Li Muzhan shook his head, nocked another arrow, and drew his bow. A series of dark streaks shot out, traversing hundreds of meters to pierce the crowd, eliciting shrieks of agony.
Li Muzhan decided to fast-load three arrows at once, firing them simultaneously. Each arrow struck a different person, moving with lightning speed yet possessing incredible precision, leaving Fan Peiyao dazzled and mesmerized.
This fellow, for all his arrogance and posturing, possessed archery skills that were truly divine and unrivaled. No wonder he had been capable of slaying the notorious Black Eagle Cavalry back then!
In the blink of an eye, Li Muzhan loosed twelve arrows, neutralizing twelve experts and saving a dozen escorts from the caravan. The immediate situation eased slightly.
But nearly a hundred people were besieging the escorts, including numerous masters. Even with his divine archery, Li Muzhan could not kill them all, and two more men fell in quick succession.
Fan Peiyao’s heart seized with pain. (guiding her to disregard) waiting for the Flying Cavalry Camp, she drew her sword, pointed it forward with a sharp cry, “Six Elders, follow me to slay the enemy!”
With that, she leaped out, skimming along the treetops, and plunged into the fray. The six elders followed, soaring out into the encirclement of over a hundred assailants.
Not far behind, they moved with swift agility, reaching the besieged area in moments. The dozen escorts’ spirits lifted. Fan Peiyao’s blade flashed like snow, whirling into a sphere of light that shielded the two men beside her.
The six elders were all formidable martial artists and swiftly shielded the others, stating in deep voices, “You retreat!”
The dozen escorts lacked sufficient martial skill. Seeing this, they quickly backed away, standing back-to-back, huddled within the protective circle formed by the seven, unable to offer aid other than tending to their own wounds.
Li Muzhan remained atop the village canopy, loosing arrow after arrow. In an instant, he struck down ten more men, but then showed a wry smile—his quiver was empty.
This time, he had only brought a single quiver, never expecting to encounter so many foes. With his arrows expended, he could only sigh in frustration, forced to wait for the Flying Cavalry Camp to arrive.
Suddenly, a flicker caught his eye. A middle-aged man materialized like a phantom, stepping onto the village rooftop, coldly appraising Li Muzhan and nodding repeatedly.
Li Muzhan’s hair stood on end, his entire body tightening. He spoke in a deep voice, “Who might you be, sir?”
The middle-aged man stroked his beard and said mildly, “I am the Chief of Taibai Stockade. Who are you, and why do you ambush us?”
Li Muzhan appraised him: a robust figure, a square face with a wide mouth, an imposing countenance, and an aura of effortless authority that immediately marked him as a supreme leader, not to be trifled with.
His eyes were gentle, light flowing within them, and immense internal power emanated from his body, causing his white robe to ripple as if buffeted by the wind, yet at this very moment, he remained utterly still.
Li Muzhan instantly recognized him as an ultimate master, one he could not possibly contend with, and privately cursed his luck.
He hadn't expected the Chief of Taibai Stockade to seek him out—this was a terrible turn of events. All he could do was let out a loud laugh: “So it is the Chief of Taibai Stockade! I have long admired your reputation!”
“Oh?” The Chief stroked his beard and smiled faintly, his dominance palpable. “What reputation do I possess that merits such admiration? Are you a military man?”
Li Muzhan smiled. “Indeed. I am under the Divine Might Battalion, ordered to eradicate Taibai Stockade!”
…………………………………………………………………… “The Fan family!” The Chief sneered and said gravely, “It was the Fan family scheming, wasn’t it?”
Li Muzhan laughed. “I hear the Chief robbed the Fan family’s escort—something about a thousand-year-old ginseng root, is that right?”
“Hmm, you know about that too?” The Chief looked at him strangely. “Little fellow, hearing of a thousand-year-old ginseng, does your heart stir?”
Li Muzhan chuckled. “The Chief jokes. Anyone who snatches such a treasure wouldn’t wait around for others to try and steal it; surely the Chief has already consumed it?”
“Guess.” The Chief suddenly grinned strangely and swiftly retreated.
Just then, the rumbling sound of hooves arrived—the Flying Cavalry Camp had reached the scene, surging forward like a breached floodgate, instantly sweeping toward the Taibai Stockade fighters.
At the same moment, Fan Peiyao, leading the six elders, rushed forward. Her lightness skill was the fastest, placing her ahead of the others. Her expression was anxious as she stared intently toward Li Muzhan’s location.
She knew the Chief’s martial arts were fearsome; if he engaged, the Great Monk would likely face dire peril.
Her sole intention was to rush to his aid and hold the Chief back for a moment, but unexpectedly, her vision blurred, and a palm grew vast before her eyes, arriving instantly. There was no time to evade.
