The gate of the Caiyao Hall manor in Zhuqi County was breached by a combined force of several thousand men from the Nine Great Gangs of Pingzhou and numerous smaller factions. Fire immediately began to rage within, illuminating countless figures brandishing weapons, leaping through the flames as they hunted down the disciples of Caiyao Hall.

“Kill! Slaughter every last dog of the Medicine King Gang!” “Don’t let a single one escape!

Hurry!” The Caiyao Hall branch of the Medicine King Gang in Zhuqi County was utterly ruined. Its high-ranking members, including the Gang Leader Li Hong and the Hall Master, the great benefactor Li, had almost all perished at the Yongfu Tavern.

The main fighting force of the Medicine King Gang within the county had also been almost entirely annihilated by the other Nine Great Gangs. When disaster strikes, every man flees for himself; now, no one could spare a thought for anyone else.

Seeing the perilous situation, the apothecaries of Caiyao Hall quickly bundled up their valuables and fled. Naturally, the disciples had no desire to wait inside the manor for death to claim them.

Though they might never understand why the myriad gangs of Pingzhou had united so fiercely to exterminate the Medicine King Gang, when calamity struck, saving one’s own life was paramount. Yang Yicheng, Qian Ruoxiu, Sun Ying, and Feng Xiao—four fellow disciples—emerged, panic etched onto their faces, sneaking out from a remote dog-hole in the manor courtyard and onto the nearby street.

However, as Feng Xiao squeezed out of the passage, the massive, coarse cloth bundle he carried became hopelessly jammed in the opening. Yang Yicheng, frantic as he watched Feng Xiao struggling with his belongings, rushed back to pull him, shouting, “Third Brother, our lives are slipping away!

What do you still need this wealth for? Throw it away!

Fleeing is what matters now!” Feng Xiao’s face turned crimson as he shoved Yang Yicheng’s hand away and yanked desperately at the bundle, trying to wrench it free from the dog-hole. “What do you know?

This is all the loot I snatched in the chaos—gold, silver utensils, worth a fortune. Enough to live comfortably for half a lifetime!

We can’t just think about surviving this moment; we need money for life after this!” The sounds of slaughter from within the manor were drawing ever closer. “Hahaha!

Look there! Two little wenches from the Medicine King Gang!

Quick, seize them! Let our brothers have some fun!” A throng of several dozen burly men, blades and swords in hand, spotted them from down the street.

They erupted in joyous shouts and charged toward them, with even more figures pounding the ground rapidly behind them. The faces of Qian Ruoxiu and Sun Ying instantly turned as white as death.

Feng Xiao finally managed to wrench his precious bundle free from the dog-hole and slung it onto his back. “Go!” Yang Yicheng roared, grabbing a heavy broadsword he’d somehow scavenged, covering Qian Ruoxiu, Sun Ying, and Feng Xiao as they fled toward a sparsely populated alleyway.

Feng Xiao, despite the considerable weight of his pack, possessed superior lightness skills and still managed to run ahead of the other three. The dozens of thugs pursuing them drew nearer and nearer.

Their intermittent, hideous cries made Qian Ruoxiu and Sun Ying’s legs tremble uncontrollably. In a spasm of terror, Sun Ying stumbled and fell to the ground, bursting into tears from fright.

Qian Ruoxiu saw Sun Ying fall and realized the villains were about to seize her. Her delicate face flushed with indignant fury, and with a sharp cry, she spun around and doubled back.

“A’Xiu, hurry and help A’Ying escape!” Yang Yicheng cried out in distress. He whirled around violently, swinging the sword to hack at a ruffian attempting to grab Sun Ying, desperately holding off the surging crowd behind him.

But how could one man possibly fend off the chaotic slashing of so many brutes? After felling one, there was nothing left but to close his eyes and wait for death.

Dozens of feet away, a dark silhouette suddenly vanished from its spot, reappearing an instant later beside Yang Yicheng, Sun Ying, and Qian Ruoxiu. A faint, ethereal streak of sword light drifted through the crowd like wisps of smoke—phut, phut!

