Chapter 341
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Once that group of riders had gone far, Zhang Xiaohua still didn’t withdraw his divine sense. He simply followed them from a distance, wanting to see what exactly they were up to.
“Yeah, I was just walking peacefully on my own, I didn’t provoke anyone, yet you dare to glare at me so viciously. Just because you don’t like the look of me, does that mean you want to hack me off my horse? Seriously, all I want is to go home—why is that so hard? If I’m not getting robbed, I’m being harassed. And you lot still have the gall to glare at me like that!”
“Is this what the martial world is? A place where drawing your blade is the answer to a bad mood? A place where people kill and steal over a bit of gain? A world soaked in blood at every turn, where only a clenched fist can protect you?”
One question after another rose from his heart, filling Zhang Xiaohua’s eyes with confusion. Was this really the martial world he had left Guo Village to find, the one he had searched for so painstakingly?
But then again, perhaps it was only natural. Hadn’t the ancients said it best: Those inside the city want to get out; those outside want to get in? The people within and without the city always envy one another, desperately wanting to live each other’s lives. That life you haven’t yet lived is always full of allure and novelty—but once you finally break through and start living it, only then do you realize the taste of it is nothing like what you imagined, and the price is far more than you can bear.
Thinking back on his years in the martial world, he had seen more than his share of schemes, shadows, and slaughter—Ou Yan’s ambush, the destruction of the Piaomiao Sect, the evils of West Cui Mountain, the silencing killings of the Heaven’s Way Alliance. But he had also seen much of familial affection, love, justice, and principle—Great Sister Qin of Mingcui Hall and her steadfast love, the unwavering bond between Sect Master Ou of Piaomiao Sect and his wife—all had left deep impressions on him. Most importantly, if not for this martial world, how could he have met Meng? That sweet girl who brought a warm sweetness to his heart every time he thought of her!
And besides, if he hadn’t left Guo Village, how would he have had such encounters—how could he have learned cultivation techniques, or mastered those wondrous immortal arts?
In that instant, Zhang Xiaohua smiled. The road lay beneath his feet—whichever way he walked was his own choice. Since he had already stepped into the martial world, he had to get used to its rules. And if he didn’t want to abide by other people’s rules, then he needed overwhelming strength to establish his own order, to make others follow his rules.
Just like what had happened earlier, if it had been the Zhang Xiaohua who had never left Guo Village, others wouldn’t even have spared him a glance. He would’ve been no more than a kitten or chick—something a wave of the blade could easily do away with. If it had been the Zhang Xiaohua from four years ago, sure, someone might have glared at him, maybe even dismounted to hack him down—but what could he have done? Run with Qinggong, of course. Thankfully, he had learned the Piaomiao Step.
But now? Sure, others still glared, maybe even wanted to dismount and strike—but was he afraid? Wasn’t there a faint thrill rising in his heart, almost hoping they would come at him? Didn’t he still want to cut down everything that displeased his eyes? Even now, though those riders had gone far, he was still tailing them with divine sense, probing their depths without them even knowing!
What did that mean? It meant that with great martial strength came a matching power to speak and be heard—the power to control others’ fates, the birth of ambitions and desires beyond those of common men.
“This martial world is no longer the one it used to be!”
Zhang Xiaohua abruptly withdrew his divine sense. It seemed he’d come to some understanding. A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips. He casually twirled the longsword in his hand and walked on calmly beneath the autumn sun.
Winter days were always tinged with poetry, and the afternoon sunlight lingered long. It had been a long time since Zhang Xiaohua enjoyed such peace. His heart was tranquil, as though he had entered a state of still water and unmoving depths. He felt truly at ease in this moment, as if this seemingly dull road held a certain rhythm, a quiet charm. Even the long journey ahead didn’t feel far, not until the setting sun stretched out the shadows of him and Huanhuan far across the ground, not until the sun dipped behind the hills, the moon peeked out, and stars glittered in the sky—through it all, Xiaohua never opened his squinted eyes.
But just then, a sudden clang of clashing weapons rang out from the distance, utterly shattering the mountain’s serenity and the peacefulness of the night sky.
Zhang Xiaohua’s eyes snapped open. A flicker of anger lit up within them. Wasn’t he just beginning to relax, only to be interrupted again? How annoying. He looked ahead—far in the distance, under the dusky twilight—wasn’t that smoke rising faintly in the air? The very place where the weapons had clashed? If not for how quiet the wilderness was, the sound wouldn’t have traveled so far.
But as soon as Zhang Xiaohua sent out his divine sense and saw what was happening over there, guess what?
Zhang Xiaohua was absolutely fed up!!!
It was as if a voice instantly exploded in his chest, like a tiny hand reached up from his throat—he looked up to the sky and shouted: “Heavens! Are you messing with me?!”
“I… I’ve run into another—bandit ambush!?”
“What’s happened to this world?”
Indeed—within his divine sense, far in the distance by a few campfires, the luxurious carriage they had seen earlier now stood there all alone. The horses pulling it had already been hacked down, lying lifeless on the ground. The coachman was either dead or had fled—who could say? As for the eight previously arrogant bodyguards, they were now surrounded and being beaten by several dozen men in matching outfits. And those very men—weren’t they the ones Zhang Xiaohua had encountered earlier that afternoon?
“So this is the martial world!”
