Love Burning Amidst the Ashes. - Chapter 9 - The Bully Blocks the Road

The heavy, damp chill and putrid stench of the Corpse-Grove Forest finally lay behind them. Beneath a sky the color of lead, a ragged line of refugees stumbled forward like wounded ants on a forced march, moving in heavy silence along the muddy wilderness path. The rain had stopped, but murky puddles filled every hollow, splattering icy mud with each sinking step. Hunger, exhaustion, and despair hung over them like invisible shackles, a crushing weight on every shoulder.

Xu Qing Xuan leaned against his younger brother, Qing Feng. His face was still pale, but it held a faint whisper of life now, a vast improvement over the deathly gray pallor that had cloaked him in the stone crevice of the Corpse-Grove. His eyes were closed as if in sleep, his body swaying slightly with Qing Feng’s steps. The occasional furrow of his brow betrayed the lingering torment—the residual malevolent Yin energy and the searing pain in his meridians still gnawed at him from within. His breathing was long and shallow. The Yin-Yang Jade pressed against his chest, close to his heart, emitted a tenacious, cool energy. Like a most loyal guardian, it tirelessly combated his pain and combed through the chaotic sea of his consciousness. The cold, black compass was hidden against his skin in the innermost layer of his clothing, a silent seed containing unknown karma.

Xu Qing Feng’s condition was far worse. His teeth were clenched, every step a monumental effort. The deep, bone-grazing slash on his chest, though treated with his brother’s herbs and its bleeding temporarily stemmed, sent a piercing agony through him with every breath and movement, tugging at the raw, exposed flesh. More terrifying was the state inside his body. His meridians, scorched by the lightning backlash, were like cracked, parched riverbeds. Even the weakest flow of qi and blood brought a tearing, burning pain, as if countless grains of red-hot iron sand were grinding through his flesh. Sweat mixed with grime streamed from his temples, soaking his tattered clothes. Yet, his spine remained straight. His left arm was locked firmly around his brother’s waist, his own body serving as a living crutch. Every step he took was planted with deliberate solidity. His brother needed him. He could not fall.

The atmosphere within the group was stifling, suffocating. Only the heavy tread of feet, suppressed coughs, and the occasional weak wail of a hungry child broke the silence. Old Man Zhang led the way, leaning on his staff. His clouded eyes vigilantly scanned the muddy path ahead and the barren, yellowed-grass slopes on either side. Chen Lao Jiu followed close behind, the worn bundle he treated as his life strapped to his back. His cunning eyes periodically swept over the others in the group, lingering on the Xu brothers with a gaze full of unspoken scrutiny and calculation. The little girl, Niu Niu, whom Qing Xuan had saved, was now cradled in her mother’s arms. Her small face was still pale, but her breathing had steadied. Occasionally, she would open her large, dark eyes, gazing with a child’s innate curiosity at this bleak world.

Suddenly!

“Hiiiiii—!”

A shrill, piercing horse’s whinny, sharp as a whistle, ripped through the wilderness silence!

It was followed by the rapid, chaotic thunder of hooves—a frantic drumbeat echoing from the bend in the path ahead! Accompanied by coarse whistles and waves of raucous, unrestrained laughter!

“Haha! See! What did I tell ya? In this cursed weather, the fat sheep deliver themselves right to our door!”

“Tch! A bunch of beggars, poorer than dirt! What lousy luck!”

“A mosquito’s leg is still meat! Search ’em! Don’t leave a single copper!”

The refugee column instantly transformed into a panicked flock of sheep, descending into chaos! Shrieks of terror, children’s cries, and frantic shoving erupted all at once! Old Man Zhang’s face changed drastically. He raised his staff, his voice a hoarse shout: “Don’t panic! Don’t panic! Gather close! Everyone, gather close!”

