Draw the blade...
Ten thousand times?
The boy froze for a moment as an indescribable feeling coursed through his whole body.
In that brief instant, Chen Changming seemed to have gained a new layer of insight into the art of drawing his blade to strike.
Then the piercing laughter reached his ears, and his blood boiled once more.
Drawing on the strength surging up from the soles of his feet, his uncontrollable body suddenly burst into motion. He shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, kicking up a flurry of snow.
Though he was moving fast, Ma San was only slightly startled. Even if an eight- or nine-year-old child doubled his speed, he still posed little danger in Ma San's eyes.
"Go to hell!"
Ma San grinned viciously and swung his leg at the boy's chest.
The wind howled around his leg, leaving a blur in its wake.
This was Ma San's proudest move, the Lightning Leg Technique. Though his training was far from perfect, he had still mastered it to some degree—far beyond what an eight- or nine-year-old child could withstand.
If that kick landed, the boy would be dead for sure.
The hatchet paused briefly in midair, then subtly shifted its course. It pierced through the blur of Ma San's leg and slashed straight at the most vulnerable spot: his throat.
"What?"
Ma San was terrified out of his wits. He had never imagined that this blade could be so bizarre, changing course with such subtlety.
This was no blade technique a little beggar could possibly use!
Pfft!
It was already too late for him to dodge. The glinting blade scattered the cold wind as it cut open his throat.
Thud!
The boy landed after striking his mark. His small frame trembled as he gulped down breath after breath, as if that single swing had drained every last bit of strength from him.
"How is this possible? You know martial arts too..."
Ma San stared at the boy in disbelief, his eyes burning with unwillingness.
He had never imagined he would die at the hands of an eight- or nine-year-old child.
With a bang, his hands fell limply to his sides. His tall frame could no longer hold up and crashed onto the thick blanket of snow.
Quick as a flash, Chen Changming caught Su Linger, who had been stunned with fright.
"Someone's been killed!"
A skinny man peered out from around a distant corner. It was Liu Si, Ma San's lackey.
He had just come out of the teahouse and had witnessed his boss fall with blood spurting from his throat. Liu Si's legs shook like sieves with terror, but he gritted his teeth and staggered toward the authorities.
Chen Changming's pupils contracted, and a wave of dread washed over him.
In his fury, he had killed someone in Xiliang City. Liu Si, who had fled, would surely report it to the authorities.
He would be thrown in jail, then beheaded at noon as a warning to others.
Hoisting Su Linger onto his back, he growled, "We have to go!"
Xiliang City was buried in snow and battered by wind. Few people were out on the streets, making this the perfect chance to flee.
Desperate to escape, Chen Changming drew on his body's potential once more and soon disappeared into the storm.
The snow fell harder and harder.
After only a few breaths, a thin layer of snow had covered Ma San's corpse, and the boy's footprints had vanished beneath the falling flakes.
Liu Si led several constables to the scene. After examining it, one of them frowned and asked him, "You're sure that little beggar who sells firewood killed him?"
"It was him. I saw it clearly—I couldn't be mistaken."
Liu Si's face was pale. He couldn't forget that small figure leaping into the air, a flash of blade light trailing behind him as he opened Ma San's throat in an instant.
The sight had been horrifying.
The constables' expressions turned grave. They exchanged glances, and each reached the same conclusion.
The little beggar knew martial arts, and he was no weakling.
A short while later, a team of ten constables left Xiliang City with several large black dogs and followed the trail north.
After no more than the time it took an incense stick to burn, the constables caught up with the killer in the woods north of the city.
"Woof! Woof!"
The large black dogs caught his scent and barked excitedly.
"Go!"
The constables released their chains. The three large black dogs, their eyes bloodshot, charged at Chen Changming with wild howls.
Linger's face filled with despair. With a sudden lurch, she slipped off the boy's back.
"Brother Changming, run!"
She cried out.
"There's no escaping!"
Chen Changming gave a bitter smile and turned around, gripping the bloodstained hatchet as he watched the three large black dogs charge closer.
He had used up most of his strength fleeing. How could he possibly outrun the pursuers?
The dogs were as sturdy as calves. He couldn't even take on one of them.
"I killed one, so I got my money's worth. Besides, I've had enough of living."
Chen Changming murmured.
His life had been hard these past few years, but he had never complained. Today, however, he had been bullied by a scoundrel and nearly killed. He had lost all hope in this world.
"Brother Changming, I'll die with you."
Linger's expression was resolute. She picked up a branch and pointed it at the charging dogs.
"You didn't lay a hand on anyone. They won't arrest you."
Chen Changming shook his head.
Linger couldn't even hurt a chicken. Even the most blind of constables wouldn't attack a little girl.
"If you die, how could I go on living?"
Linger gave a bitter smile.
She was starving and freezing, and sores all over her body oozed pus. Her frail little frame had long since reached its limit. In this snowy night, she would freeze to death in less than an hour.
Hearing Linger's words, Chen Changming fell silent. For once, he didn't argue.
The three large black dogs drew near and leaped at them. Linger remained calm, resting her head against the boy's shoulder as she murmured, "In our next life, let's not come back here. All right, Brother Changming?"
Chen Changming nodded and swung his blade.
But the three black dogs suddenly groaned, spat blood in unison, and crashed heavily onto the snow.
"How could such a rare Heavenly Spirit Root be allowed to die?"
A woman's ethereal voice rang out. The wind and snow abruptly stopped, and a masked woman in silver robes slowly emerged from the air.
Her bearing was so noble she seemed beyond the reach of mortals. She stood in midair like a fairy, inspiring awe and reverence.
"Immortal Master!"
The pursuing constables turned ashen with terror and hurriedly fell to their knees.
An immortal?
Chen Changming stared at the woman in silver robes, stunned. An immortal from the legends had appeared right before his eyes. It felt like a dream.
The woman in silver robes gestured, and Linger rose into the air against her will, floating to her side.
"Tsk, tsk. With talent like this, the great sects elsewhere would fight tooth and nail to claim her. Who would have thought that in such a remote corner of the Northern Region, she would nearly die at the hands of mortals..."
The woman in silver robes examined Linger, praising her without reservation.
Linger blinked and hurriedly asked, "Immortal Master, could you save me and Brother Changming?"
"Why not?"
The woman in silver robes smiled indifferently and flicked her hand. The ten constables instantly turned to ash.
At the sight of such a terrifying spectacle, Chen Changming stumbled backward, aghast.
Was this the power of an immortal?
It was terrifying!
"Linger, are you willing to become my disciple?" the woman in silver robes asked.
"I am."
A sudden inspiration came to Linger, and she quickly fell to her knees. "Master, please accept your disciple's bow."
"Rise."
The woman in silver robes personally helped Linger to her feet, warmth in her gaze. The child had endured so much hardship in her early years. She would surely be diligent in her future cultivation, and her willpower would far surpass that of her peers.
On this trip to the Northern Region, she had truly found a treasure.
"Linger, come back to the sect with me."
The woman in silver robes took Linger's small hand. Feeling how cold it was, she felt even more compassion for her.
"Master, can Brother Changming come with us too?"
Linger asked timidly.
"Changming?"
The woman in silver robes narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the frail boy. Her expression gradually shifted, coldness surfacing as she scoffed. "He has nothing but a Five Elements Mixed Spirit Root, the worst cultivation talent in the world. How could he ever be admitted to my Glazed Sect?"