Chapter 419: The Hongjiang Ferry Massacre: The Villain Reveals His Fanged Light

The large boat slowly pulled away from the shore and headed toward the opposite bank.

The sun sank westward, and night deepened.

The sky was poor tonight, thick dark clouds obscuring the heavens.

Without moonlight or starlight, the river water turned black, churning and roaring in the wind.

Gales whipped up waves that slammed hard against the hull, emitting dull, heavy crashes.

The dilapidated boat swayed violently like a fallen leaf amid the turbulent current.

Inside the cabin, a single lamp flickered.

Chen Guangrui lay dressed, Yin Wenjiao rested beside him, her brows slightly furrowed, sleeping uneasily.

Days of travel and the ship’s rocking had left this daughter of a prime minister utterly exhausted.

Outside the cabin, Liu Hong and Li Biao stood side by side, no lanterns lit, gazing at the rolling river in darkness.

Liu Hong turned his head, glanced at the closed wooden cabin door, and swallowed hard.

His mind flashed with the fleeting, breathtaking beauty of Yin Wenjiao’s face as she boarded the boat that day, and a lustful fire ignited in his eyes.

“Brother, move now?” Li Biao whispered, flipping his wrist as a bone-splitting dagger slid into his palm.

“Move.” Liu Hong exhaled a thick breath, drawing a thick-backed broadsword from his waist. “Be clean. Don’t make too much noise. Keep the girl alive. Kill the rest.”

The two moved silently, creeping closer to the cabin.

Outside the door, the coachman leaned against a wooden post, dozing. Days of travel had drained him; he slept deeply.

Li Biao lunged forward, his left hand shooting out to clamp tightly over the coachman’s mouth.

The coachman’s eyes snapped open, pupils dilating. Before he could struggle, Li Biao’s right-hand dagger slashed violently across his neck.

“Ssshh—”

The sound of blade cutting through flesh and trachea was swallowed by the river wind.

Hot blood gushed forth, splattering the broken cabin door. The coachman’s body convulsed violently, a gurgling “gurgle” escaping his throat, then two more spasms—soon he went limp, collapsing to the floor, lifeless.

Liu Hong stepped over the corpse, raised his foot, and kicked open the cabin door.

“Bang!”

The door burst open; gales laden with icy mist rushed in, causing the lone lamp inside to flicker wildly.

Two dark shadows, reeking of blood, squeezed into the narrow cabin.

“Ahh—!”

Yin Wenjiao jolted awake. By the dim cabin light, she saw the corpse at the doorway and let out a piercing, heart-wrenching scream.

“Shut up!”

Liu Hong strode in, gripping a nine-ringed bloody greatsword. He backhanded Yin Wenjiao across the face.

“Slap!”

Her fair cheek swelled instantly red. She was flung into the corner of the bed, dazed, clutching her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

“What are you doing?!”

Only now did Chen Guangrui react. Fury at his wife’s injury overcame his fear.

He leapt to his feet, spreading his arms to shield Yin Wenjiao completely behind him.

“What are you doing?”

Liu Hong sneered as he advanced, planting his sword point-first into the cabin floorboards.

“I’m borrowing the Top Graduate’s life.”

Chen Guangrui trembled but stood his ground: “I am an imperial official! Sent by the Emperor to serve as Department Magistrate of Jiangzhou! You’re murdering an official and rebelling—under Great Tang law, this merits extermination of nine clans!”

“Great Tang law?”

Liu Hong threw back his head and roared with laughter, the sound swallowed by the river wind and crashing waves outside.

He abruptly silenced his laugh, pointing his blade straight at Chen Guangrui’s nose.

“This Hongjiang is deep beyond measure—who’ll know you died here? I’ll kill you, take your official credentials, don your robe, and become the Department Magistrate of Jiangzhou. As for your beautiful wife…”

Liu Hong’s greedy gaze slipped past Chen Guangrui, locking onto Yin Wenjiao’s slender, alluring figure. He swallowed hard.

“I’ll keep her for myself. Top Graduate’s wife—I’ve never tasted what that’s like!”

“Wretched scoundrel!”

Chen Guangrui’s eyes burned with rage. He knew today was hopeless—a weak scholar against two bloodthirsty bandits had no chance.

Yet he did not beg. Chen Guangrui let out a roar and launched himself at Liu Hong, grabbing desperately for the greatsword.

“Die!”

Li Biao, standing nearby, snorted coldly. He blurred forward, kicking straight into Chen Guangrui’s chest.

“Thud!”

Chen Guangrui grunted, flying backward, crashing into the cabin wall before sliding to the floor.

He felt his organs displaced. He spat a mouthful of blood, staining his chest.

“Husband!” Yin Wenjiao rushed forward, clutching Chen Guangrui in her arms, weeping uncontrollably.

Above the clouds, the nine heavens’ Gangfeng howled fiercely.

The Golden-Headed Jieti and Silver-Headed Jieti hid deep within the clouds, their Buddhist auras swirling, repelling the gales entirely.

Their gazes pierced through clouds and water, witnessing every detail within the cabin below.

“Amitabha.” The Silver-Headed Jieti clasped his hands, eyelids half-lowered. “Jin Chanzi’s father has reached his death tribulation.”

The Golden-Headed Jieti’s face was expressionless, his eyes devoid of pity—only coldness.

“All is predestined.” His voice was calm, as if speaking of a trivial matter. “If he does not die, how can Jin Chanzi sever worldly ties? If Yin Wenjiao does not endure humiliation, how can she bear the Buddha’s child and cast him into the river, fulfilling the destiny of ‘River Child’?”

“Watch. Do not interfere. When he breathes his last, this tribulation is complete.”

The Buddhist grand plan allowed no error.

In their eyes, using Chen Guangrui’s life to advance the Journey to the West was his honor.

Inside the cabin, Liu Hong strode forward, seized Chen Guangrui’s hair, and yanked him violently from Yin Wenjiao’s arms.

“Soft-skinned scholar—next life, remember to learn some martial arts.”

Liu Hong planted his foot on Chen Guangrui’s chest, gripped the broadsword with both hands, and aimed the tip at his heart.

“No! Please spare him! I’ll give you all my gold and jewelry!” Yin Wenjiao knelt, pounding her forehead against the floor until blood welled.

“Hahahaha! Kill him, and the money’s mine—the woman’s mine too!”

Liu Hong laughed wildly, his eyes blazing with malice. His muscles bulged as he drove the blade downward with all his strength!

The blade tore through the air with a deathly whistle.

Chen Guangrui closed his eyes in despair.

In his mind flashed his mother’s face on her sickbed, his wife’s shy smile, and finally—the calm smile of the Daoist in his green robe at Pingkang Inn in Changancheng.

“Your fate holds a great life-or-death tribulation. Bloodshed is imminent. Ten deaths, no survival.”

“Keep this talisman close to your body. When the tribulation strikes, it will save your life.”

“Oh! I still have the Daoist’s talisman!”

Facing death, Chen Guangrui finally remembered the talisman sewn into his inner tunic.

“Daoist! Chen E is in dire peril—please save me!” he cried inwardly.

At that instant, Liu Hong’s blade pierced through Chen Guangrui’s blue outer robe.

In the final moment, a chaotic glow slowly spread from Chen Guangrui’s chest, instantly engulfing the entire cabin.