Battle Zhang Yuying

Gu Chang'an stared at him, speaking slowly:

"But you still investigated."

Chen Qi gave a bitter laugh, his voice low and hoarse:

"My wife was seized by the Firewood Gang ten years ago and made into a 'Medicine Man,' forced to brew medicine and refine their vital blood day and night. She escaped a year ago, but her body was broken and her spirit scattered, barely clinging to life. I swore then: 'If I don't take revenge, I don't deserve to be called a man.'"

These words landed like a heavy hammer, and everyone in the room fell silent.

Zhou Yue clenched his fist, grinding his teeth in a low voice: "These dogs... they truly treat human lives like weeds."

Song Zong took a deep breath, killing intent surfacing in his eyes:

"This matter must be reported to the Director immediately. We need the County Magistrate to order a full investigation and eradicate this tumor of the Firewood Gang! If we let them grow any stronger, Nanning County will fall into chaos!"

Gu Chang'an nodded slowly, his voice steady as iron: "I agree. We'll report back to Director Wang at once."

The group was about to rise and return.

But at that moment, a dense, rapid burst of footsteps suddenly sounded from outside the house, like wind sweeping clouds, carrying a killing intent that surged toward them!

Chen Qi's face changed, draining of all color, his voice trembling slightly:

"It's the Firewood Gang... The one leading them is Zhang Yuying, an Incense Master of Qingzi Hall. I've seen her fight—she's a Ninth Rank Martial Artist, ruthless and merciless!"

"Her strength is among the top of Ninth Rank Martial Artists."

The atmosphere in the room grew taut.

Hands instinctively rested on weapons, breaths steadied, battle intent brewing.

And at that moment, Gu Chang'an quietly activated the system to examine the enemy's data before him.

[Zhang Yuying: Constitution 288]

And his own constitution had already reached 380.

Killing her was no problem at all.

Just then—

The footsteps outside stopped abruptly, landing without a sound, like frost settling on a cold night.

Following that, a clear, indifferent female voice filtered through the worn wooden door into the room. The voice was not loud, but it carried a chilling murderous intent, as cold as a blade slicing across a throat:

"You lot, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit."

"I know you're hiding inside."

"Hand over the pills, and maybe I'll let you live."

Her tone paused.

The next instant, the chill sharpened, and the female voice turned piercing and fierce:

"—Otherwise, I'll make sure you all bleed out on the spot!"

The wind outside seemed to stop with her words.

The air felt frozen, killing intent pressing down like a cold tide.

Inside the room, a moment of silence.

Everyone's breath tightened, and they instinctively gripped their weapons, eyes alert.

Chen Qi's face twisted in panic. He spun around and hissed urgently, "You go! I'll hold her off—"

But before he could finish, Gu Chang'an spoke calmly, his tone unhurried, "No need."

He stepped sideways to the door, gently drawing the long blade at his waist. The blade light was like autumn water, a silent chill spreading through the air.

His expression was flat, his voice low: "I'll hold off Zhang Yuying. You break out."

At these words, Chen Qi could hardly believe his ears:

"You... you want to hold her off alone?" Chen Qi stared at him in disbelief, his voice trembling. "She's an Incense Master of the Firewood Gang, a Peak Ninth Rank Expert. She once fought three Ninth Rank Martial Artists alone and bloodied them all... How could you possibly—"

Song Zong stepped forward, his voice steady as iron: "Brother Gu is also a Ninth Rank Martial Artist, capable of matching Red Wolf Lu Tian."

Chen Qi stood frozen, staring at the young man before him, his heart shaken.

So young, and already a Ninth Rank Martial Artist?

And able to match a fierce bandit like Red Wolf Lu Tian?

This talent... it was truly extraordinary.

But Gu Chang'an said no more. He walked steadily toward the door.

"Break out through the back door. Chen Qi, you lead the way," Liu Wei instructed in a low voice.

