Book 2 Chapter 61: The Quick Wit of the Old Fox - Martial God

Chapter 61: The Quick Wit of the Old Fox The massive blade, gleaming with the intensity of the midday sun, swiftly descended. The tumultuous flashes of the blade spread in an instant, enveloping the four inner-strength masters in its radiance. Suddenly, the engulfed four felt an uncanny sensation. Under the sun's glare, the blade in He Yiming's hand emitted a dazzling light, yet this overwhelming brightness surprisingly felt as gentle as a breeze. The strike seemed far less fierce and formidable than they had anticipated. In their minds, the blade transformed into a sea of clouds, layers upon layers, with clouds rolling over clouds, enveloping one another, culminating in a sea amidst the towering mountains. The Cloud Rain Soaring Technique was an innate skill He Yiming had comprehended, watching the mountain rains and the encircling mists, borrowing insights from the wondrous movements of the Cloud Rain Seal and the mysterious mysticism of the Zhao family brothers' lightweight martial arts. Initially, upon comprehending this technique, he had developed only a lightweight martial art. However, after a long journey and facing two hundred fearless warriors with courage as fierce as tigers, he unexpectedly recaptured the feeling of standing atop a mountain. In that moment, he seemed to have entered a state of enlightenment again, re-experiencing the omnipresent mountain rains and the boundless misty ocean. It was under such circumstances that he successfully integrated this sensation into his blade techniques, wielding the terrifying guandao as if it were cloud, mist, and rain, first sweeping away the two hundred-strong force, then again targeting the two late-stage inner-strength opponents. If, before, it was the two elders trying to entangle Guan Qing and Guo Shaofeng, now, with He Yiming's appearance, the situation was completely reversed. The two bandits desperately clung to the elders, using reckless abandon to keep them ensnared at their side. Having witnessed He Yiming's strike, they dared not face him directly again. They'd rather risk staying by the elders' side than experience being torn apart or bisected. Yet, as He Yiming's blade descended, the four fighting individuals simultaneously froze. They suddenly found that their opponents had vanished. Not only their foes but also their comrades disappeared. Around them, mist enveloped the space, forming a maze-like labyrinth from which they could never seem to escape. He Wude and Xu Yinjie suddenly felt a light but undeniable force touch them, causing them to involuntarily retreat three steps. In those brief steps, everything around them returned to normal. The flashes of the blade had dissipated, leaving just a fleeting, dreamlike memory of clouds and mist, which seemed indelible. Abruptly, the blade's brilliance vanished completely. He Yiming stood, feet apart, blade in hand. A few steps away, Guan Qing and Guo Shaofeng, ringleaders in this assault on Taicang County, staggered drunkenly before collapsing. Their eyes bore no hatred or regret, just sheer bewilderment and disbelief. It seemed they had never anticipated dying in such a manner. "Kill… kill them… fight your way out!" Three deafening cries echoed from an elderly man on the city walls. The old master Cheng Ningsheng had lost all his typical composure, his expression wild. In that moment, his ninth-level inner strength erupted to its peak. He pointed violently at the fleeing bandits, his voice booming loud enough to be heard throughout every corner of Xu's Fortress—even those hiding in caverns: "Guan Qing, Guo Shaofeng, Zhong Wei, Xu Hanbai are dead! The bandits are in disarray! Attack! A reward of thirty taels for each head!" Instantly, the fortress walls were alive with bustling activity, everyone overwhelming with vigor. No more persuasion was needed; anyone capable of moving charged out with reckless abandonment, fearing if they lagged even a second, the glory would be snatched away. He Wude and Xu Yinjie exchanged glances, first startled then understanding. They couldn't help but inwardly admire the old fox of Taicang. Even under such circumstances, his calm and resourcefulness were far beyond their capabilities. Turning their gaze to He Yiming, who stood calmly with his blade, the morning sun casting its light, the young man exuded a majesty akin to magnificent mountains and rivers. Recalling his power to grant death or mercy just moments ago, a rare sense of awe emerged within the two elders. ※※※※ In the backyard of Xu's Fortress, before the rock garden, dozens