After leaving the mountain stronghold, Zhang Xiaohua was carrying three people. Li Yinfeng and her mother were both light as feathers, so they took little effort, but now Zhang Xiaohu had been added, and his weight equaled that of the two women combined. Zhang Xiaohua carried Li Yinfeng on his back, supported Li Yinfeng's Mother with his right hand, and held up Zhang Xiaohu with his left. Zhang Xiaohu did not possess his younger brother's strength, so he could only apologize and clamp Li Yinfeng's father under his arm. In any case, he was merely gripping him tightly; the one actually exerting strength was still Zhang Xiaohua.
Using qinggong while carrying four living people did not strain Zhang Xiaohua physically, but it consumed an enormous amount of true qi. He had already expended some while entering to find Li Yinfeng, and bringing the three of them out had cost him several times more. It seemed that the consumption of qinggong was indeed closely tied to weight. Zhang Xiaohua reckoned that the true qi in his body should be enough to carry all four of them to another mountain. Taking a deep breath, he silently worked his cultivation method. The true qi within him spun wildly, and with a tap of his foot, he unleashed Misty Steps. His body floated up, landing precisely atop the treetops. He immediately extended his divine sense to its limit and sped down the mountain.
Though there were hidden sentries in the forest, it was already late. The whole mountain held only the sound of wind, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional howl of beasts. How could the bandits in those hidden posts have imagined someone passing over their heads? If their chief had not repeatedly stressed militarization and stronger discipline, they would have long