But before his words faded, seven or eight shaggy-maned, stout workhorses charged like a whirlwind to the front of the group! Astride them were seven or eight men with brutish faces and savage eyes, dressed in a motley assortment of worn leather armor and tunics. They brandished gleaming cleavers, spiked clubs, and crude spears. They reeked of sweat, blood, and exuded a faint, yet unsettling, spiritual pressure! These were clearly no ordinary bandits, but cultivator-bandits who had stepped onto the path of cultivation! Their leader was especially massive, a moving mountain of muscle with a thick, wild beard. A hideous scar ran from his left temple down to the corner of his mouth. In his hand, he held a heavy demon-head saber, its blade glinting coldly, clearly stained with much blood. He reined in his restless mount, his ox-like eyes sweeping over the terrified, despairing refugees with a gaze full of greed and mockery.

“Listen up, all of you!” the scar-faced bandit leader boomed, his voice like thunder, making eardrums vibrate. “This road belongs to my ‘Blood Wolf Gang’! Want passage? Leave behind your life-toll! Food, water, valuables—hand it all over! Dare to hide anything?” He grinned viciously, swinging his saber casually. A wrist-thick, dried tree beside him was cleanly severed! The cut was smooth as a mirror! This was far beyond mere brute strength—the blade was clearly sheathed in sharp spiritual energy!

“A… a Qi Refining cultivator!” Old Man Zhang gasped, his face instantly turning ashen. The refugees behind him were scared out of their wits, many going weak at the knees and collapsing into the mud.

“Hurry up! What are you waiting for? My patience is limited!” the scar-faced leader roared impatiently. The cultivator-bandits behind him, like hyenas catching the scent of blood, urged their horses forward with strange laughs. Their weapons pointed at the crowd as they began roughly shouting, shoving, and rifling through the bundles and meager possessions the refugees clung to for survival.

“No… please! This is my child’s last bit of food!” a mother clutching an infant wailed, desperately shielding a small cloth pouch.

“Scram!” A cultivator-bandit sneered, kicking the woman aside and snatching the pouch. He dumped the handful of coarse grain inside into his own leather sack. The baby screamed in terror.

“Sir… have mercy… we truly have nothing…” an elderly man with white hair pleaded tremulously, shielding his empty pack.

“Old fool! Looking to die?!” Another cultivator-bandit, impatient, slammed the shaft of his spear into the old man’s back! The old man cried out in pain, collapsing to the ground and curling into a agonized ball.

Screams, sobs, pleas, and the bandits’ brutal laughter mingled into a hellish cacophony. The stench of despair, like a chilling tide, instantly drowned this already fragile group.

Xu Qing Feng, supporting his brother, was pushed toward the rear by the panicked crowd. He watched the bandits mercilessly abuse the women and children, stealing their pitiful, life-saving food. He heard the helpless cries and pained groans. A long-suppressed fire—a mix of grief, fury, and raw violence—suddenly roared to life in his chest! Images flashed before his eyes: his parents dying horrifically, the Xu family medicine hall engulfed in towering flames, his mother and father’s bloodied forms… They were like the sharpest knives, gouging his heart. Why?! Why were it always these beasts who bullied the weak?! Why did the powerless have to be trampled so wantonly?!

His teeth ground together audibly. His clenched fists were white-knuckled, nails digging deep into his palms. The scorched, painful meridians inside him seemed stirred by this towering rage, sending waves of tearing agony, but he paid it no mind! His once-bright black eyes were now bloodshot, like volcanoes about to erupt, fixed with lethal intensity on the cultivator-bandit who had kicked the old man.

And at that moment—

“Let go—! Let my Niu Niu go!” A heart-rending, piercing shriek suddenly stabbed into Xu Qing Feng’s eardrums!

The woman clutching Niu Niu had her arm seized by a short, stocky bandit-cultivator with a lecherous grin! Clearly drawn to her lingering traces of beauty, he spewed obscene taunts while trying to snatch the child from her arms!

“Pesky brat! Get out of the way!” the stocky bandit roared impatiently, his large hand reaching for Niu Niu!

Niu Niu’s face drained of color, a terrified scream tearing from her throat. The mother held onto her child with the ferocity of a beast protecting its young, struggling and shrieking desperately, “You beasts! You filthy beasts! Let my child go!”

