Chapter Thirty-Nine: Sniper's Kill

Che Wuyou left the main headquarters of the Xuanqing Sect with a belly full of doubts. Was this matter really over just like that? What had truly transpired? The outcome was entirely outside his expectations.

When he met Liu Lanzhi, he hurriedly recounted everything he had just experienced in detail. Liu Lanzhi listened with equal perplexity; logically, Han Feng should not have appeared at the Xuanqing Sect's main headquarters. Her master had clearly been the first to inform her. How could Han Feng have received the news, and even arrived ahead of her at the sect?

Unable to make sense of it, they chose not to dwell further. Though the issue hadn’t been resolved perfectly, at least it had reached a conclusion. Riding the mounts gifted by the Xuanqing Sect, both feared some unforeseen incident might occur along the way, so they dared not linger and quickly made for Miao Family Village.

As the distance to the village decreased, their taut nerves gradually relaxed. Too much had happened at the Xuanqing Sect, forcing them to be extremely cautious. What if the sect changed its mind, especially Hongshun? Che Wuyou had caused him significant loss; could he really let it go? Though he had refrained from openly pursuing them out of respect for the sect leader, they could not afford to be careless.

Liu Lanzhi’s beloved horse had been killed by Hongshun’s arrow, leaving her gloomy and dispirited throughout the journey. Even as they neared Miao Family Village, her mood remained bleak. She couldn’t help but think, although Hongshun gave the order, Che Wuyou could not be absolved; she couldn’t understand how he could be so ruthless, letting her horse take the arrow for him.

Her horse had been her companion day and night, their hearts long attuned. It was more than a mount—it was a friend. How could Che Wuyou, without a flicker of hesitation, sacrifice her friend for his own life? Had she misjudged him all these years, or was he truly a cold-blooded, heartless person?

Liu Lanzhi’s expression was distant throughout, rarely speaking to Che Wuyou. Even with lingering doubts about the Xuanqing Sect, she kept them to herself. Che Wuyou, not one for words, saw that Liu Lanzhi was quiet and so remained silent as well.

Though they traveled side by side as before, a barrier had formed in Liu Lanzhi’s heart, robbing the journey of its previous ease and enjoyment. Che Wuyou sensed something odd between them, but didn’t think much of it, assuming Liu Lanzhi’s mind was simply occupied with recent events.

Riding into the sunset, they followed the banks of the Lanzhi River upstream, soon arriving before a canyon. This was the final barrier before reaching Miao Family Village. Once through, a vast plain stretched ahead, and the village could be seen from miles away.

Eager to return home, Liu Lanzhi spurred her horse forward, leading the charge into the canyon, with Che Wuyou close behind. They entered swiftly, but just then, a lone rider appeared far ahead, blocking their path.

Seeing the figure’s attire, both slowed their mounts. The rider sat astride a black tiger-steed, his entire body shrouded in black night garb, revealing only a pair of indifferent eyes. As the sun dipped lower, he seemed poised to merge with the shadows of dusk, exuding a sinister, eerie aura. He sat motionless, imposing and steadfast, radiating the presence of a lone warrior holding a pass against thousands.

Che Wuyou and Liu Lanzhi guessed the stranger harbored ill intentions, yet continued toward him; after all, this was the only road home. Perhaps he waited for someone else—they rarely left the village and had no known enemies. Though they had enmity with Hongshun, if he sought revenge, he would have attacked from behind, not blocked their way ahead.

As they drew closer, their tension mounted. Thirty meters, twenty, ten, five… They were within striking distance. Their hearts tightened. Would he attack?

The black-clad man answered with action. Suddenly, a sword gleam burst forth in the dimming sky. The desperate cries of two horses shattered the silence. The sword’s brilliance was not aimed at the riders, but at their mounts. His technique was exquisite, his swordplay bizarre. Though their horses were first-tier demon beasts with stubborn vitality, both were slain in an instant.

Forced from their saddles, Che Wuyou and Liu Lanzhi stared in shock. The stranger was indeed targeting them. Yet their astonishment was not merely at being his target, but at his formidable strength. His swordsmanship rivaled that of Liu Lanzhi’s master, Miao Shilin. How could such a terrifying figure appear in this remote place, and why would someone of his caliber trouble two insignificant youths?

The black-clad man dismounted gracefully and approached, step by step. His stride carried a peculiar rhythm, each footfall seeming to weigh heavily on their hearts, constricting their breath.

“Wait, elder! You must be mistaken; we bear you no grudge. Why do you seek to harm us?” Che Wuyou protested, unwilling to die so senselessly at this man’s hands.

“You deserve to die,” the stranger rasped, abruptly accelerating toward them. His sword flashed like a rainbow, dazzling and mesmerizing, accompanied by a mournful whisper, sweeping swiftly toward their throats—merciless, intent on killing.

Liu Lanzhi was shocked; this man was a lifelong adversary. She instantly wielded her sword, tip rising to intercept his attack. The stranger, recognizing the move would not succeed, twisted his wrist midway, abruptly redirecting the blade from her throat to her left shoulder. The change was swift and seamless, giving the illusion that the original target had always been her shoulder.

A cold sweat broke over Liu Lanzhi; she retreated rapidly, but it was a moment too late. Blood blossomed from her left shoulder, vivid and poignant.

The icy blade forced Liu Lanzhi back, then swept without pause toward Che Wuyou’s throat—he sought a double kill. As Liu Lanzhi retreated, Che Wuyou also stepped back; if she couldn’t withstand the attack, how could he? The sword tip grazed his throat, leaving a faint chill. Che Wuyou silently wiped cold sweat from his brow—so close.

The stranger uttered a surprised “Hm?” He hadn’t expected Che Wuyou to evade his sword. Perhaps he thought killing Che Wuyou required no more than an incidental strike, without the need for a separate move.

Liu Lanzhi had hoped her skill would intercept the sword, but this opponent was far stronger than she had anticipated. Seeing the blade sweep toward Che Wuyou after her retreat, regret welled up inside her. She knew Che Wuyou’s abilities were limited, yet she’d only looked out for herself, exposing him to danger. If something happened to him because of her, she would never forgive herself.

She had no time to help, forced to watch as the blade passed Che Wuyou’s throat. In that moment, her heart leapt to her throat. If she could exchange places, she would rather face the sword herself. If time could turn back, she would not retreat. The realization startled her—when had this fool gained such importance in her heart? Could she really value his life above her own? At that moment, she fervently hoped he would survive; if he did, she would let go of everything else.

Che Wuyou withdrew swiftly, escaping the deadly blow. Liu Lanzhi’s tightly clenched hand slowly relaxed, but her heart replayed the scene of Che Wuyou sacrificing her “companion” to save himself, a thorn lodged deep within. If the stranger had attacked Che Wuyou first, would he have retreated just as instantly, leaving her alone? If he had no intention of retreating, how could he have evaded the sword? Had he been planning to back off all along, thus staying unharmed?

The black-clad man’s strength was overwhelming. Within just a handful of moves, both had been wounded several times—though only lightly, their confidence suffered greatly. Although his cultivation was at the early stage of the Returning Origin realm, his power far surpassed Hongshun. Under his relentless attacks, Che Wuyou and Liu Lanzhi had no chance to fight back, forced into passive defense.

Even Liu Lanzhi, proud and resilient, felt a wave of despair. Was this the day she would die? Yet her life was only beginning; so many beautiful things remained unexperienced. She did not want to die.