Makeup (Part 1)

At this time of year, the forests in the mountains are lush and green.

The new disciple pushed a cart covered in blood-stained weapons, while the veteran disciple sat cross-legged at the front, his mouth stuffed with smuggled rations, his free hand free to direct the troops.

"...You only need to collect the weapons and send them to the Purple Gold Hall for inventory and registration."

The old disciple kicked away the sword that was sliding towards his leg, and his tone was not patient.

The man pulling the cart in front nodded repeatedly and said, "Thank you, Senior Brother Zhang, for your guidance." He praised Zhang Jun so much that he was speechless.

Zhang Jun smiled with his eyes narrowed, thinking that this boy who had just entered the mountain gate was young, sweet-mouthed, and good at reading people's expressions. He could be taken care of more.

As they were talking, the wooden cart passed through the forest and arrived at a larger open space, which was the Lingyun training ground.

Zhang Jun touched the remaining dry food in his arms, thinking about where to hide when he returned to the Disciple Hall. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of a man in gray sitting under the stage in the training ground.

He immediately jumped up from the cart, wiped his mouth roughly with his hand, walked around to the new disciple and pretended to push the cart.

After these actions, the two of them arrived at the training ground in the same car, and many disciples in the ground turned their heads to look at them.

The new disciple was quite clever. Seeing his inexplicable movements, he didn't ask a single question. Instead, he pretended to step back a few steps before squeezing forward again. He said in a voice neither too loud nor too soft, "Brother Zhang, you've worked hard pushing the push all the way up the mountain. I've rested for so long, let me do it."

Zhang Jun looked at him approvingly, declined a few words, and then stepped aside with his hands behind his back.

The new disciple breathed a sigh of relief, exerted force with his arms, and his eyes unconsciously looked towards the stage.

Two disciples were competing on the Lingyun training ground.

The young man in blue was particularly impressive. His movements were fluid, his short sword in hand, unfazed by the ferocious, unstoppable blade energy. With a flick of his wrist, he firmly blocked the blade, forcing the opponent back to the edge of the stage.

Lingyun Training Ground was a clearing in the valley, with a barely passable platform erected. Standing on it would cause one's body to tilt halfway. Therefore, no matter how quickly someone lost, as long as they could stand steady, they were considered skilled.

There were a few tables and chairs scattered about the stage, with a few bare tree stumps nearby. It wasn't a grand place, but it still attracted quite a few people.

The young man in blue shirt steadily put away his dagger, clasped his fists calmly amidst the compliments, his eyes always fixed on the middle-aged man in gray clothes off the court.

Seeing that the man in gray didn't pay any attention to him, the corners of his mouth drooped and then curled up again.

While he was distracted, someone else jumped up, holding a sword and said, "Brother Ke, please give me some advice!"

The young man in blue shirt smiled calmly and returned the hug.

The two people pushing the cart did not attract much attention, and the new disciple looked back several times as he pushed the cart.

In the half month since he joined the sect, he has been fighting with others for food on the mountain, trying to please old disciples and helping them do evil things. It seems that his life is no different from the days before he came to the mountain.

But at this moment, he finally felt a sense of joy that wasn't his own, in the blue-shirted boy's swift movements and the long, flowing hair and clothes. It was a joy that made it difficult for him to look away.

Seeing him engrossed in his studies, Zhang Jun explained, "This is Senior Brother Ke Congzhou. His father was the previous head of the sect, and the current head was also raised by his father. He is now a disciple of Master Hu of the Zhongyi Hall."

After just a few words, the new disciple realized that Senior Brother Ke was a favored child on the mountain.

He hesitated and said, "Master Hu, is it the one wearing gray clothes?"

It seems that all the disciples here respect and fear this man. A few days ago, he and his roommates were robbed. During the fight, someone shouted "Master Hu is coming", and everyone scattered like birds and beasts.

