Chapter 60: The Little Paper Figures Earn Great Merit

Qin Feng’s strength was formidable; as a former steward of the Yang household, he had always possessed solid martial foundations.

After Yang Shi Yan became Imperial Consort, the entire Yang family relocated to Jingcheng, but he remained here and founded the “Qin Clan.”

Grateful for Qin Feng’s past service, the Yang family occasionally sent down imperial favors from Jingcheng.

Such as gold, silver, treasures, high-grade medicinal herbs, and… various martial arts manuals and occult scriptures collected by the palace.

Though none were the absolute pinnacle, even the palace’s lesser manuals could hardly be inferior!

With the dual boost of high-grade herbs and solid martial manuals, Qin Feng’s martial skill soared, and he even learned several occult techniques.

He could have become a Spirit Hunter, but he scorned the idea.

A lord of his stature becoming a Spirit Hunter?

He felt it would demean him.

So when masked figures leapt down from both sides, he felt no alarm—only excitement.

“Thieves! I’ve finally caught you.”

Qin Feng roared with laughter, smashed one masked man away with a palm strike, seized the copper net overhead with both hands, twisted hard, and flung the four men holding the net’s corners flying.

Hahaha!

Qin Feng hurled the copper net to the ground, spun around, and punched another masked man who had closed in, sending him spitting blood backward.

He was about to kill a few more masked men when Ding Junhui and Wang Tianyou, both masked, attacked from the side.

Ding Junhui wielded an iron rod, narrow at the tip, thick at the hilt, favoring thrusting strikes aimed relentlessly at the lower body.

Wang Tianyou’s soft sword whirled into a cloud of silver flowers.

Both were prodigies of their generation, rarely matched, yet together they could only temporarily suppress Qin Feng for a moment.

Dodging the rod aimed at his groin, Qin Feng scanned the surroundings and barked: “Where’s the other coward hiding? Why won’t he show himself?”

Neither Wang Tianyou nor Ding Junhui answered; they only pressed their attacks.

Though the Ding family brought over twenty skilled fighters, and Wang Tianyou with his three subordinates were formidable, Qin Feng’s side had fewer than ten men—yet even with this advantage, they could not fully crush the Qin family’s counterattack.

It had to be said: the Qin family’s experts were truly formidable.

Li Lin crouched behind the eaves, revealing only half his head as he observed the battle below.

These fighters churned up dust and stones, blood and flesh flew everywhere, and someone screamed and fell to the ground every few moments.

He stared in awe.

Though he’d recently improved his spear technique considerably, he still lagged far behind those who had spent years immersed in martial arts.

Not to mention facing Qin Feng head-on—even Wang Tianyou’s swirling silver sword, even with the reach advantage of his long weapon, would be nearly impossible to block.

But this was a rare chance: observe how experts fight, learn a little.

He watched intently, yet his hands slowly formed seals.

He didn’t want to form them faster—faster seals stirred stronger qi fluctuations, making them easier for enemies to sense.

After more than ten breaths, Li Lin finally completed the seals without triggering any qi disturbance.

A chain of crimson and azure lightning formed above the battlefield.

Just as the lightning was about to strike, Qin Feng leapt backward, and Ding Junhui and Wang Tianyou also retreated.

The lightning struck the ground, blinding everyone on the battlefield with its flash.

In their eyes, the world darkened for an instant, then blazed bright again, then dimmed once more.

Deafening thunder cracked in their ears.

For true experts, even hidden occult qi fluctuations were still too obvious.

Easy enough to dodge.

Li Lin knew this was mainly because he’d only just learned the technique.

If he had two or three more years, Qin Feng might not have dodged that lightning.

At that moment, Qin Feng covered his eyes with his sleeve and shouted: “Qin Liu! That bastard is nearby—find him!”

His eyes were bloodshot.

A middle-aged man in Qin household retainer attire leapt from behind a tiled roof nearby—he spotted Li Lin at once.

There was no help for it: after using the technique, Li Lin had been revealed from stealth.

Li Lin turned to flee, but the man’s lightness skill was swift—he caught up quickly.

Hearing the whistle of the attack from behind, Li Lin thrust his spear backward.

Reverse Spear!

The man had clearly anticipated it—he stopped instantly as the spear tip rose.

The spear point halted just before his nostrils; a slight forward push would pierce him.

But Li Lin’s attack was spent—he immediately retracted the spear into defense.

The man named Qin Liu, wielding a short knife, pressed forward with the spear’s retreat.

Normally, in weapon clashes, “one inch longer, one inch stronger.”

But some martial arts were specifically designed for short weapons to counter long ones.

This man was one.

Li Lin retracted his spear swiftly, but the man’s lightness skill was exceptional—he closed in instantly.

His short knife slashed toward Li Lin’s right hand.

Li Lin retreated two steps—too late to thrust again—he swung the spear upright before him.

The knife struck the spear shaft; Li Lin then suddenly flipped backward, abandoning the spear, and kicked the shaft with his leg.

The spear whipped toward Qin Liu.

Qin Liu dodged the spinning spear, then grinned darkly at Li Lin’s bare hands.

But he didn’t expect Li Lin to suddenly fling a handful of paper figures—at least a dozen.

The pink paper figures landed and scampered forward, hopping and running, surrounding Qin Liu.

Terrified, Qin Liu retreated rapidly.

Who knew if these paper figures were some sinister occult technique?

Though the little paper figures moved slower than Qin Liu, they were relentless, chasing him without pause.

Frustrated beyond endurance, Qin Liu slashed his short knife, cutting all dozen paper figures into shreds—paper scraps flew everywhere.

So weak!

Then he looked ahead—Li Lin was gone.

Even the red-plumed spear lying on the roof had vanished.

Qin Liu glanced left and right—no sign of Li Lin. He immediately leapt toward a high eave nearby; only there could someone possibly hide.

He leapt over the eave—no one there. He landed on the roof, ready to search further.

Then a sharp pain pierced his right kidney—he screamed silently, eyes bulging, and looked down to see a short sword protruding from his lower right abdomen.

The agony stole his voice—he couldn’t even cry out.

He barely turned his head and saw Li Lin crouched behind the eave, smiling as he twisted the blade deeper.

There had been no one there just now!

Qin Liu staggered twice, his vision blurring, whispering: “Invisibility… technique!”

Then he collapsed onto the tiled roof.

Li Lin exhaled—he clearly lacked Qin Feng’s sharp instinct and sensitivity to killing intent.

Otherwise, the trouble would have been his own.

He’d been lucky.

He grabbed Qin Liu’s clothes and hurled him off the roof.

Qin Feng was currently overpowering Wang Tianyou and Ding Junhui—he saw a dark shape flying through the air and instinctively dodged.

Then he saw it: Qin Liu, eyes wide open, dead.

He immediately abandoned Wang Tianyou and Ding Junhui and leapt onto the roof.

“Coward! If you’ve got guts, show yourself!”

(End of Chapter)