The Beautiful Boss's Personal Bodyguard
Chapter 582 - 581

Chapter 582: 581

Then, it was Zhang Liang who stood at the entrance of the headquarters for three days and two nights, until he finally received a condolence letter from the head of the headquarters.

This managed to keep his brothers’ hearts from growing cold.

Uerzha was truly in the dark about the origins of this bespectacled man. Some said he was the Closed-door Disciple of Seventh Uncle, who once dominated the northwest; others claimed he was just a minor lackey, acting bossy and arrogant because he had powerful backers, entirely clueless about restraint. Opinions varied, but Uerzha did not dare to take this young man lightly at all. Having crawled through life-and-death situations, theoretically, he should not give a second glance to such a tender-skinned scholar. Yet, the reality was that ever since the first time he laid eyes on him, Uerzha had been deeply wary of this man called Liu Zhiming.

Uerzha had a friend within the organization he was on good terms with, a Uighur named Taman, who had deliberately picked a quarrel when Liu Zhiming first arrived. As a result, Liu Zhiming merely glanced at him through his glasses, the corners of his mouth lifted in a cold smirk without uttering a word before turning to enter the tent. Following that glance, Taman fell silent, standing in place dumbfounded, not uttering a word to anyone, and remained standing there for three days and three nights until he was frozen to death in a blizzard. What was terrifying was that the man remained standing even in death. It took five brothers working together to lift and carry away the stiff body. When they loaded it onto the pickup truck, the truck’s tires were crushed flat. Eventually, the unbearable load caused a tire blowout, and when the driver got out to inspect, he discovered that the corpse in the vehicle had turned into a chilling skeleton.

Others were unaware of this incident, but Uerzha knew because he was the very driver who transported Taman’s body.

When it comes to ghosts, spirits, and witchcraft, others may not believe, but Uerzha does, without a doubt. In his time at the Southern Border, he had encountered gaunt old men invoking deities at altars and toying with Witchcraft rituals. The more one kills in the worldly society, the more they believe in fate, and in ghosts and spirits; otherwise, those underworld bosses, whose hands go numb from killing, wouldn’t worship Guan Gong.

Although this fair-skinned scholar had his methods, he had never been seen in actual combat with anyone, not even in a heated argument. Dogs that bite don’t bark, and they’re often the deadliest. Uerzha harbored not the slightest thought of defiance toward this suddenly emerged Liu Zhiming, unsure of how mighty a single glance of his could be. He certainly didn’t wish to be on the receiving end of that gaze.

Bamboo Mountain, covered in bamboo, has a temple on its summit, known as Two Zen Temple.

The person following behind Liu Zhiming was Uerzha, as dusk fell and the bamboo forest grew dim.

"Someone once told me, on the vast lands of Huaxia, there are nine hundred and six remarkable things, but speaking of Buddhist temples, there is only one worth mentioning—the Two Zen Temple, where one cultivates both personal and other’s Zen."

The Uerzha following behind did not understand the meaning of his words, just quietly trailing after him, while the others also kept their mouths shut, leaving only the rustling sound of bamboo leaves underfoot to fill the silent woods.

"Back then, he had a profound destiny here, claimed to be a gift from the heavens. I’ve been hiding by his side for over a dozen years, thinking that one day I might take charge of his house. Then I too would come here to look around—I wouldn’t dare to dream of encountering the same destiny, merely wishing to walk the path he walked, ponder his mentality, and then look back to consider how to take on the responsibilities of that house in the future."

Uerzha spoke in a suppressed voice, "From now on, we’ll follow Mr. Liu’s commands."

Liu Zhiming did not turn back, only waving his hand dismissively, "I’m just a delivery man. Frankly, our relationship is nothing more than that of a supervisor and an employee. It would be enough for me if you don’t curse me in your hearts. There’s no need for talk of devotion and service."

"I wouldn’t dare."

Liu Zhiming didn’t speak, but paused in his steps, plucked a leaf from a hanging bamboo branch, and deftly twirled it between his fingers.

"There is nothing in this world that people would not dare to do. Initially, I never thought I would come here, to walk his path, partly because it’s too far, and partly... heh, he holds a significant place in my heart. If I can’t step out of that shadow, I fear I’d forever remain his Closed-door Disciple, lingering behind him."

Uerzha felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Was this guy really Seventh Uncle’s Closed-door Disciple?

"Do you know how to surpass him?"

The bespectacled scholar with the backpack smiled looking into the distance, where there were bamboo groves and houses, and further up, the grey small temple.

Uerzha’s body began to shake, not sure whether he regretted coming here.

"He lived for fifty years, thirty years spent on killing, and twenty years spent on training me. I heard he killed a total of one hundred and three people in his lifetime, not including those indirectly killed due to drugs, enemies, and such. He said that the day I kill more people than him, I could establish my own sect."

As he spoke, the seven or eight people behind him began to fidget restlessly. This place was deserted, with no villages in front or shops behind. To put it harshly, dying here, no one would notice besides the wild dogs.

The lush green bamboo leaf gently brushed against his lips, "That year I was eighteen, but unfortunately, I had only killed twenty-three people, well short of the number he expected. Out of options, to make up numbers, I could only kill him. I take my hat off to my cheap master for being understanding; he even praised me for my decisive action and generalship before he died, saying I was truly his disciple. Heh heh."

A faint smile hung on the lips of the bespectacled man, "One hundred and three, just missing eight, now that’s a perfect number."

"Go to hell!"

A perspiring man took two strides in one from behind and drew a hidden knife from his waist, rushing towards Liu Zhiming. But before he could reach him, a severed head had already fallen to the ground, with blood spurting two meters high from the neck, dyeing the nearby bamboo red. Only the young man with a backpack in front remained uncontaminated.

"The ninety-sixth."

A blood-stained bamboo leaf returned to his fingers, with a drop of blood rolling down the vein and falling to the ground, pressing a dead, yellow leaf into the earth.

Uerzha slowly retreated, cautious with his footsteps, even lighter than the fallen leaves beneath him, retreating in line with the six others behind him.

"The master said, when a man takes action, he must undertake grand tasks that stand tall in heaven and earth, regardless of whether there’s hope for success or not, one must be fiercer than those shivering in the corner. I’ve always had unshakable faith in master’s words. If he says there’s a Buddha in this world, then I shall devoutly follow Buddhism. He told me to kill a hundred and three people, so I must dutifully obey my master’s words. Just seven more to go."