For weeks, both banks of the Suchuan River had been shrouded in continuous rain. After days of oppressive heat, it finally culminated in a torrential downpour.
The night was pitch-black, with flashes of pale lightning intermittently illuminating their faces. Rainwater trickled down Mu Qingyan’s prominent nose bridge as he smiled excitedly. “Once we capture a few alive, Zhao, you won’t have to eat persimmon cakes anymore.”
Cai Zhao swiftly drew her Yanyang Blade, rainwater streaming down her wrist and along the golden-red blade. Her small face was stern as she retorted, “Don’t mention those two words to me!”
In truth, Mu Qingyan had conceived this plan to lure out their enemies when Cai Zhao was tasting cakes in the fifth village. They realized during their search that if they couldn’t conduct a thorough investigation, it would be too easy for the Shi brothers to hide.
The persimmon cake sent to Cai Pingzhu might not have been a local specialty from their retreat. It could have been bought from a neighboring village or even from a distant upstream village. Even if Cai Zhao could identify the taste, the Shi brothers could easily hide in the mountains or nearby villages if they wanted to avoid detection.
Cai Zhao stepped forward, intending to follow the script with a loud challenge, “Who are you to dare…”
“Why are you talking to them? Let’s fight! Remember to capture them alive!” Mu Qingyan pressed on her shoulder, his tall figure soaring into the air like a swift, ferocious bat in the night, instantly pouncing towards the opponents.
Cai Zhao, a beat behind, followed with a grim expression.
The group of black-clad figures, twenty-one in total, included four wielding shields and short swords. As Mu and Cai attacked, they immediately formed a formation.
Mu Qingyan’s palm strike reached before he did, but the lead figures dodged rather than confronting him directly. As soon as he landed, seven men surrounded him, with another seven forming an outer circle.
Despite his youth, Mu Qingyan was experienced in combat. He knew the best way to break a formation was to eliminate one or two members. Without hesitation, he launched two consecutive palm strikes at the figure before him.
Unexpectedly, the black-clad figure retreated steadily, seemingly disregarding the formation. Before Mu Qingyan could rejoice, the other six rushed in, targeting six of his vital points.
Had they been using palm strikes, Mu Qingyan might have risked taking a few hits. However, the short swords in their hands glinted with an eerie green light in the darkness, likely poisoned. Recalling his previous poisoning that had laid him up for over a year, he didn’t dare take chances and focused on self-preservation.
As he withdrew his offensive, the seven black-clad figures retreated in unison like puppets on strings. While he was still airborne, the outer circle of seven suddenly began throwing a continuous stream of flying daggers at him.
It wasn’t just one dagger per person—it was an unending chain. As soon as one hand threw a dagger, the other followed with another, creating a relentless barrage. Each attacker carried seven or eight daggers emitting a faint green glow. When they ran out, they’d retrieve daggers for their companions across from them, maintaining the assault without pause.
Mu Qingyan struggled to land safely. On the ground, he faced the seven-man formation; in the air, he confronted the net of flying daggers.
Cai Zhao watched in horror. She had seen Mu Qingyan break through encirclements before, either by force or by soaring over them, but now both options seemed impossible.
She frowned, feeling a vague familiarity with this formation.
Mu Qingyan dodged repeatedly, avoiding all the daggers. Frustrated, he launched a fierce counterattack.
His powerful palm strikes whistled through the air. With a crack, one black-clad figure’s arm was hit by the force of his strike. Instantly, the other six rushed in, forcing Mu Qingyan to withdraw to defend himself.
The injured attacker immediately retreated from the inner circle, replaced by one from the outer ring. The seven-man formation continued to operate seamlessly, with no apparent weakness.
While Cai Zhao was momentarily stunned, she too found herself trapped in a seven-man formation.
These seven, however, wielded thin yet incredibly resilient golden threads instead of shields and swords. The threads, of unknown material, became rigid as steel whips when lashing out, yet soft and entangling when struck by her Yanyang Blade. Several times, she nearly lost her grip on her weapon as the threads attempted to wrench it away.
Cai Zhao suddenly recalled Cai Pingzhu’s words when she first received permission to use the Yanyang Blade:
“Zhao, don’t believe the Yanyang Blade is invincible or can cut through anything. Remember, in nature, everything has its counterpart, in an endless cycle with no exceptions.”
