They traveled through time at the same time, but the villainous scientist

Chapter 365 Tang Sect
In the reception room of the Tang Clan headquarters in Sichuan.

A simple, antique eight-immortal table served as the boundary, separating the two camps.

On one hand, there's Zhao Fangxu, a director of Nadutong Company.

He sat upright, the tea in front of him had already lost its heat.

On the other side were the leaders of the Tang Clan.

Tang Miaoxing, the inner sect leader, had his eyes slightly closed, as if he were resting. His fingers tapped the table lightly, and the unhurried rhythm became the only sound in this quiet room.

Zhang Wang, the outer sect leader, was much more fiery. His brows were furrowed into a deep frown, and he stared intently at Zhao Fangxu, as if he wanted to burn two holes in him.

Tang Qiushan, sitting at the end of the table, remained silent, but his tightly furrowed brows betrayed his inner turmoil.

The stalemate has lasted for a long time.

"Director Zhao."

Finally, Tang Miaoxing spoke first. His voice was calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.
"Years ago, you said that the traps in the back mountain were too dangerous and against the natural order, and that they should be demolished. Our Tang Clan cooperated without hesitation."

"Today, you sit here again, trying to uproot our Tang Clan. Isn't that going a bit too far?"

Zhang Wang immediately responded, his voice like a tempered steel blade, crisp and hard:
"That's right! The Ten Elders are indeed the Ten Elders. They have a large and powerful family, and they have established their own sects. They teach and pass on knowledge."

What is the Tang Clan? Assassins! Killers! Since ancient times, have you ever seen an assassin willingly hand over their weapon for all to see in the marketplace? That's tantamount to digging their own grave!

He became more and more excited as he spoke, and his spittle almost sprayed across the table.

He knew that the company's so-called "contribution point exchange" system was a huge temptation for those small factions with scarce resources.

But the Tang Clan is different. The Tang Clan's methods are like poison hidden in the shadows; once exposed to the sunlight, they lose all their power.

Zhao Fangxu's expression remained unchanged, as if he had already anticipated this reaction.

He looked directly at the three Tang Clan leaders before him, his tone official and composed:
"I understand how you all feel."

But this is not my personal opinion; it is a major policy from above, and an inevitable trend in line with the development of the times.

Even the sects to which the Ten Elders belong have handed over their respective cultivation methods as an example…

"Stop trying to intimidate us with your 'Ten Elders'!"

Zhang Wang slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup vibrate loudly.

"The Tang Clan is not under the jurisdiction of the Ten Elders! We only recognize our own rules!"

"Okay, Junior Brother."

Just as the atmosphere was about to become tense, Tang Miaoxing's calm voice rang out again. He raised his hand and gently pressed down, stopping Zhang Wang's outburst.

"Let's say less; there's no point in talking to him any further."

Tang Miaoxing's gaze passed over Zhao Fangxu, as if looking towards a place further outside the door, and her tone was meaningful, "We'll talk about it when the person who can really take charge arrives..."

Zhao Fangxu's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

A strange feeling rose in his heart.

In the negotiations over the past few days, Zhang Wang's attitude has been very clear: he will resolutely resist and not give an inch.

On the contrary, Tang Miaoxing, the inner sect leader, seemed gentle, but his attitude was ambiguous and unclear, as if he was deliberately stalling for time and keeping him hanging.

It turns out that he wasn't waiting for himself to give in, but for someone else.

Just as I was pondering this, the heavy wooden door to the reception room was pushed open from the outside with a soft creak.

A young figure walked in, his footsteps light, yet seemingly touching the very heartbeat of everyone in the room.

The person who arrived was none other than Zhuge Qing.

Zhao Fangxu immediately stood up, a relieved expression on his face, and introduced the two parties:
"Sect Master Tang, Sect Master Zhang, Elder Tang, this is Mr. Zhuge Qing."

Tang Miaoxing's gaze fell on Zhuge Qing, and after examining him closely, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. He then clapped his hands in praise:
"Haha, seeing is believing. Truly, heroes emerge from among the young."

