Hunting, Mountain Bandits

Dawn broke, the sky barely light.

In the southern part of Nanning County, Guangfu Ward was still shrouded in a thin layer of mist.

The streets and alleys were quiet and damp, dew still clinging to the roof tiles.

With a creak, the courtyard door pushed open, and a figure slowly stepped out from the low house.

Gu Chang'an was dressed in a gray-blue short tunic today, the cloth washed clean and crisp, sleeves tightly bound, a dark brown leather belt cinched at his waist.

A plain longsword hung across it, the scabbard old and dull, yet neatly kept.

He wore beast-hide short boots, his stride steady as a mountain, his posture straight and tall, like a veteran soldier.

Compared to the gaunt refugee he had been a month ago, now his back was broad, his shoulders wide, his build solid, his walk carrying a breeze, and his every move already carried a hint of pressure.

He looked up at the sky, exhaled a puff of white breath, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Brother Chang'an, morning! Going hunting again?" From behind the left courtyard wall, a small head poked out—a five- or six-year-old neighbor boy, A Bao, his face round, still clutching an unfinished cornbread.

Gu Chang'an walked over, smiling as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Mm, the moon was bright last night, so there'll be plenty of game today. I'll bring you back a rabbit for stew."

A Bao jumped three feet in the air with joy, then turned and shouted into the house, "Mom! Brother Chang'an's bringing meat home again today!"

A few nearby neighbors had also risen to light their fires, and as soon as they saw Gu Chang'an heading out, they called out greetings.

"Chang'an, that badger from a few days ago was really tasty. My kid licked the bowl clean."

"Be careful hunting. I heard there've been some in the mountains lately."

"Safe travels. Come back for a bowl of ginger tea!"

"..."

Facing these well-meaning greetings, Gu Chang'an nodded and smiled in response one by one.

He passed through the ward, and everyone turned to nod at him.

These neighbors had originally held no goodwill toward him, a man of refugee origin, but over the past month, whenever Gu Chang'an returned from hunting with too much meat, he would clean and dress the extra rabbits, chickens, badgers, and the like, then share them with the neighbors.

On ordinary days, he didn't stir up trouble, spoke little, but kept his word.

Thus, over time, he had built a warm and simple bond with these people.

Some whispered privately that this Gu lad, though poor in birth, had a heart and ability, and if he ever made something of himself, he wouldn't forget his roots.

Gu Chang'an himself knew that this small kindness was just one part of steadying his footing.

"In this city, if you want to survive, you can't let people fear your death, nor can you let them wish for it."

He pointed toward the forested hills outside the ward, adjusted his backpack and bow case, and set off along the familiar path on his hunting journey.

In the forest, moss was slick, tree shadows uneven. Gu Chang'an tread the familiar route, moving like a fish through the woods.

His body was light and quick, his steps landing almost soundlessly, his footwork nimble yet steady—thanks to a month of diligent practice in [Flowing Wind Steps].

Now, though he couldn't yet walk on snow without leaving a trace, he could dash through the forest without startling the beasts.

A breeze passed, leaves trembled slightly. Gu Chang'an stopped abruptly, tilting his ear to listen.

"Rustle—"

A faint sound came from the grass. He slowly bent down, his hand already resting on the longbow at his side, his movements practiced.

The next moment, with a swish, he drew a three-edged arrow from behind his back, nocked it, and held it ready.

"Shh-shh..." A gray-furred hare darted out. Before it could leap, a cold gleam shot through the branches.

The sharp arrow struck the hare's neck. It tumbled twice and died in the woods.

Gu Chang'an strode forward, picked up the prey, and stowed it in his backpack, his expression calm. Such game was now easy pickings for him.

But he didn't linger. He turned and leaped onto a rocky outcrop, his form agile, his gaze sweeping into the distance.

Though this forest wasn't extremely dangerous, it wasn't entirely safe either.

According to the old hunters at the foot of the mountain, the farther north you went, the mountains held not only beasts but occasionally traces of yao.

Gu Chang'an's physique had reached a hundred points, his strength astonishing, but he still held reverence for yao.

Thus, he wouldn't recklessly venture deep, only hunting within familiar territory.

Time passed quickly.

It was now noon.

He moved slowly, sharp-eyed and quick-handed, bagging three more mountain hares, two badgers, and two pheasants.

Just as he was about to turn back, he suddenly heard a burst of urgent bird calls from the dense forest to the west.

His heart stirred, and like a civet cat, he leaped into the shadows of the trees, creeping forward.

A dozen zhang later, he parted the vines and his pupils instantly contracted—

Ahead in the forest, a grayish-green wild boar was rooting through the woodland, its tusks like hooks, muscles knotted.

It stood half a man's height, its small eyes glowing red, a faint bloody aura rising from its body.

[Wild Boar].

Gu Chang'an's heart jolted. This was a mildly demonized beast—thick-skinned, dense-fleshed, swift as the wind, and devastating in its charge.