This scene was the final spark to ignite the powder keg.

“STOP!!!”

Look! The mother cradling Niu Niu had her arm seized by a short, stocky bandit-cultivator wearing a lecherous grin! The bandit was clearly drawn to what remained of the woman’s fading beauty. As he spewed a stream of vulgarities and obscene taunts, he reached for the child in her arms!

“Damn brat’s in the way! Toss her aside!” the stocky bandit snarled, his large hand grabbing for Niu Niu!

Niu Niu’s face turned ghostly pale with terror, unleashing a piercing scream! The mother clutched her daughter like a wild beast protecting her young, struggling desperately as she shrieked, “Animals! You’re all animals! Let my child go!”

That sight was the final spark to ignite the powder keg.

“STOP!!!”

A thunderous roar, blazing with fury and reckless defiance, exploded from the depths of Xu Qing Feng’s throat! Like the wounded cry of a cornered tiger, it instantly drowned out all other chaos!

Everyone froze mid-action! The bandits spun around in shock; the refugees stared in sheer horror.

In a flash, Xu Qing Feng shoved his brother, who was leaning against his shoulder, toward a petrified elderly refugee beside them—his movement swift as lightning! His eyes were crimson, veins bulging like smoldering coals! The wound on his chest, patched with medicinal paste, tore open again from the violent surge of emotion. Blood instantly seeped through his ragged clothes, saturating a large patch, while faint arcs of electricity danced across his skin. Yet he seemed utterly numb to the pain. His body shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, carrying an aura of desperate, heroic resolve as he charged at the stocky bandit-cultivator assaulting the mother!

“You’re dead!” Startled for a moment by the sudden attack, the stocky bandit’s face twisted into a cruel sneer. He didn’t take this half-grown youth—covered in wounds and breathing weakly—seriously at all! Releasing the woman, he clenched his fist, a faint glimmer of spiritual energy swirling around it, and drove it straight toward Xu Qing Feng’s face! The punch was swift and brutal, enough to shatter stone!

But Xu Qing Feng, now completely consumed by rage, erupted with speed and strength that defied all reason! He made no attempt to block the fatal blow! As he charged, he suddenly dropped low, narrowly evading the fist’s force, while his right leg swept out like a steel whip, carrying the momentum of wind and thunder, crashing into the side of the stocky bandit’s unsuspecting supporting knee!

CRACK!

The sickening sound of shattering bone.

“AUUUGH—!” Caught completely off guard, the stocky bandit let out a shrill, distorted scream of agony! His knee instantly twisted in the opposite direction, grotesquely deformed! His entire body toppled like a felled tree, howling as he crashed heavily into the mud!

Fast! Brutal! Precise! It was the raw, street-forged technique of someone who had fought for survival, delivered with utter disregard for his own life!

“Bastard!” “Cripple him!” The other bandit-cultivators, both shocked and furious, roared as they closed in! Blades, spear shadows, and spiritually-charged fists and feet descended upon Xu Qing Feng like a violent storm!

Xu Qing Feng was like a wild beast trapped by a pack of wolves, his blood-red eyes showing not a hint of fear—only burning rage! Relying on fearless ferocity and instincts honed on the streets, he twisted and dodged within the confined space! He avoided a blade aimed at his head, took a direct hit from a spiked club on his shoulder (grunting as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth), and retaliated with a punch to another bandit’s solar plexus! His movements were swift and reckless, pure life-or-death combat! Every evasion and attack tore at his reopened chest wound and his scorched, painful meridians. Blood flowed incessantly, staining his clothes and the mud beneath his feet crimson!

But he was, after all, grievously wounded! His stamina was draining rapidly, his movements inevitably slowing.

“Surround him! Don’t let him escape!” The scar-faced leader watched coldly from horseback, observing the blood-drenched youth fighting in the center as if he were a struggling insect. He did not intervene personally, but the oppressive aura of a Qi Refining cultivator hung in the air like an invisible boulder, weighing heavily on every heart.