Zhang Jun unconsciously lowered his voice, "That's him. I heard he's been in the mountains for over thirty years, and in charge of Zhongyi Hall for thirteen. He taught both the former and current heads of the sect."

The car had already been pushed far away. Seeing that no one was around, Zhang Jun started to speak in a pretentious manner in front of the newcomers: "The people in the martial arts world respect our Su Jian Mountain. Most of the reputation is earned by Master Hu. He is the first person to practice the 'Su Jian Jue' to the seventh level."

Zhang Jun raised his chin, calm and composed, "Everyone who comes to our Sujian Mountain wants to practice the Sujian Technique. It's even more fortunate to be able to enter the Zhongyi Hall."

His eyes were filled with contempt. "As for you, just work hard in Zijin Hall first. When you have strengthened your muscles and bones, I can help you."

The new disciple had heard countless such boasts from the people down the mountain. He still wore a respectful expression on his face, but in his heart he thought, "When I was five years old, I said this to the black dog that stole my steamed buns. The dog didn't even fall for it, so how could he try to trick me?"

All new disciples who have joined the mountain have to work in the Purple Gold Hall.

Although Zhang Jun had been in the mountains for several years, he was lazy and did not practice martial arts diligently, so he worked his way up from the youngest member of Zijin Hall to a senior member.

Seeing that the newlyweds were already busy, he fetched two buckets of well water as a token of his appreciation and then took a nap by the doorstep.

The new disciple kept smiling as he enthusiastically soaked the cloth in water and began to scrub the weapon.

He was an orphan, and the old beggar who took care of him called him Awu.

He cleaned the weapons, some new, some old, some good, some broken, and was careful to avoid the sharp edges. Every time he lowered his head, the snow-white blades reflected his face, and he still felt a chill in his heart.

After pouring two basins of blood, A Wu stopped and felt a little discouraged.

He was tricked here by someone, and the person who tricked him here said that this place was called "jianghu", where you can take revenge and learn skills.

The old beggar was stabbed to death by a soldier. He would recall the snow blade in his dreams every night. On impulse, he gave the last half of his steamed bun to the starving black dog in the temple, and went up the mountain alone.

It’s a pity that this is not a place where you can learn skills, but a den of bandits.

They had to rob for food and money, and from time to time they would fight with bandits from the neighboring hills. But then again, these people were practicing martial arts, not cultivating immortality. If they didn't rob, would they just starve in the mountains?

He consoled himself by thinking that at least there were no soldiers here and he didn't have to compete with dogs for food.

Just as he was thinking about it, he heard a burst of laughter and noise outside the Purple Gold Hall.

Ah Wu leaned over to look and saw a thin figure holding a sword, and groaned in his heart.

Sure enough, a large group of people came here with the people holding swords.

Zhang Jun opened his eyes dazedly, and when he saw the person coming, he grinned, "Oh, isn't this our Senior Sister Meng who can practice the Su Jian Jue?"

Ah Wu pulled up the cart beside him and pushed it over to the pile of weapons on the ground. He bent his legs slightly, trying to escape this dangerous place, but Zhang Jun pulled him over with an elbow.

Before he could stand firmly, this "Senior Sister Meng" was kicked to the ground by the people behind her.

Receiving such a great gift, Ah Wu moved on tiptoe at a loss. When he met the man's cold eyes, he trembled even more in his heart.

This was the man who had caused trouble in the mountains since then.

Ah Wu looked around and saw that everyone had an expression of gloating on their faces. His "frightened" look was really inconsistent with these people's expressions, so he had to force himself to laugh out loud.

Zhang Jun unconsciously began to "shift the blame": "Senior Sister Meng, this is just a young disciple who has just entered the sect. Why are you being so polite?"

As soon as he finished speaking, A Wu and the others were all given a cold look.

Ah Wushuang's knees were shaking. Besides being afraid of retaliation, he was also feeling guilty.