An ordinary hunter would have no choice but to flee. But he felt a flicker of eagerness to test himself.

He slowly drew the long saber from his back, the [Iron Cutting Saber Technique] cycling through his mind, his breath steady and cold as ice.

He stamped off the ground and burst from the shadow of the trees!

The wild boar sensed him instantly, let out a deafening roar, dug its hooves into the earth, and charged with a flash of Blood Light, like a thunderbolt crashing forward!

Gu Chang'an met it coldly, refusing to dodge, saber raised!

Clang—!!

The impact rang like a bell. The long saber struck the boar's neck but only carved a few inches into its Flesh and Blood.

The recoil numbed his tiger's mouth slightly.

"Tough hide!"

The boar roared again, spun, and rammed him. Gu Chang'an planted his left foot, activated [Flowing Wind Steps], and sidestepped—barely evading the charge!

He used the momentum to circle behind its flank, his form like a shadow, pouring all his strength into the long saber.

"Hah—!"

Iron Cutting Saber Technique!

The essence of the technique erupted. The blade's gleam turned biting cold, slicing through the air!

Thwack!

The long saber, like a thunderbolt, finally tore through the boar's shoulder and neck. Blood sprayed. The boar shrieked in agony, rolled, and collapsed!

It twitched a few times, then lay still.

Gu Chang'an sheathed his saber, panting. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his Qi and blood surging.

He stared at the boar's corpse, his eyes no longer holding simple joy.

"Good. This boar should fetch a decent price—probably over a thousand coppers."

"And I'm getting more and more used to this world."

He slowly tied the boar up, loaded it onto the drag sled he'd made, and prepared to haul it back to Guangfu Ward.

Then, dragging a Blood-Tusked Wild Boar behind him, he made his way slowly along the trail he'd come from.

Suddenly—

A sharp stench of blood wafted through the wind, mixed with the clatter of hooves, shouts, and the clash of blades!

Gu Chang'an's heart tightened. He stopped dead.

He immediately dropped the boar, crouched low, and slipped into the thorny brush beside the mountain path in a few quick moves. He scrambled up an old pine tree.

From the high vantage, he peered through the gaps in the dense forest toward the distant mountain road.

—It was a trade route leading to western Nanning County.

In his view, wagons lay overturned, wheels broken, crates shattered, goods scattered everywhere.

A group of mountain bandits in cloth armor, long sabers at their waists, were besieging a merchant escort of about a dozen men.

Torches burned. Carts crackled in the flames. A few panicked mules screamed and bolted.

A broad-shouldered, thick-waisted man in Black Armor stood amid the chaos, a Broad Back Saber in his hand dripping blood. On the chest of his armor was an embroidered, roaring Tiger Head Emblem.

Gu Chang'an's eyes narrowed. He recognized that emblem—

Black Tiger Stockade.

The largest bandit force across dozens of miles of Jiangnan's mountain ranges, entrenched atop Green Fang Mountain, preying exclusively on wealthy merchants and cargo convoys.

And this man before him was infamous—ranked 12th on Nanning County's Most Wanted List, the Fifth Chief of Black Tiger Stockade: Ma Dahu.

[Ma Dahu: Physique 286]

Seeing this, Gu Chang'an held his breath, not daring to make a sound.

He knew that although his own physique had broken past a hundred, Compared to a powerhouse like this, he was like a child facing a tiger—no chance of victory.

And they had numbers on their side.

On the mountain road, the killing grew fiercer.

A few guards still fought back, but their strength was spent. The bandits had them surrounded.

"Hahaha! You dogs think you can protect the goods?"

Ma Dahu laughed, stepped forward, and swung his saber in a horizontal arc. Blood splattered. Two guards fell, convulsing.

"Search! Dig everything out! Medicine, salt packs, cotton cloth, copper coins—take it all!"

The bandits cheered and surged forward, ransacking crates, shoving wagons over, and cutting ropes.

Some even cut off the dead merchants' boots, belts, and even their teeth and earrings.

Screams and wails mingled with the firelight and Blade Light, like a scene from hell.

Half an hour later, the bandits finally finished looting. Ma Dahu let out a loud laugh:

"Good work! Retreat!"

The gang of bandits, carrying bundles, stepping over mangled corpses, leading horses and hauling goods, roared off into the dense forest path.

Soon, only the blazing fire, the shattered wagons, and splatters of blood remained.

Gu Chang'an waited silently in the tree for a long time, until there was no more movement. Only then did he quietly climb down, drag his prey, take a roundabout path, and silently return to the workshop.

He glanced back toward the direction of the mountain path, his eyes calm as still water:

"This world is more chaotic and more dangerous than I imagined..."

"If I want to survive, I not only need to grow stronger, but also stay calmer."

He lowered his head and walked away quickly, leaving not a trace behind.

As for going there to scavenge the corpses?

He wouldn't dare take such a risk. If those bandits suddenly came back, he'd be dead for sure.

Right now, the most important thing was to lie low.

Lying low meant invincibility.

Lying low meant eternal life.