The black-clad rider was dead, pierced through the throat and neck by Wang Yu's sword.
Zhao Yingjie and the others gathered around, each of them deeply shocked.
The rider's martial arts had been far from weak. Judging merely by the moves he had just displayed, he was definitely superior to Zhao Yingjie. While not on par with Zhao Shan or Zhao He, capturing or killing him would not have been an easy task even for them.
Yet in a mere two or three exchanges, Wang Yu had bypassed his eagle-beak mattocks and run a sword straight through his throat.
"I didn't break through his eagle-beak mattocks; he simply couldn't counter my swordplay, because I was the one on the attack the entire time."
Wang Yu possessed a clear, sober assessment of his own abilities. "On his first move, he was suspended in midair, unable to alter his momentum, and he took me too lightly. Even so, he still parried my longsword.
"On the second move, he grew too impatient. He was so desperate to force me back that he failed to notice the shifting cadence of my sword. Taken completely off guard, he was wounded by my thrust, and that was what cost him his life."
Seven Forms of the Setting Sun: Twilight Clouds and Light Mist.
This technique was indeed a defensive stance, but through the deductions and revisions of the tortoise shell, an attack was hidden within the defense. Deceptively slow yet lightning-fast, it had caught the black-clad rider unprepared upon encountering it for the first time, leading to his injury and demise.
Had the man calmed his mind and engaged Wang Yu methodically, those twin eagle-beak mattocks were rich with variations, and defeating him would not have been easy for Wang Yu.
"Brother Yu, a win is a win! No need for so much overthinking," Zhao Yingjie chimed in, stepping closer. "His carelessness was his death sentence!"
Zhao Shan and Zhao He both nodded in agreement.
"His martial arts were quite formidable. It is said Shi Mo took on seven disciples; I wonder which one he was?" Zhao He remarked.
Zhao Shan shook his head. "Not the first two, in any case."
Shi Mo was himself a martial arts grandmaster. His first two disciples had been taken in during his early years and were already Xiantian masters by now, so neither could possibly be the black-clad rider lying before them.
"Encountering an enemy in the wild, and one of Shi Mo's disciples at that—this is no place to linger. We should head back inside the pass," Zhao Shan suggested.
Zhao He's gaze sharpened. "Yang Tianzhao had us leave the pass, only for us to run right into an enemy attack..."
Wang Yu shook his head. "Word of our journey to inspect the troops was sent to him well in advance. If Yang Tianzhao truly meant to harm me, the one ambushing us here would not have been this man alone.
"Furthermore, if it were him, upon our arrival he would have done everything possible to win my trust, rather than staging a spectacle to test me—and a rather disrespectful test at that."
Hearing this, Zhao He let out a breath of relief. He had not been worried about being unable to return past the border wall; after all, they all possessed martial arts and were not strictly reliant on Jinfeng Pass to come and go. His true fear was that Yang Tianzhao might lead Black Qiang cavalry into the Central Plains to pillage—which would have spelled catastrophe.
Five cavalrymen were nothing to him, but against a volley from five hundred riders, even someone with heaven-defying skill would meet a bitter end.
"Back to Jinfeng Pass!"
The group loaded the corpses of the Black Qiang scouts onto the horses and returned together to Jinfeng Pass.
Yang Tianzhao came out to receive them upon hearing the news. A soldier at his side recognized the identity of the black-clad rider.
"This is Shi Mo's sixth disciple, named Naluotuo! He appeared outside the pass around the troop rotation before New Year's and killed several of our brothers."
"Since there are usually only scattered Black Qiang scouts after New Year, and masters rarely appear until autumn, this was my oversight. I beg the Prince to mete out punishment," Yang Tianzhao said, offering an apology to Wang Yu.
"It has nothing to do with you." Wang Yu helped Yang Tianzhao up. "On the contrary, your suggestion allowed us to eliminate one of Shi Mo's disciples, which is a boon for our scouting patrols. It's just that the men must exercise extra caution during patrols outside the pass from now on, lest the enemy send another expert seeking vengeance."
Yang Tianzhao's eyes narrowed slightly, and he replied solemnly, "This general understands."
...
Having found no martial arts manuals or miraculous pills on Naluotuo's body, Wang Yu simply took his pair of eagle-beak mattocks, intending to keep them in his manor's collection.