A bandit-cultivator wielding a spear spotted an opening as Xu Qing Feng’s movements lagged. A murderous glint flashed in his eyes. With a sharp whistle, the spear tip shot forward like a cobra striking, aimed with deadly precision at Xu Qing Feng’s back! If it struck true, death was certain.

“Qing Feng!” Pushed into the crowd, Xu Qing Xuan had opened his eyes the moment his brother roared and charged. Leaning against the old man, his face remained pale, but in the depths of his clear eyes, all fatigue and pain had been forcibly suppressed, leaving only icy calm and rapidly racing thoughts. He had witnessed his brother’s fierce charge and now saw him surrounded, his life hanging by a thread!

He can’t fight them head-on! Qing Feng is too badly injured—he’s no match! We must use cunning! We must intimidate them!

At the fatal moment, as the deadly spear was about to pierce Xu Qing Feng’s back—

“STOP!”

A sharp, cold voice cut through the chaotic din of battle and weeping like the sudden shattering of glacial ice. It wasn’t loud, but it carried an eerie penetrating power and an undeniable authority, ringing clearly across the entire scene!

Everyone froze once more! Including the spear-wielding bandit-cultivator!

There, behind the crowd, stood the handsome young man (Xu Qing Xuan) who had moments ago been leaning weakly against the old man. Without anyone noticing when, he had straightened to his full height. His face was still as pale as paper, his lips bloodless. His clothes were slightly disheveled from the earlier shoving, even revealing the edge of a bloodstained bandage at his chest. Yet, his posture was extraordinarily upright, like a green pine standing firm amidst a blizzard! His clear eyes were now sharp as cold stars, sweeping indifferently over the bandits, especially the scar-faced leader on horseback. There wasn’t a trace of fear in them—only an aloof, almost disdainful dignity, as if looking down at mere ants!

“The Blood Wolf Gang?” Xu Qing Xuan’s voice carried a deliberately drawn-out, icy thread of mockery, as if from the depths of the underworld, clearly reaching every bandit-cultivator’s ears. “A swarm of ants ignorant of their own mortality, daring to block our path and rob here? Do you even know whose path you obstruct?”

As he spoke, he moved with an unnervingly slow, deliberate rhythm, retrieving an object from within his robes.

It was the Yin-Yang Jade!

The jade lay cradled in his mud-stained palm, its warm, lustrous glow stark against the gloomy sky. The two intertwined fish, one black, one white, slowly circled one another. The millet-sized pearl at its center emitted a soft, yet resilient light. With an extremely subtle motion, Xu Qing Xuan’s finger pressed a specific pattern on the back of the jade, while he forcibly concentrated the wisp of spiritual energy that had just barely regenerated within his sea of consciousness, channeling it into the artifact!

Hmm—!

A vibration, almost imperceptible yet seeming to act directly on the soul, emanated from the jade!

The pearl at the jade’s center instantly erupted with light many times brighter than before! The opposing black and white energies swirled faster, forming a visible, rippling halo of mist on its surface, undulating like water! An ancient, profound aura, faintly carrying the imprint of some supreme cosmic law, silently spread outwards from the jade! Though weak, this aura possessed a primordial pressure that made everyone present, bandit-cultivators included, feel an involuntary tremor deep within their hearts!

“Heaven’s Mechanisms revolve, Yin-Yang decrees the order!” Xu Qing Xuan’s voice suddenly rose, taking on a strange, resonant cadence as if echoing the rhythms of heaven and earth, each word falling like a chilled jade bead striking stone. “This is the sigil of my Heavenly Secrets Pavilion! And you vermin dare covet it?!”

Heavenly Secrets Pavilion!

Those three words struck the scar-faced leader and every bandit-cultivator like a thunderbolt from a clear sky!

The savage grin on the scar-faced leader’s face instantly froze, his pupils constricting to pinpoints! He stared fixedly at the strange, glowing jade in Xu Qing Xuan’s hand, feeling that weak yet incredibly pure ancient aura. His mind raced, connecting it with the youth’s profound calm despite grievous injuries, the commanding shout that had carried that uncanny resonance… A wave of icy terror shot up his spine to the crown of his head!

