Blood-Soaked Return

Chen Qingzhou's fingertips dug deep into Ye Yun's tunic, blood seeping from between his fingers and blooming into a dark red stain on the grey fabric. His breathing was like a broken bellows, each gasp accompanied by a gurgling sound of blood foam, yet he still stared fixedly into Ye Yun's eyes.

Thank you... friend... for saving me... Chen Qingzhou squeezed out the words with difficulty, a tragic smile pulling at his blood-stained lips. On behalf of... my brothers... thank you... Your great kindness... needs no thanks...

His pupils were already dilating, but he stubbornly refused to pass out. Ye Yun could feel the old constable's rough palm trembling violently, yet he gripped his tunic with all his remaining strength, as if trying to convey some important message.

Yan Xiao Liu knelt beside them, shock and realization alternating in his eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but was stopped by a look from Ye Yun. This usually carefree young Constable now displayed astonishing sharpness—he understood the warning in Ye Yun's eyes and swallowed the words that had reached his lips, merely nodding heavily.

Ye Yun silently took out a celadon medicine bottle from his bosom, and poured out three crimson pills. These were the Yang-Restoring Pills he had learned to make from the True Martial Secret Manual, and while not as potent as the Vermilion Essence Fruit, they had a miraculous effect on the injuries of ordinary martial artists. He put the pills into the mouths of Chen Qingzhou and the two severely injured Constables, then took out golden wound powder to bandage everyone simply.

Ye Yun spoke only one word, his voice deep like muffled thunder. He cast one last look at Yan Xiao Liu, then turned and disappeared into the depths of the dense forest. His black robe fluttered, and his figure vanished like a phantom.

The smell of blood in the forest had yet to dissipate.

Ye Yun circulated Turtle Breath Stillness, his presence as contained as that of a dead tree or a stubborn rock. His footsteps were as light as a feather, each one landing precisely in the gaps between fallen leaves, making not the slightest sound. A hundred paces ahead, the fleeing, burly masked man stumbled forward, intermittent bloodstains gleaming eerily in the moonlight.

The pursuit lasted for about half an hour when the trees ahead suddenly thinned. Through the gaps in the foliage, Ye Yun saw a clearing in the forest—Sun Yu stood with his hands behind his back, his dark blue brocade robe gleaming coldly in the moonlight. The burly masked man knelt before him, reporting something in a low voice.

Useless! Sun Yu suddenly roared with rage and kicked the masked man to the ground. Two 8th Rank martial artists, along with twelve Blood Blade Guards, couldn't even handle a few country Constables?

The masked man struggled to get up, a crack appearing in his bronze mask, revealing pale lips underneath: Young master... a mysterious person intervened... at least Rank Seven strength... Old Seven, he...

Rank Seven? Sun Yu's sinister face flickered with surprise, then turned vicious. Where did a Rank Seven martial artist come from in this backwater village? He paced back and forth, his gold-embroidered boots crushing dry branches on the ground, making a grating sound of snapping.

Ye Yun quietly retreated a few steps and took out several pebbles from his bosom. These ordinary stones became deadly weapons in his hands after being infused with Essence Qi. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting between Sun Yu and the masked man, calculating the best angle for attack.

No matter who it is, those Constables must die! Sun Yu suddenly stopped, tapping his palm with his fan. Can you still fight?

The masked man nodded reluctantly and was about to speak when a whistling sound suddenly filled the air!

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

Seven pebbles shot out like shooting stars, attacking from different angles. The first three black-clothed men were struck before they could even react, their chests pierced by gaping bloody holes the size of bowls, falling dead without even a scream. The remaining pebbles struck four other black-clothed men; only the burly masked man managed to block one with his broken axe, but he was still sent staggering back, spitting blood.

Enemy attack! The remaining black-clothed men shouted in alarm and formed a formation, only to see the second wave of pebbles arrive. This time, Ye Yun aimed for their throats. Five streams of blood spurted out almost simultaneously, and the last five black-clothed men clutched their bleeding necks, falling with incredulous expressions.

In an instant, only Sun Yu and the severely wounded burly masked man remained in the clearing.