“Bang!” With a muffled thud, she was sent flying, spitting a streak of blood into the air.
“Miss!” The Sixth Elder cried out in alarm and swiftly flew up to catch her mid-air.
At that exact moment, a white shadow flickered, followed by a series of muffled thuds—“Bang!” “Bang!” “Bang*……”—and the six elders were also sent soaring away.
“Audacious villain!” A furious shout rang out, and from the village woods flew a grey shadow, ghosting to the side of the white shadow. The two engaged in battle.
“Bang bang…,” came the sounds of impact as the white shadow and the grey shadow tangled together, fighting from the canopy down to the ground, locked in an inextricable struggle that sent branches scattering.
Li Muzhan leaped to the ground. He could still activate his Yongquan acupoints to employ lightness skill, but because his internal energy was uncontrolled, he could only restrain the force within those two points.
Although both Yongquan points had expanded considerably, they were far inferior to the Dantian Qi Sea in depth and richness. They allowed for ordinary lightness skill but were nowhere near the profound levels.
After landing, he approached Fan Peiyao. Seeing her unconscious, her breath faint, and blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, he knew she was near death.
He sighed inwardly, retrieving several silver needles from his robe and inserting them into her body. Then, cradling her, he turned and fled the scene.
He lamented internally that to save Fan Peiyao, there was no other choice but the Creation Pill (Zaohua Dan). This pill was exceedingly precious, and he hated having to use it today.
It was a pity that the Chief had been so alert earlier. Li Muzhan had used his inner sense to confirm the ginseng hadn't been eaten; he had intended to ask where it was hidden, but the interruption was absolute, a great loss!
At this point, the Flying Cavalry Camp continued their fierce charges. Although the Taibai Stockade men were all skilled fighters, formidable and fierce, they seemed fragile against cavalry. After two waves of attack, the group was shattered, and everyone began fleeing toward the mountains opposite.
Without the Chief of Taibai Stockade leading them, the remaining bandits were easily routed. Their weakness wasn't their inherent strength, but the fundamental difference between an organized army and a rabble of bandits.
The Flying Cavalry Camp’s iron-armored riders trained in military martial arts. While perhaps not as skilled as martial arts masters, they possessed immense strength and employed simple, devastatingly effective techniques. Coupled with the power of formation, when they moved in unison, they were like ten bundled sticks—difficult to break.
These cavalrymen, akin to modern vehicles in their impact, charged forward, momentarily paralyzing even the most courageous men, freezing their bodies and rendering them unable to react. Though the Taibai Stockade fighters were not weak, there were over a hundred cavalrymen. With that overwhelming momentum, they needed little effort; the first charge broke half the Taibai Stockade forces.
In the second wave, the bandits fared even worse. Despite their ferocity, they lacked experience in true battle arrays. Faced with the overwhelming morale and might of the cavalry, panic set in.
After two rounds, their courage was broken, their spirits dampened, and they focused only on escape, scattering in disarray towards the mountains.
The Right Commander directed the infantry, pursuing them step by step. These foot soldiers were equipped not only with shields and spears but also with archers who could strike from a distance.
Li Muzhan looked down at the unconscious Fan Peiyao and sighed. He took a porcelain bottle from his robe and poured out a Creation Pill, but after a moment’s thought, he put it away. He sat cross-legged beside her and formed hand seals.
Immediately, the surging internal energy surrounding him dissipated. In an instant, the Canghai internal energy within the Sarira surged forth, rapidly circulating throughout his body for one full revolution.
He slowly opened his eyes, shook his head, and sighed. Indeed, the energy membrane had vanished. This membrane was clearly formed by military internal energy, not all internal energy could manifest it.
He turned his gaze toward the two figures opposite—one white shadow and one grey shadow—still locked in a fierce, unresolved struggle.
Li Muzhan understood that this grey shadow was the Fan family’s assassin expert, but sadly, he had emerged too late to save Fan Peiyao.
He dared not delay further. He swiftly applied the Control Crane Fueling Technique (Kong He Tian You Shu), tapping her rapidly a few times. After saving her, his internal energy was somewhat depleted.
While employing the Heavenly Origin Respiration Technique (Tian Yuan Tu Na Shu), he turned to survey his surroundings. The Flying Cavalry Camp men were lazily cleaning the battlefield, punctuated by occasional cries of pain. The Right Commander was nowhere in sight, clearly commanding the pursuit.
………………………………………………………… “Mmm…” With a soft moan, Fan Peiyao opened her bright eyes and saw Li Muzhan’s smiling face.
She asked softly, “Did I die?”
“Not so easy to die,” Li Muzhan laughed, checking her wrist. “Hmm, still weak, you can’t move around yet. Need to rest for a while.”
