Mo Xidao truly hadn't expected that a merchant could possess such cultivation!
He knew many secrets within the Snake Guard, and Prince Yi had also investigated, but no one had ever mentioned or known that Wu Yidao could cultivate! And seeing his skill in controlling the arrows to defend himself, his cultivation was extraordinary! The twenty-odd arrows shot towards him like lightning, and Mo Xidao, still in mid-air, had no time to dodge.
Fortunately, he had a sword in his hand.
Mo Xidao, with a sword in his hand, never easily admits defeat.
A burst of sword energy exploded before him, radiating a dazzling white light, as if he were holding not a ring-pommel sword, but a blazing sun. The white light grew brighter and brighter before him, until even his figure began to blur. The twenty-odd arrows struck the white light one after another, disappearing like raindrops falling on a red-hot iron, as if they had evaporated.
But it wasn't evaporation; rather, a sharp, tornado-like blade of energy shredded the arrow.
Wu Yidao, sitting cross-legged in the carriage, frowned slightly, seemingly surprised to find such a master. Transforming internal energy into sharp blade energy was rare indeed. After all, most cultivators relied on powerful palm strikes or fists to injure. To convert internal energy into such sharpness required exceptional talent, not something easily acquired through effort.
Mo Xidao slowly descended from mid-air, stopping about five meters away from Wu Yidao. The dazzling, sun-like blade of energy still swirled in his hand, seemingly ready to fly at Wu Yidao at any moment.
"The richest man in the Great Sui Dynasty is actually a cultivator; that's truly astonishing."
Mo Xidao couldn't help but sigh, then slowly extended his right hand, holding the sun-like energy: "But today you still must die."
After saying this, the sun in his hand suddenly exploded. Like intense sunlight tearing through the clouds, dazzling beams of light shot out. Mo Xidao, standing to one side of the light, exuded an imposing aura, like a divine general wielding an unparalleled weapon.
It was a rapidly approaching barrage of blade energy, incomparably sharp.
In the blink of an eye, thousands upon thousands of blade energies had already reached Wu Yidao.
The carriage began to shatter, splintering wood.
Just as the blade energy was about to strike Wu Yidao, he, whose expression had remained calm throughout, pointed forward a second time. Then, the blade energy shattered as if it had struck a mountain—a mountain that no amount of sharpness or power could shake.
This mountain, invisible yet thick and solid, shielded Wu Yidao completely. Thousands upon thousands of blade energies continued to fall, but they could not penetrate that invisible mountain. The air in front of Wu Yidao began to distort. The successive waves of sword energy were so fast that the temperature in the area began to rise, and faint crackling sounds could be heard.
Mo Xidao's expression changed drastically, and he raised his right arm high.
At that moment, the sun in his hand shone with dazzling brilliance.
The sword energy, like the endless rays of the sun, relentlessly slashed forward, attempting to cleave the invisible mountain in front of Wu Yidao. If this continued, even the thickest and most solid mountain might gradually crumble. But Wu Yidao, sitting on half of the carriage, seemed completely unconcerned; his expression remained unchanged. No one could feel the sharp sword energy more directly than him, as it slashed densely one after another, only to be dispersed, about a meter in front of him.
He hadn't left the carriage, even when facing the enemy, he had only raised a finger twice.
It seemed that his remaining strength was even greater than Mo Xidao's.
Therefore, Mo Xidao decided to attack with all his might, and with his right arm raised, he began to step forward. Walking is a simple thing; children can toddle around the age of one. Every able-bodied person can walk, but now, Mo Xidao seemed unable to. It was as if an invisible wall stood before him, or as if many people were pulling at his clothes from behind. Every step forward was extremely difficult, and his strides were pitifully small.
Even so, he gritted his teeth and pressed on.
The closer he got to Wu Yidao, the brighter the sun in his hand seemed to become. The distance between them gradually decreased from five meters to four meters. Although it was only a short meter, there was no doubt that the blade energy attacking Wu Yidao was more than twice as dense and intense as before.
The distortion of the air in front of Wu Yidao became increasingly obvious, as if it were about to explode at any moment.
Mo Xidao had only taken one meter before he was already drenched in sweat. He tried to move closer, to make his blade energy even more abundant and sharp. But his legs felt as if they were bound with massive boulders, making it impossible to lift his feet any further. His body began to lean forward, his right arm, gripping the sun, reaching further and further ahead. His body seemed to tilt at an absurd angle without falling.
Strangely, his body remained frozen in this posture, as if immobilized. The sun in Mo Xidao's hand grew dimmer, as if veiled in mist.
Sweat gradually beaded on Mo Xidao's forehead, yet not a single drop fell! This was completely illogical; how could sweat remain still?
A few seconds later, the sun in Mo Xidao's right hand finally went out.
No light remained, only a right hand and a ring-pommel sword.
Mo Xidao's body trembled slightly, as if struggling with all his might. But he could no longer move, neither forward nor backward.
"You…you are not…you are not Wu Yidao!"
He shouted these words with all his might, his eyes filled with despair. This wasn't the first time he had felt this way. Last time, he had been utterly powerless to resist. Before this man, he was less than a toddler learning to walk. He had lost his freedom, as if imprisoned.
Sitting cross-legged on the carriage, "Wu Yidao" smiled, his tone flat: "Only understand now? How foolish."
...
...
Outside the East City.
Fifteen li from Chunhe Gate.
