Precious Medicine

The road was even harder to travel than Zhou Yan had expected.

The convoy had traveled along this road for most of the day, heading farther and farther into the wilderness.

Zhou Yan rode behind the carriages, his gaze sweeping through the forest.

He had been sensing that martial artist's aura all along, but at some point, it suddenly vanished.

It seemed to have gone ahead, farther and farther away, until it was almost beyond his perception.

Zhou Yan frowned but said nothing.

Feng Ping, the young man carrying a bow, followed at the rear of the convoy. His bow lay across the saddle, and his fingers casually plucked at the bowstring.

His horse kept a distance of seven or eight paces from the carriages—not too close, not too far.

Zhou Yan glanced at him. The man did not talk much and had barely opened his mouth throughout the journey.

During the last ambush, he had leaped onto the roof of a carriage and fired three arrows, every one of them striking a thigh.

His archery had seemed quite good then, and he had appeared to show mercy.

Wu Yong rode at the very front, his long spear resting on his shoulder as he occasionally looked back at the convoy.

They traveled for another half an hour.

The road curved into an even denser forest. The trees were so thick that one person could not wrap their arms around them, and the ground was covered in dark brown mountain soil.

Zhou Yan suddenly reined in his horse.

In an instant, every sound came to an abrupt halt.

Wu Yong sensed it too and raised a hand to signal the convoy to stop.

But it was already too late!

The treetops ahead rustled, and two figures dropped from the branches, blocking the road from either side.

The man on the left was around forty and wore gray robes. His hands were empty, but his palms glimmered with a dark bluish-green sheen, as if he cultivated some kind of palm technique.

The younger man on the right held two short hooks, their blades flashing with cold light.

Martial artists!

Both men radiated an aura similar to the force Instructor Ding possessed.

Wu Yong drove the tip of his spear down sharply, plunging its butt two inches into the soil.

Before he could speak, a mass of people surged out from both sides of the forest.

There were more than twice as many as during the previous attack.

Over twenty stood in front, with more than a dozen on each side. All wore gray clothing and masks, steel sabers drawn.

Several leaders among them had steady, powerful auras. Every one of them was in the Qi-Gathering Realm.

Zhou Yan swept his eyes over them and made a rough count. There were no fewer than fifty!

Quite an impressive force.

The two gray-robed martial artists said nothing. The one on the left directly raised his palm, while the one with hooks spun his weapons in his hands.

At that moment, another figure descended from above the forest and landed before the green-canopied carriage.

"Elder Shen!"

He was an old man in his fifties, dressed in black robes. His hair was streaked with white, but his back was straight.

His surname was Shen, and everyone in the Sun Family called him Elder Shen. The aura around him was even heavier than those of the two gray-robed martial artists.

He was the martial artist the Sun Family had hidden in the shadows.

Elder Shen did not turn around. His voice was hoarse. "Protect the carriage. Fall back."

Before he could finish, the two gray-robed martial artists had already moved.

The palm user attacked first, striking toward Elder Shen's face. The force of his palm swept up the rotting leaves on the ground.

Elder Shen shifted aside and returned a palm strike. Their palm forces collided with a muffled boom.

The hook user took the chance to circle to the side. His twin hooks crossed, locking down the old man's retreat.

The three became entangled in battle.

Elder Shen's palm techniques were steady and seasoned. Though fighting two against one strained him, he managed to hold on through several exchanges.

The gray-robed palm user suddenly changed his moves. Palm strike followed palm strike, each faster than the last, forcing the old man two steps back.

The hook user seized the chance to close in, slashing a shallow cut across the old man's left shoulder. Cloth tore, and blood seeped out.

Elder Shen gave a muffled grunt and retreated three steps before stabilizing his stance, but anyone could see that he had fallen into a disadvantage.

Wu Yong shook his spear and roared, "Form up!"

The guards reacted with remarkable speed.

Meng Gang, the square-faced burly man, darted out from beside the carriage. With a swing of both fists, he smashed down the first two gray-clad saber wielders to charge forward.

His fists carried the force of a minor mastery-level fist technique. With one punch, a saber wielder's breastbone caved in.

Ge Qing, who wielded twin sabers, flipped down from his horse. His blades flashed above and below as he met the three or four saber wielders charging from the side.

