Chapter Twenty-Six: Righteousness (Please Leave a Comment!)

A gentle breeze brushed his face as the radiant sunlight shone above and below. All around lay a tranquil, peaceful silence. The narrow mountain path was strewn with rebellious, jagged stones, interlaced like canine fangs. A young man, graceful in bearing, strolled leisurely as if in a courtyard, traversing rocks and hills with ease.

On either side, trees swayed, dappling the ground with shifting shade. Vines clung to the rocky cliffs, blocking the way down. He simply raised his foot and stamped, the blow like a heavy hammer shattering the vines in two. With a crisp sweep of his leg, he cleared the path ahead.

“I should’ve brought a blade,” he mused. This was Chen Yu, out to buy chicks from the village. He hadn't expected that, after only two days, the mountain vines had grown anew, sprawling over the path, their dew making the ground subtly slick.

Fortunately, the Crane Cloud Technique included rigorous training of the legs. After months of practice, his feet landed with solid certainty, undaunted by a little dampness.

As he walked, he pondered which village he should visit. Qingtai Mountain wasn't far from Shiya County, but there weren’t many nearby settlements. For buying chicks, it was best to visit a larger village. He sifted through his memory; within ten miles at the foot of the mountain, only a handful of places existed. Last time, the old herdsman had spoken of Yungu Village, though it was a bit distant, with a small river lying in between, each bank hosting a tiny hamlet.

If the old man’s ancestors had been craftsmen, then that ox must have been his own, not one he tended for a landlord. This suggested his family’s means were not insignificant.

“Maybe I’ll head straight to Yungu Village,” he considered. Then he thought better of it; since he’d already come down, he might as well first try the two small villages at the mountain's base—perhaps he wouldn't need to travel farther.

Having made up his mind, Chen Yu quickened his pace. His movements were light as willow leaves, leaping down the mountain path until he disappeared into a dense forest.

He weaved through trees, pushing aside concealing branches, grass, and thorns, following the trail. Soon, he reached a fork: one branch led to Shiya County, the other toward Yungu Village.

Both paths had been trodden by villagers and hunters, rough and narrow. Chen Yu didn’t pause, heading directly toward Yungu Village.

...

Clang! Clang! On the embankment, gold and iron collided, earth and stones flying. The grass was blasted to shreds by the force of the blows.

Bang! Bang! Two palms—one broad, one slender—clashed in midair, sending a powerful shockwave that whipped up a fierce wind.

“Villain! Take my Molten Sun Palm!”

The young hero sprang like a sparrow, his shout laced with anger, ruthlessness, and an irrepressible excitement—he was every bit the prototypical novice just out of the mountains.

He pressed down with his palm, the forceful wind brushing the side of the burly man's face.

The man grinned wickedly and met the attack with a punch. If this blow could break his opponent’s strength, then in the moment it faltered, he—Liu Bao—would truly strike.

Boom!

The burly man staggered back several steps, feet stamping the earth to dissipate the force, shattering the soil beneath him. He looked up, his tiger eyes fierce, wiping blood from his mouth. His expression was grim, no longer as relaxed as at first; he dared not underestimate the young hero before him.

He glanced down at the fist mark on his left side; the surging force had even dented and split his thick leather armor.

“Shameless brat! You shout about your Molten Sun Palm, but your killing move is that punch. I was caught off guard and you got the better of me.”

This was no lamb for the slaughter.

It wasn’t just the deception—when their fists met, Liu Bao instantly realized his opponent was seasoned. Not only did the punch carry internal force, but there was also a silver needle hidden between his fingers!

Luckily, he’d worn armor today; otherwise, the outcome might have been dire.

Liu Bao stared the young man down, speaking slowly while quietly regulating his breath to subdue the pain in his abdomen.

A thin needle, an inch long, slid from his damaged armor and fell, point-first, into the earth.

So vicious!

He was used to toying with these so-called righteous disciples, but today he’d nearly fallen for their trick. This fellow might look proper, but he was anything but honest.

