Chapter 118: Roadblock

As Zhao Ya’s words ended, pirates surged from all sides of the caravan, raising weapons and surrounding them completely.

A small sandstorm landed on the dune, revealing a towering figure; merely standing there, the ferocious aura radiating from him made everyone sense he was no ordinary man.

The newcomer was none other than the leader of these desert bandits, “Xiong.”

Upon seeing “Xiong,” Zhao Ya’s face darkened; though this was their first meeting, he had seen the man’s portrait before and recognized him at once.

“Leader Xiong, what is this about? Let’s talk reasonably—I assure you, there’s no conflict of interest between us.”

As the caravan leader, Zhao Ya stepped forward at this critical moment, spreading his hands in a gesture of goodwill, attempting to negotiate with Xiong.

Xiong let out a light laugh, crossed his arms, and tilted his chin up.

“You’re Zhao Ya? I’ve heard you’re quite famous in these parts—any desert bandit who encounters your caravan never attacks.”

Zhao Ya bowed slightly. “You flatter me. It’s all due to the respect of fellow travelers. I’ve long heard of Leader Xiong’s name, but heard you operate on a grand scale, so I feared approaching you might backfire.”

“Now that we’ve met, let’s become friends.”

“Should you ever need anything in the future, just say the word—anything I can do, I won’t refuse.”

Xiong grinned, rubbing his thick beard. “You’re a true old hand—your words are polished indeed.”

Then his tone turned cold. “But don’t try that crap on me today—I’m not just here to seize your goods; everyone here dies.”

At these words, the surrounding bandits let out wild howls, their eyes fixed on the caravan members like they were already corpses.

Instantly, the camel caravan’s people grew uneasy.

Had Zhao Ya not warned them beforehand, and had they not been completely surrounded by bandits, they would have scattered immediately.

Lu Fang was certain of this. He assessed the situation and said, “The battle’s about to break out—Sister Si, it’ll be up to you then.”

Zhou Yiyi lay on a soft carpet, chewing on dried beast meat. Hearing this, he reached out, plucked a strip of meat as thick as a thumb, and vanished from sight.

In Lu Fang’s ear, Zhou Yiyi’s voice echoed: “Leave it to me.”

Lu Fang smiled and stepped down from the carriage. From behind the curtain, he had already noticed that both the bandits and the caravan members had eyes fixed on this spot.

Even behind the caravan, a scar-faced man and a bald giant had approached with hostile expressions.

Ahead, the caravan leader Zhao Ya was still desperately trying to persuade the bandit leader “Xiong,” while these caravan traitors could no longer contain themselves.

In their eyes, since a major battle was inevitable anyway, there was no need to pretend anymore.

After all, both men were Seventh Rank, Third Stage, while Lu Fang was merely a Seventh Rank, Third Stage Confucian scholar—no matter how you looked at it, the two of them together could easily eliminate Lu Fang.

Earlier, the scar-faced man and the bald giant had already eyed Lu Fang as easy prey; now that an opportunity had finally come, why wait?

The scar-faced man sneered as he strode forward; without warning, they lunged at Lu Fang—but halfway through their charge, they froze abruptly, as if two massive mountains had suddenly crashed onto them.

Boom!

They were crushed to the ground, air thick as syrup, breath burning, bones in chest and body cracking like dry twigs.

The scar-faced man and the bald giant likely hadn’t even registered what happened before their pupils dimmed—this bizarre scene startled everyone who witnessed it.

A commotion erupted in the rear of the caravan, drawing the attention of Xiong and Zhao Ya. Once they understood what had occurred, Xiong’s eyes turned blood-red. He glared coldly at Zhao Ya. “Who among you is Fang Lu?”

Zhao Ya was baffled. “There is indeed such a person in the caravan. Why do you ask?”

Xiong roared in fury. "Bring me that Fang Lu—I will kill this murderer who took my brother's life with my own hands!"

Done for!

Fang Lu had killed the bandit leader’s younger brother!

Zhao Ya’s last hope of negotiation vanished at this news; he was filled with regret. Had he known, he never would have allowed Fang Lu and the other three to join the caravan.

These desert bandits had come looking for trouble to begin with.

Zhao Ya thought he could handle the situation—but now that they’d killed the man’s brother, he was certain Xiong would blame the entire caravan.

In an instant, a thousand thoughts raced through his mind.

Around them, silence fell as Xiong’s roar echoed.

“You want to kill me?”

A mocking voice rang out.

All eyes turned toward the sound. A young man in Confucian robes, smiling calmly, walked steadily toward the front of the caravan, utterly unafraid.

“You’re Fang Lu?”

If looks could kill, Xiong would have slain Lu Fang countless times already.

“I am.” Lu Fang stopped a short distance from Xiong, meeting the bandit leader’s gaze directly, expression calm, not a trace of fear.

Xiong snorted, appearing before Lu Fang in an instant, swinging his fist toward his head.

Though Xiong was massive, his speed was astonishing.

To everyone’s eyes, in the blink of an eye, Xiong’s fist was about to crush Lu Fang’s skull.

At that moment, everyone held their breath, imagining how, seconds later, Lu Fang’s head would burst like a watermelon.

Boom!

To everyone’s shock, Lu Fang stood motionless—while the attacking bandit leader “Xiong” collapsed to the ground as if struck by lightning, his body limp.

Lu Fang smiled faintly. “Too many have wanted my life. Yet here I am, still alive.”

Seeing the turn of events, the surrounding bandits, after a moment of panic, turned and fled in all directions. One who could kill Xiong without lifting a finger—these rabble were no match for him.

Moreover, Lu Fang’s calm demeanor only fueled their wild imaginations.

“Is Xiong dead?”

Zhao Ya was stunned.

Lu Fang, expressionless, retrieved Xiong’s storage bag, flicked a finger, and ignited a flame that consumed the corpse. “The man is dead. The bandits have fled. Leader Zhao, continue onward.”

Only then did Zhao Ya snap out of his shock, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Young Master Fang—had you not intervened, the entire caravan would have been wiped out.”

After Lu Fang returned to his carriage.

Zhao Ya swallowed hard and asked Bennett beside him: “This Young Master Fang must be of great stature—his personal guard killed a bandit leader without anyone noticing. He’s surely a high-rank cultivator.”