"Let's go!"
Joy flashed across the scar-faced leader's face.
But in the very next instant, the hair on their arms stood on end.
WHUMP!
A blast of cold spear qi shot over from the distance, smashing heavily into the water and sending up countless splashes.
"Who's there?!"
Greatly alarmed, the three men looked in the direction the spear qi had come from.
Chen Qing stood at the prow of a ship, the wind and snow whipping at his robes. "The Wutai Sect is clearing out the remnants of the Demon Sect and is guarding this channel. Leave fifty percent of the goods on your ship as toll money, and you may pass."
"Fifty percent?! Bullshit!"
One of them exploded with rage. "Some little punk who still smells of his mother's milk dares to demand a..."
"Shut up!"
The scar-faced leader barked at his companion.
He had roamed the Jianghu for years, living a dangerous life on the edge of a blade, and his instincts for danger were exceptionally sharp.
