Chapter 69: Chapter 69
Shen Xiuhan dropped the corpse and wheeled around.
The area around the carriage had erupted into a roar of violence.
Geng Weizhi fought blade-to-blade against Zhu Jing.
Zhu Jing pressed his advantage with Blood Tempering cultivation, his strikes wide and devastating. Within a few exchanges, Geng Weizhi’s right arm hung limp at his side and a fresh gash had opened across his chest. He was on the verge of collapse.
Seven or eight common bandits surged past the duel, rushing the carriage like starving wolves.
The two maids screamed and flung their arms wide to shield their mistresses.
Ji Xue clutched her younger sister Ji Yao tight. For all their years of martial training at Wuji Academy, when the moment of truth arrived, neither could muster a single technique — all they managed were panicked shrieks of “AAAH! AAAH!”
Young Master Ma and the Wen youth steeled themselves and stood their ground against the seven or eight bandits.
“Get out of the way!”
A few blows was all it took for the bandits to open bloody gashes on both of them. Defeat was moments away.
Shen Xiuhan bit back a surge of exasperation.
His body blurred, and he materialized behind Zhu Jing like a phantom, five fingers hooking into the back of the big man’s neck.
Zhu Jing went rigid. He wrenched his head around, saw who it was, and roared in a fury of shock and rage.
“Fuck your mother! Where’s Erniang and Third Brother!?”
“Gone home ahead of you.”
Shen Xiuhan’s left hand didn’t budge an inch. His right arm surged — tendons rising like coiled dragons beneath the skin.
Qi-blood flooded into his right fist like a tidal bore, carrying the force of a battering ram, and he hammered it into Zhu Jing’s face.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
One. Two. Three…
Five punches was all it took. Zhu Jing’s cursing was beaten clean back down his throat.
Shen Xiuhan’s fingers loosened. The body hit the mud with a dull, meaty thud, toppling face-first into the mire.
His once-ferocious face was a cratered ruin — caved in, shattered beyond recognition, nothing left but a pulp of blood and mangled flesh.
The remaining bandits finally registered what had happened.
When they saw all three of their leaders lying dead, their souls nearly fled their bodies. They dropped the two bloodied young gentlemen and scattered in every direction.
Shen Xiuhan flicked the toe of his boot under a fallen steel saber. It spun into his hand.
He tore into them like a tiger loosed among sheep.
Where the blade passed, lines of blood sprayed into the air.
Where his legs swept, bones snapped and tendons tore.
In the space of a few heartbeats, punctuated by a handful of aborted screams, eight more corpses littered the ground.
Beside the carriage — dead silence.
Only the howl of the wind, and the harsh, terrified gasping of the survivors.
Shen Xiuhan stripped the bodies of anything useful, then shot a glance at the huddle of trembling onlookers.
“Get in the carriage!”
…
On the driver’s bench.
Shen Xiuhan pressed two fingers together and worked his way along Geng Weizhi’s left arm, probing and pressing upward.
Sweat poured from Geng Weizhi’s brow at every touch, but he clenched his jaw and didn’t make a sound.
After a moment, Shen Xiuhan withdrew his hand and exhaled softly, his tone reassuring.
“Don’t worry. The bone and sinew are broken, but the meridians are intact. With proper decoctions to promote blood flow and loosen the tendons, you’ll recover in a year or so. There may be some lingering aftereffects down the road, though…”
“Thank you, Patrol Envoy…”
Geng Weizhi’s face was the color of old parchment, but his voice held a note of profound relief.
“If you hadn’t stepped in, I’d be a ghost under Zhu Jing’s blade by now. To walk away with my life is more fortune than I ever dared hope for. I won’t ask for anything beyond that.”
“Rest easy, Patrol Guard Geng.”
Ji Xue’s voice carried from inside the carriage.
Though still shaken, she fought to maintain the composure befitting the daughter of a great house.
“You suffered this injury in service to our family. The Ji clan will not stand idle. When we return, I will personally report to the Patriarch and see to it that you receive the best treatment available.”
Geng Weizhi’s eyes reddened, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you for your kindness, Second Young Lady!”
He had elderly parents and young children at home, still wailing to be fed. The Ji clan’s promise was nothing short of a lifeline — it ensured his whole family’s livelihood. His gratitude was heartfelt and absolute.
