Chapter 3: LET GO OF MASTER LINGHU!

Ssssh—

After a few faint whistling sounds, the alley fell into deathly silence.

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

Chen Yuan, dressed as a wandering Daoist, 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 as he glanced at the black hawk circling overhead:

“Probably some rich fool 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 breathing and even judge their current states from the faint rustling of fabric stirred by the breeze.

The monk before him had steady breath, with an unusual energy flowing within—likely a true Buddhist cultivator who’d trained in a Buddhist scripture, and he even had a money pouch at his waist, useful for expenses…

The Daoist above was more alert: his right leg bent in a half-crouch, sword held horizontally before him—seemingly casual, but ready to leap back and create distance, lungs drawn tight, energy poised to erupt…

The warrior behind was a weakling; his grip on the blade was too heavy, meaning he couldn’t control it well, and 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 he could kill all three in no more than five seconds—any longer would be feminine mercy.

The only thing he possessed related to martial skill was a notebook of cultivation notes, titled “The Joyful Heart Scripture”; from the handwriting, it was clearly his own.

But he couldn’t recall where he’d learned it—how could a mere notebook grant him such seasoned combat experience?

Filled with confusion and uncertain of his current situation, Xie Jinhuan didn’t want trouble—he gave them one chance:

“I don’t wish to commit needless slaughter. Drop your weapons, put your hands on your heads, and squat down—I’ll spare your lives. Otherwise, the consequences are on you.”

“Huh~”

The monk let out a derisive laugh.

Chen Yuan crouched on the eave, studying for a long while; he sensed Xie Jinhuan’s martial skill was extraordinary, but couldn’t discern his roots. After a moment, 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.”

With those words, the alley fell silent, save for the rustling wind.

The warrior blocking the rear gripped his three-foot blade tightly, watching Xie Jinhuan’s shoulders and footsteps.

Sensing no defense behind Xie Jinhuan, he seized a fleeting moment and suddenly stomped hard!

Clang—

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

The blade-wielder lunged like a shuttle, dragging a fierce wind behind him, closing the distance to Xie Jinhuan’s back in an instant—the other two moved simultaneously!

But the three hadn’t anticipated: the young man in white robes in the alley was far stronger than they’d imagined!

Whoosh~

At the very moment the warrior moved, Xie Jinhuan had already gripped the handle of his celestial iron staff—but he didn’t turn. Instead, he stepped back, drawing the staff in one fluid motion.

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

Boom—

A muffled crack of blood and bone shattering!

The warrior froze instantly; his robes 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 stop, but it was too late!

Xie Jinhuan had never cared about the warrior behind him; as he drew the thirty-six-section celestial iron staff, his left hand had already swept across its shaft.

Ssssh~

True qi surged into the staff, even producing a faint hum of gathering energy!

The monk sensed an unstoppable, terrifying blade 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 weapon as he lunged forward!

The celestial iron 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 all dust and sand from the ground!

The monk stood directly in the blade’s path—like a mayfly facing a raging dragon breaking the sea!

The gap was so vast, the monk had no time to feel fear—he could only pour every ounce of his energy into his body; his exposed skin glowed faintly golden, transforming him into an unshakable wrathful golden deity!

But against this blow 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 on impact!

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

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

A terrifying shockwave, like a storm tearing through dry grass, ripped horizontally through the alley, cracking half its length, until it erupted into a cloud of blood and dust at the alley’s corner.

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, his left hand forming a seal as blue light surged across his palm—he landed with his sword plunged into the ground!

Sssshhh—

Blue light flowed into the longsword, forming a lightning serpent as thick as a thumb, tearing through the ground toward Xie Jinhuan’s feet!

But at that moment, the white-robed young man who had shattered the demon monk turned around—his staff swept sideways like a “Furious Dragon’s Tail,” striking the alley behind him:

Boom—

A thunderous crash echoed through the alley.

The shattered bricks and stones were lifted entirely, forming a wall of debris as wide as the alley itself, crashing down like a tidal wave, instantly severing the narrow alley into two sections!

Chen Yuan saw the entire ground rushing toward him—his eyes went blank.

After all, from the sheer force of his attack, this young man must have reached the fourth-rank warrior level, possibly even touched the threshold of the third rank.

Fourth-rank masters in this world were honored guests of noble houses—he looked no older than twenty—how was this possible…

Before absolute power, any counterattack was absurd and laughable—there was no chance for one.

Facing a chasm of disparity, Chen Yuan reacted like a startled chicken or sheep—his instincts screamed to flee backward.

But unfortunately, it was too late.

Shhh—

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

The wave of flying bricks and stones was split open by a vortex of emptiness!

At the vortex’s tip: a white-robed afterimage and a single point of cold light!

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

Puff—

Drops of blood splattered onto the ground.