Blood sprayed in its wake. Over a dozen ruffians who had closed within ten paces of Yang Yicheng and Sun Ying collapsed, clutching their severed, spurting throats almost simultaneously.

A figure cloaked in a conical straw hat finally stood still, silently planted in place, the sword in his hand dripping thick streams of dark blood. No one saw how he appeared, nor how he killed; all that was visible was the carpet of dead bodies.

This terrifying spectacle instantly halted the pursuers behind them in their tracks. “What… what kind of swordsmanship is that?” “That man in black must possess the speed and movement of a peerless master!” “Let those two little vixens go for someone else to enjoy.

Our own skins are more important.” Fear seized the ruffians. They exchanged nervous glances, gripping their weapons tightly, and began to retreat in disarray.

Despite their numbers, they were merely second- and third-rate fighters, no match for a true master intent on butchery. More people were surging in from the rear, at least a hundred strong.

“Brothers from the Five Tigers Broken Blade Society up front! What’s the situation?

Chase those Medicine King Gang scum!” A Grand Elder from one of the Ten Great Gangs, a peak expert commanding immense authority, arrived at the forefront leading a large contingent of followers. He clearly hadn't assessed the scene, striding boldly to the very front and barking orders arrogantly.

The man in black let out a cold sneer, a chilling glint flashing in his eyes. Suddenly, his figure vanished from where he stood.

When he reappeared, he was standing behind the Grand Elder like a specter, slowly sheathing his dripping, lethal sword. Ye Qin had no interest in which of the Ten Great Gangs this Elder belonged to.

The Elder swallowed, but found he couldn't. He touched his throat—blood.

A gaping hole was bubbling up massive pockets of crimson liquid. With a thump, he collapsed onto the ground.

“W-W-W-Witchcraft!” “Run!” At once, the hundred-odd martial artists present screamed in terror, their souls scattered. They scrambled backward, tumbling over each other in a frantic rush to escape into the distance.

They had seen it: a distance of ten feet crossed in the blink of an eye. That was not human movement; it was a ghost, a demon, an immortal—anything but human.

The hundreds of gang members scattered like startled birds, leaving only a dozen corpses behind. The small street and alley instantly cleared, leaving only the metallic, lingering scent of blood.

Yang, Feng, Qian, and Sun were simultaneously terrified and overjoyed. They had been saved by this mysterious man in black and were safe for the moment, yet they remained uneasy, wondering who this person was and what he intended to do with them.

Ye Qin, after finishing the killing, silently wiped the blood from his sharp sword on a corpse. In times of strife, human life held so little value.

He shook his head internally, his voice raspy and indifferent. “The Medicine King Gang is now the public enemy of every faction in Pingzhou; they must be purged.

You four should change out of your Caiyao Hall robes for common civilian clothing. Wait until dawn, then find a remote place in the countryside to lie low for a year or perhaps eighteen months.

You should be safe then.” With that, he turned and left, his sword at his side. For some reason, Sun Ying stared at him and suddenly burst into wrenching sobs.

“Second Senior Brother, is that you?” Ye Qin’s movement paused slightly, but he did not turn back as he flew away. They say a woman’s intuition is uncanny.

He hadn’t expected Sun Ying to recognize him despite his disguise. He would cherish the bonds of brotherhood forged over years of gathering herbs.

But he knew clearly that the path of cultivation he was set upon meant he could never again have much contact with the four of them. They might remain in Zhuqi County their whole lives, but he would leave this place.

The fate connecting the five of them as martial siblings had reached its conclusion here. Yang Yicheng was stunned silent.

This chilling, murderous man in black was the Second Brother? When had the Second Brother become so cold, ruthless, and unblinking in taking lives?

Feng Xiao clutched his bundle tightly, dumbfounded. Second Senior Brother’s power seemed terrifyingly deep.

Qian Ruoxiu’s expression was complex; she muttered something indecipherable under her breath. After Ye Qin departed, Yang Yicheng, Feng Xiao, and Qian Ruoxiu stood frozen for a long moment before pulling the grieving Sun Ying away from the bloody scene.

The four of them scaled a wall and slipped into a nearby residence, hurriedly changing clothes and hiding indoors to avoid further pursuit by other gangs. .