Chapter 3

Ssssh—ssssh—ssssh—

After a few faint whistling cuts through the air, the alley fell into deathly silence.

The three formed a pincer formation, blocking the front, back, and above the alley.

Chen Yuan, dressed as a wandering Daoist priest, crouched on the eave, black-sheathed longsword in hand, gazing down at the young man in white robes in the alley:

"Who are you, sir?"

The Monk, who had crashed through the wall, spun a string of prayer beads, glancing at the black hawk circling overhead:

"Probably some rich brat with no sense. What do we do?"

They'd been hiding here, and suddenly got spotted by a lone young master—what else could they do?

Xie Jinhuan stood firm, hand on his weapon, facing three-sided encirclement; at first he was on high alert, but soon realized something was off.

He seemed to be cheating!

More precisely, his martial skill was absurdly high.

Fully focused, he could clearly hear the three men's breaths and Qi circulation, even discern their current states from the faint rustling of wind against their limbs and robes.

The Monk before him had steady breath, with an unusual Qi flowing within—likely a true monk who had cultivated Buddhist cultivation technique; his waist hung a money pouch, useful for replenishing travel funds…

The Daoist priest above was more alert: right leg bent, sword held horizontally across his body, seemingly casual but ready to leap backward and create distance; his lungs and organs were drawn taut, poised to strike…

The warrior behind was a weakling—gripping his blade too tightly, he couldn't control its release or retraction; right now he was searching for an opening to strike from behind…

Xie Jinhuan didn't know how he knew these things, but the situation was crystal clear.

He even knew killing these three would take no more than five seconds; one extra second would be weakness.

The only thing he possessed related to martial skill was a notebook of martial insights, titled "The Joyful Heart Sutra"; from the handwriting, it was clearly his own.

But he couldn't recall where he'd learned it—no mere notebook could grant him such seasoned combat experience.

Xie Jinhuan was filled with doubt; the situation was unclear, and he didn't want trouble—he gave them one last chance:

"I don't wish to commit needless slaughter. Drop your weapons, put your hands on your heads, and I'll spare your lives. Otherwise, the consequences are on you."

"Huh~"

The Monk let out a scoff.

Chen Yuan crouched on the roof, studying for a long while; he sensed Xie Jinhuan's martial skill was extraordinary, but couldn't discern his origin. After thinking, he said:

"In this world, one dies standing, never kneels to live. If you have such skill, then we three are just unlucky to have crossed paths."

His words ended, the alley fell silent, save for the rustling wind.

The warrior blocking the rear gripped his three-foot blade tightly, studying Xie Jinhuan's shoulders and footwork.

Noticing Xie Jinhuan left his back undefended, he seized a fleeting moment and suddenly stomped hard!

Clang—

In an instant, the blue bricks beneath his feet shattered, and a streak of silver flashed through the alley!

The blade-wielder lunged like a shuttle, dragging fierce wind in his wake, closing the distance to Xie Jinhuan's back in a heartbeat—the other two moved simultaneously!

But the three hadn't anticipated: the white-robed young master in the alley was far stronger than they'd imagined!

Whoosh~

At the very moment the warrior moved, Xie Jinhuan had already gripped the staff's handle—but didn't turn; instead, he stepped back and drew the staff in one fluid motion.

The warrior lunged forward, his single blade still unsheathed, when Xie Jinhuan suddenly reversed and crashed into his chest—the rounded butt of the staff struck like a cannonball straight to his heart!

Boom—

A muffled crack of blood and bone shattering!

The warrior froze mid-motion; his robe burst open, his back bulged outward, and a jet of blood shot from his nose and mouth!

The warrior was gone in an instant; the Monk ahead was chilled to the bone—he tried to halt, but it was too late!

Xie Jinhuan had never cared about the warrior behind him; as the thirty-six-section Heaven's Qi Staff was drawn, his left hand had already swept across its shaft.

Ssssh~

All his Qi surged into the staff, even producing a faint hum of gathering energy!

The Monk sensed an unstoppable, terrifying edge rushing toward him—he planted his feet, his chest swelled, and he roared:

"Zhà!"

Boom—

The next instant, Xie Jinhuan's left hand reached the staff's tip, his body following the staff as he lunged forward!