The moonlight shone like water on the corpses strewn across the ground. Sun Yu's expression was unpredictable, his fan now unfurled, a faint blue light swirling on its surface. He stared intently in the direction from which the pebbles had come, his voice surprisingly calm: Friend, since you're here, why not show yourself?

Ye Yun walked slowly out from behind a tree, his black robe rustling in the night wind. He deliberately altered his gait and breathing rhythm, making it impossible to identify him.

We have no past grievances, nor recent enmity. Sun Yu showed a sinister smile, but his eyes were as cold as knives. You killed so many of my subordinates today, shouldn't you give an explanation?

Ye Yun deliberately lowered his voice, making it hoarse like sandpaper: You intended to kill those Constables, and they had no enmity with you either.

A bunch of ants. Sun Yu sneered, gently fanning himself. Is it worth risking your life for them, friend?

In the moonlight, Ye Yun saw Sun Yu's fingers lightly stroking the fan ribs, a subtle movement that instantly put him on guard—that fan was strange!

They are the ants you call them, maintaining the peace of Chun'an County. Ye Yun subtly adjusted his position, keeping himself in the advantageous windward position. They also have families and friends; why do you disregard human life?

Naive! Sun Yu suddenly burst into laughter, his voice full of mockery. Ants are just ants; why should their lives matter? His tone shifted, killing intent flashing in his eyes. As for you, with your 8th Rank peak strength that's at most Rank Seven, are you really willing to die for these ants?

Ye Yun said no more, drawing his long saber. His 8th Rank peak aura was fully unleashed. The blade glinted coldly in the moonlight, and the surrounding fallen leaves swirled and scattered as if blown by a wind.

Interesting. Sun Yu closed his fan, a grave expression finally appearing on his face. It seems I'll have to stretch my muscles today.

Before his words fell, his figure suddenly blurred, leaving only an afterimage. The real Sun Yu had already appeared to Ye Yun's left, his fan like a sword, thrusting directly at his throat! Three needles emitting a blue light sprang from the tip of the fan bone, clearly coated with a potent poison.

Ye Yun blocked with his saber, sparks flying. He inwardly grimaced—Sun Yu's speed was more than thirty percent faster than an ordinary Rank Seven martial artist! If he hadn't been prepared, this strike could have been fatal.

The two exchanged blows instantly, ten moves in rapid succession. Saber light and sword shadows cut down all the trees within a ten-zhang radius. Sun Yu's moves were sinister and tricky, targeting the lower body and vital joints; Ye Yun fought steadily, using the basic saber techniques from the True Martial Secret Manual to counter, which, though not flashy, were all deadly.

After a head-on clash, both men retreated three steps. Sun Yu's brocade robe was ripped in several places by the saber energy, revealing the gold-thread soft armor underneath; Ye Yun's sleeve cuff was also cut by the fan bone, but thankfully, his flesh was unharmed.

You are no ordinary 8th Rank. Sun Yu's breathing was slightly rapid, his eyes filled with disbelief. Who exactly are you?

Ye Yun did not answer, and his saber technique suddenly changed. This time, he unleashed the saber intent recorded in the True Martial Secret Manual. The long saber drew a perfect arc in the air, and where the blade passed, the air let out a crackling sound as if unable to bear the strain.

Sun Yu's expression changed drastically, and he blocked with all his might using his fan. With a crisp crack, the steel fan bone was actually split in two by this single saber strike! The saber's momentum did not diminish, leaving a bone-deep gash on his chest. The gold-thread soft armor was torn apart as easily as paper.

Pfft—

Sun Yu spat out a mouthful of blood and staggered back. Fear finally appeared in his eyes, his previous composure completely gone: Wait! I can give you...

A flash of saber light, and Sun Yu's voice was cut short. His head flew high into the air, his face frozen in an expression of disbelief. His headless body swayed twice before crashing heavily to the ground.

Ye Yun sheathed his saber and turned to face the already terrified masked man. This 8th Rank martial artist was now slumped on the ground, his broken axe lying beside him, his eyes beneath the bronze mask filled with despair.

The masked man trembled all over and suddenly let out a shrill laugh: You killed Sun Yu... Hahaha... You're finished! The Sun Family won't let you go, and that lord won't let you go either...

Another flash of saber light, and the laughter was abruptly silenced.