The middle-aged man glared at him, his eyes suddenly rolling back before he slumped over, unconscious. Zhao Jinsheng shook his head, approached a burly young man, and pressed the tip of his sword against the youth’s shoulder, saying coolly, "Who are you people?" "We're the Red Scarf Bandits!" the burly youth blurted out in haste. Having been wounded by a sword thrust on the shoulder, he knew the pain intimately. If a mere touch felt this bad, how much worse would it be to lose an arm? A wise man doesn't pick a fight he can't win! "Red Scarf Bandits?" Zhao Jinsheng pondered, turning to look at Li Muzhan. Li Muzhan shook his head; he had never heard of them. Zhao Jinsheng asked again, "Where is your stronghold?" "In... in those mountains over there!" The burly youth hesitated for a moment, then pointed towards a towering peak opposite them, sharp with bare stone and devoid of any vegetation. Li Muzhan shook his head and sighed, "Your eyes are darting about; you’re lying." "Ah—!" The burly youth screamed as his left shoulder was cleaved from his body, blood erupting. Zhao Jinsheng lightly tapped the wound a few times with his sword tip, sealing the pressure points and staunching the flow.

Li Muzhan let out an impressed sound. Just these few moves demonstrated extraordinary skill; ordinary pressure-point sealing and blood stopping wouldn't achieve such miraculous results. A wound like this would normally take much longer to stop bleeding completely. Zhao Jinsheng stated blandly, "Lie again, and I’ll remove your right arm!" The burly youth roared defiantly, "Damn you! Kill me or slice me up as you please, but don't dream of forcing the truth out of this old dog!" Zhao Jinsheng’s face darkened like a storm cloud. He smiled faintly, sliced his sword tip, and blood instantly spurted as the right arm separated from the body. Then, with a precise jab of the sword tip into the throat, the curse was abruptly silenced. Zhao Jinsheng walked toward the next man, a thin middle-aged individual. This man’s expression was indifferent. As Zhao Jinsheng approached, a faint smile touched his lips. He pointed toward a mountain opposite them: "Our stronghold is there! ... We don't call ourselves the Red Scarf Brigands; we are the Righteous Fortress." This mountain faced directly across the forest from the one the burly youth had indicated. Li Muzhan instantly surmised that the two groups of bandits were settled too closely together. With such limited road access, sharing the spoils would be impossible, leading inevitably to constant strife and, over time, bitter enmity. "A Righteous Fortress, indeed! You slaughtered every defenseless old man and child without lifting a hand. Is that what you call 'Righteousness'?!" Zhao Jinsheng ground out, his voice cold as ice. The thin middle-aged man turned away and sighed. Zhao Jinsheng looked toward Li Muzhan, who nodded slightly, "He’s telling the truth." Seeing Zhao Jinsheng’s demeanor—as if a chill radiated from him—the three women looked on with surprise, glancing cautiously at him, afraid to look at the ghastly scene opposite. Li Muzhan sighed, "Senior Brother Zhao, grant them a quick end!" Zhao Jinsheng shook his head, his expression resolute, "No! ... Hmph, it won't be so easy for them to die!" His movements were lightning-fast and elusive. Sword light flashed repeatedly, and in the time it took to blink, the arms of all fifty-plus men were severed, eliciting continuous screams. Zhong Bixuan’s delicate face twisted in revulsion, unable to bear the sight. Li Muzhan shook his head and turned away. He went to the scattered corpses near the carriage, dug a large pit, placed them in one by one, and then stood before the grave to begin chanting scripture. His expression was solemn, his bearing dignified. He moved his prayer beads with his left hand while pressing his palms together with his right. His eyes were slightly closed, and words spilled from his mouth like pearls, each one floating out slowly, inducing a profound sense of stillness and clarity in the listener's heart.

