Birds chirped softly in the forest, and a gentle stream babbled nearby.
The muddy mountain path wound and twisted through the terrain.
On both sides of the road were dense woods, the trees lush and full of leaves. The noon sunlight filtered through the gaps in the foliage, scattering finely across the mountain ravine below.
A young man and woman were hurrying along the forest trail.
The youth carried a backpack on his back and held a bundle in his hand, stepping lightly ahead while humming a cheerful tune.
The woman carried nothing but walked unsteadily, sweat pouring down her fragrant brow as she struggled to keep pace.
The two traveling through the woods were Ling Xiaodong and Ye Yiyun, en route to Pengcheng Road.
Ye Yiyun staggered, then stopped to steady herself by a small tree beside the path, one hand on her waist, breathing heavily, sweat misting her forehead.
“Xiaodong, let’s rest a moment. No need to rush so much.”
Ling Xiaodong turned in surprise.
“Aunt Yun, are you tired? We haven’t walked far yet.”
Rarely descending from the mountains, Ling Xiaodong’s heart was light. He was strong and vigorous, feeling no fatigue, oblivious to the fact that Aunt Yun trailing behind was already utterly exhausted.
Ye Yiyun calmed her breathing and complained, “I’m already twenty-seven or twenty-eight. How can I be as young and energetic as you?”
The two found a clean spot under a large tree to sit and rest.
Ling Xiaodong pulled out some dry food from his bundle and offered it to Ye Yiyun.
“Aunt Yun, want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry. You eat.”
Ye Yiyun politely declined. She was too tired to eat, lacking any appetite.
Though it was dry food, it was actually fairly refined pastries—not bad at all, just a bit dry, needing water to accompany it.
Just as Ling Xiaodong was halfway through eating, his brow suddenly furrowed.
“What’s wrong? Does it taste off?”
Ye Yiyun thought the dry food might have gone bad, but Ling Xiaodong shook his head.
He wrapped the dry food back in its greaseproof paper and put it away in the backpack. Then he stood and scanned the dense forest, clasping his fists and calling out in a loud voice:
“We are merely travelers passing through, accidentally passing by a treasure place with no ill intent. Friends, why not come out and have a chat?”
Ye Yiyun was stunned. Her spiritual sense quickly swept the surrounding trees.
Only then did she realize that beneath the concealment of the leaves, she and Ling Xiaodong were already surrounded by dozens of people.
The rustling of leaves grew louder as dozens of bandits armed with spears and short knives, dressed in short shirts and coarse cloth, surged from the forest, instantly filling what had been an empty thicket.
Leading them was a burly, muscular man.
His bare torso was covered in scars of all sizes. At his waist hung a mighty Nine-Ring Mountain-Cleaving Blade. His deep eyes were sharp like a hawk’s, radiating a fierce gleam.
The bandits all fixed their greedy, malicious gazes on Ling Xiaodong and Ye Yiyun, as if appraising prey.
Beside the leader stood a pale, beardless, gaunt man.
Unlike the rough bandits, he was dressed like a scholar and held a feather fan—clearly the strategist of this gang.
The strategist smiled at the leader:
“Boss, today’s luck is truly good. Judging by their looks, we’ve stumbled upon two fat sheep.”
The leader crossed his arms, standing firm and calm.
Ignoring his strategist, he quietly ordered the bandits:
“Bind these two. Be careful not to hurt the ‘fat sheep’—we’ll want ransom money.”
Ling Xiaodong and Ye Yiyun immediately understood.
This band of bandits intended to kidnap them for ransom, evidently seasoned in such crimes.
Unfortunately for them, they were unaware that Ye Yiyun was a Five Elements Realm cultivator—not as frail as she seemed.
She stepped forward, placing herself before Ling Xiaodong.
Between her slender fingers she held a yellow talisman. Her spiritual energy surged, the thunder rune ready to activate.
At that moment, Ling Xiaodong suddenly patted Ye Yiyun on the shoulder.
“Aunt Yun, let me handle them.”
