Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

Chapter 92 Slaughtering the Zhang Family

Li Wei was defeated by Song Jing with lightning speed in full view of everyone. He was seriously injured and coughed up blood. The news that he lost the position of the head of the academy spread like a plague throughout the outer city of Tianshui City at dusk.

Inside the Zhang family's inner quarters, Zhang Wu sat alone in the dimly lit study, his face ashen, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

He thought of Song Jing's godlike and demonic figure on the training ground during the day, and of Li Wei's miserable state of flying backward like a tattered sack and vomiting blood. His chest felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, and he almost suffocated.

"Bang!"

He could no longer control himself and slammed the expensive celadon tea set he was holding onto the ground!

Shards and scalding hot tea splashed everywhere, leaving messy marks on the clean floor.

"How is this possible—how is this possible!" Zhang Wu's eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse like the growl of a trapped beast. "Li Wei is at the peak of the Copper Skin Realm! He has mastered the Black Mountain Fist Technique! He has mastered the Wind Chasing Leg Technique! How could he lose? How could he possibly lose?!"

He suddenly stood up and paced anxiously back and forth in the study, each step so heavy it seemed he would break through the floorboards.

"Song Jing—that little bastard—how could he be at the mid-stage of the Bronze Skin Realm? It's only been a few months!" Zhang Wu felt a chill run through his body as he thought about it, a coldness shooting from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

His worst fears came true.

Not only did Song Jing not die, but he grew at a despairing speed, becoming so strong that even his biggest backer, Li Wei, was defeated head-on and left without any chance to fight back!

What does this mean?

This means that the previous conflict at the gambling den, the deaths of Sun Li and Liu Jiankun, and even something deeper—Song Jing could come knocking on his door at any time and settle accounts with him one by one!

"No—I absolutely cannot sit idly by and wait to die!" Zhang Wu abruptly stopped, his eyes flashing with ruthlessness and madness. "Li Wei is barely holding on himself; he can't be relied upon. As for the Black Tiger Gang—Gang Leader Qin Yue is at a crucial juncture in his breakthrough to the Body Refining Realm; he certainly won't emerge easily. Now, only my family can save me!"

As if grasping at the last straw, he stumbled out of the study and headed straight for the family council hall.

The council hall was brightly lit, where the Zhang family patriarch, the third uncle Zhang Tianqi, and several clan elders were discussing important matters.

When Zhang Wu burst in, looking distraught and seemingly insane, everyone frowned.

"Father! Third Uncle! Save me!" Zhang Wu knelt down with a thud, his voice filled with anguish. "That little beast Song Jing has become a major threat! He defeated Li Wei in the martial arts competition today, and his next target will definitely be me! We must gather all the strength of the family and completely eliminate him before his cultivation level stabilizes and his injuries heal! Otherwise, the consequences will be endless!"

The council chamber fell silent instantly.

The elders exchanged grave glances. They had only just learned of Song Jing's victory over Li Wei and were currently troubled by the matter.

This child's growth rate is truly terrifying, seriously threatening the core interests of the Zhang family—especially those of the Black Tiger Gang.

If the Blood Lotus Sect's shady dealings are exposed, it will be a catastrophe! More importantly, it concerns whether Li Wei can successfully break through to the Body Refining Realm, and it concerns the Zhang family's future backing!

Zhang Wu is the heir whom the Zhang family has been grooming with all their might. He is the key to participating in the martial arts competition in the future, making a name for himself, and breaking through. Therefore, he absolutely cannot afford to fail.

In the main seat, the third uncle, Zhang Tianqi, with his white hair and beard and withered face, slowly opened his eyes.

He was over sixty years old, and his vital energy had declined, but his cultivation at the late stage of the Copper Skin Realm was still profound. His ancestral Black Mountain Fist technique had reached a high level of mastery, making him the undisputed number one expert in the Zhang family.

