Chapter 35

Jade Fish's style was to leave your mind clear while your body became uncontrollable at the moment of passage. Bai Lang had tumbled straight through, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and holding two Purple Gold Maces. He'd been testing his body's defenses by taking beatings, and hadn't expected to cross over. Just before he hit the ground, Bai Lang let out a shout and planted his feet in a horse stance, avoiding a face-first fall.

Once he'd steadied himself, he looked around. "What the hell is going on?" Before him lay a gruesome scene unlike anything he'd ever seen in either of his lives: a dilapidated village, with corpses scattered among the ruins. One glance was enough to tell they'd been brutally murdered. "Ancient times?" Bai Lang frowned, his face full of sorrow. "They've got their hair in topknots, so it must be ancient times. If this were modern times, it'd be a disaster." The ruined houses alone made that obvious.

The question was, what era was this? The murdered villagers wore no clothes, and what little they did have was so tattered that Bai Lang couldn't find anything to wear. But he'd already passed the third level of Golden Bell Shield, and the cold and heat barely affected him. Fighting back his nausea, Bai Lang searched the village, doing a good deed along the way by gathering up the bodies. With his tremendous strength, he dug a large pit nearby, using a piece of wood and his internal energy. There were no shovels, after all.

The villagers' bodies hadn't decomposed much, since the weather was still cold. Bai Lang laid them all in the pit. "There are children, too. And this way of killing..." An unquenchable rage blazed in his chest. No one had been spared, young or old, male or female. The women and children had been tortured and murdered. Such a horrific scene stirred a fury in Bai Lang as fierce as a tiger or leopard's. His steps had grown lighter and lighter. Though tall and powerfully built, he moved without a sound, like a massive beast stalking through the woods.

Bai Lang gathered the corpses one by one. As time passed, his movements grew gentler and quieter, and he seemed more and more like a big cat. When he laid the last body in the pit, he swept his twin maces sideways, driving the surrounding earth into it until it formed a mound. "I still don't know the name of this village, but I do know what era this is. Turns out it's the Chongzhen era of the Great Ming. This half-burned almanac says it's the fifteenth year of Chongzhen."

Bai Lang found nothing else here besides the half almanac; all he'd done was bury the dead. He checked the sun to determine his direction. Jade Fish had already turned up again, hanging around his neck. "Another ten years this time, huh? As if anyone would believe it'll really take ten years!" Jade Fish had definitely been messing with him. He hadn't even needed to look for it; it had been lying on the ground, sparkling within three steps of him.

Knowing this was the Chongzhen era explained the massacre well enough. It could have been bandits or rebels, perhaps even Ming troops—or maybe Tartars? Though the last seemed unlikely, since the Tartars would have carried the villagers off rather than kill every able-bodied adult, as had happened here. Bai Lang continued along the road, still wearing nothing but briefs and carrying his twin maces. The fields on either side had been abandoned or burned.

Bai Lang skimmed over the ground with his lightness skill. The world's energy was not particularly active here, but it was much better than in the place Jade Fish had taken him last time. Still, Bai Lang's heart was unsettled, and he would probably have to put his Golden Bell Shield training on hold for now. But there was another way to train: battle. At the moment, he hoped some bandits or rebels would show up so he could vent his anger. No matter how often he'd read descriptions of the late dynasty's misery in books, nothing compared to seeing it with his own eyes.

Bai Lang was every inch a fine-looking man, with a dashing face. His height had been measured back in the modern world, and he seemed to have grown a few more centimeters since returning. Now he stood well over six feet tall, a strapping fellow who would be considered a giant in this late-Ming era. After practicing Golden Bell Shield, his skin was taut and smooth, like silk to the touch. The only problem was that his outfit didn't suit the weather at all. It seemed to be late autumn or early winter—cold enough, but not yet freezing.

In the distance, he could see mountains, and a river flowed nearby. But there were no signs of waterworks, and the land near the river was clearly saline, white with salt. This made Bai Lang think he might be in the north. It certainly wasn't southern Jiangsu; perhaps he was in northern Jiangsu or northern Anhui, or even Shandong or Henan. But he soon had a chance to find out, because he heard voices.

This was another dilapidated village. Bai Lang heard voices inside. "Only five people? That's not what you'd expect in a normal village." He focused his internal energy on his ears and confirmed that there was no one else there besides those five. "Scouts?" He'd have to go take a look to find out. Using the sounds he heard, Bai Lang had pinpointed their positions perfectly. Without another word, he kicked open the rickety gate in front of him. Beyond it lay an abandoned courtyard.

Three men were roasting food over a fire. At the loud crash, they looked toward the sound and swiftly prepared for battle, some reaching for swords, others grabbing bows or firearms. Bai Lang glanced over them. They were clearly no good: their faces were full of ferocity, their eyes gleamed with cruelty, and their clothing was nothing like that of government soldiers. It was all mismatched, and they wore no armor.

The three men were just as baffled by the intruder. The burly man was wearing nothing but a pair of briefs, yet he had a fine physique. He didn't look poor enough to own only a pair of shorts, either, and he wasn't dirty. He even carried a pair of iron maces and had a dignified appearance. Even these veteran bandits couldn't figure out who he was. "So, are you rebels or bandits? Ah, whatever. It's all the same." Bai Lang said no more and strode toward them.

The three men exchanged glances. "Where'd this little bastard come from? Looking to die?" They'd barely gotten the words out when the head of one bandit holding a bow exploded, his eyeballs splattering onto the man beside him. Bai Lang had casually thrown the Purple Gold Mace in his left hand, smashing the bandit's head to pieces. The other two were old hands, too. Without a word, they drew their swords and charged, while another bandit with a bow and one carrying a matchlock ran over from behind.

They thought one slash would be enough to kill Bai Lang, since he wore no armor. But Bai Lang neither dodged nor flinched. He casually took a sword strike, then smashed another veteran bandit in half with the Purple Gold Mace in his right hand. The sword left nothing but a white mark on Bai Lang's body. Before the bandit could react, Bai Lang's tiger claw swept past and ripped his head from his body.