The Heaven's Qi Staff, wrapped in overwhelming Qi, whipped up grass and leaves into a peerless tornado!

The tornado pierced the dark alley, shattering walls, exploding tiles, and lifting every grain of dust from the ground!

The Monk stood directly in its path—like a mayfly facing a tidal dragon breaking the sea!

The gap was so vast the Monk couldn't even summon fear—he could only pour every ounce of Qi into his body; his exposed skin glowed faintly with golden light, transforming him into an unshakable, wrathful Vajra Guardian!

But against this strike capable of leveling cities and shaking mountains, his mortal flesh was no different from an ant.

Boom—

The staff pierced through flesh and bone—the Monk's chest exploded outright!

Blood and bone sprayed; his body was split clean in half, shoulders and head flying into the air!

Daoist Chen Yuan had just leapt from the eave, still mid-air, when he saw his companion's severed torso brush past his shoulder!

A terrifying shockwave, like a storm devouring dry grass, tore horizontally through the alley, cracking half its length, until it erupted in a spray of blood and dust at the alley's corner entrance!

Chen Yuan, high above, felt as if he'd leapt onto the back of a hundred-zhang demon dragon—his spirit trembled, his hair stood on end; he pushed off the wall with all his strength, rolling sideways, and as he fell, his left hand formed a seal—green light surged across his palm—and he landed with his sword plunged into the ground!

Sssshhh—

Green light streamed into the longsword, forming a lightning serpent as thick as a thumb, tearing through the ground toward Xie Jinhuan's feet!

But at that same moment, the white-robed young master who had shattered the demon monk turned back—and swung his staff sideways in a motion like "Furious Dragon's Tail Sweep," lashing toward the alley behind him!

Boom—

A thunderous crash echoed from the alley.

The already shattered bricks and stones were nearly all ripped upward, forming a wave of debris as wide as the alley, crashing down like a mountain tide, instantly severing the narrow passage into two sections!

Chen Yuan saw the entire ground before him roll toward him, his eyes frozen into blank stupor!

After all, judging by the sheer force of the attack, this young man had surely entered the rank of a fourth-rank martial cultivator, and might even have brushed against the threshold of Rank 3.

Fourth-rank masters in this world were always honored guests of noble houses; yet this man looked no older than twenty—how could this be…

Before absolute power, any countermeasure appeared absurd and laughable—there was no chance for counterattack!

Faced with a chasm-like gap in strength, Chen Yuan reacted like a startled chicken, dog, ox, or sheep, instinctively turning to flee backward.

But unfortunately, it was already too late.

Shhh—

Within the dusty alley, a piercing sword cry suddenly rang out!

The wall of bricks still mid-air was split open by a vortex of empty space!

At the very front of the vortex was a white-robed afterimage and a single glint of cold light!

Chen Yuan had barely heard the sound when the glint pierced through the alley, entering his back and exiting through his chest!

Puh—

Droplets of blood sprayed and splattered onto the ground.

Chen Yuan's steps halted abruptly; he looked down at the dark-green sword blade piercing through his chest, his eyes filled with utter disbelief.

"Four and a half seconds. I overestimated you three."

Xie Jinhuan stood behind, sword in hand, raising the Heaven's Qi Mallet as he spoke.

Pah~

The bandit monk's upper half fell first, crashing onto the eaves.

The money bag, flung away, hung perfectly atop the Heaven's Qi Mallet!

Xie Jinhuan did not use the Heaven's Qi Mallet to dismember Chen Yuan not out of mercy, but because killing him outright would be hard to explain—he needed to leave Chen Yuan alive as a gift for Inspector Yang.

Realizing his martial skill was absurdly high, Xie Jinhuan couldn't help but feel puzzled, asking:

"Those two moves just now—'Black Dragon Ramming the Pillar' and 'Furious Dragon Sweeping Tail'—are from the Silver Dragon Eight Styles. Have you heard of them?"

Chen Yuan stood frozen in place, face ashen, not daring to move a muscle, his eyes filled with shock and deep confusion.

Black Dragon Ramming the Pillar? I've never heard of it…

Lustful Dragon Eight Styles…

How could a sect take such a name…

Could this be someone from the demonic Daoists…

…

Before Chen Yuan could answer, the quiet green-stone alley suddenly erupted again with the sharp whistle of rushing air!

