Chapter 110: The Ambush

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The village, the ancestral hall.
The originally spacious and bright main hall was now shrouded in gloom, filled with a deathly stillness. The air was thick with a nauseating, fishy stench.
A man in a black robe walked in and spoke respectfully toward the shadows above: "Hall Master Fu, Hall Master Zhao, the people from Hongyun Escort Agency have arrived. Tan Donghe is among them."
In the shadows above stood two figures. The man on the left was thin and small, his face covered in pockmarks, his eyes glowing with a faint, eerie green light. To his right stood an old Taoist priest, dressed in robes and holding a long sword. These were the two hall masters the black-robed man had referred to.
Hall Master Fu sneered, "The intelligence was correct. There really is a secret cargo. It seems the military pay must be hidden within those shipments."
"Then what shall we do now...?" The black-robed man’s eyes turned cold as he made a throat-slitting gesture.
Hall Master Zhao shook his head. "No need to rush. It is not easy to cultivate disciples in our hall. To avoid unnecessary losses, we shall strike at midnight."
"Understood!" The black-robed man nodded and turned to leave.
Zhao and Fu exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with malice.
"I never expected the information to be true," Zhao whispered.
Fu pondered for a moment before saying, "There is little left to exploit here. Once we seize the military pay, we will burn this hall to the ground, leaving no evidence behind, and then seek out a new base."

...

Tan Donghe looked stunned. "Dead? How did they die?"
"A severe illness, no money for medicine, and in the end, they were gone." Old Man Hou bowed, his voice trembling. "If you don't mind, sir, this humble old man..."
Tan Donghe sighed and waved his hand. "Forget it, forget it. Just arrange some lodging for my men."
After all, with a large group of men, it wasn't appropriate for an old man to be cooking for them.
Old Man Hou then arranged quarters for the group, even giving up his own room.
Yang Xing asked, "Where will you sleep?"
"Don't worry, sir, this humble one will make do in the woodshed for the night," Old Man Hou replied hastily. "If you need anything, just give a shout."
With that, the old man headed toward the woodshed. Seeing this, Yang Xing had A-San bring a quilt to the old man. It was barely a quilt, just a few tattered rags.
Tan Donghe couldn't help but lament, "Old Man Hou has had a miserable life. His son is dead, his daughter-in-law is dead, his grandson is dead, and now his granddaughter-in-law is gone too."
Even this veteran escort leader, who had seen much of life and death, felt a twinge of compassion.
Yang Xing took a deep breath. "Truly miserable."
Tan Donghe waved his hand. "Don't think too much about it. Eat some rations and get some rest. We have to travel tomorrow morning. We'll just leave the old man some extra silver then."
The men from the Sanhe Escort Agency and Hongyun Escort Agency ate their rations and settled down to sleep.
The night was deep and quiet, the summer breeze carrying a touch of sultry heat.
Yang Xing sat cross-legged on the wooden bed, practicing the "Xuanwu Sutra." He had reached the final stage; as long as he could guide the dark energy into his lower Dantian, he would be able to generate true Qi. Every day he practiced, he made slow, steady progress.