His blades were fast. One slash, one man. In the blink of an eye, two bodies had fallen to the ground.

Zheng Tong leaped down from his horse without even drawing a weapon and plunged barehanded into the crowd.

Zhou Yan dismounted and guarded the side of the carriage, casually dealing with the enemies coming at him.

Just then, the creak of a fully drawn bowstring came from atop the carriage.

The sound was especially clear amid the clash of battle.

At some point, Feng Ping, the young man with the bow, had leaped back onto the carriage roof.

His bow was fully drawn, an arrow nocked upon the string, but its tip was not aimed at the enemy.

Not good!

Zhou Yan cursed inwardly.

Twanged!

The first arrow streaked past Zhou Yan's eyes and drove straight into the back of Meng Gang's neck, bursting out through the front of his throat.

Meng Gang had just punched down a saber wielder when his body suddenly stiffened. He lowered his head and looked at the arrowhead protruding from his throat.

He took one kneeling step forward, then crashed to the ground with a boom.

Twanged!

The second arrow came.

The old steward was clutching the carriage shaft as he tried to retreat. The arrow buried itself in his chest all the way to the fletching.

He looked down at the trembling arrow shaft in his chest, his legs gave out, and he slid down against the wheel into a seated position.

Twanged!

The third arrow flew directly toward Sun Wenyue's carriage curtain.

Zhou Yan had no time to think. He kicked off the ground and launched himself into the air, driving his right fist at the arrow.

The arrowhead struck his fist with a clang. The arrow was knocked off course and buried itself in the carriage wall.

Zhou Yan landed and turned to look at the roof.

Feng Ping had already thrown aside his bow. He drew a short blade from his waist and jumped down from the carriage roof.

He landed steadily, raised his head toward the forest, and shouted.

"The medicine is in the carriage!"

The moment that shout rang out, everyone in the guard squad froze.

Wu Yong's spear halted in midair. Ge Qing's saber was locked against a saber wielder's blade. Even Zheng Tong turned to glare at Feng Ping.

This man had remained silent the entire way. When he had shot the bandits, he had aimed only for their thighs, every arrow striking a thigh, never taking a vital spot.

Everyone had thought he was merciful. Only now did they understand that he had been saving his arrows for his own people.

After shouting, Feng Ping swung his short blade and stabbed it into the kidney of a Body-Tempering Realm guard beside him.

The guard screamed and collapsed against the carriage shaft, blood running down it.

Feng Ping pulled out his blade, stepped back twice, and joined the charging gray-clad saber wielders.

Zhou Yan clenched his fists and stared at Feng Ping.

Even before entering the mountain, he had sensed something was wrong. The Sun Family had sent five Qi-Gathering Realm fighters and even hidden a martial artist in the shadows. This did not look like a simple family visit.

The people from the previous ambush had tattoos on their necks and moved with clear training. They were obviously no common bandits.

This group had blocked the road as well. There was clearly an insider who knew they would take this route.

The information had leaked long ago!

The curtain of the green-canopied carriage was suddenly thrown open.

Sun Wenyue leaned half his body out, his face ashen.

He looked at the roof of the carriage, then at the old steward's corpse on the ground. The knuckles of the hand clutching the curtain turned white.

"Third Young Master!" Wu Yong forced back a Qi-Gathering Realm fighter with a spear thrust and shouted over his shoulder. Blood had soaked one sleeve from his left shoulder.

Sun Wenyue gritted his teeth and swept his gaze across the battlefield.

Elder Shen was being pressed down by the two gray-robed martial artists. Blood had already dyed half his clothes red.

The palm user advanced step by step, while the hook user focused on low attacks. The old man's steps grew heavier and his palm force was no longer as sharp as before.

Meng Gang was dead, and so was the old steward.

Two more Body-Tempering Realm guards had fallen.

After Feng Ping's betrayal, the guard squad's formation had completely collapsed.

Wu Yong's spear was pinned down by two Qi-Gathering Realm fighters working together. A short-blade wielder closed in, and Wu Yong raised his spear horizontally to block. The short blade slid down the shaft and chopped into it.

The spear shaft snapped with a crack.

Wu Yong threw away the broken spear and drew his waist saber. His movements slowed.

