Inside the dilapidated temple, a group of ill-tempered fellows were gathered around a meagerly burning fire, the aroma of roasting meat hinting at a purpose beyond mere illumination.

Indeed, in this season, the fire also served to keep insects at bay.

When Ning Ruxue and Ye Wen entered, the men’s gazes immediately fixed upon them, most of the attention—and the predatory intent behind it—settling on Ning Ruxue, making her deeply uncomfortable.

Yet, she betrayed nothing outwardly. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker missed by everyone, even Ye Wen standing beside her.

“A moment of dire need on the Jianghu, we ask for your consideration.”

Though this was unclaimed territory, there was still an unspoken code of 'first come, first served,' especially in these times. Thus, even knowing the place didn't belong to them, a courtesy greeting was prudent to avoid needless conflict.

Ye Wen understood these nuances, but since his junior sister was stepping forward, he was content to remain silent. Furthermore, from his observations, the looks these men cast their way were far from friendly.

“Tsk. Another one of those cliché plotlines that every Transmigrator must endure? It’s like a tutorial battle.”

He grumbled inwardly, applying slight pressure to his chest. Though a dull ache persisted, it wasn't crippling. If a real fight broke out, he wouldn’t be entirely helpless.

Perhaps Ye Wen's thoughts were slightly small-minded, but in this unfamiliar environment, caution was paramount; he chose to anticipate the worst in others.

Moreover, the way these gentlemen were looking at his junior sister reminded him of the disgusting stares he’d seen from lowlifes while roughing it on the streets back home.

He even recalled a past incident, born from a similar scenario, that had escalated into a major brawl. While they had been in the right that time, sometimes righteousness alone wasn't enough.

Now, having transmigrated to a world clearly more chaotic than his own, the restraint of law and order upon wicked men must be practically nonexistent—evidenced by the fact that they could wander the streets armed, and the constables hadn't bothered them, nor had the innkeeper reported them upon seeing their weapons.

Based on the historical common sense in his mind, virtually every dynasty strictly regulated weaponry; periods lacking effective control over such items were invariably turbulent eras.

Thus, from his observations and deductions over the past two days, Ye Wen concluded that the current state of the realm was far less peaceful than the apparent calm of Shushan County.

On the journey here, he had obliquely discussed the current state of affairs with his junior sister, learning that while the ruling class remained firmly seated, bandits and brigands were plentiful. News of new outlaws or the capture and execution of famous thieves surfaced constantly.

In such an environment, a group whose appearance and gazes were distinctly hostile naturally demanded Ye Wen’s utmost vigilance.

Just as he debated whether to pull his junior sister away and seek rest elsewhere, Ning Ruxue tugged his sleeve, drawing him into a shadowy corner of the room.

It seemed Ning Ruxue was supremely confident in her martial prowess, unafraid that these villains would dare make a move.

Perhaps in her mind, if these men remained passive, fine. But if they harbored ill intent, it was likely they would be slaughtered tonight, a small service rendered to the populace.

Though she hadn't voiced these thoughts to Ye Wen, based on her current demeanor, he guessed her intentions with reasonable accuracy.

And indeed, what followed was largely as Ye Wen predicted. Initially, the ruffians maintained a truce, perhaps respecting the weapons and the bearing of martial artists suggested by their bearing and conversation, wanting to avoid unnecessary trouble.

However, once the gentlemen had consumed some liquor and meat, emboldened perhaps—

Or maybe noticing that Ye Wen was injured and seemed less mobile—they huddled together, whispered a few words, and then an old, yet perpetually recurring, scene began to unfold before Ye Wen in fiery detail.

“Brat, I’m in a good mood today, don't feel like killing. Scram, now!”

The leading man swung a large saber backward. It wasn't any treasured artifact; the blade was visibly nicked and pitted from long use.

Yet, this fact suggested the man was not easily dealt with. Such wear implied numerous past confrontations, and his very presence indicated either formidable skill or some hidden means of survival.

Whichever the case, neither possibility boded well for Ye Wen and Ning Ruxue.

Ye Wen perceived this, and so did Ning Ruxue. After all, her upbringing had been far harsher than Ye Wen’s. Conversely, the original 'Senior Brother' was a man who buried his head in books, ignorant of worldly affairs and quite unfamiliar with Jianghu experience.

And in Ning Ruxue's heart, her Senior Brother remained that naive fool. Worse, he was injured, and afflicted with the Soul-Separation sickness, unable to recall even his own identity.