of people looked at each other in shock. Upon hearing the resounding cry, everyone sensed something unexpected happening outside. Yet, regardless of their guesses, none could have anticipated that He Yiming of the He family had arrived overnight to shift the battle's tide. Though they expected a miracle, their hesitation revealed a deep-rooted patience as the young ones turned their eyes to the second-generation members. He Quanming, Cheng Jiahui, and Xu Xiangqian hesitated; hoping for a miracle, but fearing to wager their family's last hopes on it. He Quanming stamped his foot suddenly and said, "I'll go check the front. Brother Jiahui and Brother Xiangqian, please lead everyone away quickly." "No, I'll go, you all leave," Xu Xiangqian responded without hesitation. He Quanming frowned, "Brother Xiangqian, our He family still has elder brother Quanxin. Losing me won't be a big deal, but can Xu and Cheng families afford to lose you two?" Cheng Jiahui and Xu Xiangqian fell silent, understanding the implications. The three big families had suffered greatly, but the He family, being smaller, didn’t suffer as much structural damage. He Quanxin and the others leaving in advance preserved some hope for revival. On the other hand, the losses of the Xu and Cheng families were colossal. Despite their deep roots and external support, which ensured a certain revival, the absence of core figures like Cheng Jiahui and Xu Xiangqian would inevitably complicate their resurgence. "Second Brother, let me go." He Quanyi suddenly laughed lightly, "Father instructed you to ensure Yihai and Yixuan's safety. I'm counting on you for my wife and nieces." Before he finished his words, he darted out like the wind. He Quanming reached to grab him but missed, turning his face ashen. The task was undoubtedly dangerous, and they knew if he saw the walls breached, with invaders flooding in, his only option was to fight or lead them elsewhere, not return and risk drawing danger to their haven. Cheng Jiahui sighed softly, "Let's go." He nudged Xu Yucai, one of Xu's family's most promising young members. Yucai's face turned grim but silently led the group with already-prepared torches into the cave's darkness. However, just as his first foot touched the steps, an anguished cry echoed: "Guan Qing, Guo Shaofeng, Zhong Wei, Xu Hanbai are dead! The bandits are in disarray! Attack for thirty taels a head!" His foot halted as if chained, refusing to move down another step. Simultaneously, he turned, filled with endless hope, looking up toward the others. Every face showed disbelief, yet each shared one common emotion—undisguised joy. "It's my father's voice, unmistakably," Cheng Jiahui said, trembling with excitement. The steady patriarch of the Cheng family showed none of his usual composure. His eyes sparkled like the stars, shining with brilliant fervor. "How is this possible?" He Quanming murmured. Xu Xiangqian's body trembled uncontrollably, even with his ninth-level inner strength; he couldn't mask his excitement. "It's the old ancestor. It must be the old ancestor," Xu Xiangqian said in a trembling voice, the words seemingly sapping all his strength as his body swayed dizzily. He Quanming and Cheng Jiahui both froze, then asked in a mix of surprise and joy, "Which elder are you referring to?" Taking a deep breath, Xu Xiangqian replied, "Who else but that elder could produce such a howl, and who else could have slain four major leaders in such a short time? The old ancestor must have learned of our Xu family's plight and has personally come to assist." Recalling the overwhelming, awe-inspiring roar, He Quanming and Cheng Jiahui were inclined to believe. Among the three families, only the legendary old ancestor of the Xu family seemed capable of such extraordinary feats. Suddenly, Cheng Jiahui's expression shifted, "This isn't good." He Quanming and Xu Xiangqian looked at him in confusion, puzzled by his unexpected change in demeanor. He Quanming remained indifferent, but Xu Xiangqian's face darkened, cursing internally that, despite being relatives, Cheng seemed intent on watching the Xu Fortress fall. However, no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Cheng Jiahui turned and said, "Listen up, the secret path in Xu's mountain must never be revealed, nor can word of your intent to escape tonight spread. Now, you must all head out and fight the enemy. Kill as many as you can, and do not tarnish the name of the three great families." The realization dawned on He Quanming and Xu Xiangqian at once. They realized that Cheng Ningsheng's shout hadn't been out