Chapter 1532: [Just Be Safe] (Part 1)

Hu Xiaotian killed Yang Dao yuan with one blow, not finished yet; taking advantage of the enemy warriors not yet swarming, he quickly stripped the fellow's treasure armor, grabbed Yang Dao yuan's head, and leapt onto the flying owl's back.

The flying owl let out a domineering cry as it carried Hu Xiaotian, then suddenly surged upward.

Below, hundreds of rushing warriors aimed and shot at the airborne figure; the flying owl flapped its wings to deflect, sending many arrows back into the enemy camp, where shrill cries rang out continuously—over ten warriors were struck by the rebounding arrowheads. By the time they organized a second volley, Hu Xiaotian and the flying owl had vanished into the night sky, their speed astonishing.

Hu Xiaotian held Yang Dao yuan's head aloft; in the moonlight he saw it clearly and couldn't help laughing loudly.

The flying owl also hooted repeatedly, seemingly matching his laughter. Hu Xiaotian frowned and said, 'Brother Owl, your voice is rather uncouth; don't scare children in the middle of the night, and even frightening plants is not good.'

The flying owl's body suddenly sank, startling Hu Xiaotian to clamp his legs tight; this creature was getting smarter, seemingly able to fully understand his words. Hu Xiaotian glanced at the gold armor stripped from Yang Dao yuan's corpse—fine stuff. Though he already had inner armor made of Seven-Star Sea Serpent skin, he had many beloveds and the armor wasn't enough to go around; he planned to give this set to Huo Shengnan, who commanded troops daily and sometimes had to fight on the front lines, needing armor for protection. Speaking of today's assassination of Yang Dao yuan, it owed much to the flying owl's timely appearance; Yang Dao yuan was so crafty he almost slipped from under Hu Xiaotian's eyelids, but now Hu Xiaotian could determine that Yang Dao yuan was a Sword Palace disciple, though he didn't know how he became the governor of Harmony Prefecture.

Hu Xiaotian directed the flying owl toward the outer camp, still bearing the heavy responsibility of assassinating Zhang Ziqian.

From high above, he could see the granary fire growing larger. Knowing the Beggar Sect brothers had already succeeded, Hu Xiaotian's mood brightened; now only Zhang Ziqian's head remained, and today's assassination plan would be perfectly fulfilled.

With the flying owl's help, distance was no obstacle; from Yang Dao yuan's headquarters to Zhang Ziqian's tent they arrived in an instant. Before finding Zhang Ziqian's main tent, he was drawn to a skirmish on a small hill below.

When Hu Xiaotian reached the hilltop, he was startled to see seven masked swordsmen surrounding two people, one of whom was Zhang Ziqian. This scene bewildered him, as his assassination plan had not arranged any outside help—killing Zhang Ziqian was his own duty, yet it seemed someone else also wanted him dead.

But Hu Xiaotian quickly noticed that the seven men advanced and retreated in perfect coordination, their cooperation flawless, attacking and defending like flowing clouds and water—clearly a Sword Palace sword formation. The two men they surrounded: one had decent skill, but having to face the formation while protecting the man behind him, he was already showing signs of defeat when Hu Xiaotian arrived.

Hu Xiaotian saw clearly that the protected man was Zhang Ziqian, who bore multiple sword wounds, blood streaming, with a dagger sunk deep into his chest to the hilt.

The one protecting Zhang Ziqian was his adopted son Yan Huacheng, also wounded in several places; they had left the tent after hearing the granary was on fire to observe the blaze, accompanied only by four warriors, yet upon reaching this hill they encountered assassins; all four attendants were slain. The seven assassins' swordsmanship was superb, and their sword formation wielded tremendous power; Yan Huacheng could find no way to break it, trapped and in peril.

Besides these seven assassins, a one-armed assassin stood afar, coldly observing—this was Feng Xianlin, who had led the Seven Killers to carry out the assassination; seeing the situation, he deemed no personal action needed and simply stood by with arms crossed.

Zhang Ziqian's breath was feeble; seeing Yan Huacheng still refusing to abandon him, he cried out tragically, 'Huacheng, hurry… go… you don't need to mind me…'

Yan Huacheng's eyes reddened, he gritted his teeth and roared, 'I won't leave; even if I die, I will die alongside my adoptive father!' This hill was some distance from the camp; most soldiers had gone to the granary fire, the remaining garrison watched the blaze, and no one noticed the assassination unfolding here.

Feng Xianlin shook his head, slowly drew his one-armed sword, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to Yan Huacheng; but at that moment he felt an inexplicable fear, jerked his head back—just this alone showed his cultivation was inferior to Yang Dao yuan's.

Even Yang Dao yuan, with such cultivation, had died by Hu Xiaotian's hand; how much more so Feng Xianlin, who had already lost an arm to Hu Xiaotian in the past.

Hu Xiaotian actually appeared before Feng Xianlin in his original appearance; seeing him approach, Feng Xianlin's soul fled in terror. Hu Xiaotian coldly said, 'I'll give you a gift!' He tossed Yang Dao yuan's head toward Feng Xianlin, who took it for a hidden weapon and swung his sword to block. One strike split the head, revealing it was indeed Yang Dao yuan's; Feng Xianlin hadn't even seen clearly.