Zhang Wang merely snorted coldly through his nostrils, turning his head to the side, not even bothering to give him a proper look.

Zhuge Qing didn't care about their attitude. He simply walked calmly to the table, sat down in the seat that Zhao Fangxu had given up, glanced at Tang Miaoxing and the other two, and then got straight to the point.

"Three seniors, let's speak frankly." His voice was clear and resonant, yet carried an undeniable penetrating power.

"Before I came here, I looked at the financial statements of Tangmen Martial Arts School for the past five years. How should I put it... the situation is not optimistic."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Wang's expression changed instantly.

"In the past, the Tang Clan relied on bounties and assassinations; it was a business of licking blood off the blade."

Entering the new century, this path is no longer viable, and the Tang Clan knows this better than anyone else.

So you opened a martial arts school, hoping to find a way to both make money and train disciples to carry on the family tradition.

The idea is good, but unfortunately...

Zhuge Qing seemed not to notice their reaction, paused for a moment, and then continued:
"Unfortunately, the methods of the Tang Clan are fundamentally different from those of the famous sects like Shaolin and Wudang."

Other people's martial arts can be performed, used to improve physical fitness, and used in competitions.

The Tang Clan's methods only pursue one thing—simplicity, efficiency, and a fatal blow.

Simply put, it lacks both aesthetic appeal and practical value.

In this day and age, who would spend a fortune to learn a killing skill they're destined never to use? And what parent would send their child to learn such a thing?

Zhuge Qing spoke calmly, his words like a precise scalpel, dissecting the festering wound beneath the Tang Clan's glamorous exterior.

Zhang Wang's face turned from red to white, and his lips moved a few times, but he couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.

Because what Zhuge Qing said was a bloody truth.

The martial arts school has long been operating at a loss, relying entirely on the old resources of the sect to keep it afloat.

"So, I'd like to ask the three seniors: what you're desperately trying to protect now, is it the name 'Tang Clan,' or the true inheritance of Tang Clan's methods?"

"In this era, there is no place for the old Tang Clan. If you continue to be so closed off, let alone five years, perhaps in three years or two years, there will be no young people willing to step into your school to learn these so-called 'killing techniques'."

"At that point, how can we even talk about passing on traditions?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it struck Tang Miao-xing, Zhang Wang, and Tang Qiushan like a heavy hammer.

The three elderly people's breathing became much heavier involuntarily.

Their thoughts seemed to be pulled back decades by this sentence.

Back then, they were still just kids, but they already had to go out on missions with their elders.

Hone your skills amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and feel the danger of death on the brink of life and death.

Every move he made was a life-or-death gamble.

But what about now? Those young disciples who are treated like precious treasures within the sect, let alone killing people, probably haven't even slaughtered a live chicken with their own hands.

This is a good era: peaceful, stable, and prosperous.

But for assassins, and for the Tang Clan, this was the worst of times.

From the moment they laid down their weapons and chose to open a martial arts school, the once fearsome Tang Clan was already dead in name only.

Zhao Fangxu watched from the side, nodding inwardly.

Zhuge Qing's move completely exposed the Tang Clan's weakness, crushing the most stubborn arrogance in these old guys' hearts. It was truly brilliant.

"you you……"

Zhang Wang was so angry that he trembled all over. He suddenly stood up, pointed at Zhuge Qing, but couldn't utter a complete sentence for a long time.

"Junior brother, sit down."

Tang Miaoxing spoke again, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of weariness. He reached out and pressed the enraged Zhang Wang back into his chair.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, the inner sect leader of the Tang Sect, who had been in charge for many years, slowly stood up, straightened his clothes, and bowed deeply to Zhuge Qing, who was even younger than his grandson.

"Sir's words were like a thunderclap, enlightening us and clearing our minds."

"The Tang Clan has reached a dead end. We beg Mr. Zhuge... to point out a bright path for our Tang Clan!"

(End of this chapter)