The sunset sank below Mount Hua, and dusk spread through the mountain forests like spilled ink, shrouding the whole world in a murky gray gloom.
At that moment, Lin Pingzhi stumbled along a rugged, winding trail, running for his life. His coarse clothes had been torn to shreds by the brambles, and streaks of blood crisscrossed his grime-covered skin. No one could say how he had ended up in such a wretched state.
After all, Yu Canghai of the Qingcheng Sect—the man who had once tried to wipe out his entire family—had taken the sword manual and immediately returned to Sichuan with his disciples. Surely there should have been no reason for anyone else to make trouble for the Lin family?
But whatever the reason, this was how miserable he was now!
See?
"..."
Huff! Huff!
Huff!
He panted as he ran, glancing back every now and then, his eyes filled with fear and despair. Who knew what he was so afraid of, or what he was trying to escape?
After a long while...
"Hey—!"
"Lin Pingzhi, go on, keep running!"
A hoarse, sinister laugh soon rang out, piercing through the dusk and echoing through the forest as it reached Lin Pingzhi's ears.
"How far do you think you can get?"
"Mount Hua may be vast, but it's easy enough to stop you from going up the mountain!"
As soon as the voice fell silent, a grotesque, hunchbacked man in foreign clothes appeared on the branch of a nearby old pine. He was in his forties or fifties, with a curved sword at his waist and a wooden cane in his hand.
"!!"
When he saw that his pursuer had finally caught up, Lin Pingzhi panted hard, seething with regret.
If only he had stayed hidden for a few more