Tragic

After the Fang Family's group arrived at Falling Mist Mountain, they quickly split into ten squads and headed in different directions.

The Eleventh Elder went alone to Qinggang Stockade, intending to suppress and slay the bandit leader.

A Foundation Building Realm cultivator moved swiftly, already able to tread upon the air—something utterly beyond the reach of Xiantian Realm cultivators.

"Walking through the sky—how enviable!"

While traveling, Fang Yuan had tried treading the air, but he could only sustain it for a short distance, and only when moving at extreme speed.

Foundation Building Realm was different; it completely broke free from the earth's constraints.

The squad Fang Yuan led was somewhat special, including him, there were four Xiantian Realm cultivators, all looking to him as their leader.

"I have several disguise faces here; everyone put one on."

In the blink of an eye, Fang Yuan's hand held several yellowish-white "faces."

"Isn't this from those bandits the Young Master killed outside the Prefecture City last time?"

A disciple took a "face," his eyes shifting, a flicker of familiarity rising as memory surged back in an instant.

"No wonder the Young Master left those bandits' bodies behind last time!"

Many disciples showed looks of sudden realization, silently marveling at Fang Yuan's far-reaching planning.

"Then why not just cut off their heads? Wouldn't that be more convenient?"

Someone didn't understand, muttering under his breath, and immediately drew many astonished glances.

"Cutting off the heads and bringing them back seems easier, but leaving the bodies there—news of their deaths would leak sooner or later."

If that happened, their disguises would be meaningless.

Fang Yuan glanced at the disciple who had explained, his eyes shifting slightly. Smart people had sharp minds.

"What's your name?"

Seeing Fang Yuan ask for his name, Fang Yan was flattered and quickly cupped his fists in reply.

"I remember he didn't join us for the last training."

"This kid's lucky, getting noticed by the Young Master."

"Reading more really does pay off."

Fang Yan was eloquent and quick-witted, but in the Fang Family, where martial arts dominated, he wasn't highly valued—such was the way of the world.

"Everyone, based on your memory of that bandit group, try to pick a face that matches your build."

Soon, the Fang Family's handsome young disciples transformed into fierce-looking brigands.

"I ask the three stewards to follow in secret."

Fang Yuan didn't have the stewards disguise themselves, since the Fifth Chief of Qinggang Stockade and his men they'd killed last time only included one Xiantian Realm cultivator.

"Our clothes are too conspicuous; we'll head to a village and swap for some coarse cloth robes."

The group moved through Falling Mist Mountain, with some disciples comparing maps, trying to find the nearest village.

But Fang Yan, on his first training expedition, directly pointed out the direction to go.

"That way has cooking smoke rising; there must be people living there."

Fang Yuan gave him an approving look, which made many disciples envious.

"This village..."

Still outside the village, the group saw an extremely brutal scene.

The yellow earth was soaked with pools of blood; severed limbs and broken arms lay everywhere, and gaunt, sallow-skinned elders clutched children.

The entire village was steeped in a sorrowful aftermath of war, silent weeping seeming to echo in everyone's ears.

"Let's go take a look."

Fang Yuan was silent for a long time, then broke the stillness, walking forward slowly.

As they drew closer, the horror became clearer. The air carried a faint scent of blood, along with the smell of half-burnt charcoal from houses not yet fully consumed, and corpses left unburied.

"Old sir, has something happened in the village?"

A disciple saw a frail, white-haired old man nearby and tried to ask, but the man ignored him.

The White-Haired Old Man, annoyed by the constant chatter at his ear, shoved the disciple angrily and shouted:

"I've got a worthless life—take it if you want, you damned lot!"

Seeing the two about to clash, Fang Yuan reached out to stop the disciple and gave Fang Yan a meaningful look.

"Old sir, we're not bandits. We're warriors from the Prefecture City, sent up the mountain to wipe out the brigands."

Fang Yan spoke slowly, his tone gentle, and even placed some dry rations before the old man.

"You really mean to suppress the bandits?"

The White-Haired Old Man's expression shifted, then turned agitated, his voice hurried.

But seeing these people's less-than-trustworthy "faces," the words on his tongue still didn't come out, and his eyes darted away.

Fang Yuan snapped his fingers, and a powerful aura descended. The newcomer wore gray robes, his feet not touching the ground, his gaze piercing.

"Greetings, Immortal Master!"

Seeing this, the White-Haired Old Man immediately knelt toward where Fang Yuan and the steward stood.

Though he didn't understand the cultivation system or its realms, his rich experience told him the newcomer's strength was formidable.

After explaining the village's full story, the White-Haired Old Man took some dry rations and hurried to a wooden hut, where he fed a frail little girl.

The girl had clearly gone hungry for many days, her face pale, able only to swallow the food with water.

"These bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold, they're fucking inhuman."

"Damn it, we have to slaughter them all."

Learning what had happened, the Fang Family disciples burned with righteous fury, itching to cut down the Green Ridge Stronghold bandits right then.

In contrast, the three stewards behind Fang Yuan remained much calmer.

Not long ago, this village had been bloodily ravaged by bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold, their wealth plundered clean.

Any villager who resisted was mercilessly killed, and even their houses were burned down—the bandits acted with reckless cruelty, without a shred of restraint.

The White-Haired Old Man's children had died under the bandits' blades; he and his granddaughter had been outside at the time and escaped the slaughter.

From his account, they learned.

The Fang Family's mining outpost taking the initiative to deal with the roving bandits on Falling Mist Mountain was originally a good thing.

But unfortunately.

These bandits were pressed too hard; robbing passing travelers and merchants easily led to ambushes and counter-kills.

So they turned their eyes to remote villages, plundering daily necessities, money, and grain.

"Your clothes are so fine, how can I trade with you? This won't do."

The White-Haired Old Man had never worn such good clothes; trading new for old was unheard of, and he waved his hands repeatedly.

"If it's for killing bandits, and you don't mind, I'll give you some for free."

In the end, Fang Yuan left the old man a pouch of silver—not a large sum, but enough to sustain the surviving villagers for over half a month.

"Thank you for your great kindness, Immortal Master!"

The old man watched Fang Yuan and the others gradually fade into the distance, his eyes a little moist.

He looked down at the money and food in his hands, and the new clothes left behind, his expression dazed.

On the road away, the scene just past still wove through Fang Yuan's mind.

He didn't consider himself a great philanthropist, but he couldn't bear to see too much human suffering—especially ordinary people, who in the eyes of cultivators were like ants.

All were born with one life, yet they were divided into high and low, noble and base.

In his past life, wasn't he just one of the countless masses?

"Since heaven has given me a chance to live this life anew, I should naturally act with swift vengeance and follow my heart's desires."

Fang Yuan took a deep breath, feeling his thoughts become incredibly clear. Whether it was an illusion or not, even his mental strength seemed to have grown a notch.

Soon, the disguised group arrived at the foot of the mountain where Green Ridge Stronghold was located.

The sound of clashing blades rang out, punctuated by occasional low shouts—the battle was fierce.

Clearly, the other Fang Family squads had already engaged Green Ridge Stronghold.

"Everyone, watch out! More Green Ridge Stronghold bandits are coming!"

"Kill! Kill these motherfuckers!"