"But he's alone—"

"If he says he can hold them off, then he will. We break through the back door." Liu Wei's tone was icy, carrying an absolute trust.

Song Zong glanced at Gu Chang'an and sighed softly. "You young people..."

Just then—

"Boom—!"

The door shuddered violently, the beam groaned, and dust rained down like a storm.

Zhang Yuying had finally lost her patience. Her cold shout rang out like thunder, laced with an unyielding ferocity:

"Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

Before her words faded, the door shattered into pieces, wood chips flying as over a dozen Firewood Gang thugs swarmed in, blades and spears crossing, murderous intent surging!

But—

The moment their front feet crossed the threshold, a flash of cold light streaked through like lightning!

"Shua!"

Gu Chang'an's figure shot forward like an eagle piercing the sky. In the blink of an eye, he plunged into the crowd, his long blade cleaving the air, a crescent arc sweeping out!

"Puff—!"

Three Firewood Gang thugs had no time to react before their throats were slit by the blade's gleam. Blood gushed like a spring, and they fell with shock in their eyes.

The blade light did not cease. Gu Chang'an stepped in a Seven Star pattern, twisting his body, his blade darting like a shuttle, each step a killing stroke!

"He's a Ninth Rank Martial Artist!" one gang member cried out in terror.

Zhang Yuying's eyes turned cold. She snorted, tapped her toes, and rose like a falling willow catkin, her form flashing like lightning into the rain of blood and blades.

Before she arrived, her sword was already there!

"Ding—!"

The long sword left its sheath, cold light spilling forth like frost and snow shadows. A silver serpent of sword light stabbed diagonally toward Gu Chang'an's left ribs!

"Bold!"

Gu Chang'an growled, his Blade Stance shifting abruptly. He reversed his grip and blocked horizontally, his force clashing head-on with the sword's momentum!

"Boom—!"

The shockwave rippled, the gale roared like thunder. Dust and sand exploded for several zhang at the point of their collision, as if a hurricane had swept through. The bricks at the wall's corner cracked and split!

Zhang Yuying drifted backward, landing without a sound. Her long sword pointed forward, the tip still dripping blood. Her posture stood proud as a pine, her aura cold and deep as night.

"You killed my Firewood Gang men, so don't expect to leave alive."

She slowly raised her sword, her eyes gleaming with a chilling light.

"I'll make you—pay blood with blood."

Gu Chang'an said nothing. His blade slanted toward the ground, his robes flapping, his killing intent thickening.

Behind him, the wind stirred again—the sound of the remaining Firewood Gang forming ranks to surround him.

And he—didn't even turn his head.

At the same time, a battle cry erupted from the back door.

Liu Wei, Song Zong, and Zhou Yue broke out amid the chaos, long blades swinging, blazing up like firelight!

"Kill!" Liu Wei roared, cleaving down a guard at the alley mouth, blood splattering the ground.

Chen Qi led the way, his expression grim, guiding the group through the alleys at a sprint, not daring to pause.

Zhou Yue fought while glancing back, seeing the blade light crisscrossing inside the house, the air churning!

Gu Chang'an fought Zhang Yuying alone, his long blade clashing violently with her long sword, cold light intertwining like a dragon and tiger locked in battle!

"Damn, a real Ninth Rank Martial Artist..." he muttered as he ran, clicking his tongue in shock and awe. "This guy's no rookie—he's a freak."

Song Zong's gaze was steady as a mountain, his voice low:

"Don't look back. Young Gu has already stalled Zhang Yuying. We need to hurry, or he won't be able to break free either."

Their group dashed through the alleys, the sounds of battle fading behind them.

And inside the house—

Zhang Yuying's sword shadows wove like a net, so fast they nearly turned to mist, each thrust aimed at a fatal point!

Gu Chang'an neither retreated nor yielded. His footwork was elusive, his blade momentum like wind and thunder, fierce and unmatched!

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