After all, he was the first enemy to die by his own hand—worthy of commemoration.
Speaking of which, he recalled the wuxia novels he had read in his previous life, where many experts seemed to have a habit of collecting fallen foes' weapons.
Wait a minute... didn't those experts almost always end up defeated by the protagonist?
Damn it!
I *am* the protagonist!
Sitting inside the carriage, Wang Yu turned the eagle-beak mattocks over in his hands.
Qianqian sat beside him, leaning gently against his shoulder, looking back and forth between Wang Yu and the eagle-beak mattocks.
Each mattock measured merely two feet in length. The shaft was made of oil-soaked wood encased in iron plating, engraved with cloud patterns and soaring eagles, while silk was wrapped around the hilt to prevent slipping.
The head was forged in the lifelike shape of an eagle's beak, tipped with an inch-long blade that could stab, hook, and lock enemy weapons.
It was an exquisite exotic weapon.
"I heard Shi Mo's weapon is a pair of white bone claws?" Wang Yu asked, recalling Lu Yunzhou's earlier explanation.
"Indeed," Zhao He, driving the carriage outside, answered. "A pair of refined-steel white bone claws. They can stab, peck, hook, snare, and smash, executing techniques of the utmost subtlety and finesse."
Utmost subtlety and finesse?
That differed considerably from Wang Yu's impression of steppe martial artists. Weren't steppe fighters supposed to favor rough, unpolished arts and overpower others with brute strength?
"It is said that in his youth, Shi Mo traveled across the world, apprenticed under a Central Plains master of the judge's brush, learned the White Bone Contemplation passed down by Tantric Buddhism in the Snowy Regions, and combined it with the steppe's divine art, the Bone Burial Secret, to create the *White Bone Heaven Burial Method* and the Eighty-One Forms of the White Bone Claw, thereby stepping into the realm of grandmaster."
Zhao He explained, "According to the old prince, Shi Mo's internal cultivation is both profound and eerie, while his forms are simultaneously rough and refined, combining the strengths of the steppe, the Snowy Regions, and the Central Plains. Were it not for the old prince's internal force from *Flowing Fire Reflection* burning fiery-hot and his sweeping, wide-ranging saber techniques happening to counter him, an ordinary martial arts grandmaster might not even be his match."
Wang Yu clicked his tongue. "That formidable?"
"He is a martial arts grandmaster, after all." A note of yearning leaked into Zhao He's voice. Even as an enemy of Shi Mo, he could not help but acknowledge the man's martial accomplishments.
Without extraordinary talent and peerless gifts, even advancing to Xiantian was as difficult as scaling the heavens, let alone becoming a martial arts grandmaster.
Wang Yu nodded. Having killed the man's disciple, and with the Prince of Zhenxi's Manor already sworn enemies with the Qiang, this was bound to be one of the major bosses he would face in the future.
A martial arts grandmaster?
Looks like I'll need to take even more tonic medicines!
His journey north to inspect and reward the troops had moved slowly due to the massive wagon train of supplies. More than half a month had passed by now; he wondered if Zhao Rong had procured any more potent nourishing medicines in the meantime.
Heading back from Jinfeng Pass meant traveling southward, and within days they drew near Longshan City.
Wang Yu had the main convoy follow slowly behind while he took Qianqian, Zhao Yingjie, Zhao Shan, and Zhao He ahead, enjoying greater freedom of movement and even taking a detour along the way to admire the spring scenery.
Over the many days spent together, the relationship between Wang Yu and Qianqian had deepened. Beyond holding hands, they could lean close and share kisses, though Qianqian still dodged his attempts to go any further.
*Mm, looks like the unblemished courtesan plan needs to be placed on the agenda after all.*
Just as Wang Yu was musing over this, the clash of weapons and shouts of battle reached his ears.
"What's going on?" asked Zhao Yingjie, seated at the front of the carriage.
"Seems like travelers running into bandits." Zhao Shan, riding alongside on horseback, pricked up his ears. As an expert in hidden weapons, he excelled at pinpointing positions by the sound of wind and possessed extraordinary hearing. After listening for a moment, his expression shifted. "It sounds like the Mount Qi bandits!"
