The Master Descends the Mountain, Clearwind Reaches Perfection

The sky was pitch-black.

On the way back, the seven or eight men traveling together hid their swords, spears, staves, and other weapons beneath their clothes. Panting uneasily, they kept looking around, terrified of encountering mountain bandits again.

Li Xian led the way ahead. For the remaining dozen or so li, nothing else happened.

When they reached an open space outside the village, Li Xian said, "Dig a pit here and bury the weapons."

"Sir, why not bury these weapons together with those mountain bandits' corpses?"

A villager asked.

"That place is too far away. Though these weapons will be buried underground, they will not become entirely useless." Li Xian said flatly, "If the matter is exposed someday,

we must still have swords and spears to take up, ready to resist at any time."

"Ah!"

Everyone was terrified.

Now that the hot blood had cooled, how could they remain calm when they thought of fighting the mountain bandits?

Li Xian said, "Your lives are your own."

"The only ones who can truly save you are yourselves. You cannot count on anyone else, and neither can you count on me. Let me tell you: if things go wrong, I will return to the estate. No matter how formidable Mountain Wind Stronghold is, they would not dare come to the estate to collect a debt."

"But you cannot leave. So if you harbor any wishful luck, your corpses will surely be left without bones. Think it over yourselves."

Everyone fell silent. Uncle Fu was the oldest and saw things most clearly. He said, "Sir is right. We have endured Mountain Wind Stronghold's humiliation for decades."

"Each time, we swallowed our anger and endured, yet we were still bullied. They do not refrain from killing us out of mercy. It is because if