Chen Yuan’s steps halted. He looked down at the dark-blue sword piercing through his chest, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“Four and a half seconds. I overestimated you three.”

Xie Jinhuan stood behind, sword in hand, raising the celestial iron staff as he spoke.

Pah~

The monk’s severed torso landed first, crashing onto the eave.

The flying money pouch landed neatly atop the celestial iron staff.

He hadn’t used the celestial iron staff to dismember Chen Yuan—not out of mercy, but because killing them all would leave no one to explain things to Yang the Constable—he needed a live witness as a gift.

Realizing his martial skill was absurdly high, Xie Jinhuan couldn’t help but wonder:

“Those two moves—‘Black Dragon Ramming the Pillar’ and ‘Furious Dragon’s Tail’—are from the Eight Silver Dragon Forms. Have you heard of them?”

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

Black Dragon Ramming the Pillar? Never heard of it…

Lecherous Eight Forms…

How could any sect have such a name…

Could he be from some demonic Daoist sect…

…

Before Chen Yuan could answer, the quiet blue-stone alley suddenly rang again with sharp whistling!

Ssssh—

Xie Jinhuan frowned; this attack’s power far exceeded the previous three—he didn’t hesitate, swinging the staff backward to meet the incoming blade…

…

Moments earlier.

Linghu Qingmo crept from outside the neighborhood, and halfway there, heard strange noises from the warehouse—then half a body flew out from above the two-zhang-high warehouse, spraying blood everywhere, while blood and dust erupted from the alley below!

Linghu Qingmo’s spirit recoiled—he knew a powerful enemy lurked in the alley, and instantly leapt over the warehouse.

What he saw: a white-robed figure, sword plunged into the back of a Daoist!

Seeing his comrade slaughtered, Linghu Qingmo drew his sword and charged without hesitation—but the white-robed bandit raging in the alley was terrifyingly strong; sensing danger, he didn’t move, yet the cold iron staff flipped backward in an instant, unleashing a yellow dragon of dust and shattered stones!

BOOM—

Under a chilling dread, Linghu Qingmo instantly halted and retreated, but the distance was already too close—the mace’s edge still grazed his chest.

CRACK—

The finely crafted armor issued by the Dan Wang Mansion was indeed formidable in defense, but not invincible.

The explosive tip of the mace struck the dark green breastplate, and the fish-scale-like plates shattered instantly!

The residual qi surged into his lungs and organs; Linghu Qingmo felt his chest violently shake, and he was flung backward, skidding across several zhang before crashing to the ground, rolling several times.

THUD, THUD—

RUSTLE—

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

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

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

Possessing armor in private was a grave crime; anyone daring to roam the city of Danyang in full armor was either from the Jingzhao Garrison or the Dan Wang’s personal guards—killing one was equivalent to assassinating the emperor, punishable by immediate beheading!

“What the—?”

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

“Hey! Brother! Sorry, sorry! Don’t die on me!”

Xie Jinhuan rushed forward, trying to help, only to find the armor was of exceptional quality—the breastplate was cracked but not fully shattered.

But the mace was designed to breach armor; the internal injuries alone could shake a man to death—this one was clearly unconscious.

Xie Jinhuan couldn’t assess the injury through the armor, and was just trying to remove the faceplate to check his complexion when a thunderous roar came from afar:

“Audacious bandit! Release Commander Linghu!”

SCRITCH, SCRITCH, SCRITCH—

The sound of swords being drawn followed.

Looking up, he saw five government office runners appear at the alley’s mouth, holding official blades as if facing a deadly foe; behind them, two more constables fumbled to load “Qi-Breaking Crossbows.”

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

But Xie Jinhuan wasn’t a ruthless outlaw—he couldn’t afford to kill an officer; even his father couldn’t save him. He immediately dropped his weapon and raised both hands:

“Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding! We’re on the same side!”

“Gukji!”

Meiqiu, who had landed nearby, also raised her tiny wings.

Yang Dabiao, seeing Linghu Qingmo’s life hanging in the balance, nearly lost his soul—he was already preparing to draw his blade and fight, at least then he’d die a martyr and avoid being killed by the Princess or Zihui Mountain.

Seeing the ferocious bandit surrender, Yang Dabiao froze in shock; wary of a trick, he roared loudly:

“Clasp your hands behind your head, turn your back, squat down—resist arrest and you’ll be executed on the spot!”

This method was originally taught by Xie Jinhuan to his father, who then passed it on to the underlings.

Xie Jinhuan knew he’d messed up—he had no intention of resisting arrest. He clasped his hands behind his head and squatted on the ground:

“Brother Yang, it’s me—Xie Jinhuan. My father…”

“Bind him first! Send for a physician quickly…”

“Hey hey hey? We’re all family—no need for this…”

…

(End of Chapter)