“You? But—”
Ling Xiaodong winked.
“They’re just common bandits. Aunt Yun, don’t you know I’ve been wrestling bears since I was a child? Let me have some fun with them.”
“Fun? When swords and knives are involved… you… ah, ah!”
Before Ye Yiyun could finish, Ling Xiaodong darted out. His speed was so fast even afterimages couldn’t be seen. No one present reacted in time.
“Ah!”
A sharp scream rang out as a bandit was flung flying backward, crashing into a tree and breaking it.
The bandits looked at each other in confusion, unsure what had happened.
Then screams of pain echoed repeatedly through the forest.
Ling Xiaodong leapt and dashed among them, striking with fists and feet, reducing the fully armed bandits to broken bones and twisted limbs.
For such ruthless villains, there was no mercy to be given.
Now even the foolish bandits understood—they had picked a fight with the wrong opponent.
Lacking discipline, they dropped their weapons and scattered like frightened birds through the forest.
Ye Yiyun, still clutching her talisman and watching Ling Xiaodong closely, relaxed slightly seeing him handle the situation with ease.
“Enough!”
A loud shout came from the burly leader, booming like a bell through the woods.
Ling Xiaodong was stepping on a bandit’s back when he turned to face the leader.
The man remained composed, showing no anger or panic despite the sudden reversal. Just his presence alone revealed he was no ordinary bandit.
He cupped his fists in greeting:
“Young hero, you are indeed talented. I misjudged; my men are no match for you. Why don’t we have a proper duel?”
He drew the Nine-Ring Mountain-Cleaving Blade from his waist, the golden rings clinking crisply.
“I am Lu Chen. Please advise me.”
Lu Chen?
Ye Yiyun’s delicate brows knit.
The name sounded familiar.
Recalling, she remembered that in the West Region, there was a martial sect called the Wild Wave Pavilion.
It had produced a renowned prodigy, said to be one in a hundred years across the entire West Region.
That person favored the Nine-Ring Mountain-Cleaving Blade, mastering the Three Wave Wild Blade technique, unmatched and ranked among the top 300 masters worldwide while still young.
That person’s name was also Lu Chen.
The reason Ye Yiyun remembered this was that half a year ago, Lu Chen had slaughtered everyone in Wild Wave Pavilion himself. No one knew why, and the wanted notice had even reached Qingfeng Temple.
To this day, no one had seen him alive or dead, nor knew where he had disappeared.
If this Lu Chen before them was that master…
Ye Yiyun’s heart tightened.
He was one of the top 300 masters in the world; Ling Xiaodong wouldn’t stand a chance!
Just as she was about to intervene, the Three Wave Wild Blade came crashing down too fast—too fast to chant a spell.
Wave upon wave of blade light surged like crashing ocean waves toward Ling Xiaodong.
Yet Ling Xiaodong stood firm, eyes wide as Lu Chen charged—seemingly unable to react.
“No!”
Ye Yiyun’s face turned pale as she shouted.
In an instant, the blade light touched Ling Xiaodong’s chest.
Clang!
A heavy sound rang out as the Nine-Ring Mountain-Cleaving Blade fell to the ground.
Lu Chen’s chest was pierced with a large hole, a bloody fist thrust through his left chest and out his back.
Lu Chen stared down at the youth before him in disbelief, noticing the boy’s face filled with terror, like a fledgling bird’s first kill.
Slowly, Lu Chen looked down at the arm embedded in his chest, his shock lasting until death.
“Impossible… you are… a Grand Master?”
“What Grand Master? Tch, so disgusting.”
Ling Xiaodong pulled his right hand, coated in sticky blood, from Lu Chen’s chest. Blood gushed from the wound, staining half his green robe a deep red.
It was Ling Xiaodong’s first kill, but since it was the right target, he bore no great psychological burden.
“Xiaodong!”
Ye Yiyun shouted, rushing toward him in a panic, but failed to notice the vine beneath her feet.
“Ouch!”
She fell forward, landing hard on the ground.