The Heavenly Secrets Pavilion! That’s a true colossus of the eastern Yun Huang Continent! A supreme immortal sect that governs the secrets of heaven, divines fate, with unfathomable depth! Its disciples, when walking the world, represent the Pavilion’s will! Offend the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? Forget his insignificant Blood Wolf Gang—even the shady backers behind him couldn’t withstand their thunderous wrath! This youth before him, though injured and weak, his bearing and that jade couldn’t be fake! And… The leader’s eyes flickered imperceptibly to the slightly opened robe, catching a glimpse of the bloodied bandage beneath—that wound… is no ordinary injury from a fight! Could it be… from some secret mission? Or being hunted by enemies? Whatever the case, it’s absolutely not something he can get involved with!

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the scar-faced leader’s back. His facial scar twitched with fear. He suddenly raised a hand, barking a sharp order: “All of you, stop! Fall back!”

The bandit-cultivators surrounding Xu Qing Feng were bewildered but dared not disobey their leader’s command. They sheathed their weapons, retreating with uncertain, wary glances.

Xu Qing Feng was drenched in blood, his chest wound gaping open, crimson staining half his body. His scorched meridians screamed as if about to tear apart, and only his fierce, stubborn will kept him from collapsing. Propped on his knees, he breathed in ragged gasps, his bloodshot eyes fixed first on the retreating bandits, then darting in shock to his brother who had suddenly stepped forward. Big brother… what is he saying? Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? What is that?

Xu Qing Xuan ignored his brother’s stunned gaze, seeming not to notice the bandits’ retreat. He maintained his icy, authoritative demeanor, his gaze like a physical icicle locking onto the scar-faced leader on horseback. His voice carried an indisputable pressure: “Your crime of insolence deserves immediate execution! In consideration of your ignorance, your punishment is recorded for today! Disperse at once! Should you dare linger…” He paused, his eyes slowly sweeping over the bandit-cultivators before finally settling on the scar-faced leader. The corner of his mouth lifted into a bone-chillingly cold smile. “…My Heavenly Secrets Pavilion’s ‘Heaven’s Mandate Lure’ will ensure your souls are scattered, forever barred from rebirth!”

Upon hearing the name “Heaven’s Mandate Lure,” the scar-faced leader’s face turned ashen! That was the Pavilion’s exclusive and infamous secret art, said to manipulate karma and curse enemies to death from a thousand li away! Better to believe it exists than to disbelieve and pay the price!

“A misunderstanding! All a terrible misunderstanding!” the scar-faced leader cried out without a moment’s further hesitation, hastily clasping his fists from atop his horse, his voice tinged with clear panic. “We did not know an Envoy of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion was present! We were blind, and have offended an immortal’s majesty! We deserve death! We deserve death!” As he spoke, he glared fiercely at his subordinates, especially the stocky bandit clutching his broken leg and wailing, shouting harshly: “Get out of the way! Clear a path for His Excellency the Envoy!”

The bandit-cultivators retreated as if granted amnesty, hurriedly helping up their wounded comrades and pulling back to either side of the path like a receding tide, clearing the way. They all kept their heads bowed, not daring to breathe too loudly, their earlier arrogance utterly gone.

Xu Qing Xuan’s expression remained impassive, as if their apology was only to be expected. He slowly put the jade away, the misty halo fading with it. Without another glance at the bandits, he calmly turned his gaze to the still-stunned Old Man Zhang beside him. His voice returned to its previous hoarse calmness, yet carried an intangible force: “…Old Man Zhang… lead the way.”

Old Man Zhang jolted as if waking from a dream. Witnessing this sudden, dramatic reversal, looking at the grievously injured yet seemingly all-controlling young man before him, his eyes filled with unparalleled awe and reverence! He hurriedly bowed in response, “Y-yes! Yes, Your Excellency!” His voice held a barely perceptible tremor. He immediately began urging the stupefied refugees, “Quickly! Hurry! Follow His Excellency!”