As his voice resonated, Zhao Jinsheng’s expression gradually softened. He glanced at Li Muzhan, and a flicker crossed his cold, starlike eyes. Suddenly, he transformed into a wisp of smoke, sweeping over the group. With sharp chi sounds, sword flashes erupted, and all fifty-plus men dropped dead; not one survived. The three women, Zhong Bixuan and the others, watched him, feeling a measure of relief as he killed them swiftly. Although killing was terrifying, it was certainly preferable to prolonged torture. Li Muzhan then performed the final rites to send this group onward. Seeing Zhao Jinsheng preparing to head up the mountain to destroy the bandit stronghold, Li Muzhan sighed and tried to persuade him, "Senior Brother Zhao, let’s forget it and just continue our journey." Zhao Jinsheng shook his head. Though his countenance was calm, his gaze was firm: "If these men remain alive, how many more will they harm? If I hadn't seen it, fine, but now that I have encountered them, I must eliminate them and execute heaven's will!" Li Muzhan pondered for a moment. "Let's deal with them when we return. It won't take more than a few days." Zhao Jinsheng still refused, his brow furrowed as he stared intently at Li Muzhan. "Junior Brother Zhanran, you are a monk; surely you know that subduing demons and vanquishing evil brings immeasurable merit!" Li Muzhan sighed, "We are drawing too much attention, which is not conducive to our current mission." Zhao Jinsheng dismissed this with a shake of his head. "Whether we are conspicuous or not hardly matters... We represent the Azure Sea Sword Sect. To remain indifferent when faced with such matters—wouldn't that shame our martial arts?" Li Muzhan shook his head and stopped arguing, sighing quietly. Seeing Li Muzhan no longer opposing him, Zhao Jinsheng relaxed slightly and turned to Xu Jingying. "Junior Sister Xu, what do you think?" "Yes, these people didn't spare women or children. They have lost all humanity and can no longer be called men. Killing them is the best course!" Xu Jingying nodded. "Very well, we shall raze this mountain!" Zhao Jinsheng declared with a grand wave of his hand, showing a rare burst of heroic spirit. They ascended the mountain, meeting resistance at every turn—ambushes hidden in the woods. Before they even reached the summit, several groups had already sprung out to harass, obstruct, and surround them. Although these mountain men possessed decent martial skills, they were far inferior to the members of the Azure Sea Sword Sect. The party advanced without hindrance until they reached the front of a fortress. The entrance gate was grand and imposing, topped by a small pavilion. Such an elaborate gateway was truly magnificent. Hanging above the pavilion was a horizontal plaque covered in cloud patterns, upon which two large characters were deeply carved: "Righteousness." These two characters looked sharp and powerful, clearly the work of a master. Li Muzhan examined them for a moment, his brow immediately knitting. He murmured softly, "Senior Brother Zhao, there is a powerful expert holding this place!" "Hmm—?" Zhao Jinsheng turned, whispering back, "Junior Brother Zhanran, how do you know there is a master here?" Li Muzhan pointed upward. "Senior Brother, look at that plaque. The writing style of those two characters is majestic; it must have been done by a master." Zhao Jinsheng smiled and shook his head. "Writing beautiful characters makes one a master? ... Junior Brother Zhanran, many famed calligraphers write with magnificent vigor, yet they couldn't lift a chicken!" Li Muzhan nodded, saying no more, realizing further argument was futile. He simply sighed, realizing how frightening uncontrolled emotion could be—once consumed by feeling, all wisdom vanished, leading to utter foolishness.

Zhao Jinsheng stood before the fortress gate and stated slowly, "The Righteous Fortress—a hypocritical name, given the monstrous evil you have committed. We are disciples of the Azure Sea Sword Sect, and today we come to execute heaven's will and destroy your Righteous Fortress!" His voice was calm, spreading out slowly and clearly as a pearl. Silence reigned within the fortress. Zhao Jinsheng could still hear breathing—dozens of men lying in wait behind the gate, ready to swarm them the moment he stepped inside. Seeing no movement, Zhao Jinsheng coldly laughed, then suddenly kicked a fist-sized stone, sending it flying like a cannonball. With a muffled peng, the gate shook twice, showering dust. Still no movement. Zhao Jinsheng sneered, turned to the roadside, and stood behind a waist-high boulder. After taking aim at the gate, he suddenly launched himself into a flying kick, striking the stone. With a whoosh, the stone shot forward on the wind, slamming into the gatehouse opposite. With a sharp kacha, the horizontal plaque snapped in two and tumbled down. The stone's momentum unabated, it smashed through the gatehouse and landed inside the compound, followed immediately by a scream of agony. The gatehouse shattered into pieces. That single kick, imbued with a strange power, revealed a glimpse of the true abilities of a direct disciple of the Azure Sea Sword Sect, completely demolishing the entrance. A group of men surged out, quickly surrounding the five visitors. Leading them was an elder with a flushed red face, a bushy beard, and a rotund belly, his eyes as large as bronze bells. Most noticeable was his head—completely bald, much like Li Muzhan’s, but without the tonsure scar, indicating he was not a monk, but simply bald. He glared with his large eyes and roared furiously, "We and the Azure Sea Sword Sect have always kept to our own territories. Why have you young whelps come here to cause trouble?!" "Keep to your own territories, you say? You dare speak of that?!" Zhao Jinsheng spat disdainfully, sneering, "You people commit acts that extinguish humanity; you deserve death without exception... Enough nonsense, let's fight!" He seemed agitated, roaring sharply, completely different from his usual self, as if he were another person. Zhong Bixuan watched him with surprise. The elder’s eyes narrowed, he snorted through his nose, and waved his hand forcefully, "Boy, you have a lot of nerve looking for death! Come on, send them on their way!" The group immediately mobilized. There were about a hundred of them, all with sharp glints in their eyes, clearly no amateurs. Each held a sword and attacked, aiming for the vital spots of Li Muzhan’s five companions. Zhao Jinsheng sneered. His sword light was like lightning; instead of retreating, he charged forward into the crowd like a wolf among sheep, felling a man with every move. Li Muzhan and the others were equally ruthless. Sparing chains of sword light scattered out, beautiful to behold, yet every pinpoint of cold light was fatal; all struck were dead. In the blink of an eye, Li Muzhan's party had slain over twenty men.

