Chapter 394: A Clever Rescue of a Life Debt, the Lu Siblings of Wu County

A Ming steps on a ground soaked with fresh blood, walking closer step by step, the blood droplets on the cleaver slide down the blade, pattering onto the ground; each step feels like stepping on the leader's heart.

He is drenched in blood, the broken hair on his forehead stuck to his skin with blood, the blood spots on his face drip down along his jawline.

Only his eyes shine terrifyingly, swirling with lingering murderous intent and raging fury.

A Ming stops three steps away from the leader, leans slightly, stares dead at the leader's fear‑twisted face, his hoarse voice carries undeniable ferocity, asking word by word: "You were the one just now scheming against my older sister, weren't you?"

He has already formed his plan and must not let this scoundrel die a painless death…

He will gouge out this scoundrel's eyes, cut off his limbs, and make him suffer to death!

"No!"

The leader's legs go weak, and with a "thump" he collapses into the blood‑stained mud, clutching his head with both hands, his voice trembling like a sieve, crying and pleading: "Foolish big… little brother, it's all a misunderstanding!"

"Don't kill me!"

A Ming's gaze remains icy, unmoved, and he raises the cleaver in his hand.

"Ah!"

In the next instant, the leader's desperate pleas are abruptly cut off, his body shudders violently, then he lets out a heart‑rending scream.

But the one who moves is not A Ming; the cleaver has not yet swung…

The leader, incredulous, lowers his head and watches a Feather Arrow pierce his chest from behind, the arrowhead dripping blood straight out.

Immediately, his body falls heavily backward, completely silent.

A Ming's hand holding the cleaver pauses mid‑air, his brows knit tightly, he stares at the leader's corpse on the ground, confusion on his face, tilts his head, and mutters unintentionally: "What's going on?"

"How did he die?"

Saying that, he steps forward two paces, his gaze landing on the Feather Arrow lodged in the leader's chest, the feathered tail still trembling slightly.

He furrows his brows, gently nudges the arrow with the tip of the cleaver, his puzzlement deepening: "Where did that arrow come from?"

The sky gradually darkens, the lingering afterglow of the setting sun is swallowed by the hazy dusk, the blood‑stained ground on the slope glows with a dim light in the gloom.

At that moment, a clear and commanding shout rings out from the plateau: "Anyone who dares harm Da Zhou People shall be executed!"

"These reckless rebels, not a single one left!"

Following the voice, he looks up and sees Chen Yan standing at the top of the slope, deliberately imposing, his long bow pointed downward.

Before the words finish, a dozen or so militia have drawn their side‑arms and stride down the slope in heavy, synchronized steps.

The few remaining rebels, already terrified, lose any will to resist and scream as they scatter in panic.

Yet the militia, well‑trained and swift as leopards, quickly catch up with the seven or eight remaining bandits.

As blades flash up and down, cries of agony echo repeatedly.

After only a moment, the last few rebels collapse into the blood pool, lifeless.

A Ming grips the cleaver with both hands, holding it horizontally before him, the blood on the blade drips along its cold, hard curve.

His pupils contract slightly as he fixes his stare on the approaching Chen Yan, his whole body still tense, his face openly vigilant, his voice still hoarse and sharp: "Who are you people!"

His eyes are filled with lingering murderous intent and heavy guard.

Like a beast that has just finished a slaughter and has not yet relaxed its vigilance.

Instinct tells A Ming that these newcomers are stronger and harder to deal with than the ones before…

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Chen Yan stands three steps away, arms crossed over his chest, studying the blood‑soaked A Ming with interest, smiles lightly, and asks back.

"I'm the one who asked first!"

"Answer me!"

"Don't force me to act…"

A Ming's gaze locks onto Chen Yan, his knuckles whitened from gripping the hilt, the muscles on his arms bulge like iron blocks, even his breathing is barely audible.

The woman's eyes sweep over Chen Yan and the militia's uniformed dark‑colored battle robes, then notice the Court‑issued side‑arms hanging at their waists; her tense expression suddenly relaxes.

She steps forward quickly, places her hand on A Ming's wrist holding the blade, gently presses the blade down, and softly urges: "A Ming, put the knife down quickly!"

Seeing her brother still on high alert, she raises her voice, pointing to the battle robes on Chen Yan and explains: "They are Zhou State's official army!"

"They're not bad people!"

Saying that, she lightly pats A Ming's back of the hand, indicating he should lower his guard.

A Ming's hand still clutches the hilt tightly, the whiteness of his knuckles unchanged, the cleaver held before him does not lower at all.

He furrows his brows, his eyes like two cold rays locked on Chen Yan, his Adam's apple rolls once, his voice still tight and hoarse: "Sister, one must never be careless of others' hearts!"

He pauses, leans forward slightly, shielding his sister and brother further behind him, his gaze scans Chen Yan and the militia repeatedly, missing no subtle movement, stubbornly reminding: "You forgot that Liuren in Hezhou were forced by the authorities to rebel, didn't you?"

A Ming does not trust these people before him.

He only trusts the knife in his hand!

"Zhou State's official army?"

Chen Yan raises an eyebrow, catching the unusual phrasing in the woman's address, thinks briefly, and asks: "Miss, could you be from the southern Liang Kingdom?"

This young general looks youthful, his insight not lacking… The woman flinches slightly, then lifts her eyes to scrutinize Chen Yan—his battle robes make his figure upright, his features handsome and youthful, his gaze sharp yet gentle, earning her silent admiration.

Regaining composure, she gently pulls the still‑watchful A Ming, nods at Chen Yan, and calmly admits: "Indeed."

