Suddenly, a hand rested on Fu Tingyun’s shoulder from behind.

Terrified out of her wits, her hand went limp, and the dagger fell to the ground with a “clang.”

Everyone in the hall looked at Fu Tingyun in astonishment, not understanding why one moment she showed tragic determination to die rather than submit, and the next moment she was so frightened that she dropped her dagger. Glancing at Square Face’s ferocious expression seemed to explain. Even Square Face, who had been striding toward Fu Tingyun, wore a smug expression.

The carefree-mannered man in the northwest corner slightly furrowed his brow, appearing quite disappointed.

But Fu Tingyun heard a deep and detached voice in her ear: “Find me Asen’s shoulder-height staff.”

Though the tone was calm and somewhat nonchalant, it brought tears to Fu Tingyun’s eyes.

It was Ninth Master, it was Ninth Master…

His shoulder-height staff had been cut down to a wooden stick during the fight with Old Feng Four.

She wanted to ask about his injuries, to turn and see if he was unharmed… but with Square Face approaching ever closer, she dared not delay. Stumbling, she picked up the staff that had rolled aside and handed it to Zhao Jiu.

Zhao Jiu’s face was flushed, his gaze unfocused, as he stood up unsteadily, leaning on the staff.

Everyone suddenly understood.

Square Face’s steps faltered as he saw Zhao Jiu’s gaunt frame. His expression relaxed, showing cruel mockery: “Another one comes to die!”

“Get behind me!” Zhao Jiu instructed Fu Tingyun in a low voice.

Ninth Master is still ill!

Fu Tingyun hesitated, but seeing Zhao Jiu step forward to shield her, she quickly complied, grabbed the fallen dagger, and crouched in the corner of the hall, her eyes never leaving his figure.

“The green mountains remain unchanged, the blue waters flow forever,” Zhao Jiu said to Square Face, though his gaze lacked focus. “If I have offended you in any way, please forgive me…” His cheeks seemed to burn with fire, his body supported only by the staff planted on the ground. Anyone could see he was seriously ill, merely putting on a brave front.

The carefree-mannered man watched, shaking his head slightly, then turned away as if losing interest, whispering to the clear-featured man.

Square Face interrupted with loud laughter: “That depends on whether you can make me forgive you…” As he spoke, he threw a punch toward Zhao Jiu’s face.

Zhao Jiu tilted his head, avoiding the punch. His staff swept a half-circle with a sharp whistling sound, striking Square Face’s shoulder. With a soft “crack,” Square Face’s body crumpled as he staggered backward and fell to the ground.

Zhao Jiu stood quietly, leaning on his staff, displaying a steadiness and tranquility like deep pools and towering mountains, commanding respect.

“Oh!” The carefree-mannered man fixed his keen gaze on Zhao Jiu, a strange light flashing in his eyes. Behind him, the manager-like man and the burly man exchanged glances—one with his hand on his waist, the other tightly clenching his fist behind his back.

The rugged-faced man in the southwest corner had also stood up, though no one had noticed when he put down his things.

Square Face looked at Zhao Jiu in surprise.

He knew what would happen with his punch.

Once, someone’s face had been beaten to pulp by him, becoming unrecognizable even to the victim’s parents.

But this time, this sickly man who seemed ready to collapse not only dodged his thunderous attack but also struck him with a burning, bone-deep pain.

He privately sensed something amiss.

But with everyone’s eyes on him, stopping now would make it impossible to control his subordinates in the future. Even the silver they’d just received might not stay in their possession… Looking at Zhao Jiu’s emaciated body, however, he regained some confidence.

“Damn you, you consumptive wretch, you dare to ambush me when I’m not paying attention!” Square Face shouted, his eyes showing bloodthirsty savagery as he turned to pull out the waist knife from the nearest person and strode toward Zhao Jiu. “Attack together! Whoever kills this scum gets his woman!”

Fu Tingyun’s beauty was evident to all. They surged forward with unmasked greed, excitement, and lewdness in their voices… making Fu Tingyun’s legs weak as she trembled, clutching the dagger tightly.

She would rather die than be dishonored.

Zhao Jiu remained silent.

His thin lips pressed together, and a hint of ferocity flashed across his calm face. His eyebrows lifted as a murderous aura emanated from his entire body, felt even by the two groups on the other side of the hall. Yet the attackers, relying on their numbers, disregarded this change. They charged, wielding clubs or knives, launching into a flurry of wild attacks.

The hall echoed with deep, firecracker-like “pops.”

The attackers were either knocked to the ground, unable to move, forced to retreat repeatedly, or clutching their heads or shoulders while howling… Not only could they not hit Zhao Jiu, they could barely get close to him. The hall was in chaos.

The carefree-mannered man watched Zhao Jiu, his gaze growing more intense.

However, Zhao Jiu could do nothing about those who ran away—he didn’t pursue them, and as long as they stayed beyond the reach of his staff, they were safe.

Soon, Square Face—who had shouted the loudest, charged to the front, but ultimately observed from the side—discovered the reason: Zhao Jiu needed to protect the woman behind him. If he moved his feet, the barrier in front of the woman would be gone, and they could attack her at will.

Understanding this, Square Face grew excited and shouted to his men: “He’s protecting that woman! Quickly, capture her!”

With this reminder, the men quickly adjusted their strategy.

They all attacked Fu Tingyun.