Dozens of burly men came galloping from behind, abandoning the carriage they had been protecting. The carriage in front didn't seem to be in a hurry to escape, and was quickly overtaken by assassins disguised as bodyguards. These men were all Snake Guards under Prince Yi, their origins either as villains of the martial world or as scum of the military.
After catching up, these dozens of men quickly surrounded the carriage, forming several layers around it. They didn't rush to attack, but waited for orders.
Behind them, Zhang Kuang, with a sword strapped to his back, and Fang Henshui, dressed in a scholar's robe, approached.
The Snake Guards spontaneously made way for Zhang Kuang, who slowly walked into the crowd. His face was pale, his chest heaving slightly, clearly indicating his turmoil. He couldn't be sure who was in the carriage—Fang Jie or Wu Yidao? If it was the latter, he would order the Snake Guards to attack without hesitation. But if it was the former, he didn't know if he could overcome the mental hurdle.
Fang Henshui followed behind him, a smile on his face.
But his eyes held a hint of excitement, a morbid excitement.
"What, still haven't made up your mind?"
Fang Henshui asked Zhang Kuang with a smile.
"Shut up!"
Zhang Kuang turned and glanced at him coldly, saying, "Even if you're a guest of honor of the Prince, it's not your place to give orders today. I'm the deputy captain of the Snake Guards; when and how we act is up to me. If you say another word, I'll order you to be dismembered!"
"Impressive."
Fang Henshui shrugged, saying nothing more. But his expression showed no concern, his eyes filled with mockery.
Zhang Kuang took a deep breath, took two steps forward, clasped his hands, and asked, "Excuse me, is the person in the carriage Wu Yidao, the Marquis of Sanjin?"
No one answered from inside the carriage. The coachman outside seemed to snort coldly but made no move.
After waiting a while, Zhang Kuang asked again, "If it is the Marquis of Sanjin, please get out of the carriage for a chat. If it is someone else, please also get out and meet us. We are only looking for the Marquis of Sanjin; it has nothing to do with anyone else."
The person inside the carriage still did not answer.
"Is it... Fang Jie?"
Zhang Kuang asked again after a moment of silence.
"If Fang Jie saw it was you, he would be so angry he would vomit blood. He probably never imagined that his good friend would one day become his deadly enemy."
Finally, someone answered from inside the carriage. The voice was somewhat unfamiliar, and Zhang Kuang couldn't recognize it.
Just as he was wondering, the carriage suddenly shattered into pieces with a loud crash. The entire carriage was torn open from the inside and instantly disintegrated. The Snake Guards, startled, involuntarily took a step back, focusing their attention before finally seeing who was inside the carriage. Upon seeing them, everyone gasped in shock.
It wasn't Wu Yidao.
nor was it Fang Jie.
But rather, two towering men, each over two meters tall. Equally broad-shouldered and muscular, equally robust and imposing. Standing before them, they were like two towering structures suddenly appearing from the sky. One man extended his left hand, the other his right. In their palms stood a thin, dark-skinned boy.
These two men were Qilin and Nie Xiaoju.
The boy they held was, of course, the dark-skinned boy, Yan Kuang. And the one who floated lightly into the air after the carriage shattered, drifting like a kite for a moment, was none other than the scholar Chen Xiaoru.
It was a truly shocking scene: two burly men, each over two meters tall, were supporting a dark-skinned boy with his arms crossed and a cold smile, while the coachman somehow managed to float in mid-air for a moment before landing like a wisp of cotton.
With two such imposing figures sitting in the carriage, it was no wonder Mo Xidao could tell at a glance that the carriage was heavier.
"Haha."
Fang Henshui, standing behind Zhang Kuang, couldn't help but laugh: "So I overestimated you. I thought following you would at least lead someone to the main character. Either Fang Jie or Wu Yidao, but it turns out to be a few second-rate followers… Oh dear, your position as deputy commander of the Snake Guard isn't very convincing either."
Zhang Kuang's face was grim. He had recognized Qilin as the one who had spoken earlier. Those words stung his heart, followed by a surge of hatred. No Wu Yidao, no Fang Jie—he was disappointed. It was at this moment that he realized he had long been prepared to turn against his former friends and brothers.
So he coldly ordered, "Kill them all."
Dozens of snake guards responded and charged forward, swords drawn. Zhang Kuang didn't move. Although the two towering men were intimidating, he didn't believe these four could withstand dozens of well-trained snake guards. The individual snake guards might not be very strong, but their teamwork was flawless.
These snake guards were all capable of cultivation, the weakest being at least a third-rank cultivator. With such skills, combined with the Sui Dynasty's military formation, Zhang Kuang was confident that seven or eight snake guards could wear down a sixth or seventh-rank expert. Of course, it was uncertain how many snake guards would survive.
However, he soon realized he was wrong.
Those four men were hardly human.
The dark-skinned boy, though small, possessed punches as heavy as mountains.
He alone had completely disrupted the snake guards' formation. The two burly men were even more astonishing. One could kill instantly with a copper rod, but the other used only a few threaded embroidery needles! The coachman, seemingly unconcerned about being surrounded, sat in his carriage watching like a spectator, his eyes narrowed, showing no intention of intervening.
Zhang Kuang couldn't help but glance at Fang Henshui, only to see that this man, exuding an extremely sinister aura, had already turned and walked away.
"Without Fang Jie, without Wu Yidao… Although I still have a slight interest in killing, I've decided to check other routes. These people aren't enough to keep me here."
Hearing this, Zhang Kuang suddenly understood; the ten carriages leaving the city might all be a decoy.
Then, where were Fang Jie and Wu Yidao?