"
"These three realms of powerhouses can cause mountains to collapse and rivers to flow backward with a mere wave of their hand. How can their power be compared to that of ordinary demons?"
He looked at Zhang Yuan and pointed out the reality directly: "For example, this massive flood that submerged several counties and caused immense suffering has been clearly stated in the county government's secret report as not being a natural disaster. It was actually caused by a fierce battle between the 'Overturning Sea Dragon,' a powerful demon at the Dragon-Elephant Realm who was cultivating in the Yu Cang River, and a certain Dragon-Elephant Realm expert from our Great Yu who was passing through this area, which triggered a disturbance in the water and ley lines for thousands of miles!"
"The clash of dragon and elephant powers, the aftershocks of which exude such divine might!"
Seeing the confusion in Zhang Yuan's eyes, Chen Wenyuan said calmly, "The three realms of Transcendental Realm—Acquired, Innate, and Grandmaster—are merely the beginnings of martial arts, for strengthening the body and transcending the mundane."
"Only those at the third level of the Profound Realm can invoke the power of heaven and earth, making them true powerhouses. Above them are the Divine Power Realm experts, who wield supernatural powers and control creation, making them like immortals on earth."
As Zhang Yuan listened to this unimaginable level of power, and felt his own insignificance in the face of such immense power, he subconsciously clenched his fist slightly, his nails almost digging into his palm.
This world is far more magnificent and vast than I imagined.
That overwhelming flood was merely the dissipation of power during a battle between the strong.
Chen Wenyuan took in his reaction, his voice carrying a cruel clarity: "In the eyes of a Cave Profound Realm expert, what difference is there between ordinary people and ants?"
"If one is unable to transcend the three realms of mortal transformation and ascend to the profound realm, facing such an existence, even with a deep-seated blood feud, it is nothing more than a mantis trying to stop a chariot, futile and ineffective."
Zhang Yuan took a deep breath and nodded solemnly.
The floodwaters submerged a hundred miles, Zhangjiazhuang was destroyed, and countless people died—a grudge he was now powerless to undo.
This harsh reality made him understand the essence of power far more effectively than any preaching.
He closed his eyes, his mind sinking into his sea of consciousness, where the translucent panel quietly appeared:
Name: Zhang Yuan (Zhang Qingyang)
Age: 8
Realm: Mortal (Recovering from weakness)
Status: Qi and blood deficiency (relief in progress)
Life remaining: 3 years and 270 days
Martial arts:
Chasing Wind Sword: Great Completion (Deduction Progress: 72%) → Great Perfection (Deduction Progress: 100%! Deduction Cost: None (Breakthrough during battle))
Basic Fist and Kick: Beginner
(Note: Martial arts skill levels: Beginner, Minor Success, Major Success, Great Perfection, Unity of Heaven and Man)
The panel information clearly displays his status changes.
Most notably, the level of the [Chasing Wind Sword] actually jumped directly from "Great Completion" to "Great Perfection" after the life-and-death battle at the Lonely Bamboo Stake!
The simulation progress has reached an astonishing 100%.
This means that his mastery of this sword technique has reached the pinnacle of the technique itself, reaching the highest level, with no more restrictions on moves, and he can use the true meaning with ease!
A profound understanding stemming from the instinct of swordsmanship flowed through my heart, as if that sword technique had been completely integrated into my bones and blood.
He opened his eyes and looked out the car window at the endless ranks of black-armored soldiers and the vast expanse of sky and earth.
This chaotic world is like a furnace, where the strong prey on the weak.
Chen Wenyuan's words resonated in his heart like a resounding bell.
Strength, only one's own strength, is the sole foundation for establishing oneself in this world, controlling one's destiny, and even pursuing those unattainable realms!
After two days of bumpy travel, the vehicle finally arrived in Fengming County.
Chen Wenyuan led Zhang Yuan straight to the county government office.