The bald elder suddenly let out a long cry, shouting toward the back, "Old Qiu, I request your intervention!" "Alas..." A long, languid sigh sounded, and a short, frail old man suddenly materialized. Zhao Jinsheng’s heart tightened. The world swam before his eyes, and the elder was suddenly there. Li Muzhan sighed inwardly, knowing this true master had finally appeared. He shifted his stance slightly, moving to stand beside Mei Ruolan, whispering, "Miss, it seems we have another life-and-death struggle ahead." "Mm," Mei Ruolan nodded. Li Muzhan observed the elder: small in stature, his face withered and dry, looking like an old man who might be blown away by the next gust of wind—extremely frail. His eyelids drooped heavily, as if he were already asleep, standing there lazily, paying no heed to the gazes directed at him. "Alas..." He sighed again, then lifted his head. Li Muzhan squinted slightly, examining the elder. His eyes were as sharp and fierce as a hawk’s, and his entire being's essence seemed concentrated in those two eyes. "Xiao Fang, this is the last time. You may leave now!" the slight old man said, waving his hand and sighing. The bald elder hurried to reply, "Elder Qiu, what about my subordinates...?" Elder Qiu shook his head. "I will only guarantee your life. What happens to the others is up to fate. Alas... Go, go. Do not walk the same old path again!" "Yes, Elder Qiu!" The bald elder responded respectfully, then turned to leave. Zhao Jinsheng flashed forward, suddenly blocking the path, sneering, "Trying to leave—?!" The bald elder poked his finger toward Zhao Jinsheng in a threatening gesture, squinting with a cold, grim smile. "You boy, we’ll settle our score another day!" Saying that, he continued walking forward as if Zhao Jinsheng were transparent. Zhao Jinsheng’s sword light flashed, thrusting straight ahead. The bald elder made no attempt to dodge, continuing his advance. With a sharp ding, a small pebble shot out. Zhao Jinsheng’s sword was knocked from his grip, spinning in the air. He stared, utterly dumbfounded, at Elder Qiu. The bald elder passed by him. Li Muzhan let out a faint laugh, shifting his weight suddenly, moving a full yard away, and flicking a small pebble from his hand. With a sharp chi sound, the pebble flew toward the bald elder. Chi! Pa! Two crisp sounds followed as another pebble shot out, colliding with Li Muzhan’s projectile, pulverizing it into dust that scattered in the wind. Li Muzhan flickered, appearing behind the bald elder, and thrust his palm out.

With a sharp chi sound, a small stone shot toward the elder’s back. If he had persisted with his palm strike, he would certainly have been hit by the stone; judging by the sound alone, it was formidable—one such strike could snap tendons and break bones, posing a fatal threat. Li Muzhan abruptly shifted his body sideways, taking a step to avoid the pebble, his palm strike remaining unchanged. With a chi! sound, the bald elder was flung backward, flying several yards. Li Muzhan’s palm strike missed by a hair's breadth. The bald elder landed steadily, glanced back, then turned and fled. His lightness skill was excellent, and he quickly became a small black dot in the distance. Li Muzhan and the others tried to give chase, but several small stones were already flying their way. Elder Qiu seemed to possess ten hands; pebbles shot out in rapid succession, like modern bullets, their firing rate intense enough to suffocate them. Zhao Jinsheng had lost his sword, and the three women knew their swords were useless against this. They could only rely on their lightness skills to dodge, pushing themselves to their limits, their minds focused completely—any lapse in concentration would surely result in being struck by a stone. After an unknown length of time, the pebbles suddenly ceased, and Elder Qiu's figure vanished as well. Zhao Jinsheng sighed, his face sullen. Li Muzhan also shook his head, marveling at the pure, refined cultivation of Elder Qiu. The inner force attached to those pebbles was utterly bizarre and unpredictable; some were purely Yin, some purely Yang, some a perfect blend of both, and some carried multiple currents of energy. Yet, he could launch a stone that blasted a person away without causing any discernible injury—this level of internal energy was truly perfected, refined to the utmost. Li Muzhan judged that even if he used his ‘Arrow Control Art,’ he could not manage such an effortlessness in handling such weight. Since everyone had fled, leaving only a few old women and children behind, they naturally would not attack them. They descended the mountain somewhat crestfallen and dejected. Zhao Jinsheng remained unhappy, but within a single day, he recovered. A smile returned to his face, warm and verbose, just as before. This impressed Li Muzhan greatly. He had a broader perspective: in life, how could one expect everything to go one's way? Dissatisfaction was inevitable, and he didn't particularly dwell on it—whether he killed a few more people or a few less made little difference. But Zhao Jinsheng clearly possessed a strong sense of justice. Letting the main culprit escape clearly infuriated and frustrated him, yet he managed to readjust so quickly. That evening, they quickened their pace. The surrounding land was flat, offering visibility for many miles. In the distance, they spotted a small town. Suddenly, they stopped. Standing in the middle of the road about thirty feet ahead was an old man, gazing calmly at the five of them, a strange, enigmatic half-smile on his face. Li Muzhan sighed internally. Finally, he had arrived!