Chapter 337: After the War

Bai Lang had three women drive the cart with the old man inside, while he sat upright on the cart roof, placing his weapons to his left and right, continuously regulating his breath and nurturing Qi to treat his internal injuries—there was no better method, just take some Sanqi powder orally. As for the external wounds, Bai Lang's small silver knife, infused with true Qi, kept shaving away the charred flesh, smoothing the irregular cuts, using a sheep‑intestine thread soaked in strong liquor—no doubt, something like this existed a thousand years ago. He used that thread to stitch the wound, keeping the needle ready.

Bai Lang washed the wound with strong liquor, muttering that it would be even better with hydrogen peroxide, "That stuff is powerful and stimulating!" He sewed the wound himself with a needle, applied a hemostatic and tissue‑regenerating powder, then wrapped it with clean bandages. The broken bone was aligned and splinted by true Qi moving through his muscles. In short, long‑term injuries made him a good doctor; back in the Adventure Hall he was wounded many times and treated by Qin Lian'er, from which Bai Lang learned a few techniques.

Fortunately, his back was essentially uninjured, only a wound where a spear had pierced him, which Shang Xiuxun had already tended to early on, stitching it with the thickest sheep‑intestine thread—only to have Wei Zhenzhen do the actual work, as Shang Xiuxun and Shang Xiufang's sewing skills were poor. Even though Bai Lang's copper‑skin iron‑bone was damaged, ordinary knives still struggled to cut it. Moreover, his true Qi coursed through his body, and once the injury stabilized, his recovery was rapid.

The only problem was the need for sufficient nutrition. Fortunately, there was nothing else on the steppe, but cattle and sheep were abundant. The cart had its own stove and chimney, and after the three women roasted lamb inside the cart and handed it up, it fully supplied the fellow with nutrition. The Turkic army catching up? They could first deal with Bi Xuan's corpse… Bai Lang "killed" Bi Xuan, a move that dealt a massive blow to Turkic morale.

Thus, the act of pursuing Bai Lang left the chiefs in a dilemma—if they didn't chase, they couldn't swallow their pride and morale would be ruined, unable to rally; if they did chase, the man before them had already slain a Martial Respect and was a notorious war‑formation general famed for cutting down a thousand men. Failing to catch him would only allow him to kill a few hundred more—just a few hundred would be enough to drive morale into the negatives, making the loss even greater…

After weighing the options, they decided to give chase, thinking perhaps the man was gravely wounded after the life‑or‑death battle with the Martial Respect. Moreover, if they couldn't bring him down, they could simply retreat and later head to the Central Plains to fight in the Grass Valley a few more times, which would restore morale a bit—yet what about the future? The khans had already stopped pondering that. With their Grand Master lost on the steppe, the days ahead seemed bleak…

"What a pity my bow and arrow skills are truly lacking, and my Hidden Weapon Kung Fu is no good; otherwise I wouldn't have to come to this!" Bai Lang muttered. These Turkic pursuers were not large in number, their attacks merely probing. Ranging from a hundred to several hundred riders, the key was that there were still vigorous onlookers outside—essentially watching Bai Lang's condition, checking whether he was wounded, whether the injury would gradually render him unable to fight. Were these probes draining more of his strength and aggravating his wounds?

It's just like a pack of wolves.

Only humans are far colder than wolves, using the lives of their own kind as a test—and not one or two, but hundreds. These cavalry are quite well‑equipped—probing with inferior herdsmen riders would be meaningless. Their arms are complete; even from a modest distance they begin firing strong bows at Bai Lang, and hurling short spears at him and the cart using the momentum of their horses is commonplace. At this point, Bai Lang must retaliate with ferocious killing—otherwise, if the enemy believes they've glimpsed his true strength and weakness, they could surround him with thousands of riders in an instant.

Bai Lang didn't need a horse; he simply seized his Pu Dao—at this moment a light weapon conserves effort and is less likely to cause the wound to tear open. He grabbed the Pu Dao, leapt from the cart roof, his toe point propelling him several zhang, charging into the cavalry formation faster than a galloping horse. Usually he swings the Pu Dao in a wide circular slash, a single cut that typically cleaves four or five riders along with their warhorses simultaneously; even armor offers no protection.

The ensuing slaughter was casual; despite the bandages wrapped around him, Bai Lang remained impervious to blades and spears. After cutting down twenty to thirty percent of them, the remaining cavalry would mentally collapse and scatter—already a rare breed of elite troops. Moreover, whether facing a hundred or several hundred riders, Bai Lang's killing efficiency never waned, and if he attacked the cart… that damned cart was riddled with traps; getting close meant being shot by a crossbow, and the Grand Master Bai Lang would go berserk—his brutality and efficiency in killing leapt to another level.

At that moment Bai Lang would "whoosh" and fling his Pu Dao away; the blade would usually slash in a straight line, cutting down at least two or three people. He would then become like a towering tiger, spiraling into the crowd like a gale, his arms and legs acting as long spears and great axes, tearing apart any rider who couldn't flee, occasionally snatching a head and pulling it out… Such a murderous method was excessively brutal; no Grand Master kills in this way.

So they all fled, even the onlookers ran away, and no more cavalry came to harass. They were likely frightened as well; Bai Lang was unlike other Grand Masters—bathed in blood, clutching heads and dragging spinal bones, laughing wildly—a true hellish demon. The nickname "White Tiger Star Lord" was at least somewhat refined; "Star Lord" didn't fit, "White Tiger" did—actually calling him a White Tiger Ghost would be more appropriate.

So there was a reason Bai Lang spent most of his time being driven out to catch his breath; the scent of blood clung to him, and even washing in a river and changing into clean clothes made no difference. That aura of countless killings had seeped into his very bones; perhaps when he returns to his own world, his restored martial abilities will be able to suppress this blood‑soaked aura.

In the carriage, the old Lu Miaozi sniffed, "That's just the foul stench from a great beast; I think you're beyond saving, man." He was met with a rolling eye from Shang Xiuxun.

Bai Lang hadn't yet returned from the steppe, yet his name had already thundered across the world—undoubtedly the strongest Grand Master, perhaps the next to shatter the void. Among the three Grand Masters, none were certain they could defeat or kill another, so the Bai Lang who cleanly slew Bi Xuan was unquestionably number one in the world. Yet the news Bai Lang heard—indeed, the caravans traversing the steppe also served as message carriers.

The rumor Bai Lang heard was that Li Fa's Li Er had erupted… such is the so‑called soaring youth.

First, Wang Shichong and Li Mi fought a series of battles with no clear victor; Li Mi had many famous generals, but Wang Shichong fielded the elite county troops that Bai Lang once served with, so the fights were evenly matched. Then Li Fa, who held Chang'an, suddenly ordered Li Shimin to lead troops out; outside Luoyang City he won seven battles in a row, forcing Wang Shichong to retreat, and Li Shimin subsequently faced the reinforcing Dou Jiande and the opportunistic Li Mi… "Defeat them in a single battle? Is it really that exaggerated?"