Chapter 656: The Old Town

Jingzhou lies in the northwestern part of Yue State; due to its remote location, large cities are few, while small towns and villages are common. The region is dotted with low hills and barren wastelands devoid of human presence.

Thus, bandits known as the "Mao" Gang in Jingzhou far outnumber those in other states, making it the most lawless and chaotic region. No major martial sect has ever managed to unify this area.

Yet this also fostered a fierce local character, with escort agencies and horse caravans flourishing in abundance—a stark contrast to the sheer number of bandits.

On this day, a scene common throughout Jingzhou unfolded once more along a dirt road in the wilderness.

Over a hundred burly men clad in coarse linen, their heads bound with black cloth, swung an array of weapons as they surrounded and attacked more than thirty men in blue robes. Amidst the blue-clad men, several high-roofed carriages were tightly guarded. It was a fierce battle between bandits and an escort agency.

Behind the bandits stood three black-clad men with similar faces, watching coldly, their expressions occasionally flashing cruel malice.

Near the carriages, several young, strong men dressed as retainers held clubs, their faces tense with nervousness.

Inside the next three or four carriages sat several women and children dressed in lavish attire; in the largest carriage up front sat a middle-aged Confucian scholar, his expression calm.

He had three long, jet-black beards, seemingly frail and incapable of lifting a chicken, yet he carried an aura of long-standing authority that made others dare not underestimate him.

Opposite the scholar sat a burly man with a curly beard, clad in blue brocade, leaning against the carriage wall.

His hands were thick and calloused, his eyes gleaming with sharp light—he was a rare top-tier martial master.

These two clearly held extraordinary status; both remained composed and at ease, and this large carriage contained only them—no third person shared their ride.

The two remained silent, yet through the half-closed window of the carriage, they could clearly see the scene outside. The cries of battle and screams occasionally drifted into the carriage.

The black-turbaned bandits outnumbered the blue-clad escort guards, but the guards were more skilled; for a time, the two sides were locked in stalemate, unable to gain the upper hand.

Seeing this, the scholar smiled faintly and suddenly spoke to the man across from him.

"It seems you need not trouble yourself, Brother Li—the Tianwu Escort Agency can handle this easily!"

"Heh! If those three leaders of the black-turbaned bandits don't intervene, the Tianwu Escort Agency can certainly deal with these riffraff. But if those three step in, these guards and assistants won't stand a chance. After all, the three leaders of the black-turbaned bandits are infamous Henjiao s in Jingzhou's underworld. Word has it they're triplets, exceptionally skilled in coordinated combat. Ordinary martial artists stand no chance against them." The man spoke, a hint of excitement flickering across his face. He curled his thick fingers slightly, producing a series of sharp "crack, crack" sounds—clearly the result of supreme external martial arts mastery.

"Brother Li, whenever you speak of fighting, you always get this restless itch. It's just like your late father, Li Bo." The scholar chuckled at the man's expression, helpless yet amused.

"Brother Han, it's natural. Our Li family has always passed down martial arts. When we encounter intriguing opponents, we naturally want to test them. Just as your Han family, generations of scholars, always produce one or two who enter imperial service. But what puzzles me is this: our Han and Li families are so utterly different—how did we ever become lifelong allies? And how have we maintained such close ties for so many generations?" The man crossed his arms, looking puzzled.

"Heh. The other day, I happened to flip through some old journals and learned a bit about our ancestors' past. If you're curious, I can tell you a few things—but I don't know how much of it's true." The scholar smiled lightly.

"Really? Our Li family never kept records of our ancestors. Aside from preserving a few exquisite martial arts manuals, we have no record at all of how our Han and Li families originally became connected." The Li man's eyes lit up with curiosity—he clearly found this intriguing.

"Bad news. Those three have finally moved." The burly man glanced outside, his expression shifting slightly.

In a flash, he shot out of the carriage like a released crossbow bolt.

