Chapter 24: with translation of chapter title

In the bluish sky, the red sun still hangs high; inside Yujing City, carriages, horses, and pedestrians flow without cease, everything is so harmonious; on the streets and alleys north of Yujing City, in front of the largest Ju Bao Zhai, a youth in black-and-white clothing is lowering his head to look at the map in his hand, and this youth is naturally Zhou Shuo.

Zhou Shuo carefully examines the map in his hand, with Yujing City as the center, east is Yan State, west is Rong State, north is Xue State, and south is Zhong State; he intends to pass through Zhong State to go to Nan State, then borrow a ship to sail to the Giant Whale Island in Mi Hun Bay; as of now, he cannot find the foxes hidden in the Western Mountains, and can only hope to obtain that one-third of the Present Tathagata Sutra.

"Ignore me, best to ignore me." Zhou Shuo lifts his head to look at the clear sky, makes a wish, then turns and follows the crowd into Yujing City's Zhengyang Avenue, goes to the horse market to buy a fine horse, then takes up bow and sword, mounts the horse and leaves Yujing.

After leaving Yujing City, Zhou Shuo follows the map's indications and begins to gallop along the official road; at every place he must first ask people for directions—this is a genuine feudal era; even though there are martial arts and Daoist techniques comparable to science, it is ultimately a backward age, lacking electronic maps, and there are no signs on the road; a moment's carelessness will cause him to overshoot.

Zhou Shuo gallops on horseback all the way, passing over a dozen provinces of Zhong State in just a few days; as the name suggests, Zhong State is the center of the Great Qian Continent, with thirteen provinces; it was once the flourishing Buddhist-source martial arts holy land of the continent, famed as the Great Chan Temple where running horses light lamps, located on Mount Taishi in Taikang Province of Zhong State; Zhou Shuo knows there are also good things hidden there, but unfortunately he cannot go there.

The Great Chan Temple, thirty years ago, was ordered destroyed by the Great Qian court; the martial arts holy land fell in an instant; many secret manuals were either confiscated in raids or spread abroad; among them, the Past Amitabha Sutra that brought wealth to Hong Yi is one of the temple's three supreme sutras; the Present Tathagata Sutra that Zhou Shuo now seeks by sailing to Nan State is a martial scripture, but unfortunately only one-third remains, and it is still hidden among a band of pirates; however, given his ability, he should be able to seize it back.

Zhou Shuo rushes along the way, first because the matter of the Crimson Silk cannot be delayed too long, second because he fears He Wu Sheng will pursue and kill him; he dares not stop in towns along the road, keeping bow and sword at hand at all times, only resting in modern times when fatigued; although he is careful all the way, people always have moments of relaxation.

Huang Liang Ancient Town, located at the junction of Zhong State and the seven southern provinces, is famed for its abundant production of Huang Liang rice, bearing the reputation "Under heaven's rice, the south is supreme; among southern rice, Huang Liang is the best"; even the Hong Yi in the novel has eaten it, so as Zhou Shuo passes by, he cannot help but feel a longing, and he stops at the Huang Liang tavern to have a meal.

Hong Yi's praise is not mistaken; the Huang Liang rice is indeed delicious; Zhou Shuo, with simple side dishes, eats three large bowls in one sitting, drinks a small bowl of Huang Liang rice wine, and buys three large jars of Huang Liang rice wine for his collection; after eating his fill and drinking his fill, he rides away on the Precious Yellow Horse he bought, leaving Huang Liang Town.

Huang Liang Town lies beside the Yan River and is close to the Nan State ancient road; the Nan State ancient road leads straight to Shuiyang Province, and passing Shuiyang Province brings one to Linhai Province; Zhou Shuo rides his Precious Yellow Horse out of the town, feeling slightly tipsy yet perfectly clear-headed; gazing at the forest along the earthen road leading to the Nan State ancient road and the faint sky, he suddenly feels an urge to let himself go and sing loudly.

"What song should I sing!" Zhou Shuo sways his head and shakes his body, feeling the rising alcohol, pondering which song to sing.

"Jiji ji!" In the air, a flapping sound arises; birds startle from the forest and take flight; Zhou Shuo watches the startled birds taking off, and involuntarily recalls his own serpent-hawk avatar; that crossing gate seems to have the effect of isolating the soul and spirit, his thoughts can only stay with himself, and once he leaves that world they automatically vanish, so he currently has no heavenly eyes to use, which is somewhat inconvenient.

"Duang!" Just as Zhou Shuo's alcohol rises and he thinks about the lack of heavenly eyes being inconvenient, a sudden buzzing abnormal sound comes from the trees beside him.

"Hiss—roar!" The Precious Yellow Horse beneath him suddenly lets out a high-pitched neigh, its body shudders, its four hooves wobble, nearly throwing Zhou Shuo off its back.

"I've been attacked." When Zhou Shuo hears the buzzing abnormal sound, he becomes aware; upon lowering his head and seeing the feathered arrow embedded in the horse's neck, he instantly summons his internal true qi, simultaneously raising his hands to shield his head and face; at the moment his muscles bulge all over, he feels forces driving into his shoulders, waist, legs, etc., all from the feathered arrows shot from the side.