Zhang Xiaohua couldn’t help but recall his earlier realization.
Just like the martial world itself, things often spiraled out of your control. Even if you didn’t want to get involved, you always seemed to stumble into something.
So now what? Do you step in or not?
Honestly, Zhang Xiaohua was already feeling a bit sick of it all. Killing—it had to take a toll at some point, didn’t it? But look at the ruthless way those attackers fought. If he did step in, how could it possibly end without bloodshed? Or rather, now that he’d stumbled into this, how could they let him go without silencing him?
At that thought, Zhang Xiaohua almost turned his horse around—ah, no—his mule around, and headed back the way he came.
“All I want is to go home peacefully, not to stir up trouble! Heaven above, do I look like some mischievous brat to you?”
But that scene ahead lay directly in his path. Who could say where those—let’s just call them the bad guys for now—where would they go after finishing their work? Who could say who was right and who was wrong in this mess? Who could say if, after finishing their killing, they’d head his way?
“If things go as expected, they’ll probably turn back this way. And when they do, won’t I run right into them? And since I’m heading in the same direction as their blade, would they really let me go?”
Hide off the road? Escape underground?
A few thoughts flickered through Zhang Xiaohua’s mind, but he immediately rejected them. Right—just who was he now? A cultivator of the Immortal Dao! How could he possibly be afraid of a bunch of petty martial artists? Judging from the way they acted, they were nothing more than jumped-up nobodies—and he should avoid the likes of them?
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get involved—it’s just that he’d encountered so many of these situations along the way that he’d grown weary of it all. But if he kept running like this, wouldn’t that be a complete disgrace to the Immortal Dao?
If Fire Dragon True Person found out, wouldn’t he leap out from the nine springs just to curse him?
With a soft sigh, Zhang Xiaohua had no choice but to temporarily—if reluctantly—accept the heavenly mandate laid upon him: to punish the strong and aid the weak, to act in the face of injustice. He extended his divine sense once more, sat atop his Sibu Xiang, and continued forward at the same pace as before.
“Hopefully, they’ll just go on killing each other, finish their grudges quickly, and get out of the way. Then by the time I pass through, they’ll all be gone. Best for both sides.”
That was Zhang Xiaohua’s hope.
But those eight bodyguards turned out to be surprisingly skilled, managing to hold out for quite a while—even longer than it took Zhang Xiaohua to ride a good distance forward—before finally, “reluctantly”, departing this colorful world.
By now, the curtain of the luxurious carriage had been pulled aside, revealing the terrified Little Orange inside. The once-lively girl was already paralyzed by the bloodshed before her—her whole body shaking violently like a sifter in the wind. Yet even in this state, she still stood firmly in front, shielding a girl even smaller and weaker than herself. This second girl’s skin was dark, making her look like nothing more than a little peasant girl.
That younger girl, though thin and frail, had a delicate, oval-shaped face and a pair of bright, jet-black eyes. While there was a hint of confusion in them, they held none of Little Orange’s fear or panic.
Sensing the two young girls through his divine sense, Zhang Xiaohua was slightly taken aback. It seemed this young lady was no ordinary person, surrounded by wolves and tigers as she was, and yet able to remain so composed. Clearly, her background was anything but simple.
Just then, the Sibu Xiang beneath him let out a low cry and suddenly picked up speed. Zhang Xiaohua found it odd—but it did remind him: hadn’t he asked those people a question earlier in the day? And now he was just going to ignore it? Wouldn’t that be a bit lacking in social conscience?
With a wry smile, Zhang Xiaohua let Huanhuan trot ahead at its own pace while he reached into his robe, pulled out his small sword, and casually flicked it. The little sword let out a shrill whistle—as if letting out a gleeful cry—and shot forward like lightning toward the scene ahead.
By the carriage, the group of thugs had cleared the area a bit, and now, like a wolf in a grandmother’s cloak, they had encircled the two little girls, neither of whom wore a red hood.
The leader stepped forward with a menacing tone: “Miss Nie, truly sorry to have interrupted your journey. I’m sure someone as clever and refined as yourself already knows what we’re after. I give you my word—if you hand it over, we’ll leave immediately. Neither you nor your maid will be harmed.”
Miss Nie stood behind Little Orange, calm and composed. “And who exactly are you people? How do you know I have anything on me?”
“Ga ga,” The man let out a crude laugh. “Miss Nie wants to trace our background? If you really found out, do you think you’d still walk away alive?”
Miss Nie bit her lip, her thoughts unreadable. Then she asked: “Good sir, I don’t know who you are. But treasure, no matter how precious, is just a lifeless object—it’s not worth more than a human life. I’ll hand it over. But please, would you be willing to make an oath? Would that be acceptable?”
“Haha!” The man said.“If I take the treasure and still harm Miss Nie’s life, then may I die beneath a flying sword.”
“This…” Miss Nie hesitated slightly. “You’re trying to placate me, good sir. What about my maid? Why isn’t she included in your vow?”
“No problem, no problem. If I harm either Miss Nie or this unnamed little maid, then may I die beneath a flying sword.”
But Miss Nie was still uneasy. This thug had strong martial skills—how could some flying sword possibly take his life?
Still, she dared not argue further. After all, she was but a lamb at the slaughter. Whether he made an oath or not, he could take what he wanted by force. Now that he’d offered her this little bit of dignity, she might as well take it.