"This kid—" Zhang Tianqi's voice was hoarse, yet it carried a chilling aura. "He really can't be allowed to live. He was able to defeat Li Wei, so his strength is probably close to the late stage of the Bronze Skin Realm. If we give him more time to grow, he will definitely become a major threat to our Zhang family. Taking advantage of the fact that he has just experienced a great battle, his true energy is depleted, and his realm is not yet stable, this is the best time to kill him."

The Zhang family patriarch gritted his teeth and nodded, a murderous glint in his eyes: "Third Uncle is right! Mobilize all the Iron Skin Realm experts in the clan, and also invite those two elders. We must kill him in one blow, leaving no future trouble! We absolutely cannot let this brat see the sun rise tomorrow!"

The group quickly reached a consensus and began to deploy troops. A deadly net targeting Song Jing was quietly spread in the night.

However, they underestimated Song Jing's determination, and even more so, his terrifying strength and ability to act.

Just as the Zhang family was busily setting up their trap, Song Jing's murderous intent, like a cold, sharp blade, had already reached the Zhang family's residence.

The night was deep, the moon was hidden and the stars were few.

In a secluded courtyard in the west of the city, Song Jing slowly opened his eyes. Golden light swirled in his eyes, and his aura was as deep and solid as a mountain.

The slight damage from the daytime battle has long since been recovered under the nourishment of the premium Skin Tempering Pill, and his mid-stage Copper Skin Realm has been completely stabilized, even faintly touching the threshold of the late stage.

"It's time."

He muttered to himself, changed into an inconspicuous gray outfit, covered his face with a mask, revealing only a pair of cold, sharp eyes.

Pushing open the courtyard gate, his figure, like a ghost blending into the night, disappeared into the depths of the alley in a few leaps.

Target—Zhang Family.

The Zhang family mansion occupies a vast area, with high walls and deep courtyards, and is heavily guarded.

However, for Song Jing, who had already mastered the Wind-Stepping and Swallow-Stepping techniques to an unparalleled level, these defenses were practically useless.

Like a weightless leaf, he silently scaled the high wall, evaded the patrolling guards, and made precise infiltration towards the core area of ​​the inner residence.

The first target is Zhang Wu.

Inside the study, Zhang Wu remained restless, his face appearing exceptionally pale in the candlelight.

A jug of strong liquor sat before him, and he had already drunk half of it, yet he could not suppress the growing fear in his heart.

"No—I have to go to my father and tell the family to take action immediately. We can't wait any longer—" he muttered to himself, about to get up.

Suddenly, the study door opened silently.

A masked gray figure stood in the doorway like a ghost, its cold eyes silently watching him.

"Who?!" Zhang Wu's hair stood on end, and he shouted sharply, instinctively reaching for the long sword on the table.

However, the figure moved.

Fast! Faster than Zhang Wu's eyes could perceive!

He only saw a blurry afterimage flash before his eyes, and then a violent and incomparably fierce force, like thunder, slammed into his chest!

"puff--!"

Zhang Wu was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into the bookshelf behind him, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

His chest was deeply caved in, his heart was broken, and blood mixed with fragments of internal organs gushed from his mouth.

His eyes widened as he stared intently at the masked figure slowly approaching, his gaze filled with utter horror, fear, and—disbelief.

"You—you are—" Zhang Wu's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but only more blood foam gushed out.

The masked man, Song Jing, walked up to him, looking down at him with cold, emotionless eyes.

He slowly raised his hand and removed his face mask.

Upon seeing that young, calm, yet chillingly indifferent face, Zhang Wu's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints, and his last glimmer of life quickly vanished. Yet, his eyes remained fixed, filled with resentment and bitterness.

"Song—Song Jing—you—" he hissed with his last ounce of strength, "Senior Brother—Black Tiger Gang Leader—will not—let you go—"

Before he could finish speaking, his head lolled to the side, and he breathed his last. Even in death, his eyes remained wide open, unable to close in peace.