As he spoke, a slender, porcelain-white hand quietly lifted one edge of the brocade curtain.
Ji Yao poked her head halfway out. Color had returned to her pretty face, and her bright, dewy apricot eyes studied Shen Xiuhan with open curiosity.
“Excuse me… Senior Brother, what should I call you? I don’t believe I’ve seen you at the estate.”
Before Shen Xiuhan could reply, Geng Weizhi jumped in to explain.
“Third Young Lady, allow me — Brother Shen is a senior disciple of Mei Hall in the inner city, as well as the newly appointed Patrol Envoy of Yunyi Island. He’s here on the garrison commander’s direct orders to escort you and the Second Young Lady home from the academy.”
“Mei Hall?”
Ji Yao blinked, then her eyes went wide with sudden understanding. A spark of admiration flared in her gaze.
“Could that be the same martial hall as Jiang Qinghong — the Heroine Jiang, one of Changyun County’s Four Great Prodigies?”
Shen Xiuhan gave a slight nod, brief and to the point.
“She is my Senior Sister.”
“Oh! No wonder Senior Brother Shen could take on those Chenjian Wu killers single-handedly!”
Ji Yao’s cheeks flushed pink with excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “When we get home, I’ll be sure to tell Mother everything so she can record a great merit for Senior Brother Shen!”
In the far corner of the carriage.
Watching Ji Yao hang on Shen Xiuhan’s every word, her eyes sparkling with admiration and questions tumbling out one after another, Ma Jinghang felt as though someone had kicked over a vinegar jar inside his chest. His face darkened to the color of iron.
But then he caught the detail — this Shen fellow was nothing more than a martial hall disciple, working for the Ji clan as a common “Patrol Envoy” — and his mind began to churn.
‘Pah!’
He sneered inwardly.
‘I thought he was some kind of hidden master. Turns out he’s just a hired blade — takes the master’s silver, risks his neck for a living.’
‘How’s that any different from the guard dogs we keep at our own estate?’
With that thought, Ma Jinghang felt as though all the face he’d lost had been magically restored. His spine straightened of its own accord, and he made a show of clearing his throat, about to hold forth on some self-important point —
“Quiet!”
Shen Xiuhan’s low bark cut him off mid-breath.
His cold gaze swept toward the lake beyond the wharf.
Beneath the surface, pale golden pinpricks of light pulsed like something breathing — flickering, fading, flickering again.
A strange light flashed through Shen Xiuhan’s eyes.
He touched down lightly on the flagstones, robes snapping in the river wind, and stood with his hands behind his back.
“You’ve been holding your breath down there long enough — aren’t you tired of it?” His voice carried across the water. “No need to skulk in the shadows. Come out.”
The lake’s surface lay perfectly still.
Only the whisper of the wind through the reeds, and the soft lapping of waves against stone.
Beside the carriage, Geng Weizhi’s faith in Shen Xiuhan was by now absolute. Every alarm in his body went off at once. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he gripped his saber hilt left-handed, braced as though facing a mortal enemy.
Inside the carriage, Ji Xue and Ji Yao exchanged bewildered glances, uncertainty written across their faces.
Ma Jinghang, stung at being cut off, muttered under his breath.
“Jumping at shadows, putting on airs…”
On the other side, the Wen youth shot him a look of pure contempt, cursing silently:
‘What an utter imbecile!’
‘We’re one wrong move from losing our heads and this fool still can’t read the room. With brains like yours, you think you deserve to compete with me for a woman?’
While every mind churned with its own thoughts —
BOOM!
The calm surface of the lake detonated.
A column of water erupted skyward, and a torrent of spray cascaded down, hammering the flagstones with a staccato roar.
A massive silhouette burst from the water and landed with rock-steady balance on a stone platform some distance away, facing Shen Xiuhan across the gap.
The newcomer was stripped to the waist. Ridges of muscle were crisscrossed with a web of savage scars. His long black hair hung soaked and heavy against his spine, clinging like dark serpents.
His eyes — the eyes of a tiger, the eyes of a leopard — blazed with feral brutality, and as his gaze swept across the onlookers, it scraped against them like a blade peeling flesh from bone.
The moment Geng Weizhi saw him, his pupils shrank to pinpoints. Horror flooded his voice.
“It’s Qu— Qu Bushi!”