But anyone could see that a spearman without his spear had lost half his skill.

Zheng Tong was surrounded by three Qi-Gathering Realm fighters.

No matter how tough his external cultivation was, he could not withstand three opponents of the same realm attacking together. He had already suffered more than ten cuts.

None were vital wounds, but there were too many of them. Blood dyed his clothes bright red, and his steps had begun to falter.

Ge Qing danced his twin sabers into a blur, but more and more saber wielders gathered before him. Every time he cut down one, two more came. He could not kill them all.

Sun Wenyue withdrew into the carriage and felt beneath the seat for a hidden compartment.

The compartment was small. Inside lay a bundle wrapped in blue cloth, its fabric worn frayed around the edges.

He gripped the bundle and lifted the curtain to look at Zhou Yan.

Zhou Yan was guarding the side of the carriage, knocking down a saber wielder who tried to approach with a single punch.

"Zhou Yan." Sun Wenyue lowered his voice until only those beside the carriage could hear him.

Zhou Yan turned his head.

Sun Wenyue shoved the blue cloth bundle into his arms.

The bundle was not heavy, but the thing wrapped inside gave off a warm heat.

"This is not a family visit. I'm sorry for deceiving you," Sun Wenyue said through gritted teeth, every word squeezed from between them. "It is a three-hundred-year Scarlet Blood Lingzhi, a precious medicine. My maternal grandfather was poisoned in Qinghe City and is at death's door. This medicine can save his life. Qinghe City's forces and Black Tiger Hall joined hands to steal it. The news was leaked."

Zhou Yan looked at the bundle before him and said nothing.

"Take Wenyao and leave." Sun Wenyue stared into his eyes. "Cross this mountain and head east. Travel for a few days, and the Sun Family's people in Qinghe City will meet you on the road. Once you arrive, hand this to the Sun Family's people. The Sun Family will surely reward you richly afterward."

Zhou Yan looked at the blue cloth bundle in his arms, then at Sun Wenyue.

Sun Wenyue's lips were trembling, but his gaze was steady.

"What about you?" Zhou Yan asked.

"I'll stay." Sun Wenyue said. "You take Wenyao and ride away."

Zhou Yan considered it for a moment. "All right!"

The Sun Family had indeed shown him kindness. It was through their connections that he had entered Mountain-Suppressing Martial Hall.

Besides, he had been accepting the Sun Family's silver for more than half a year, and the usual missions paid quite well too.

The carriage curtain opened another crack.

Fourth Miss Sun Wenyao poked her head out from behind it.

Blood stained her plain-colored silk dress, with several drops splashed across her sleeves. Her face was white as paper.

She looked at Zhou Yan, lifted the curtain, and climbed out of the carriage.

"Third Brother."

Sun Wenyue did not turn around, but his shoulders stiffened.

"Come back alive," Sun Wenyao said.

Sun Wenyue still did not turn around.

He waved a hand, pulled out a longsword from inside the carriage, then leaped down and stood before it.

Zhou Yan stopped thinking. He tucked the blue cloth bundle into his chest and mounted his horse.

He reached out, grabbed Sun Wenyao's wrist, and pulled hard.

Sun Wenyao was very light. One pull brought her onto the horse, where she sat sideways behind him.

"Hold tight."

Sun Wenyao wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers clutching his lapels tightly.

Zhou Yan squeezed his legs against the horse's belly, and the horse shot forward.

Wu Yong's roar came from behind them. "Cover them!"

Ge Qing crossed his twin sabers and blocked the side of the carriage, forcibly holding back two charging Qi-Gathering Realm fighters.

Zheng Tong roared, spread his arms, and bear-hugged a saber wielder, ramming the man and his blade flying to clear a path.

The horse rushed into the dense forest.

Branches whipped in from both sides. Zhou Yan shielded his face with one hand and pulled the reins with the other.

The horse's hooves trampled rotting leaves and loose stones, stumbling over uneven ground, but they did not dare stop.

Shouts of battle and pounding footsteps came from behind. The pursuers had caught their trail.

He glanced back and vaguely saw several gray-clad saber wielders parting the brush as they chased after them.

Even deeper in the forest, more silhouettes were moving.

Zhou Yan withdrew his gaze, lowered his body, and drove the horse deeper into the mountains.