Immediately, his roaring laughter echoed outside, followed by a surge of violent clashes and screams.

The scholar sighed, shook his head gently, and lowered the carriage curtain, no longer looking outside—as if he had complete faith in the man.

After a cup of tea's time, the sounds outside finally faded.

The carriage curtain stirred, and the man rushed in, dusty and weary, a faint red stain on his shoulder—as if he'd suffered minor wounds. Yet he laughed heartily at the scholar.

"Those three had some real skill—I had to work harder than expected. But I killed them all. From now on, the Black-Turbaned Bandits are gone from Jingzhou." The bearded man looked thoroughly satisfied.

The scholar's expression turned apologetic.

"If not for your presence, Brother Li, my journey home for ancestral rites would have become my death path. It seems those enemies truly hate me enough to send assassins. But now I've dragged you into this."

"What drag? Our Li family has survived in the martial world this long only because your Han family has aided us multiple times. Mutual support between our families is only natural." The Li man dismissed it casually.

"You're right—I was being overly sentimental." The scholar smiled, his expression returning to normal—he was clearly a man who could let go.

"But, Brother Han! Don't forget to tell me about our families' past—I'm very curious!" The man applied a golden wound ointment to his shoulder, then suddenly remembered and pressed.

"Of course. The story of how our two families became lifelong allies is truly extraordinary. Do you remember the Qixuan Sect, which once dominated Jingzhou City decades ago? Our ancestors were once fellow disciples within that sect. According to the journal, one of your Li ancestors and one of my Han uncles were as close as brothers, supporting each other. That's how our families began their alliance. And that uncle of mine was no ordinary man. It's said that back then…"

As the middle-aged scholar spoke softly, the blue-clad men buried the corpses of both sides on the spot. The carriages resumed their journey, gradually vanishing into the desolate land.

…

"Qingniu Town?"

Han Li hovered hundreds of zhang above ground, bathed in blue light, gazing down at the small town, a hint of confusion on his face.

Though the town was tiny—barely a few li across—it bore no resemblance whatsoever to the small village he remembered, which had consisted of only a single street.

Yet according to his memory, this was unquestionably the old Qingniu Town.

It seemed that after over a hundred years away, the once-small village had grown into a true town.

Han Li stood motionless in the air for a moment, hesitated, then activated a concealment technique. His form sank silently into an unnoticed alley. Only then did he walk out boldly, following the narrow street at a slow pace.

"It's truly different!" Han Li murmured to himself, staring at the utterly unfamiliar houses and pavilions lining the street.

For some reason, though he knew that flying just a little farther west would reveal his birth village and the dark, towering Green Mountain, he hesitated—and unconsciously descended into this transformed Qingniu Town.

Now, Han Li appeared calm on the surface, but inwardly he desperately hoped to find even a single familiar shadow from his past.

But so far, he had only felt disappointment.

Suddenly, Han Li slowed his steps and stopped at a three-way intersection.

He stared fixedly at a dilapidated little tavern beside the crossroad, motionless.

The tavern was short and ancient, only two stories tall, with a deep yellow sign hanging above its door bearing the characters "Chunxiang." This was the very place where Han Li had once stayed for two days—the tavern once run by his third uncle, "Han the Fat."

Gazing at the tavern, Han Li's long-forgotten memories burst open like a dam.

His round-faced, chubby third uncle; the tiny, cramped courtyard behind the tavern; the dimly lit side rooms; the fragrant, delicious meals; the black-horsed carriage bearing the small flag of the Qixuan Sect… all of it surfaced vividly before his eyes.

Han Li stared at the tavern, his face filled with complex emotion, a faint glimmer of melancholy in his gaze.

After a moment, he noticed passersby staring at him with strange expressions. It was no wonder—why else would a young man stand motionless, staring intently at a dilapidated tavern?

Han Li thought briefly, his expression returning to calm. He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked toward the tavern.

Net