“Incredible! To withstand my Molten Sun Palm, your martial skills are truly astonishing. May I ask your name? And why do you consort with a band of outlaws?”

On the other side, the scholarly, jade-faced swordsman finally broke the silence. He slung his sword across his back and asked.

But Liu Bao did not reply; in fact, his nerves grew even tauter—this man was not to be underestimated, not only ruthless and cunning, but also utterly shameless!

He could still speak with a straight face about that palm technique! Didn’t he know what he’d just done?

“If you’re not willing to talk, then let’s settle things after our bout,” the swordsman said, drawing his silver blade, which quivered slightly in his grip. His youthful smile was gone, replaced by a cold, cutting glare.

“Rest assured, I am a disciple of the Qilian Sect. In my travels, I have witnessed many tortures and interrogations—rest assured, I’ll make you speak freely when the time comes!”

Liu Bao said nothing, lifting his saber to his waist, suppressing his internal force.

The Qilian Sect—an eminent martial clan, renowned not so much for their Plum Blossom Six Hands as for their gruesome punishments with thorn and blood.

He didn’t take the threat seriously. In their earlier exchange, their skills were evenly matched, both at the level of mastering internal force. If anything, his own strength was slightly superior; he’d only been caught off guard.

Besides, who could tell if the threat was real? And he wasn't alone—though the bandits behind him were barely competent, they could still create a distraction. As soon as the remaining villagers had been subdued, this opponent would not escape.

Though a hardened killer, Liu Bao quickly regained his composure, unwilling to waste words. Instantly, he summoned his strength and charged, bringing his saber down in a vertical arc.

Now was not the time for his underlings to intervene; he needed to drain his opponent’s stamina. Once that was done, the Bai Guo bandits could surround him, leaving Liu Bao free to recover.

...

Hidden among the trees, Chen Yu watched the fierce battle in the distance.

So, the martial spirit was indeed strong at the foot of the mountain—even in remote Shiya County, two third-rate martial artists with internal force could be found.

Their combat experience far exceeded his own, and Chen Yu felt his decision to stay secluded on the mountain was all the wiser. The world was descending into chaos, strongmen multiplying, and life below was growing ever more perilous.

He gazed further and saw crowds behind the two fighters, bandits swinging clubs and villagers wailing. He’d heard the distant cries of battle on the way here, and now, drawing closer, he saw a gang of thieves attacking a village.

Hadn’t the Taoyang bandits been suppressed?

He was puzzled. Last time he’d been down the mountain, people said Taoyang had been pacified and peace restored to Guangyong Prefecture. Yet, only days later, the bandits were brazenly attacking in broad daylight.

His mind racing, he quietly slipped past the two battling men, their kicks and blows flying back and forth across the fields.

Chen Yu considered himself a kind soul; he had no sympathy for bandits who only brought destruction and slaughter. He had no place in the battle between martial artists and worried his own meager skills might hinder the young hero. But there were plenty of lesser thieves nearby—those, he could handle. The sooner he dealt with them, the more villagers he might save.

He crept to the edge of the woods, following the sounds of fighting, and found himself behind a small, vicious-looking bandit.

His fingers struck swiftly, like a chick pecking rice, landing on the back of the man’s neck. The move was light, but upon closer inspection, the skin on his fingers trembled, muscles quivered, and his joints gave a faint crack.

Faced with a foe who was unskilled and wide open, Chen Yu made no sound, simply channeled his internal force.

Crack!

The sound was faint, quickly drowned by the chaos of battle and shouts. Only the bandit beside him, who was raising a cudgel to strike a villager, paused in confusion as a head slumped against his shoulder.

He started to turn, but heard a crisp snap. His neck went limp, and darkness fell before his eyes.

“You are steeped in sin—let me, a humble Taoist, help you break free from endless karma.”

Murmuring softly, Chen Yu stooped to pick up the fallen club, his face expressionless as he brought it down on another Bai Guo bandit’s head.