Chapter 892: Figured It Out

But Wang Zhaojing suddenly shifted his footing, his body dropping low and curling up sharply, as if gathering all his strength through that contraction. In the next instant, his entire frame snapped open, power exploding outward as the narrow-bladed longsword in his hand thrust fiercely toward Xin Qitao's left ribs!

Xin Qitao hastily pulled back his movement. His sword's withdrawal looked flustered, but as it retreated, it sliced toward Wang Zhaojing's right wrist. This stroke seemed weak — even if it landed, the wound would be minor — yet a gap had opened in Xin Qitao's own guard. If he could trade blow for blow, perhaps this bout would be decided right then!

Wang Zhaojing was indeed willing to trade. Ignoring the blade sweeping toward his right wrist, he lunged forward in a bow stance, thrusting straight ahead once more!

Most men, knowing they are about to be wounded, will falter and hesitate in their movements. Yet this Wang Zhaojing was utterly resolute. Xin Qitao quickened his retreat, his blade merely grazing his opponent's wrist before the two pulled apart once again.

The sword edge was razor-sharp. As it swept across the wrist, Wang Zhaojing's sleeve was sliced open — but instead of drawing blood, it produced the sound of metal clashing against metal.

"This Xuzhou truly is a land that produces iron. Even a scholar like Brother Wang is clad in it from head to toe!" Xin Qitao leveled his sword before him and spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wang Zhaojing wore bracers on his wrists. Now he reached up and tore off his outer robe, revealing a suit of light armor beneath. Though not the full-body regulation armor, it still covered his vitals and joints.

"If I'd insisted on a scholar's decorum and rules tonight, Brother Xin would have killed me by now!" Wang Zhaojing crooked his arm and drew back the sword hilt, his body coiling low once more. Now the narrow-bladed longsword was the arrow, his body the bow, poised to spring forth at any moment!

Xin Qitao narrowed his eyes, his face full of contempt. He continued his mocking tone: "The sword is a gentleman's weapon, the noblest of all arms. It prizes grace and freedom. Yet Brother Wang wields it like some common warrior's spear or lance — a true disgrace to refinement."

"Grace and freedom — nothing more than slashing and chopping with flourish, wounding and bleeding the body's less vital parts. At first it seems harmless, but the bleeding weakens a man, the wounds hinder his movement, and then..." Wang Zhaojing offered his critique with an air of leisure, but before he finished speaking, he thrust fiercely at Xin Qitao!

After the opening probes and exchanges, the trick of using words to distract an opponent had become hard to pull off. Wang Zhaojing pounced forward, but Xin Qitao had already dodged in advance, even swinging his sword to counterattack. The two blades met. Xin Qitao had put eighty percent of his strength into this parrying counterstrike, yet he never expected Wang Zhaojing's sword to carry so little force. It was easily deflected, and Xin Qitao's own excessive effort threw him slightly off balance.

In swordsmanship, the key lies not in attack but in defense. The body must remain steady at all times; otherwise, one can neither generate power nor evade. Xin Qitao swayed and immediately tried to retreat, but he never imagined that while Wang Zhaojing's right-hand sword was so feint and hollow, his left hand was already swinging. A whistling sound could be heard. Sensing danger by instinct, Xin Qitao tried to move again, but it was too late — something sharp pierced deep into his thigh, and searing pain shot to his very core.

No matter how prepared one was, at a moment like this, a stumble was unavoidable. Wang Zhaojing now gripped his sword with both hands, exhaled with a shout, and thrust straight forward once more.

The two dueled at sword's length, mere feet apart. A momentary freeze in movement was all it took. Wang Zhaojing now unleashed his full power. Xin Qitao knew he could not evade. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he thrust his own longsword at his opponent. At this juncture, all he sought was mutual destruction.

With a clang, Xin Qitao's sword struck Wang Zhaojing's chest plate and glanced off it, while Wang Zhaojing's blade drove straight into his chest.

The blade entered his body, and with a twist of the wrist, Xin Qitao's strength drained away. His longsword slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground. Wang Zhaojing stepped back and withdrew his sword. Candidate Xin could no longer stand and slumped straight to the ground.

Sitting there, Xin Qitao propped himself up with his hands and stared coldly at Wang Zhaojing. He opened his mouth to speak, but blood poured out instead. Xin Qitao gave a bitter smile, wiped his mouth with his hand, and said in a voice growing hoarser by the word: "Degenerate of refinement. In a fair and honorable duel of swords, you resorted to a hidden weapon and a sneak attack."

Wang Zhaojing said nothing. He simply walked up to Xin Qitao, raised his sword, and swept it down. A flash of cold light — Xin Qitao's throat was half-severed, blood spraying out. Xin Qitao reached up as if to staunch it, but his arms stopped halfway and he toppled stiffly backward onto the ground.

The household guards watching from the courtyard had wanted to intervene and help several times, but could never find an opening. Nor had they imagined it would end like this. Now Wang Zhaojing was spattered all over with fresh blood, his face dotted with crimson. All trace of his usual refined elegance was gone. In the firelight, he looked almost ferocious.

"What use are fine, high-sounding words? The sword is for killing. If it kills you, then that is fair and honorable." Wang Zhaojing spoke coldly, then wiped the blood from his blade on Candidate Xin's body.

From not far away, the sounds of shouting and killing could already be heard.

On the battlefield, the charge of long spears and great halberds is the most ferocious — an advance that brooks no retreat. The bandits who had just burst from the household guard ranks had no time to adjust their stances before they met Zhao Jin's long halberd head-on.

