Reborn Song Qingshu: Besieging Bright Peak at the Start

Song Qingshu stood with his sword drawn, his moon-white Taoist robe fluttering in the wind. His words were resounding and silenced the hundreds of people on Bright Peak.

A third-generation disciple of Wudang publicly drew his sword and challenged the six major sects; his audacity was simply boundless.

Within the Wudang faction, Song Yuanqiao's expression instantly became extremely interesting.

As a father, he felt that his son's words were bold and chivalrous, with the spirit of Wudang chivalry, but he also felt that the boy was simply crazy. How could a third-generation disciple like him make such a bold statement in front of all the heroes in the world?

However, the words had already been spoken, and as a father, he couldn't very well embarrass his son in front of the six major factions.

Zhang Wuji felt a surge of indescribable emotions.

He didn't know why this Senior Brother Song was the first to recognize him, nor did he know why Senior Brother Song was willing to risk being an enemy of the world to protect him.

But he knew that from now on, Zhang Wuji would remember this kindness for the rest of his life.

In the distance, under the banner of the Ming Cult, Yang Xiao, Wei Yixiao, and others watched this scene with complex expressions.

Zhou Dian said, "Song Yuanqiao's son from Wudang is quite bold for his young age."

Yang Xiao nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Song Qingshu, lost in thought.

The young man's actions just now, ostensibly to protect Zhang Wuji, actually served multiple purposes—

This not only demonstrated the benevolence and righteousness of the Wudang Sect to the heroes of the world, but also left room for reconciliation between the Wudang Sect and the Ming Cult, and planted a seed of gratitude in Zhang Wuji's heart.

If all of this was the result of careful consideration, then Song Qingshu's scheming is far too deep.

Yang Xiao thought for a while, then shook his head and chuckled.

Whatever it may be, one thing is certain—this Song Qingshu is no ordinary person.

Abbess Miejue's face was extremely grim.

The six major sects were besieging Bright Peak and were about to succeed when unexpected complications arose one after another.

First, Zeng Aniu appeared, single-handedly taking on five major sects. After finally injuring him severely, Song Qingshu jumped out, claiming to be Zhang Cuishan's only son.

In this final battle, it seems Wudang will not only refrain from intervening, but will also protect this kid to the death.

If Wudang withdraws, today's siege of Bright Peak will become a complete joke.

She snorted coldly, her gaze piercing Song Qingshu like a knife:

"Young Master Song has excellent eyesight. He recognized an old friend he hadn't seen for ten years just by a few moves of the Cloud Ladder Leap and his eyes. He is truly admirable."

These words are ostensibly praise but actually criticize; the implication is clear: what makes you, Song Qingshu, so certain that he is Zhang Wuji? Based solely on your own account?

Song Qingshu's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm, clasping his hands in a fist salute and saying:

  

"Master, you flatter me. I grew up with Junior Brother Wuji since childhood. He lived on Wudang Mountain for more than a year when he was young. We spent every day together, and his voice and smile are etched into my bones. If others don't recognize him, and I can't recognize him either, then I would be ashamed before my Fifth Uncle in heaven."

He emphasized the words "spirit in heaven" very heavily, and sure enough, the Wudang heroes' expressions darkened again upon hearing them.

Abbess Miejue was speechless after hearing these words. She snorted coldly and turned her gaze to Song Yuanqiao: "Hero Song, in this situation, it's up to you to make a decision."

Song Yuanqiao knew he could no longer remain silent.

He stepped forward, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and surveyed the entire arena. His voice was steady and firm: "Master, fellow martial artists, now that it has been confirmed that this young man surnamed Zeng is indeed my fifth brother's only son, my Wudang Sect will absolutely not intervene. In this final battle, Wudang forfeits. I hope you will all understand."

Upon hearing this, Abbess Miejue's face immediately turned ashen, but she had nothing to say.

It's only natural for someone to acknowledge their own nephew; no one can say a word against it.

The other sects present immediately began whispering and arguing amongst themselves.

Some people think Wudang's actions are justifiable, while others feel that it is really unfair for them to come all this way and then leave in such a sorry state.

Just when everyone thought the matter was settled, Yin Liting suddenly stepped forward.

Pointing his sword at Yang Xiao, he cursed, "You lecherous scoundrel, you're worse than a pig or a dog! I...I..."

He was cursing for a moment when his throat tightened and he could no longer continue. He thrust out his long sword, intending to stab Yang Xiao in the heart.

Yang Xiao was severely injured and his internal energy was exhausted. He was completely unable to move. He smiled slightly, closed his eyes, and awaited his death.

Suddenly, a young girl rushed forward from in front of Yang Xiao, blocking his path and crying out, "Don't hurt my father!"

Yin Liting hesitated, his sword still, but upon closer inspection, he couldn't help but gasp and feel a chill run through his body.

The girl was tall and slender with delicate eyebrows and big eyes; who else could she be but Ji Xiaofu?