The refugees, like drowning people grasping a lifeline, erupted in the frantic elation of those narrowly escaping death. Supporting one another, they moved swiftly and with newfound reverence, carefully skirting the bowing, deferential bandits. They clustered around the Xu brothers and hurried along the muddy path, leaving the scene behind in a desperate, ragged procession. As the mother holding Niu Niu passed by Xu Qing Feng, she shot him a glance brimming with tearful gratitude, whispering softly, “Thank you… thank you, young master…”

Supported by an elderly refugee, Xu Qing Feng followed in his brother’s footsteps, his mind still shrouded in fog. The heart-pounding fight, the life-threatening crisis, and his brother’s heaven-sent intimidation… everything had happened too fast! He stared at his brother’s straight yet visibly weak back, his heart filled with confusion: …The Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? What’s that? Why would Brother say that?

But he soon had no energy left to ponder such things. The price of forcing himself into battle came crashing down! The searing pain from the reopened wound on his chest, the torment of his scorched meridians, compounded by blood loss and exhaustion—his vision swam with black spots, his steps faltered. Only the old man’s support kept him from falling behind the group.

Xu Qing Xuan walked at the front of the procession, his face still pale but his stride steady. Outwardly calm, inwardly he was as taut as a drawn bowstring. That earlier bluff had nearly drained what little spiritual energy and physical strength he had managed to recover. He could feel it clearly—the scar-faced leader’s gaze, cold and suspicious as a serpent’s, laced with a barely perceptible probing intensity, remained fixed like a nail between his shoulder blades.

It was only after the refugee column had traveled far into the distance, almost disappearing around a bend in the road, that the scar-faced leader slowly withdrew his stare. The feigned fear and deference on his face had vanished, replaced by a brooding, troubled frown.

“Boss, was that kid really from the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion?” a trusted bandit-cultivator sidled up, asking cautiously. “His injuries were so severe…”

“The aura from that jade was no fake,” the scar-faced leader rubbed his thick beard, eyes glinting thoughtfully. “But why would a Heavenly Secrets Pavilion disciple be hiding among refugees? And injured like that? Hunted by enemies? Or… carrying out some shady mission?” The more he thought, the more it seemed off. A disciple of the Pavilion, even wounded, would never sink to mingling so wretchedly with common refugee rabble!

“So… we just let it go?” The trusted subordinate glanced resentfully in the direction the refugees had vanished. “That brat who crippled Old Six…”

“Let it go?” A sinister light flashed in the leader’s eyes, his mouth twisting into a vicious grin. “Of course we don’t just let it go! The Heavenly Secrets Pavilion… hmph! Better to kill by mistake than let slip away! Send men! Track them from a distance! See where they’re really headed! If there’s truly something fishy… heheh…” He licked his lips, greed and cruelty gleaming in his gaze. “That jade is a fine treasure! And as for that brat who crippled Old Six’s leg… that debt will be paid in blood!”

“Yes, Boss!” The trusted bandit’s eyes flashed with malice. He immediately pointed out two subordinates skilled in tracking, whispering brief instructions. The two bandits nodded and slipped away like ghosts, soundlessly following the path the refugees had taken.

The scar-faced leader watched his men disappear, then glanced back at the stocky bandit wailing on the ground, clutching his shattered leg. Impatience flickered across his face. He waved a hand dismissively. “Take Old Six and move out! Damn, what lousy luck!” He turned his horse and, with the remaining bandits in tow, galloped off in another direction, leaving behind only trampled ground and cold, clinging mud.

Led by Old Man Zhang, the refugees fled in panic for what felt like an eternity, only stopping when the bandits were completely out of sight. They collapsed at the foot of a relatively open, barren slope, gasping for breath, their hearts still pounding with the terror of their narrow escape, grateful to be alive.