She pauses again, then continues: "My sister and I come from Jiangnan; due to certain events, we fled to your country…"

"…only to encounter these rebels again…"

Though the young woman dresses plainly, her bearing and speech are far from ordinary… Chen Yan also studies her, noting details, a slight smile forming, already forming a judgment.

Though unadorned, a faint dust on her forehead cannot hide her clear, otherworldly beauty; her brows like distant mountains tinged with ink, eyes like autumn water.

Especially her eyes, calm and bright, lacking the fear and humility of ordinary Liuren.

When she spoke earlier, her tone was composed, logical, and her gestures carried an unconscious dignified aura.

Especially when facing the militia, not a hint of timidity, proving she is no ordinary farmer's daughter.

He withdraws his gaze, his tone softens slightly: "I see."

"I, Chen, was sent by the Court to quell the rebellion; I will not harm you!"

Having said that, he turned sideways, signaling the surrounding militia to step back two paces, to show he meant no ill.

Chen Yan saw A Sheng's guard lower slightly, then looked at the woman and asked gently, "May I know how I should address you all?"

"A Xiong, how did you end up chatting with them?"

"Could it be that you have taken a liking to this woman?"

Yuwen Ze, standing beside him, witnessed the scene and couldn't help but murmur to himself.

But he quickly dismissed the thought…

If A Xiong truly had such a thought, he would have offered aid the moment it arose; he wouldn't be hesitating.

Perhaps it's the idea of that young man…

With that in mind, Yuwen Ze's gaze quietly fell on A Sheng.

The woman slightly bent her knee, bowed politely toward Chen Yan, and in a gentle yet clear voice said, "I am a humble lady of the Lu family, with the single given name Ning."

After speaking, she turned aside, grabbed the still‑guarded A Sheng, and introduced to Chen Yan, "This is my junior brother, Lu Ming!"

Then she turned her head toward the youth standing behind her, clutching her sleeve, and softly said, "This one is also my junior brother, Huan Jing!"

"Surname Lu?"

"From Jiangnan?"

Chen Yan, hearing the surname and recalling their background, furrowed his brow slightly, then blinked, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes, and asked cautiously, "Miss, could you be of the Lu clan of Wu County?"

From Lu Ning's demeanor and speech, one could tell she is a refined lady of a great aristocratic family…

And the bold, robust Lu Ming, when he kills, does so cleanly and efficiently; his techniques are naturally perfect, surely cultivated by someone.

Among the Lu great families of Jiangnan, there is only one such…

"It used to be…"

Lu Ning pressed her lips together, her mouth corners first twitching slightly, then she drew a faint bitter smile that spread from her eyes to her brows, yet carried no warmth.

It was more like a wilted lotus brushed by autumn wind, exuding an indescribable desolation.

"Not now!" she said, her voice a little lighter, tinged with a barely perceptible hoarseness.

At this point, she lifted her gaze toward the deepening dusk in the distance, her eyes vacant as if they could pierce through layers of night to the Jiangnan ancestral home thousands of miles away, and said, "My two younger brothers and I now have no fixed residence, drifting like aimless duckweed…"

"We don't even know where we'll go afterward…"

Her words paused, she shook her head lightly, the sigh as fine as a wisp.

The Lu clan of Wu County?

Lu Ning lifted her hand, tucked the wind‑tousled side‑burns behind her ear, revealing a soft profile that, because of the loneliness in her words, appeared especially thin.

"The Lu clan of Wu County must have suffered a great calamity…" Chen Yan took in Lu Ning's emotions fully, his mind stirring with speculation.

The identities of these siblings sharing the same surname could not possibly be low…

And the boy with the surname Huan beside them is most likely from the Huan clan of Qiao State!

Yuwen Ze stepped forward a few paces at the right moment, raising a warm smile, and calmly said, "A Xiong, this place is full of corpses; it's not appropriate to stand here and chat…"

He paused, then suggested, "Our camp's food is almost ready; why not invite them over to have something?"

Obviously, Comrade A Ze understood his own A Xiong's thoughts…

He deliberately offered assistance.

"Hmm."

Chen Yan exchanged a glance with Yuwen Ze, nodded, looked at the Lu siblings, and smiled, "You must be hungry as well, right?"

"It's getting dark; let's first go to our camp for a meal and warm our bodies…"

"Tomorrow the army will send people to escort you to safety!"

"Fine."

Lu Ning lifted her eyes to Chen Yan, her gaze sweeping the orderly militia around, thought briefly, then lightly nodded, "If that's the case, then I shall trouble the general."

"No!" Lu Ming immediately furrowed his brows, tightened his grip on his cleaver, and warnedly stared at Chen Yan and Yuwen Ze, "A Jie, how can we know if these people harbor ill intent?"

He stepped forward, blocking Lu Ning, his tone stubbornly unwavering, "We should head to Weizhou as soon as possible…"

Lu Ming didn't trust Chen Yan, especially that overly warm invitation…

He always felt something was off!

He must not let A Jie fall into danger!

Yuwen Ze, seeing this, let out a light hum, then pointed at Chen Yan and loudly declared, "My brother is the Duke of Wei of Great Zhou, Director of the Mingjing Office, Grand General of the Rapid Cavalry, commander of the armies and civil affairs of He, Wei, and Shan provinces; how could I harm your lives?"

"He… he is Lord Chen Yan?!"

Huan Jing's eyes widened suddenly, his vigilance instantly replaced by shock, and he exclaimed, "The Poet Immortal of Zhou State who subdued the Wang and Xie families with his poetry?!"

——

PS: Big brothers, today two chapters, 7,500 words, making up for the past two days,? (′? `?)

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