Ever since he got engaged to Ji Xiaofu, whenever he had free time from practicing martial arts, he would feel a sweet warmth in his heart and always think of his fiancée's beautiful figure.

But when he learned that Ji Xiaofu had been kidnapped by Yang Xiao, lost her virginity to him, and even died because of it, his resentment was beyond words.

Upon suddenly seeing her again, he swayed and cried out, "Xiaofu, you...you didn't..."

This scene clearly gave everyone present a juicy sense of what was to come.

But Song Qingshu knew how things were going and couldn't help but silently mourn for his sixth uncle for two seconds.

Uncle Liu! Why did you do this?

Sure enough, the girl claimed that her name was Bu Hui (meaning "No Regrets"), that Ji Xiaofu was her mother, and that her mother gave her this name because she would not regret following Yang Xiao.

If Yin Liuxia wants revenge, she should go find that old nun Miejue; her mother was killed by that old nun with a single palm strike.

Poor Uncle Yin was devastated when he learned the truth.

He roared to the sky, "I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Ah!!!"

He then covered his face with his hands and rushed down from Bright Peak in a frenzy.

The other heroes tried desperately to call out, but to no avail.

He neither agreed nor looked back.

He ran wildly, but lost his footing and tripped along the way.

Then he leaped up and disappeared in a moment.

Now that things had come to this, everyone present looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

At this moment, an old monk wearing a bright red kasaya walked out from the Shaolin sect. He was none other than the Shaolin monk Kongzhi, who was leading the Shaolin delegation this time.

He clasped his hands together, his voice low and calm: "Amitabha. Since that's the case, as agreed, my Shaolin sect will withdraw from this siege."

After saying this, he nodded slightly to the Wudang heroes, then gave Zhang Wuji and Song Qingshu a deep look before turning around and leading the Shaolin monks down the mountain.

Shaolin is the head of the six major sects and the one in charge of this campaign to suppress the demonic sect.

With Kongzhi's statement, even if the other factions were unwilling, they could no longer maintain the stalemate.

First, he turned and left with the Huashan disciples.

The Kongtong and Kunlun factions followed closely behind.

Abbess Miejue was the last to leave, without saying a word, and the disciples of Emei followed silently.

Zhou Zhiruo lowered her head and took a few steps, finally unable to resist looking at Zhang Wuji.

Zhang Wuji was watching her leave.

Their eyes met, and a blush rose on Zhou Zhiruo's pale cheeks. Her eyes seemed to say, "I feel so bad for hurting you so badly. Please take good care of yourself."

Zhang Wuji seemed to understand her meaning and nodded slightly.

Zhou Zhiruo's face immediately lit up with joy, her spirits soaring. She turned around and quickened her pace, but for some reason, she looked in Song Qingshu's direction again.

To be honest, before Bright Summit, she had no feelings for Song Qingshu. Although this senior brother Song was extremely handsome and came from a good family, perhaps because Song Qingshu was too attentive to her, she just didn't like this disciple of the third generation of Wudang sect leader.

But for some reason, from the moment he saw her, Song Qingshu's eyes never left her, as if he had become a different person.

He never looked at her again after he went up to Bright Summit, which made her quite angry.

Especially Song Qingshu's demeanor just now, which made her heart flutter.

Song Qingshu naturally noticed Zhou Zhiruo's gaze, but he kept his eyes down and pretended not to see it.

Seeing Song Qingshu like this, Zhou Zhiruo felt a sense of loss.

After realizing what had happened, she couldn't help but inwardly berate herself: "Zhou Zhiruo, what's wrong with you? How can you be interested in two men at the same time?"

This time, their steps didn't falter; they continued far away.

In the blink of an eye, only the Wudang Sect and the Ming Cult remained on Bright Peak.

The siege of Bright Peak by the six major sects has now come to an end.

Song Qingshu finally breathed a sigh of relief.

To be honest, although he had acted all noble and righteous just now, he was actually afraid that some fool might jump out and challenge him.

At this moment, Zhang Wuji's tense nerves suddenly relaxed. The continuous battles and the blood loss from the sword wound on his right shoulder made his body unable to hold on any longer. He swayed and was on the verge of fainting.

"Wuji!" Yu Lianzhou reacted quickly, grabbing him and using her fingers to seal several acupoints on his shoulder to stop the bleeding.

Song Yuanqiao quickly stepped forward, examined Zhang Wuji's injuries, and seeing that although the injuries were serious, they had not reached the bones and tendons, he breathed a slight sigh of relief and asked gently:

"Wuji, are you still able to continue your journey? Your grandmaster has been thinking of you often these past few years. If you can hold on, why not come back to Wudang with us to recuperate?"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Wuji forced himself to stand firm, his face showing difficulty:

"Senior Uncle, I'm afraid Wuji is unable to return to Wudang with you all right now. Once I've recovered from my injuries, I will definitely go to Wudang to pay my respects to my Grandmaster as soon as possible."