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Yang Xing naturally would not waste a moment. Soon, it was deep into the night. The night grew heavier, and the village, the woods, the gullies, and the ditches all fell into a mysterious silence.
"Hm!?" Yang Xing’s eyes snapped open.
"Stop sleeping! There’s movement!"
Tan Donghe sprang up, his body launching into the air as he shouted.
Boom!
A moment later, a violent force struck, and the dilapidated wall collapsed with a crash. Dust filled the ruined shack.
"Kill!"
A figure surged out from the dust, followed by several others.
"Who goes there!?" Tan Donghe roared.
"The ones who are here for your life!"
It was none other than Hall Master Zhao from the ancestral hall. He extended his palm, his long sword flashing like a streak of light toward Tan Donghe. Though the strike was a simple "Opening the Door to See the Mountain," it was filled with lethal intent.
Tan Donghe, known as the "Iron Palm," was no mere braggart. He practiced the "Grinding Mill" mental cultivation, which generated a thick, heavy, and powerful internal energy. Combined with his fierce fist technique, it was as if he held a millstone in his hands, perfectly fluid and unified.
Boom!
Tan Donghe struck out with a palm that looked unremarkable but directly blocked Zhao’s sword path.
Bang! Bang!
As the two clashed, their explosive energy rippled outward, shattering the surrounding doors, windows, and wooden beds into dust.
Hall Master Zhao gave a sharp cry, his sword flashing again, the very air seeming to crack under the pressure of his energy.
"A Dantian-stage expert!?" Tan Donghe’s heart sank, and he hurriedly engaged him.
They traded blows, the clash of their energy causing the ground to crack and the house to crumble into a chaotic mess.
Boom!
The two collided with such force that the entire shack began to sway, and with a thunderous roar, it finally collapsed.
The others had already moved away before the fight began. Wooden beams and stones rained down on the combatants, only to be pulverized by their powerful energy.
"Quick, protect the cargo!" Tan Donghe retreated, steadying himself before shouting, "Do not let it fall into their hands!"
Hall Master Zhao laughed grimly. "Don't worry, your head and the cargo will both be mine." With that, he charged at Tan Donghe again.
Meanwhile, the experts from the Sanhe Escort Agency were also being pinned down. These attackers were formidable, all at least at the Dark Energy stage, with many at the Transformation stage.
"Kill!"

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Lu Yan, known as the "Eight-Direction Hammer," brandished his heavy iron hammer and charged forward.
Tang Bo extended his arms, his "Sanhe Hand" technique pushed to the limit. With a single strike, he felled two of the black-robed men. However, a man wielding a long saber soon intercepted him. The saber-wielder’s technique was skilled and vicious; within moments, Tang Bo was on the defensive, nearly having his throat slit several times.
Yang Xing drew his ghost-head saber and plunged into the fray.
In the ruined courtyard, the sounds of battle were deafening. The black-robed men swarmed toward Yang Xing, their weapons flashing with cold, lethal intent.
Yang Xing remained unmoved, his gaze focused and calm. The ghost-head saber danced in his hands, cutting through the air with a sharp, whistling sound.
Slash!
Slash!
In an instant, two black-robed men fell under his blade, their blood staining the steel deep red.
"Senior Brother Gao, there’s a tough one here!" the surrounding men shouted, their hearts turning cold.
"Get out of the way!" Senior Brother Gao sneered. He stomped his foot, lunging at Yang Xing and throwing a punch toward his chest. The fist strike was fierce and overbearing, causing the air to howl; Yang Xing’s clothes whipped violently in the wake of the strike.
What a powerful fist technique!
Yang Xing’s expression remained calm. A faint golden glow covered his body, and he settled his stance, his internal blood surging as he met the blow with a heavy palm strike.
Bang!
The moment fist met palm, a massive sound erupted. Senior Brother Gao’s expression changed drastically as he felt the bones in his arm begin to shatter, and he scrambled backward in terror.
Yang Xing’s speed was immense; he surged forward, delivering a whip kick that struck like a raging storm.
Boom!
A sonic boom echoed as Senior Brother Gao’s vision filled with the shadow of the kick. Unstable and unable to dodge, he could only cross his arms in a desperate attempt to block.
Yang Xing twisted his body, the heavy, powerful kick sweeping through with explosive force.
Thud!
The kick landed squarely on Senior Brother Gao’s shoulder. The man was sent flying like an arrow from a bow, crashing into the ground. He coughed up a spray of blood and died on the spot.
The surrounding black-robed men were horrified; they never expected Yang Xing to be so terrifyingly strong. Even Senior Brother Gao had fallen to him.
Slash!
At that moment, the man with the long saber struck, his blade slicing through Tang Bo’s neck. Blood sprayed like a fountain, and the head of "Sanhe Hand" Tang Bo fell to the ground, his eyes still wide with terror.
"You lot, take the silver back to the secret altar! I will finish this kid off with Old Yu!" the saber-wielder commanded the others, charging directly toward Yang Xing. The rest of the men lunged toward the cargo carts like wolves.