of uncontrolled excitement, but a calculated move to inform them that the enemy had been defeated and was fleeing. It was a call to rejoin the battle and preserve their reputation by erasing any thoughts of escaping. As the fortress faced imminent collapse, leaving retainers behind while the masters fled was not a big issue, but if word spread, it would significantly impact the families' future restoration. It would deeply chill the hearts of those fighting alongside them today. Understanding the significance, Cheng Jiahui quickly devised a corrective measure. The disciples rushed out, every one fueled by youthful vigor, unwilling to flee as cowards. Given the chance to retaliate, they were eager, fiercely competitive, and determined not to be seen as cowards by their peers. Cheng Jiahui clasped his hands toward Xu Xiangqian and He Quanming, saying, "Gentlemen, please seal the entrance to the secret passage. I'll go on ahead." With that, he outpaced the younger ones, dashing out of the courtyard. He Quanming and Xu Xiangqian exchanged helpless glances, laughing despite themselves. They sealed the secret passage, internally acknowledging that Cheng Jiahui, a fox in his middle years, was indeed his father's son—a true product of the cunning Taicang Fox lineage. Upon reaching the city walls in haste, they were surprised by what they saw. Contrary to their expectations, there was no white-haired elder with an otherworldly aura. Instead, there were their fathers and He Yiming, wielding the massive blade, who had stealthily arrived at Xu’s Fortress. Their gazes darted around but found no one else. Xu Xiangqian suddenly asked, "Why do the bandits flee to both sides, leaving the main road empty? Are they blind?" Unintentional words stirred realization. The three old gentlemen looked forward to where a gruesome scene—a mangled corpses and blood river—lay, uncanny in its desolation. It dawned on them that among thousands of bandits, none dared venture back over the carnage on the main road. Instead, they chose treacherous paths on either side, avoiding the blood-soaked remains. Their gazes shifted back to He Yiming, now with renewed respect. ※※※※ The bandits fled chaotically over every hill. Their spirits crushed, they had no courage left to fight. Even though those pursuing them were just ordinary servants and retainers, inferior in strength, the bandits dared not resist. Flee, flee, flee... Their defeat was total, unstoppable, beyond salvation by any force. With only narrow, winding paths available, the bandits trampled over each other, countless casualties ensued. Yet, none cared at that moment. All that mattered was not being the last, not being caught as the pursuers closed in. Among them, one group maintained some order—thirty men concealed within the thousands. The inner-strength of these thirty was at least level seven, with two protected figures at their center—Lan Hanyang and his wife, the last of the five late-stage inner-strength masters. Initially moving slowly, following the retreating tide, their pace accelerated once they left the worst part of the path, clear of the city walls' watch. They surged forward, resembling startled birds, fleeing Taicang County without rest. "Dear, if not for your shout, our escape might not have been so smooth," Lan Hanyang remarked, taking a deep breath with a wry smile upon reaching safety. The shout that spurred their retreat had been Hai Huijiao’s disguised voice, ensuring their anonymity. As esteemed bandit chiefs, the surprise chaos allowed them to slip away. Otherwise, any focus from the formidable young man would have left them little chance of escape. Looking at his plain attire, Lan Hanyang felt grateful for his wife’s foresight. Without it, their lives might have been forfeited. Remembering the fate of his peers sent a chill through his heart. Hai Huijiao sighed, glimpsing their trail, saying softly, "This defeat may be a blessing in disguise for us." "You mean?" Lan Hanyang asked, intrigued. Hai Huijiao nodded slightly, "Banditry offers fleeting thrills but isn't sustainable. This unexpected loss provides the perfect opportunity to leave it behind." Lan Hanyang's lips twitched reluctantly. Hai Huijiao insisted, "Husband, you saw Guan Qing's end. If that man grows resentful and seeks us out, what then?" Lan Hanyang shuddered, conceding quickly, "Alright, as you say, we shall not return." Hai Huijiao softened her tone, "We've amassed wealth over the years. Let's leave it all behind now." Lan Hanyang nodded slightly, glancing back, a cold tremor quashing his last flutter of persistent thinking.