Zhao Jiu stood firm in front of her, punching those who came with fists, chopping at those who came with knives. Several more men lay on the ground, unable to move.

The remaining men’s faces flashed with fear.

They looked at each other, surrounding Zhao Jiu, none willing to be the first to attack.

“Fools!” Square Face shouted angrily from the side. “We outnumber him, and he doesn’t dare move! If each of you goes up and blocks him for a few strikes, even if he has divine strength, he’ll be exhausted…”

The men suddenly understood and took turns engaging Zhao Jiu in close combat.

Fu Tingyun listened to Square Face directing everyone, filled with hatred. She thought how good it would be if Asen were here—perhaps he could take advantage of an unguarded moment to kill Square Face… Without their leader, the group would naturally fall apart!

This thought led her to worry about Asen.

Had he found a doctor yet?

Had he encountered any danger?

By her calculation, he should have returned by now… she just hoped he wouldn’t rush in recklessly!

She felt increasingly anxious.

Zhao Jiu’s movements began to slow down.

The men surrounding him noticed this and showed expressions of delight.

Suddenly, a loud “boom” resounded through the hall, making even the roof seem to shudder. The men attacking Zhao Jiu staggered backward.

The attackers all retreated more than ten feet away.

Fu Tingyun saw that the staff Zhao Jiu had been wielding was now planted on the ground, and the originally neat stone slabs had cracked like a spider’s web.

“If you still don’t know what’s good for you, don’t blame me for showing no mercy!” Zhao Jiu shouted. His voice echoed through the hall like distant thunder, causing everyone’s hearts to skip a beat.

The attackers looked at Square Face, then at Zhao Jiu, hesitating to advance but not retreating either.

Everyone stood in tense silence, facing off against each other.

Fu Tingyun’s nerves were taut.

The longer this standoff lasted, the more advantageous it would be for Square Face and his men… They needed to break this stalemate!

As this thought flashed through her mind, she saw Zhao Jiu’s body sway slightly.

Her expression changed dramatically.

Ninth Master… was likely at the end of his strength!

Fu Tingyun felt as if her heart were being stabbed with knives, and she couldn’t help but blame herself.

Why was she so timid?

If she hadn’t dropped the dagger out of fear earlier but had decisively ended her life, Ninth Master might have been able to escape.

Knowing Ninth Master was injured, yet watching him fight Square Face’s men, she had still harbored a sliver of hope that he might prevail as he had before… If she had unhesitatingly chosen to end her life then, Ninth Master wouldn’t have been burdened with her and wouldn’t be trapped here now.

Her eyes stung.

Then she heard Square Face shouting: “Hold on, brothers! That fellow is failing!” His voice was sinister but filled with joy.

Zhao Jiu’s staff whistled through the air like a swift wind or lightning, hurling toward Square Face.

Square Face was startled and tried to dodge, but the staff had already struck his chest.

The residual force of the staff caused him to stagger backward seven or eight steps. The staff fell to the ground with a “thud,” and Square Face’s legs finally went limp. Clutching his chest, he knelt on the ground, his head drooped, and he collapsed, motionless.

“Brother!” The men surrounding Zhao Jiu all rushed over to Square Face.

Zhao Jiu swayed and fell backward, stiff as a board.

“Ninth Master!” Fu Tingyun screamed, rushing toward him. “Ninth Master…”

His eyes were tightly closed, his face as yellow as gold paper.

“Ninth Master!” Her tears fell drop by drop onto his face.

The butcher-like robust man heard Fu Tingyun’s scream, shifted his gaze, abandoned Square Face, and picked up a large knife from the ground, charging toward Fu Tingyun.

A gleaming flexible sword followed him like a venomous snake, quickly piercing his back.

The robust man’s form froze. Only after the flexible sword was withdrawn from his body, causing blood to spurt out, did he fall to the ground with a “thud.”

Some of the men around Square Face noticed the commotion and shouted.

The others raised their heads.

They saw the manager-like man who had earlier bowed and offered them silver now standing beside the robust man’s corpse, holding a flexible sword, his face still wearing a friendly smile.

Everyone shuddered, seeing fear in each other’s eyes.

“Kill them all!” the carefree-mannered man suddenly ordered.

His cold voice carried the indifference and authority of one long accustomed to a high position.

The burly man loudly responded with “Yes,” his voice containing a hint of joy.

He stepped forward, swinging his fist at the nearest person.

A slight crushing sound echoed in the hall. The man’s face immediately caved in, and he fell silently, never to move again.

The manager-like man’s flexible sword moved as swiftly as a venomous snake, dealing death with a single touch.

Square Face’s men realized what was happening and clamored to escape.

But they couldn’t evade the deadly skills of the two men.

In an instant, the hall became a scene of slaughter.

Fu Tingyun was stunned.

Her impression of these men from the northwest corner had reached an extreme low.

With such overwhelmingly superior skills, why hadn’t they intervened earlier to save lives?

Her gaze inadvertently swept toward the southwest corner.

The rugged-faced man had vanished!

She looked around in alarm.

She didn’t see the rugged-faced man, but she did see the manager-like man thrusting his sword straight into the chest of each person lying in the hall, delivering a finishing blow.

A surge of turbid air roiled in Fu Tingyun’s chest.

She couldn’t help but turn away and vomit.

Someone walked over: “Miss, are you alright?” A handkerchief was offered.