Hu Xiaotian had already cleaved it in two with a single stroke.

Feng Xianlin raised his sword to parry; although Hu Xiaotian's blow did not emit blade aura, his full-force swing plus the wind-cutting edge produced a clang! —his sword snapped in two, the blade slashing straight across his forehead and cleaving his body in half.

After slaying his foe, Hu Xiaotian didn't pause, charging straight at the sword formation; his second slash swept out, a piercing blade aura shooting straight at the assassins' line; two dodged too late and were cut in half at the waist.

Yan Huacheng, bolstered by the aid, felt his pressure greatly reduce; he summoned divine might and thrust his blade into the chest of an opposing assassin, the tip piercing through.

Seeing reinforcements arrive, the remaining assassins panicked and turned to flee; Hu Xiaotian did not pursue. He saw Yan Huacheng cradle Zhang Ziqian, who had collapsed in a pool of blood, crying, 'Adoptive father… adoptive father…'

Zhang Ziqian's mouth opened and closed as if trying to speak, but no sound came; his finger pointed at Hu Xiaotian.

Yan Huacheng gazed at Hu Xiaotian with tears; Hu Xiaotian slowly approached Zhang Ziqian, knelt, took his hand, examined his wounds, and found the dagger had pierced his heart—too much time had passed, too much blood lost; even with a full set of surgical equipment he likely could not be saved. Just then a groan came from behind—the assassin Yan Huacheng had stabbed was not yet dead. Yan Huacheng flew into a rage, rose, went to that assassin, drew his steel blade, and stabbed him again.

Hu Xiaotian said, 'What did Mister Zhang wish to say?'

In his dying moments Zhang Ziqian could not tell who was speaking, still thinking it was Yan Huacheng by his side, and in a weak voice said, 'Kill… Hu Xiaotian…'

Hu Xiaotian's lingering pity for him vanished instantly; this old thing, even on his deathbed still wanted to kill him—truly loyal to Li Tianheng, fortunately Yan Huacheng didn't hear those words.

Yan Huacheng had just run off to kill someone, missing that line; when he returned Zhang Ziqian was already dead. Zhang Ziqian was his adoptive father; Yan Huacheng had lost his parents young and survived only thanks to Zhang Ziqian's care, growing into adulthood. Seeing his adoptive father dead, he was overcome with grief and wailed loudly.

Hu Xiaotian advised, 'You shouldn't grieve too much.'

Yan Huacheng then realized Hu Xiaotian was still there; he suddenly turned his head, raised his blood‑stained steel blade and demanded, 'Who are you? What are you doing here?'

Hu Xiaotian replied, 'I came to save you; Mister Zhang is my old friend, I hold him in great esteem. You are Yan Huacheng, and Mister Zhang told me before he died: "A wise bird chooses its tree; Xichuan's fate is exhausted—choose another wise ruler soon."'

"Who are you?"

Hu Xiaotian turned and walked a few steps toward the distance when a large bird swooped down before him; he leapt onto the flying owl's back, the owl carrying him into the night sky, and Hu Xiaotian shouted loudly, 'Hu Xiaotian! We will surely meet again.'

"Hu Xiaotian?" Yan Huacheng murmured, watching Hu Xiaotian become a black dot in the night sky; his face filled with admiration, for Hu Xiaotian appeared and disappeared mysteriously and was highly skilled in martial arts—if not for his help tonight, Yan Huacheng would likely have died at the assassins' hands. Seeing the corpses and heads scattered, he recognized Yang Dao yuan and Feng Xianlin, realizing this assassination must have been their plot; but now the mastermind is dead, there is no need for revenge.

Troops arriving from below heard the commotion and came up to inspect; Yan Huacheng steadied his grief—the commander was dead, the supervisor was dead, the granary had been burned, the campaign had failed before success, and now there was no point in talking about attacking Redwood River.

At that moment another soldier came to report: 'General, the camp of Qingyun County has been attacked by bandits.'

Yan Huacheng nodded, gradually calming; the urgent task was to steady the troops' morale—this battle could not be fought, he must hurry to Xizhou to report the situation to Li Tianheng.

Hu Xiaotian arrived at the rendezvous point; Xia Zhangming and Long Xi Yue were already waiting there. Seeing Hu Xiaotian return safely, Long Xi Yue could not restrain her joy, quickly ran over, dropped her reserve and threw herself into Hu Xiaotian's embrace.

Hu Xiaotian felt Long Xi Yue's delicate body trembling; guessing she worried too much about him, he whispered, 'Xi Yue, I promise you—I will never take such risks again.'

Long Xi Yue nodded, tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and softly said, 'Even if you go, I will go with you.'

Xia Zhangming had already turned away; such a scene was best avoided. His heart involuntarily recalled Zeng Xiaorou, a wave of gloom—why still think of that woman? She is not worth thinking about, yet forgetting someone is not easy, especially when she was once his beloved. Xia Zhangming gazed at the bright moon in the sky and secretly thought: No matter where you are, I do not wish to see you again—just be safe. (To be continued~^~)