"Damn it." Zhou Shuo shields his head and face, gazing at the feathered arrows falling beneath him, feeling his face heat up and his mind clear; after a moment's thought, he clamps his legs around the already injured horse beneath him; the Precious Yellow Horse has already been struck by an arrow, and in an instant it extends its four hooves and gallops forward, letting several arrows fly wide.

"Chase, don't let him get away." As Zhou Shuo gallops forward, seven horses of various colors burst from the trees beside the road, spreading their hooves to pursue; each horse carries a rider in tight-fitting gear, each wielding a sword, spear, or staff; closely behind those seven horses are five archers on horseback.

"Damn it." Hearing the commotion behind him, Zhou Shuo curses involuntarily, reaches for the Jade Fetal Bow on his horse's back, pulls four long arrows from the quiver, twists his waist into an odd angle, turns back, and rapidly fires a volley at a sword-wielding rider behind him.

The rider behind, wielding a knife, hastily blocks two arrows, but then is struck square in the face by an arrow and falls from his horse; Zhou Shuo feels a surge of joy, yet before he can release the fourth feathered arrow, his body suddenly jerks, and the Precious Yellow Horse beneath him takes multiple arrows, now spent like a spent crossbow, its hooves buckling forward as it kneels.

As the Precious Yellow Horse kneels, Zhou Shuo quickly recoils, lifts his feet from the stirrups, pushes up with one hand on the saddle, and leaps off the horse's back in an instant, landing beside it; just as his foot touches the ground, the muscle in his shoulder tightens, and a feathered arrow detaches from his shoulder—he has already been hit by an arrow in this hurried moment.

"Hold fire, hold fire." Zhou Shuo catches the feathered arrow that fell from his shoulder, turns to look at the approaching people, nocks an arrow while shouting at the few riders coming from afar, but seeing they show no sign of stopping, he immediately releases the bowstring.

"Whoosh!" A feathered arrow intersects with four feathered arrows; an opposing rider clutches his shoulder and falls from his horse; Zhou Shuo steps back three paces, draws several feathered arrows from the quiver on the saddle of his mount bristling with arrows, then turns and looses three arrows in quick succession; three bowstring twangs sound, and immediately two opponents are struck and fall from their horses, while another hastily deflects the arrow with his weapon.

"Gallop!" The knight wielding an iron bar charges forward; Zhou Shuo releases his last feathered arrow, which strikes the knee of the opposing rider's blue horse beneath his crotch—shoot the person, first shoot the horse; taking advantage of the moment the horse collapses sideways, he snatches two feathered arrows thrown his way, nocks them and fires them back, then flicks his wrist to take down the steel-string whip from the saddle.

Zhou Shuo flicks his wrist, and a gleaming whip of twisted steel wire lashes out like a serpent from its hole, straight into the iron-bar rider scrambling up from the ground; the rider feels a chill before him, then his face swells, his whole body as if struck by a rolling log, flung wind‑like to the ground, where he lies motionless.

Having whipped away the close‑in rider, Zhou Shuo flicks his wrist again to knock down two feathered arrows, then watches as the assorted men—horses and wounded alike—scatter like a whirlwind; he finds it speechless that they flee so fast, yet it makes sense: their gear and weapons are mismatched, their martial skill neither high nor vicious, their movements uncoordinated—they are merely petty rabble.

"Damn it, scared the hell out of me." Zhou Shuo watches the fleeing men, and cannot help a wave of after‑fear; if his body weren't tough enough today, he'd likely lose his life here; it's a shame about his mount—though he's ridden it only a few days, he's grown a bit fond of it.

Zhou Shuo looks at the yellow horse that keeps twitching, its body bristling with multiple feathered arrows, already unable to live; he cannot help but sigh, draws his matching blade, and with one cut severs its neck; then he takes down the bow, arrows, and whip, turns to examine the wounded left behind—aside from the two dead, there are two arrow‑wounded survivors and three horses; the survivors are no hard nuts, a slight fright makes them spill the beans like spilled beans.

These riders are mere bandits; they want his head because half a year ago, the Wu Sheng Dao and the True Void Dao, through some unknown channel, circulated his portrait among the bandit strongholds of the Great Qian dynasty and issued a bounty: deliver his head, and you may exchange it with the Wu Sheng Dao and True Void Dao for a copy of the Eight Divisions Divine King Sutra.

"Damn it, Wu Sheng little sis smashes, you're really ruthless!"

Zhou Shuo hears the survivor's answer and cannot help but feel his scalp tingle; a Marrow‑Cleansing Secret Manual, worth no less than an enemy state's treasury, He Wu Sheng wants him to trade Hou Qingchen's head for this treasure, and now they are using that very treasure to put a bounty on his own head—those of the Supreme Upper Dao are truly extravagant!

"You lot of the Supreme Upper Dao are extravagant, while I, old master, am a poor wretch—if worse comes to worst, I'll just come at you! Let's see who fears whom; grandfather my martial skills and swordsmanship just need honing, Zhou Shuo's scalp tingles for a moment, looking at the two trembling bandits, his confidence rises unbidden—just you lot of trinkets, old master I fear nothing!"