Chapter 144: Beneath the Radiant Heavens, a Flash of Steel

“You never imagined this, did you, brother?”

The slight young man drew a deep breath and smiled. “A person as formidable as you actually fell into our hands. Look at you now—gravely wounded and unable to move, with no choice but to let us do as we please. Does that leave you feeling unwilling to accept your fate?”

Qingyuan remained silent. In truth, he had no strength left to answer.

“Back then, you cut us down like autumn leaves, nearly wiping out our entire band of brothers. Your skill was so great that no one could even imagine taking revenge. Yet who would have thought we would have such an opportunity today?”

The leader sighed. “You are alone and badly wounded. That brother in the black robe was killed by someone, I suppose? And now you are the only one left, having barely escaped with your life?”

The slight young man gave a mocking chuckle. “In the end, his fate was simply too poor. He could not escape death.”

Qingyuan slowly closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, still refusing to speak.

A dragon stranded in shallow waters is toyed with by shrimp; a tiger fallen on the plains is bullied by dogs.

Ultimately, he had only himself to blame for not wiping out these bandits that day and leaving behind such a source of trouble.

Yet no one could have imagined that he would fall into such a state, allowing these worthless ruffians to look down upon him from above.

“Bring me a blade!”

The middle-aged man raised a hand, and someone immediately passed him a great saber. He caught it, swung it in a wide circle, and sent its gleaming edge flashing before lowering his gaze upon Qingyuan.

At that moment, the youth who had first been frightened senseless by Qingyuan shifted his eyes and said, “Big Brother, he cannot move now. No matter how skilled he is, it will do him no good. Why not hang him up and let each of the brothers shoot him with arrows in turn? That way, everyone can vent the hatred in their hearts!”

“Silence.” The middle-aged man snorted and cast the youth a cold glance. Then he turned his eyes back to Qingyuan and looked down upon him.

“You are highly skilled, and I respect you for it. But we of the greenwood hold our rules above all else. Gratitude and resentment must be clearly distinguished, and every enmity must be repaid. Today, I shall sever your head to comfort our First Chief and the others. Afterward, I will not dishonor your corpse. I shall give you a proper burial.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised the saber and brought it down toward Qingyuan’s head.

“Time to be on your way.”

The blade shone with a chilling light as it swept down from the side toward Qingyuan’s neck.

At that instant, a sudden golden radiance flared.

The light rose from Qingyuan’s chest to his neck, blocking the descending blade.

The middle-aged man poured all his strength into the strike, yet it felt as though he had cleaved into a swamp. In an instant, the saber sank into it.

But in the blink of an eye, his hands suddenly felt light. He lowered his head and saw that they were empty.

The others stared at one another in bewilderment. They had seen their First Chief swing his saber down, and then the great weapon had simply vanished.

Qingyuan’s gaze was cold and indifferent. He uttered a single word:

“Go.”

With a sharp whistle, a radiance burst from the ancient mirror at his throat. It was grim and icy—the very light of a blade.

The blade flashed, then came to an abrupt halt.

When the others looked again, the great saber that had vanished without explanation had appeared in the First Chief’s chest. Its point protruded from his back, the edge drenched in blood.

Terror still lingered in the First Chief’s eyes, but the expression on his face had already frozen. A moment later, he toppled backward.

“Witchcraft… witchcraft!”

The youth who had spoken earlier cried out, turned, and ran. He stumbled to the ground, hurriedly scrambled back up, and fled in panic.

With one man leading the way, the others were unable to suppress their fear. They scattered in every direction, fleeing wildly—including the slight young man. In an instant, they had all vanished.

They were desperate men who had long since cast life aside, but the sight before them was far too terrifying. It was beyond anything that martial skill could achieve, outside the bounds of what ordinary people could even imagine.

Moreover, they had already suffered terribly at this young man’s hands, losing dozens of their number. Fear had long been rooted in their hearts, and now it erupted all at once.

Qingyuan shifted his gaze aside and then withdrew it. He truly was gravely wounded and had no strength to move. Killing all these bandits would not be easy.

The ancient mirror at his throat gradually dimmed and fell against the side of his face.

Once more, everything sank into silence.

…

Nearly half an hour passed before Qingyuan finally managed to use his inner energy to mend his damaged organs and the bones throughout his body.

His injuries were far from healed, but he could barely move. At that moment, he was thinking of the technique he had obtained from Chen Xing—a spell capable of drawing in vitality and restoring his own strength.

“This place cannot be lingered in…”

Qingyuan lowered his head and glanced at the middle-aged man’s corpse. The blood scent emanating from it had already attracted quite a few birds and beasts, though Qingyuan had barely managed to frighten them away. Should fierce tigers or vicious wolves appear, however, their savage nature would be no ordinary beast’s, and they could not be driven off so easily.

He pushed himself upright, braced himself with his iron staff, and slowly made his way forward, gradually disappearing into the distance.

The place slowly fell silent.

Only after a long while did someone approach from that direction, carrying a basket of medicinal herbs on his back.

The man was past fifty, with a black beard stirring in the wind.

When he saw the scene, he first stared in astonishment. Then his gaze swept across the area and settled on the corpse pierced by the saber. A glimmer immediately rose in his eyes.

“In this broad and peaceful realm, who would still dare to kill a man?”

His voice was low and filled with anger.

…

Taking the terrain, the sunlight, and the direction into account, Qingyuan chose a particular place.

He walked for roughly a mile or two, and before long he could see, in the distance, a gigantic tree—lush, verdant, and densely crowned with leaves.

Just then, Qingyuan turned his head and saw a girl.

She appeared to be eleven or twelve years old, with delicate features and clear brows. Her clothing was plain: a pink garment washed so often that it had faded nearly white, marking her as a child from a poor household. A basket of herbs hung on her back, containing only a small amount of medicinal plants. In one hand she carried a little digging hoe. With a pair of bright, black-and-white eyes, she watched Qingyuan quietly, seeming faintly curious.

Qingyuan glanced at her, then looked away.

After his encounter with that jade spirit earlier, he could not help feeling wary of a girl appearing alone in the forest. Fortunately, his senses told him that this little girl was neither an apparition nor a demon, but merely an ordinary child who gathered herbs.

Leaning on his iron staff, he struggled onward.

“Um…” The little girl suddenly spoke, hesitating. “How can I help you?”

Qingyuan stopped and turned his head toward her. After a moment, he said softly, “Little girl, do you see that large tree ahead?”

She nodded. “I see it.”

Qingyuan drew a deep breath. “If you wish to help me, then please support me as far as it.”

The little girl bit her lip but did not move.

Qingyuan was slightly taken aback.

“Um…” she said quietly. “My father says that men and women should not touch one another…”

Qingyuan suddenly laughed. “I was being presumptuous.”

With that, he resumed walking.

The little girl rubbed her head. “Should I find a doctor for you?”

Qingyuan shook his head slightly. “There is no need.”

The little girl fell silent. She glanced at the large tree in the distance, then at the man moving slowly toward it, and lowered her head with a troubled expression.

Qingyuan continued on alone when he heard footsteps approaching. Someone took hold of his arm. Looking down, he saw the little girl gritting her teeth slightly, a trace of stubbornness in her eyes.

“Don’t tell my father, or he’ll beat me to death.”

To be continued.