The touch was warm, soft, and delicate; her skin was like congealed fat, white as ivory. He felt an involuntary stirring within him.
“What happened to me?” Fan Peiyao tried to sit up, pushing against the thick, soft pine needles, but Li Muzhan pressed her down, waving a hand. “Don’t move, you can’t exert yourself now.”
He explained, “You took a palm strike from the Chief; you nearly met the King of Hell.”
“It was him!” Fan Peiyao recalled, thinking of that palm strike—so fast she was utterly powerless to dodge. Recalling it made her entire body go weak.
She had never imagined a single person’s palm technique could be so fast, too quick to evade, leaving only the choice to endure the strike. Against such a palm technique, victory was impossible.
Unless one could be faster than him—but she had never met anyone faster. Unless… she thought of the Great Monk’s archery. Thinking of this, she turned to look at Li Muzhan.
“Who was that?” Li Muzhan turned and pointed toward the opposition.
“...That was my Second Granduncle,” Fan Peiyao murmured quietly.
Li Muzhan nodded. “Mmm, no wonder. It’s a pity he showed up too late!”
With this thought, he turned and approached the group of elders. They were not yet dead. Li Muzhan glanced at one, lifted him up, and turned back toward the village woods.
Fan Peiyao watched his retreating figure with curiosity, staring in the direction he disappeared. After a short while, he emerged carrying the elder and placed him back in his original spot.
Seeing him return, Fan Peiyao quickly asked, “How is Uncle Ren?”
Li Muzhan smiled. “He is fine now. He was badly hurt, but thankfully, he ran into me.”
“You saved me, didn’t you?” Fan Peiyao asked with a smile.
Li Muzhan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, I am your savior. You must repay me!”
“What kind of repayment do you desire?” Fan Peiyao asked, smiling sweetly.
Her face was pale, her beauty striking, and her gentle smile at this moment held a captivating charm that made one want to cherish her. Li Muzhan felt a stirring of desire.
However, his self-control was profound. Although his true nature surfaced, he managed to restrain it, sweeping the impulse away with a mere thought, easily accomplished.
Li Muzhan teased her with a chuckle but remained silent.
Fan Peiyao’s delicate face suddenly flushed a deep red, dazzling as if intoxicated. She shot him a sharp glare, understanding his meaning: having nothing else to offer, she would give herself.
She huffed, “Aren’t you going to check on the Right Commander?”
Li Muzhan nodded. “That was my intention!” Miss Fan, don’t move. I’ll be right back!”
“Mmm, go ahead. I’m fine,” Fan Peiyao nodded gently.
……………………………………………………，
Li Muzhan smiled at her. Although the Fan family was unremarkable and their subordinates arrogant, this Miss Fan was exceptional—well-mannered, gentle in disposition, and capable of restraint even when annoyed. This was truly commendable.
Were he in her position, with her family background and environment, it would be hard not to become irritable and overly arrogant. He would not be this mild.
He flickered away, swift as a phantom, appearing a dozen zhang away. Two more flashes, and he was among the military, near the wounded.
The Flying Cavalry Camp men were all clad in iron armor; even when injured, their wounds were limited, posing no immediate threat to life. Only one man was unlucky: his neck had been struck, making breathing difficult. He was near death.
A dozen men surrounded him, watching him lie on the ground, blood staining his neck, his body convulsing, his eyes wide open, filled with unwillingness and regret.
Their hearts ached terribly, yet they could do nothing. They removed their helmets one by one, their faces grim.
Li Muzhan floated over and said in a deep voice, “You all step aside. I will do it!”
Someone called out, “It’s you, Ming Kong! Can you save Old Song?”
Li Muzhan nodded. “Yes, I can!”
He added in a deep voice, “I need to use a secret method to save him. You must turn your backs and form a circle to block others!”
“Is that true or not? Can you really save Old Song?” someone asked doubtfully.
Li Muzhan waved his hand. “More nonsense, and I won’t be able to save him!”
“Listen to Ming Kong! Everyone turn around!” a burly man commanded gravely.
They complied, turning their backs, shoulder to shoulder, forming a screen that enveloped Li Muzhan and the wounded man. No one saw what was happening inside.
Some, however, were curious and subtly turned their heads, glancing with their peripheral vision. They saw Li Muzhan sit cross-legged, form hand seals, then adopt a strange posture, tapping a few times lightly.
Instantly, Li Muzhan’s face turned pale, and his body swayed slightly, as if about to collapse.
The comrade on the ground stopped twitching, and the bleeding ceased. Alarmed, they quickly turned back. Bending down to check, they felt Old Song’s pulse was strong, his breathing steady—he had fallen asleep!