Under such circumstances, engaging in combat was likely courting disaster—especially since her Senior Brother's own skills were mediocre at best; she dared not let him fight.

So, she murmured quietly, “If a fight breaks out, stay here and don't move.” Realizing that sounded insufficient, she amended, “Better yet, find a safe place to hide.”

In her mind, if her Senior Brother agreed, fine. If he refused, it would be even harder, as she suspected he wouldn't agree—he’d most likely try to reason with these 'gentlemen,' hoping to convert them into righteous followers on the spot.

To her surprise, since contracting the Soul-Separation sickness, her Senior Brother seemed transformed. His reply startled her.

“I understand. If conflict arises, just strike them down; don't worry about me. I know how to protect myself…”

The word 'strike' made Ning Ruxue’s mouth twitch, but a jolt of fear went through her: “Strike people… When did Senior Brother start speaking so bluntly?”

During their brief exchange, the large man opposite had been droning on with meaningless nonsense—mostly promises like, ‘Girl, follow me, and I guarantee you’ll eat well and live in joy without end,’ or threats like, ‘Don’t ask for trouble,’ and ‘I don’t feel like seeing blood today.’

But seeing that the pair hadn't given him a second glance, and with his cronies beginning to jeer, his pride was wounded.

“Old Li, those two brats don't even respect you!”

This shout finally provoked the large man into a rage. He hefted his saber and cursed, “You refuse a toast, so you’ll take a forfeit! Once I chop this pretty boy into eighteen or nineteen pieces, I’ll deal with you, little lady, and let the brothers have some fun too.” He had clearly mistaken Ye Wen and Ning Ruxue for a couple.

Ye Wen paid no mind to the misunderstanding, nor did he care for the final suggestive remark. In his past brawls, he’d heard far harsher things when women were involved.

Even more fiercely, some women had retorted, “We’ll see if all you weaklings together can even handle me…”

But he forgot that he was no longer in his original world, where certain notions were more ‘advanced.’ An ordinary woman facing such blatant harassment might die of shame and anger on the spot. Thus, the utterance by the man named Li acted as the final spark igniting Ning Ruxue’s explosive temper.

Before the words fully settled, Ning Ruxue’s longsword was already drawn, flashing like a streak of light. Ye Wen, standing aside, saw only a burst of white light before a flurry of sword shadows enveloped the large man.

A cascade of sharp clangs followed as their weapons met countless times in an instant.

Logically, no matter how fine a longsword, it shouldn't withstand repeated, direct clashes with a heavy saber. However, every time Ning Ruxue’s blade struck the saber, it met the weakest point of the swing. Though it appeared to be a head-on collision, there was profound technique hidden within.

Ye Wen, watching from the sidelines, broke out in a cold sweat after only a few exchanges. He had initially assumed the martial arts of this world were mediocre. While the concept of Neili (Internal Energy) was mystical, he thought their techniques couldn't possibly surpass what he’d learned (though what he learned wasn't exactly exquisite either).

Even in his original estimation, his imposter junior sister’s skill, while perhaps greater than the original Ye Wen’s, shouldn't be that much superior. Yet now, he calculated that if this junior sister wished to kill the original Senior Brother and seize the sect master position, it would likely take fewer than three moves—a conclusion based on the fragmented memories of martial arts practice flickering in his head.

Just as Ye Wen thought, ‘Thank heavens I haven't offended this young lady these past two days,’ the large man, looking utterly defeated from left to right, was moments from being felled by the sword—Ning Ruxue was intent on executing him for his foul words. He frantically cried out to his brothers for aid: “The metal is too hard! Brothers, help!”

Then, he watched as the men standing by the fire simultaneously drew their weapons and charged forward as a mob.

That in itself was nothing unusual, but some of the thugs, perhaps seeing Ning Ruxue already engaged, figured they wouldn't get a good spot there and veered slightly, heading straight for him instead.

“Damn it, this isn't fair! I haven’t even thrown my hat in yet!”

However, his complaints were useless. His body reacted faster than his brain. He snatched a piece of stone from a breach in the nearby wall and flung it backward in one smooth motion.

The stone launched with blinding, impossible speed, striking the face of the lead attacker—who, poor fellow, hadn't even announced his name or gotten a threat out—knocking him instantly unconscious and dropping him lifelessly to the ground.