Wang Yu lifted the carriage curtain. "Let's take a look!"
Zhao Shan and Zhao He cracked their whips, and the rider, the carriage, and the ten manor guards surged forward together, quickly arriving at the battlefield.
Over thirty bandits brandishing various weapons were besieging four grey-robed monks. The monks possessed respectable martial skills, but could not withstand the bandits' sheer numbers and the experts among them. Fighting as they fled, they were retreating in Wang Yu's direction.
Just as Wang Yu and his party spotted them, the combatants naturally noticed the carriage and guards as well.
Seeing the manor guards dressed in uniform attire, swords and sabers hung at their waists, clearly looking like a disciplined fighting force, one of the monks shouted for help: "We are monks of Baolun Monastery, ambushed by Mount Qi bandits! Please, kind sirs, lend us your aid!"
Having also caught sight of Wang Yu and the others, the bandits intensified their attacks. Two of them sprang forward abruptly while the monk was speaking; one brought a saber down in 'Cleaving Mount Hua'. The monk dodged frantically to the side, only to be caught off guard by a long saber sweeping in from the other flank.
The monk cried out in pain. Even as his shoulder was slashed, the straps of the pack on his back were severed, sending a fist-sized square box tumbling to the ground.
Seeing this, the other three monks grew frantic and rushed forward, only to be held back by the surrounding bandits.
The bandit who had struck the final blow ducked down, scooped up the wooden box, and flipped it open. Inside lay a thumb-sized pill, pure white as jade, emitting a delicate fragrance.
"Got the goods! Scatter!" the bandit barked, turning to flee.
The other bandits prepared to withdraw as well, not expecting the monks who had just been fleeing to turn right around and pursue them.
The monk wounded in the shoulder called out once more to Wang Yu's group for help: "What the bandits stole is a Snow Lotus Jade Marrow Pill concocted by an elder of our monastery, meant to be delivered to the Great Vajra Monastery! Noble sirs, please help us! Our monastery will reward you handsomely!"
"The Great Vajra Monastery? A Snow Lotus Jade Marrow Pill?"
Wang Yu's eyes lit up. This was practically a pillow handed to a sleepy man. Without hesitation, he waved his hand. "Snatch the pill back!"
Zhao Shan and Zhao He sprang into the air, swift as galloping steeds. Flanking the battlefield from both sides, they closed the distance in less than twenty zhang, rapidly bearing down on the fleeing bandit.
"Who are you?!" The bandit was shocked, never expecting to run into such experts on a job down from the mountain. He barked sharply, "I belong to the Vajra Stronghold of Mount Qi! Our stronghold chief will be here any moment!"
Zhao Shan's brow twitched, but his hand was not the slightest bit slow. Three locust stones shot forward in a triangular formation. "We'll talk after your chief arrives!"
The bandit possessed remarkable martial prowess, being the strongest among this band of Mount Qi bandits. He had kept himself hidden in the crowd earlier precisely to strike a decisive blow. Facing Zhao Shan's locust stones now, he ducked low and evaded them, but the evasion checked his momentum just long enough for Zhao He to catch up.
The bandit spun around and slashed three times in rapid succession. Zhao He closed in barehanded, his five fingers rigid as steel, clinging tenaciously around the man's wrists and forcing the bandit to retreat step after step.
Zhao Shan flicked his right hand, and another locust stone flew on a slant, striking dead center on the bandit's Yingu acupoint at the back of the knee.
The bandit cried out in agony. The wooden box slipped from his left hand and went flying, only for Zhao He to leap into the air, reaching out to snatch it securely in his grasp.
By then, the melee between the bandits and monks had drifted nearby. Zhao Shan and Zhao He had no intention of prolonging the fight; turning immediately, they dashed back to the carriage and presented the wooden box to Wang Yu.
As he handed over the wooden box, Zhao Shan said in a low voice, "They belong to Mount Qi's Vajra Stronghold. He claimed their chief will be here soon."
Zhao He added, "The chief of Vajra Stronghold is Poison Hand Veda, Wei Honggang, one of the Five Great Bandits of Mount Qi."
Both spoke in unison: "This is no place to linger. We urge the Prince to return to the city at once."
Chapter 29