Although Song Yuanqiao was reluctant to part with him, he also understood that Wuji's injuries were important.

"Very well. You stay here and take good care of your injuries. Your uncles and I will return to Wudang first to inform your grandmaster. He will be overjoyed to know that you are still alive."

Song Yuanqiao did not insist.

Firstly, Wuji had saved the Ming Cult's life, so the Ming Cult members would do their utmost to treat him.

Secondly, with Yin Tianzheng, his maternal grandfather, around, there's no need to worry about Wuji getting into any trouble.

He gave a few instructions, then turned around and clasped his hands in greeting to the Ming Cult members before heading down the mountain with the Wudang group. To be honest, he was a little worried about Yin Liting's condition just now.

Just then, Song Qingshu suddenly spoke up: "Father, I plan to stay."

Song Yuanqiao paused, then turned to look at his son.

Song Qingshu remained calm and continued:

"Junior Brother Wuji's injuries are quite serious, and he always needs someone to take care of him. I will stay and take care of him. Once he recovers, I will go back to Wudang with him, so that we can look after each other on the way."

Song Yuanqiao and Yu Lianzhou exchanged a glance, a hint of surprise flashing in their eyes.

To be honest, Song Yuanqiao, as Song's father, was quite satisfied with Song Qingshu's performance today—he did not lose the spirit of Wudang in front of all the heroes of the world.

Now that his son has volunteered to stay and take care of Wuji, his sense of responsibility fills him with pride.

He thought for a moment, then reached out and patted Song Qingshu on the shoulder: "Alright, Qingshu, you stay here and take good care of Wuji. I'll wait for you all to come back together."

"Don't worry, Father."

Song Qingshu readily agreed.

The group from Wudang gradually disappeared around the bend in the mountain path.

Song Qingshu watched them leave, secretly relieved.

He had his reasons for choosing to stay with the Ming Cult.

He knew perfectly well that the six major sects would be ambushed by Zhao Min on their way down the mountain.

There are three reasons why he did not inform the Wudang people.

Firstly, he couldn't explain this matter—how could a third-generation disciple of Wudang know that the imperial princess had set up an ambush on the way? If he said it out of thin air, who would believe him? It would only arouse suspicion.

Secondly, even if Wudang avoided the ambush under his guidance, it would be even more difficult to explain afterwards: the other five sects all fell into the ambush, but Wudang was the only one unscathed? At that time, even if Wudang had a mouth, it would be impossible to explain itself.

Thirdly, he knew that Zhao Min would not harm the masters of the six major sects, but would only imprison them in Wan'an Temple.

The heroes of Wudang will not be in immediate danger.

Staying with the Ming Cult is the best solution.

He knew exactly where the plot was headed—on the way down the mountain to greet the Golden Lion King after Zhang Wuji recovered from his injuries and became the leader of the Ming Cult, he would discover something unusual.

When the time comes, Song Qingshu will appear at the crucial moment to save Wudang and destroy Wan'an Temple. Several memorable scenes await his show-off skills.

That was when he truly shone.

Zhang Wuji, of course, had no idea that his senior brother Song was plotting this.

All he knew was that Senior Brother Song was worried about his injuries and took the initiative to stay in the Ming Cult to take care of him.

This senior brother, with whom he had no close relationship on Mount Wudang, first recognized him in public today, then risked offending the six major sects to protect him, and now he's staying to help him recover from his injuries.

This affection made Zhang Wuji feel a surge of warmth in his heart, and his eyes welled up with tears again.

"Senior Brother Song..." He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but didn't know where to begin.

Song Qingshu waved his hand, his smile gentle: "We're all brothers, why talk about such things? Just focus on recovering from your injury, don't worry about anything else."

On a distant hillside, a young man with an extremely handsome appearance watched the entire farce of the six major sects besieging Bright Peak.

This person was dressed in a brocade robe, holding a folding fan, with red lips and white teeth, and was even more beautiful than an ordinary woman.

It is naturally Zhao Min disguised as a man.

"What a Zhang Wuji!"

She closed the folding fan, lightly tapped her palm, and a cryptic smile appeared on her lips.

"You've ruined this great show of a bloody battle between the six major sects and the Ming Cult."

Her gaze shifted from Zhang Wuji to the young man in the moon-white Taoist robe, a look of interest flashing in her eyes.

"And Song Qingshu—that's interesting."

She turned around and instructed her subordinates, "Pass down the order: we can close the net now."

"Yes, Princess!"

The person beside him accepted the order and left.

Zhao Min stood with her hands behind her back, the mountain wind ruffling the hem of her robe. She gazed at the gradually dispersing crowd on Bright Summit, murmuring to herself:

"I thought I was just here to watch a good show, but I ended up meeting quite a few interesting people. Zhang Wuji... Song Qingshu... We'll meet again soon."

She waved her folding fan and strode down the mountain, a half-smile playing on her lips.