“Even the most renowned weapons shouldn’t be used too frequently. Once overused, others will find ways to counter them.”
For the first time, Cai Zhao set aside her reliance on the Yanyang Blade. She retreated several steps, holding her blade defensively, and focused on guarding against attacks.
After several exchanges, she suddenly realized something and shouted indignantly, “Why do I have seven people surrounding me but no one throwing daggers?” This disparity in treatment was more insulting than harmful.
Mu Qingyan, who had been contemplating how to break the formation and capture prisoners, couldn’t help but smile at her outburst.
He laughed and called out, “Zhao, Fuyingzao!”
“Got it!” Cai Zhao activated her Feihua Crossing technique to soar upwards. At that moment, several golden threads shot towards her.
In the brief instant, before she rose above the black-clad figures and before the golden threads converged, Cai Zhao’s left hand reached back towards the small pavilion, executing the “Exceptional Strength” move from the fifth form of the Dragon-Catching Hand technique.
Propelled by her palm force, the woven bamboo box in the pavilion suddenly flew up, as if pulled by invisible threads, straight towards the distant Mu Qingyan.
By now, the golden threads had formed a spider-like web in the air, descending upon her. Cai Zhao quickly dropped to the ground to evade it, and the web-like threads abruptly retracted.
Both sides knew that this web was most effective in mid-air. Once it fell below Cai Zhao’s waist level, she could leap through the larger gaps at the edges to escape and launch an aerial attack on the black-clad figures.
Unfortunately, the web had formed too quickly, and Cai Zhao’s Dragon-Catching Hand technique hadn’t fully taken effect. The bamboo box was losing momentum mid-flight. Mu Qingyan let out a clear whistle and struck out with a palm towards the box. With a resounding crack, the box shattered in mid-air, and a gleaming silver light, like a scythe cutting through the night, flew into Mu Qingyan’s hand.
With his sword in hand, Mu Qingyan didn’t hold back. In a series of sharp metallic clashes, he severed the short swords of the seven black-clad figures and even cracked their shields.
Cai Zhao stared in awe for a moment before averting her gaze. Huapi Yao had never boasted about the sharpness of his sword, but now it was clear that ‘Fuyingzao’ was no less formidable than the Yanyang Blade.
She suddenly felt that she had been somewhat frivolous before.
In her brief distraction, Mu Qingyan had already broken through the formation with a flurry of strikes. If not for the need to capture prisoners alive, he would have been on a killing spree. After repelling the black-clad figures on his side, he swiftly moved to Cai Zhao’s encirclement, cutting down several from the outside in. In an instant, the ground was awash with blood, yet his gleaming silver sword remained unstained.
The young man stood with his sword raised in the pouring rain, coldly smiling, “Surrender now.” His stance was proud and severe, yet he hastily pulled Cai Zhao behind him after she finished off the remaining attackers, giving him a somewhat protective air.
“I don’t think our victory was mere luck,” Cai Zhao said, wiping rain from her face.
“Of course not,” Mu Qingyan replied confidently. “If we weren’t trying to capture them alive, I’d have dealt with them already.”
Cai Zhao regained some confidence. “They just caught us off guard. Once we focus, we can find their weakness.”
“Exactly. Their weakness is so obvious, it’s bigger than a persimmon cake.”
“… Don’t mention those words.”
The battered black-clad figures regrouped into formation. This time, they didn’t rush to attack. Instead, each took out a dark metal tube from behind, slowly approaching in a semicircle.
In such an uneven situation, others might have counterattacked immediately. However, both Mu and Cai’s expressions changed upon seeing the metal tubes, and they retreated a few steps.
“These tubes, don’t they look like…” Cai Zhao hesitated.
Mu Qingyan looked closely. “Not just look like. I think they are.”
At that moment, the lead attacker pulled on his metal tube, spraying out a thick liquid. A familiar foul odor immediately filled the valley. Cai Zhao exclaimed, “It’s Bone-Corroding Heavenly Rain!”