Xu Qing Xuan leaned against a cold rock, eyes closed as he regulated his breathing. His face was several shades paler than before, a fine sheen of cold sweat beading at his temples. Forcing the jade’s activation and concentrating his spirit to intimidate the bandit leader had taken a heavy toll on his frail body. The jade against his chest continued to emit its cool, steadying energy, like a most loyal guard, slowly combing through the chaos of his sea of consciousness and fighting against the pain. And he could feel it clearly—that cold, watchful gaze still lingered somewhere far behind the group. The danger was not over.

Xu Qing Feng was settled beside his brother, the old man helping him redress his torn chest wound. Excruciating pain made him clench his jaw, beads of sweat rolling down his face like peas. He looked at his brother’s weary, pale profile, the questions in his heart churning like boiling water.

Just then, a shrewd figure approached. It was Chen Lao Jiu. His face wore an ingratiating smile as he rubbed his hands together, speaking to Xu Qing Xuan with exaggerated care. “Young… young master… I mean, Your Excellency! You… your divine might earlier was awe-inspiring! With just a few words, you sent those fierce bandits running! Admirable! Truly admirable!” While pouring on the flattery, his sharp, shifty eyes roamed over Xu Qing Xuan, lingering for a moment on the spot where the jade was hidden. Deep in their depths flickered a poorly concealed greed and burning curiosity. A token of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion! That’s a legendary treasure of the immortal sects!

Xu Qing Xuan slowly opened his eyes. His clear, cool gaze swept indifferently over Chen Lao Jiu’s calculating face, offering no reaction. He merely coughed, a faint, dry sound, before closing his eyes again. That look, deep and chilling as a frozen pond, made Chen Lao Jiu’s heart lurch. He retreated a few steps awkwardly, not daring to say more, though the avarice in his eyes did not fade.

Old Man Zhang also came over, his face a mix of post-crisis relief and profound respect. He bowed respectfully to Xu Qing Xuan. “Thanks to Your Excellency’s intervention, you saved the lives of everyone in our group! Such a great kindness is beyond words! Not far ahead lies ‘Blackstone Hollow.’ Past the hollow mouth, heading west leads to the main official road to ‘Greenwood City’—busy and crowded. To the south, there’s a smaller path that leads to ‘Raging Thunder Gorge.’ Though steep and remote, it offers a quicker way to bypass the Greenwood City area…” He paused, his tone inquiring. “Might I ask… which direction does Your Excellency intend to take?”

This was both a probe and an attempt to find the safest anchor for his group.

Xu Qing Xuan’s eyes remained closed, as if he were asleep. The wind on the barren slope carried the first chill of early winter, whipping up dried yellow grass and stirring the stray locks of hair on his forehead. Leaning against the cold stone, the remnant Yin energy in his body clung like maggots to bone, the burning in his meridians a constant fire. The jade against his chest glowed with a faint, subdued light. The black compass pressed close to his skin felt icy and heavy, like a brand of fate burning into him.

Old Man Zhang’s words echoed clearly in his ears: West, the main road, crowded. South, Raging Thunder Gorge, steep and remote.

The bandits’ scouts, like venomous snakes, were still tailing them from afar. That cold, watchful presence was a tangible thorn, a reminder the crisis had not passed. The “Heavenly Secrets Pavilion” disguise might buy them a moment, but it was no long-term solution. The scar-faced leader’s suspicious, venomous glare, Chen Lao Jiu’s undisguised greedy stare—they all whispered a silent truth: this hastily woven identity was a bubble ready to burst, hiding immense peril!

He needed time to recover, a safe path, and above all, to shake the tail behind them. Traveling with his severely wounded brother and this large, conspicuous refugee group made them a huge, slow-moving target, a beacon in the dark.

A cold, clear thought, sharp as lightning cutting through fog, suddenly crystallized in his weary yet rapidly calculating mind—Split up. They had to split up.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. In the depths of his clear gaze, all fatigue and pain were forcibly submerged, leaving only icy resolve. He looked at his younger brother, Xu Qing Feng, beside him—hazy with pain and blood loss, yet stubbornly clinging to consciousness, refusing to fall. His gaze was complex, heavy with unspoken weight.