Sa—

Xie Jinhuan frowned, sensing this attack's power far exceeded the previous three; without hesitation, he swung the Heaven's Qi Mallet backward, striking the rapidly approaching blade…

…

A moment earlier.

Linghu Qingmo slipped in from outside the ward, and halfway there, he heard strange noises from the warehouse; then, half his body flew out from above the two-zhang-high warehouse, spraying blood droplets everywhere, while the alley below erupted in dust and blood mist!

Linghu Qingmo's spirit recoiled in shock—he knew a formidable enemy lurked in the alley, and instantly leapt over the warehouse wall.

What he saw was a white-robed figure driving a sword into the back of a Daoist!

Seeing his fellow Daoist slaughtered, Linghu Qingmo drew his sword without hesitation and charged forward to stop it—but he hadn't expected the white-robed bandit raging through the alley to be terrifyingly powerful; sensing danger, the man didn't even move his body, yet the cold-light mallet already slashed backward, instantly summoning a yellow dragon of swirling dust and shattered stones!

Boom—

Linghu Qingmo, his bones chilled with terror, instantly halted and retreated in flight—but the distance between them was already too close; the mallet's edge still grazed his chest.

Crack—

The elite armor issued by the Wang Fu offered truly formidable protection, but it was not indestructible.

The mallet's tip, bursting with explosive force, struck the dark-green breastplate, and the fish-scale-like plates instantly cracked!

The residual qi surged into his lungs and organs; Linghu Qingmo felt his chest violently shake, and his entire body was flung backward, crashing to the ground after flying several zhang, rolling over several times.

Bang, bang—

Whoosh…

As the figure slid to a stop, the alley fell utterly silent.

After his strike, Xie Jinhuan had already drawn the Zhenglun Sword, preparing to turn and deliver a finishing blow.

But as he looked down, he realized the man lying on the ground was a black-armored warrior.

Possessing armor without authorization was a grave crime; anyone daring to wear armor and roam the streets of Danyang City was either from the Jingzhao Garrison or the Dan Wang's personal guard—killing him equaled regicide, punishable by immediate beheading!

"What the—?"

Xie Jinhuan, who had remained utterly calm until now, was startled:

"Hey! Brother! Sorry, sorry! Don't die on me!"

Xie Jinhuan rushed forward urgently, trying to save him, but found the armor's quality was exceptionally fine—the breastplate was cracked but not shattered.

Still, the mallet was a breaker of armor; the internal injuries alone could shake a man to death—this one had fallen silent and clearly fainted.

Xie Jinhuan couldn't assess the injury through the armor; he was just trying to lift the faceplate to check his complexion when a thunderous roar came from afar:

"Audacious bandit! Release Lord Linghu!"

Chachacha…

The sound of a blade being drawn rang out.

Looking up, he saw five constables appear at the alley's mouth, holding official swords as if facing a great threat; behind them, two other officers fumbled to load their "Qi-Breaking Crossbows."

These scraps? Killing them would take no more than five seconds.

But Xie Jinhuan wasn't a bandit—he couldn't afford to kill constables, not even his father could save him—so he quickly dropped his weapon and raised both hands:

"Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding! We're on the same side!"

"Gukji!"

Meiqiu, who had already landed nearby, flapped her tiny wings in response.

Yang Dabiao, seeing Linghu Qingmo's life hanging by a thread, nearly lost his soul; he prepared to draw his sword and fight, for at least then he'd die a martyr and avoid being killed by the Princess and Mount Zihui.

Discovering that this formidable bandit had actually surrendered, Yang Dabiao froze in shock; wary of a trick, he roared loudly:

"Clasp your hands behind your head, turn your back, and squat down! Resist arrest and you'll be executed on the spot!"

This method was taught to his father by Xie Jinhuan, and his father had passed it on to the underlings.

Xie Jinhuan knew he'd messed up—he wouldn't dare resist arrest now—and he clasped his hands behind his head and squatted on the ground:

"Big Brother Yang, it's me, Xie Jinhuan, my father—"

"Bind him first! Send for a Physician!"

"Hey hey hey? We're all family, no need for this—"

……

(End of Chapter)