The foul-smelling poison and the tubes were identical to those used by Nie Zhe in the Palace of Extreme Pleasure. Bone-Corroding Heavenly Rain was created by Lu Chengnan to help his master Nie Hengcheng dominate the world. Only the Nie clan and their allies knew its exact formula. Even Mu Qingyan didn’t know how to make it, yet here it was in this remote mountain valley, its implications clear.
“So they are indeed in league with Nie Zhe,” Mu Qingyan’s eyes darkened, revealing a chilling coldness.
Cai Zhao slightly raised her left hand, revealing the silver chain around her wrist. She whispered, “I’ll use the chain to pull some of them over as human shields against the poison. You take the chance to capture them.”
“No need for such trouble,” Mu Qingyan stepped forward, making a grasping motion in the air.
One black-clad figure flew straight up as if struck by a heavy hammer, spewing blood before falling into Mu Qingyan’s grasp to be used as a shield.
Cai Zhao shook her head, sheathed her blade, and watched with folded arms.
Suddenly, everyone felt the ground trembling beneath their feet, with a rumbling sound coming from above.
Their extensive experience proved useful. While the black-clad group remained confused, Mu and Cai immediately recalled the incident of rolling snow almost causing an avalanche on Snow Ridge.
But this wasn’t Snow Ridge, and there was no snow. What was rolling towards them?
The sky cracked with a terrifying bolt of lightning, more frightening than before, splitting the night. The downpour intensified as if the heavens had opened up to pour down water.
Mu Qingyan, accustomed to mountain living, suddenly realized, “It’s a mudslide coming!”
In that instant, a flood of massive rocks and mud roared down like a monstrous beast.
Mu Qingyan reacted quickly, running towards a slightly raised slope to the left before the mudslide reached them.
Cai Zhao was even quicker. With her experience from Snow Ridge, she knew that whatever was falling wasn’t good. Looking around, she spotted a slightly raised platform to the left and raced towards it.
The black-clad figures only realized the danger when the mudslide entered their field of vision. They cried out in fear, dropping their tubes and scattering. But they were too slow and didn’t know where to escape. Most didn’t even have time to groan before being swept away by the roaring flood of rocks and mud.
Only the lead attackers, fiercely determined, remembered their mission even as their lives were in danger. One opened his metal tube and threw it towards Mu Qingyan’s back.
Cai Zhao escaped fastest, using her silver chain to hang from protruding rocks and tree trunks on the slope. With a few quick leaps, she landed on a high stone platform. Looking back, she saw Mu Qingyan’s agile form sometimes visible, sometimes lost in the mudslide, occasionally struck by huge rocks. As he neared, Cai Zhao quickly lowered her silver chain to pull him up.
Cai Zhao steadied the staggering man, feeling wetness on her hands. Looking at her palms, she found them covered in blood, unsure where he was injured in the chaos. They supported each other as they climbed to safer, higher ground.
The mudslide continued to roar ahead, truly terrifying. Cai Zhao reflected on how small humans were compared to nature’s power.
They climbed and dragged themselves towards the stable high ground until exhausted and panting, they found a cave jutting out from the mountainside. It was safe from both sudden mudslides from above and the raging flood of rocks below.
Inside the cave, Cai Zhao helped Mu Qingyan sit against the wall and slowly opened his blood-soaked clothes. Seeing the wound on his shoulder and neck, she couldn’t help but cry out.
“Is it the Bone-Corroding Heavenly Rain?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Mu Qingyan smiled bitterly. “I think so.”
In his haste to escape, he hadn’t dodged the poison tube thrown at his shoulder.
He had been ruthless, using Fuyingzao to cut away the entire patch of skin and flesh from his shoulder and back without hesitation. To prevent the poison from spreading, he had even carved three inches deep into his flesh.
This delay had almost caused him to be engulfed by the mudslide. While escaping towards Cai Zhao, he had been repeatedly struck by massive rocks, suffering both internal and external injuries.
Cai Zhao saw his pale face and intermittent breathing, realizing how severely he was injured. She slowly stood up.
Mu Qingyan noticed her movement, his dark eyes fixed on her. After a moment, he smiled and said, “Do you want to kill me?”
“… You figured it out,” Cai Zhao said quietly, her hand resting on the clasp at her waist.