After the Fang Family's party reached Falling Mist Mountain, they quickly split into ten small teams and headed in different directions.
The Eleventh Elder went alone to Green Ridge Stronghold, intending to slay the bandit chief.
Foundation Building Realm cultivators were incredibly fast. They could already tread through the air, a feat far beyond what Xiantian Realm cultivators could match.
"Flying through the air—it's the stuff of dreams!"
While traveling, Fang Yuan had tried treading through the air, but he could only maintain it for a short distance and had to move at an incredible speed.
Foundation Building Realm cultivators were different. They had completely broken free of the ground's constraints.
Fang Yuan's team was somewhat unusual. Including him, it had four Xiantian Realm cultivators, all of whom looked to him for leadership.
"I have a few disguise masks here. Everyone, put them on."
In the blink of an eye, several yellowish-white "faces" appeared in Fang Yuan's hands.
"Aren't these the bandits the Young Master killed outside Prefecture City last time?"
One of the disciples held up a "face," his eyes shifting as it seemed vaguely familiar. In an instant, the memory came rushing back.
"No wonder the Young Master left those bandits' corpses behind last time!"
Many of the disciples looked enlightened, marveling at Fang Yuan's far-reaching plans.
"But why not just cut off their heads? Wouldn't that be more convenient?"
Someone muttered in confusion, immediately drawing surprised looks from those around him.
"Taking the heads back might seem easier, but if we leave the corpses there, news of their deaths will eventually get out."
Then their disguises would be pointless.
Fang Yuan glanced at the disciple who had explained it. His eyes flickered. Smart people really did have sharp minds.
"What's your name?"
When Fang Yuan asked his name, Fang Yan was overwhelmed with surprise. He hurriedly clasped his fists and replied.
"I don't remember him joining us for training last time."
"That kid's lucky, getting noticed by the Young Master."
"See? Reading really is useful."
Fang Yan was eloquent and quick-witted, but in the martial-minded Fang Family, he had never been given much attention. That was simply how the world worked.
"Based on what you remember of those bandits, choose faces with similar builds as best you can."
Before long, the Fang Family's handsome young disciples had transformed into fearsome-looking bandits.
"I'll ask the three Stewards to follow us discreetly."
Fang Yuan didn't have the Stewards disguise themselves. Of the people they'd killed last time, including the Fifth Chief of Qinggang Stockade, only one had been at the Xiantian Realm.
"Our clothes are too conspicuous. We'll go to a village shortly and change into rough-spun clothes."
They made their way through Falling Mist Mountain. One disciple consulted a map, trying to locate the nearest village.
But Fang Yan, who was on his first outing for training, pointed out the direction they should take.
"Smoke is rising over there. People must live in that direction."
Fang Yuan gave him an approving look, making several disciples envious.
"This village..."
They were still outside the village when they saw a scene of utter devastation.
Pools of blood soaked into the yellow earth. Severed limbs lay everywhere, and a few gaunt old people clutched children in their arms.
The whole village was steeped in the grief that lingered after a great conflagration. Silent weeping seemed to echo in everyone's ears.
"Let's go take a look."
After a long silence, Fang Yuan broke the stillness and walked forward.
Up close, the devastation was even clearer. A faint smell of blood hung in the air, mingling with the scent of charred wood from houses that had yet to burn out and corpses that had not yet been buried.
"Old man, what happened to the village?"
A disciple spotted a frail, white-haired old man not far away and went over to ask him about the situation, but the old man ignored him.
The White-Haired Old Man grew angry as the disciple kept talking in his ear. He shoved him and shouted:
"I'm a dead man walking. If you want my life, take it! You damned bastards!"
Seeing that the two were about to come to blows, Fang Yuan reached out to stop the disciple and gave Fang Yan a look.
"Old man, we're not bandits. We're powerful cultivators from Prefecture City, here to wipe out the bandits on the mountain."
Fang Yan spoke gently, then took out some dry rations and set them in front of the old man.
"You're really here to wipe out the bandits?"
The White-Haired Old Man's expression shifted. A moment later, he grew agitated and spoke in a rush.
But when he saw the faces these men wore, which made them look like no good, he swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue and looked away nervously.
Fang Yuan snapped his fingers. A powerful aura suddenly descended. A figure in gray robes appeared, feet hovering above the ground, eyes bright and piercing.
"Greetings, Immortal Master!"
At once, the White-Haired Old Man knelt toward Fang Yuan and the Stewards.
Though he knew nothing of cultivation realms or ranks, his years of experience told him the newcomer was immensely powerful.
After explaining everything that had happened to the village, the White-Haired Old Man took the dry rations and hurried to a wooden hut, where he fed them to a frail little girl.
The little girl had clearly gone hungry for many days. Her face was pale, and she could only manage to eat with some water.
"Those bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold are less than human!"
"Damn it, we have to kill every last one of them!"
After hearing what had happened, the Fang Family disciples were furious. They wished they could cut down the Green Ridge Stronghold bandits on the spot.
By comparison, the three Stewards behind Fang Yuan remained much calmer.
Not long ago, bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold had raided and slaughtered everyone in the village, stripping it of all its wealth.
Any villagers who fought back were mercilessly killed, and even their homes were burned down. The bandits were vicious and utterly without restraint.
The White-Haired Old Man's children had all died beneath the bandits' blades. He had been outside with his granddaughter at the time and escaped the slaughter.
From his account, they learned what had happened.
The Fang Family's Mine had taken the initiative to hunt down the bandits roaming Falling Mist Mountain. It should have been good news.
But unfortunately...
The bandits had been driven into a corner. Whenever they tried to rob passersby or merchants, they risked being ambushed and killed instead.
So they turned their attention to remote villages, plundering supplies and money.
"Your clothes are so fine. Why would you trade them for mine? I can't accept this."
The White-Haired Old Man had never worn such fine clothes. Trading new for old was unheard of to him, and he kept waving his hands in refusal.
"If you need them to kill bandits, and you don't mind them being old, then I'll give you some."
In the end, Fang Yuan left the old man a bag of silver. It wasn't much, but it was enough to support the surviving villagers for more than half a month.
"Thank you for your great kindness, Immortal Master!"
The old man watched Fang Yuan and the others disappear into the distance, his eyes growing moist.
He lowered his head to look at the money and food in his hands, along with the new clothes they had left him. His expression was dazed.
As they left, the scene from earlier continued to churn 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 that of ordinary people who, in the eyes of cultivators, were no more than ants.
Every person was born with a life, yet lives were divided into ranks of high and low, noble and base.
In his previous life, he had been just one among the teeming masses.
"Since Heaven gave me the chance to live another life, I should live freely, settle my grudges, and follow my heart."
Fang Yuan took a deep breath. His thoughts felt crystal clear. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but even his spiritual power seemed a little stronger.
Before long, the disguised party reached the mountain below Green Ridge Stronghold.
The clash of weapons rang out nearby, punctuated now and then by low shouts. The battle was fierce.
Clearly, the Fang Family's other teams had already engaged the bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold.
"Everyone, stay alert! More bandits from Green Ridge Stronghold are coming!"
"Kill them! Kill every last one of those bastards!"
Before you continue