The man at the very front was impaled through the chest by the halberd. His companion beside him reacted quickly, already crouching to close in. Zhao Jin swung both arms, pulled the halberd free, and swept it violently to one side. The axe blade on the halberd hacked hard into the man's back. With a terrible scream, he was cut down to the ground. Zhao Jin retreated a step, swung his arms again, and the iron awl on the halberd stabbed into the arm of another bandit on the other side. Before he could follow up, a throwing axe came whistling through the air and struck the man square in the face.

"You've only got five throwing axes in total — use them sparingly!" Zhao Jin shouted with a laugh. But Niu Jinbao over there did not stop; two more throwing axes flew from his hands. At this range, within twenty paces, they were devastatingly lethal — and the enemy, having just burst out, had no time to dodge anyway.

After that, however, the night raiders could advance no further. The front rank of household guards had already turned around, and the men behind Zhao Jin were pushing forward as well. Long spears flanked them on both sides — they were already caught in a pincer.

In the distance, the rumbling of hooves and battle cries had also risen. The cavalry unit and the personal guard were already closing in. Zhao Jin slowly withdrew into the formation and spoke: "Take prisoners if you can; kill if you must!"

The household guards roared their assent. Just then, several startled cries rang out from the residence where Zhao Jin lived. Zhao Jin, who had just begun to relax, felt his heart seize. Ignoring the night raiders who were now trapped like turtles in a jar, he directly summoned a squad of household guards and charged into his own courtyard.

"Master, the brigand has already been slain." Entering the courtyard, he heard Sun Dalin's report. There was only one corpse on the ground — someone who must have climbed the wall in the chaos. With the tight security all around, infiltrating this place was exceedingly difficult. Only then did Zhao Jin breathe a sigh of relief.

Screams were already rising from the street outside the courtyard. The thunder of hooves drew near. Before long, Ji Xiang's panicked voice rang out: "Big Brother, is everything all right on your end?"

"All fine. Split the personal guard in two — half to sweep through He Family Village, half to the encampments of those newly arrived merchants. Don't let a single one escape!" Zhao Jin said through gritted teeth.

Ji Xiang pushed open the courtyard gate and glanced at Zhao Jin. Only after confirming he was unharmed did he accept the order and leave. Zhao Jin did not rush to let his wife and children out of the cellar. Instead, together with his personal guards, he meticulously searched his own residence. Only after confirming there were no enemies did he set his mind at ease.

By now, the personal guard had already arrived, and the militia stationed in He Family Village had been mobilized. There was no longer any need to worry about the safety of Zhao Jin's dwelling. Yet the expressions on the faces of the personal guard, from officers to men, were grim. The chaos erupting in the middle of the night, the raiders breaking through to Zhao Jin's private residence — none of that truly mattered. In formation combat, how could jianghu martial artists possibly defeat household guards? But no one had expected household guards to suddenly turn on each other. Though it had caused no major harm, they had still charged right up to Zhao Jin. An investigation would certainly follow.

Even after the inspection was complete and he was reassured, Zhao Jin still did not let his wife and children emerge from the cellar. He simply told them to rest easy down below. The underground shelter had been built comfortably enough back in the day; there was no sense of stuffiness or the like down there.

After the cavalry entered He Family Village, they swept through street after street, and reports came back swiftly. Wang Zhaojing, escorted by household guards, also arrived at Zhao Jin's side.

Only then did Zhao Jin learn how crucial the squad he had dispatched had been. A dozen or so of the night raiders had specifically targeted Wang Zhaojing, but they ran straight into the reinforcements. In single combat, these night raid death warriors were indeed formidable, but the streets were narrow. The household guards used a crude method — they simply advanced in a line and pushed forward. Yet that very approach left the enemy helpless. When the raiders tried to scale the walls and circle around, the long spears chased after them from behind. The stalemate did not last long before the cavalry arrived. Caught in a pincer and surrounded, not a single one escaped.

Without that squad, the six household guards Wang Zhaojing had temporarily summoned would never have been able to stop the death warriors' assault.

"Your little brother here is rather proud. Though I dare not assert it before the truth is fully investigated, it seems this time they were targeting me specifically. That Xin Qitao was a death warrior the capital invested heavily in." Wang Zhaojing had not yet wiped the bloodstains from his face, and he looked quite self-satisfied.

"You nearly lost your life, and you're still in the mood for jokes." Zhao Jin was in no good humor. Though tonight could be counted as a false alarm without real danger, a single misstep could have led to catastrophe.

"Big Brother, I've figured it out. Those scholar-gentry won't walk this road with us." Wang Zhaojing said in a muffled voice.

Zhao Jin, sitting there, smiled and asked, "Oh? Figured it out?"

"Figured it out!" Wang Zhaojing answered with absolute finality.

That night, after a brief commotion, He Family Village fell very quiet. Yet no one slept a wink. The household guards' personal guard and First Regiment, working with the Internal Guard, the militia, and the patrolmen, searched every inch of He Family Village, inside and out.

The merchant caravan tents originally near He Family Village were also thoroughly inspected one by one. At the same time, every inn within the village and every civilian home sheltering outsiders was sealed off and rigorously searched. Anyone who had dealt with them was brought in to identify faces.

After the searches, slight differences were found from place to place. In some, the shopkeepers and assistants had acted together; in others, the shopkeepers and some assistants had been tied up, looking as though they had been coerced.

Thanks to the two old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" from Chuangshi and "Dai Bawang" from Qidian for their tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions, monthly tickets, and tips. It's the end of the month — no point holding onto those monthly tickets; cast them for Great Ming Wufu!