Chapter 113: How Could You Lie to Me?

After a long while, Bai Zhiwei said, “Don’t cry—let’s talk business first.”

The man wiped his tears and said, “I don’t know what business you mean—it’s up to you to decide.”

Bai Zhiwei understood: this man was merely an informant here, and he had no idea they were coming.

“We need someone to guide us past the Changmei Garrison.”

“You want to kill those bastards in Yuecheng?” The man’s eyes lit up.

“Yes.”

“Then that’s perfect—I’ll lead you there, but you’ve got to let me fight too.”

Bai Zhiwei smiled. “Naturally.”

“Then rest tonight. I’ll wait for you at the bamboo grove south of the village tomorrow morning.”

After speaking, the man left.

Yan Han asked, “Can we trust him? Should I follow him?”

Bai Yunfei’s betrayal had left Yan Han with deep psychological scars.

Now he viewed outsiders with at least some suspicion.

Bai Zhiwei shook his head. “No need. This man’s strong—if you trail him, he might notice and misunderstand. Besides, this order came from the County Magistrate—it’s fine.”

Yan Han sat back down.

The group ate their rations and began taking turns keeping watch or resting.

Li Lin slept soundly, since he had been on watch the night before.

At dawn, the group set out for the bamboo grove north of the village.

The man was already waiting.

But unlike last night, he now wore tight-fitting gear, gripping a broadsword, standing there.

Though his face was still as dark as before, his demeanor now carried a chilling, deadly aura.

Bai Zhiwei stepped forward and bowed. “May I ask your honorable name?”

“No need for formality—my surname is Fan, name Shan,” the man replied, returning the bow. “Greetings, all you Spirit Hunters.”

Spirit Hunters were easy to identify: one, they wore the Bai Yu token; two, their bodies radiated heavy yin energy.

Fan Shan continued, “No time to waste—let’s move. The mountain trails here are treacherous.”

The group naturally agreed.

Fan Shan led the way, soon beginning to climb.

Junchun had many mountains—everywhere were mountains, it was said there were a hundred thousand peaks... Worse, this was the Mountain Frontier: humid and warm, with dense forests. Even though Spirit Hunters were no ordinary men and had excellent stamina, after half a day’s trekking, all felt weary.

The terrain shifted constantly—up and down, everywhere trees and vines, sometimes requiring weapons to clear a path forward.

Ding Yingqiu brushed off leeches clinging to her arms and, hearing distant wolf howls, asked, “How long until we leave this forest?”

“At this pace, we’ll be out before dusk—and behind the Changmei Garrison,” Fan Shan smiled. “Don’t worry—I know this route well. I’ve walked it many times.”

“But I see no path at all here,” Ding Yingqiu complained.

Fan Shan laughed heartily. “Because only I walk it—of course it looks like no path to anyone else.”

So that was it.

The group followed Fan Shan a while longer, then emerged from the forest into a small cave.

Inside were some household items: a stone hearth, and a tiger-skin rug laid out as a bed.

“You slept here last night?” Ding Yingqiu stared at the tiger-skin bed in surprise. “Aren’t you afraid of the Wicked Spirits?”

“Of course I am,” Fan Shan chuckled. “Sometimes I come up to hunt, get tired, rest here for half an hour, then return to the village before dusk.”

I see.

The group rested here awhile, eating rations.

Half an hour later, they set out again.

This time it was downhill, and they moved faster.

Sure enough, they descended before dusk.

Bai Zhiwei pulled out a hand-drawn map, studied the surroundings, then nodded.

Everyone relaxed.

Fan Shan knew these Spirit Hunters didn’t fully trust him—he didn’t care—and pointed ahead. “The Changmei Garrison lies behind that mountain. If we’re to ambush them, head this way—there’s a royal road...”

Bai Zhiwei said admiringly, “You know this region intimately. Thank you for your efforts.”

“I’ve waited thirteen years for this chance,” Fan Shan’s face glowed with excitement. “Follow me.”

He strode ahead, leading the way.

Bai Zhiwei asked, “What chance have you waited thirteen years for?”

“Before I was sent here as an informant, my superior told me: if I proved useful, I could return to Yulin County. So I trained relentlessly, and under the guise of hunting, I scouted this area without ever slacking.”

“What did you do to get stuck with such a harsh assignment?”

Fan Shan fell silent a moment, then said, “Thirteen years ago, I had mastered my martial arts, young and reckless. One day, after a bit of wine, I saw a man harassing a woman on the street—I stepped in. But I hit too hard. Killed him.”

“The man was the son of a wealthy merchant. His father took me to the county courthouse,” Fan Shan said with gratitude. “I thought I was dead—after all, a rich man could buy any verdict. But the County Magistrate had just taken office. He refused bribes. He said though I’d committed a grave error, I acted out of righteousness, and my force was merely excessive. So I escaped death, but not punishment—I was exiled here. He said, ‘If you ever prove useful, and your mission succeeds, I’ll let you return.’”

No wonder he was so excited.

After waiting thirteen years for this day.

As evening fell, the Bai Yu tokens began to glow faintly.

The Wicked Spirits awoke, rising from the earth into the human world.

Fan Shan pointed to a plateau on the mountainside. “Hurry—this is a good spot. You can see everything on the royal road.”

The group immediately quickened their pace.

On the plateau, they found the view truly excellent—the royal road lay directly below.

Not only an ideal observation post, but also a perfect ambush point.

Ding Yingqiu immediately scattered the Yu Jie powder, forming a circle.

The group stepped inside, and the Bai Yu tokens’ red glow dimmed.

Fan Shan looked at the circle of Yu Jie powder, his expression nostalgic. “Back in the day, I was a Spirit Hunter too.”

“You were?”

Fan Shan nodded. “Yes. After I committed my crime, the County Magistrate stripped me of my Spirit Hunter status.”

“Then your yin energy isn’t strong...” Yan Han said.

“Without blood rice, I dared not practice yin-based cultivation. So I let it wither.”

While they chatted, Li Lin waved to Zhao Xiaohu.

“Lin Ge, what’s up?” Zhao Xiaohu sat beside Li Lin.

“When the fighting starts, stay by my side.”

“My spear skills are pretty good now.”

Li Lin sighed. “You’re still far from good. You’re only thirteen—fourteen after the New Year. You’ve got plenty of time to grow. No need to rush.”

Zhao Xiaohu thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll listen to you.”

At that moment, Ding Yingqiu pointed at Zhao Xiaohu. “You’re thirteen? You said you were thirty!”

Everyone stared at her in shock.

Zhao Xiaohu’s face flushed.

“How could you lie to me!” Ding Yingqiu’s face turned red with anger.

(End of Chapter)