He knew nothing about the past grudges between Senior Sister Meng and the mountain people. He only knew that the people in the sect seemed to have taken pleasure in bullying her. Not long after arriving here, Ah Wu was forced to join in and knocked over the other party's porridge bowls twice.

Eating in the mountains is no easier than at the foot of the mountains, and food is difficult to get.

A Wu felt that he was an accomplice to the evil, but at the same time he was afraid that he would be punished by God for wasting food.

He met the other person's ferocious gaze and shouted in a pretentious manner, "What are you looking at? Be careful or I'll dig your eyes out."

Meng Shizhuang looked at his accomplice, who looked fierce but was actually weak, without saying a word. He supported himself with one hand and held his sword with the other, trying to get up from the ground. He was halfway up when he was kicked in the shoulder.

He was much thinner than his peers and had not eaten for many days. He was kicked a long way away. He staggered a few steps and rolled onto the car, then rolled from one end of the car to the other and rolled into a pile of swords and weapons.

When he got up, there were several bloodstains on his face.

Everyone ignored her hatred and laughed at her loudly instead.

"Senior Sister, I'm sorry. You can even practice the Su Jian Jue. We didn't expect you to be unable to even stand steadily."

"Not only can I not stand steadily, I can't even hold the sword."

"Isn't this what you hold every day?"

"That's not hugging, that's dragging!"

Meng Shizhuang gritted his teeth, raised his sleeve to wipe his face, walked around the weapon and went back to pick up the sword.

He couldn't see the expressions of these people with his back turned, but Ah Wu understood. He thought for a moment and laughed: "Forget it, brothers, a good man doesn't fight with a woman, let alone a woman who can practice the Su Jian Jue, she is precious."

There was another round of teasing.

When A Wu saw them stop teasing him, he was still holding his breath when he saw Meng Shizhuang looking back at him.

To be honest, when Ah Wu first saw Meng Shizhuang, he didn't think she was a woman. Her face was thin and sallow, and her features were more masculine, sharp and resolute. And perhaps because she had been bullied in the sect for many years, her whole demeanor was gloomy.

As soon as Wu Yi saw her eyes, he knew that his kindness had been taken for granted, and the other party obviously hated him even more now.

Meng Shizhuang walked forward dragging the sword, and the half of his face that was scratched began to twitch.

There was another sound of breaking wind behind him. He resisted the urge to dodge and endured it. He staggered a few steps and fell to his knees again.

Those people laughed enough and walked past Meng Shizhuang, arm in arm, "How dare you, the daughter of a traitor, stay on the mountain?"

Meng Shizhuang clenched his fists and stood up with his sword without saying a word.

He clutched his chest and tightened the belt around his waist with one hand. Then, dragging his sword, he walked out woodenly.

Meng Shizhuang dragged his sword as he walked and stopped, going into the Lingyun training ground and then going out again.

When the disciples in the training ground saw her, they all turned their heads away. There was a ferocious god in front of them, and they did not dare to make fun of Meng Shizhuang in front of this ferocious god.

Lao Hu sat in the training grounds for several hours, his mind not actually on Ke Congzhou. He lowered his head to light the tea leaves in his cup when he heard a whisper behind him.

"She held the sword close to her chest all day, afraid that others wouldn't know she was the owner of the 'Su Jian'."

"That's right. The sect rules say that women cannot practice the Su Jian Jue. I'm quite capable of it."

Lao Hu immediately realized who they were talking about.

He frowned and stood up suddenly, which scared the disciples around him.

Ke Congzhou on the stage had been paying attention to his reaction, and stopped when he saw this.

Lao Hu shouted sternly, "Everyone must run fifty laps around the mountain today. You are not allowed to eat until you finish!"

The disciples looked at each other, not daring to breathe.

Lao Hu lifted his robe and walked out: "None of you are interested in practicing swordsmanship, why don't you get off the mountain as soon as possible?"

Ke Congzhou's face froze, and he clutched his dagger and called out to him, "Master..."

Lao Hu left without even looking back.