Chapter 37: Awe Inspiring Beimang

Chapter 37: Awe-Inspiring Might Over Beimang

Zhao Changhe truly had no idea that the “passerby he’d spared” was actually a figure on the Hidden Dragon List; just earlier he’d been lamenting that this godforsaken place couldn’t even yield a single person from the Chaos Era List…

He had originally assumed that after he issued his arrogant declaration, the first to come knocking would be the authorities.

After all, what wanted fugitive would be so brazen as to flaunt their whereabouts, like parading through the streets with a sign on their forehead reading “Come catch me!”?

It was just that there was no point in hiding anymore—his location had been sold out, even those idiots knew it, so the authorities were bound to find out. What difference did it make whether he hid or not?

His status as a wanted man differed from that of an ordinary murderer. Once his whereabouts were known, the officials who came would most likely be Chief Tang himself or some other important figure. Even if it were lower-ranking soldiers, the odds were they’d be ordered to take him alive, not just chop him down casually.

So he might as well sit down and talk with them. So far, he knew far too little about the authorities, and having such skewed information wasn’t good.

But what he hadn’t expected was that he waited and waited, and the authorities never showed up… Whether it was because the imperial bureaucracy in these dying days was truly that inefficient, or for some other reason, the only ones who came were all “people of the underworld.”

“Clang!” A long blade snapped, and a scrawny man was kicked several yards away by Zhao Changhe, coughing up blood as he struggled on the ground.

“Strip his clothes and hang him upside down! Damn it, I said a challenge costs a hundred taels, and you come empty-handed to freeload? Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do than wait for your challenges? If you don’t pay, you lose your clothes—that’s the rule. Haven’t you heard in half a month?”

“Sp-spare me, Chief Zhao! I really hadn’t heard…”

Zhao Changhe shaded his eyes with his hand, looking at the several people already dangling and swaying in the distance. His face wore a fierce expression, but inside he was thoroughly pleased.

It had been over half a month since he’d issued that arrogant notice.

In these weeks, challengers had come in droves, and their combat strength was remarkably well-matched—mostly those at the first or second level of the Mystic Barrier looking for trouble, occasionally even ganging up on him. This was an absolute delight for his practical training.

Practicing alone wasn’t enough; martial arts weren’t dance moves—they required real combat. Now, fighting in the stronghold had stopped yielding improvement, and no one dared to spar with him. He’d been worrying about where to train, and this endless stream of sparring partners was a godsend.

Among them were quite a few tough nuts, the kind that could trip you up if you weren’t careful. The tougher, the better. As he fought on and on, Zhao Changhe felt his blade techniques becoming more and more ingrained, truly like an extension of his own arm.

It also greatly boosted his cultivation of techniques. Over these days, Zhao Changhe sensed his inner and outer energies merging, growing stronger, and he was on the verge of another breakthrough.

Inner and outer, second heaven?

He didn’t know how many more days it would take; he felt he was still a bit short of the mark. He really wasn’t much of a genius. But these days were genuinely satisfying—very satisfying. Even if none of these people paid a single copper coin, Zhao Changhe would still be happy.

Besides, some actually did pay… And those who didn’t bring money but broke the rules still had weapons that could be seized.

In just half a month, the road on Beimang Mountain was lined with hanging challengers. The silver in the treasury had surged from the original three hundred taels to nearly two thousand, and a whole storehouse was piled with fine blades and swords.

“Dig a pit trap here too—right, right at my doorstep. Are you afraid I’ll step into it? And one behind the house as well.”

Inside the stronghold, there was bustling activity everywhere, not for martial training, but for setting up all kinds of traps.

Because lately, quite a few had tried to raid the stronghold at night to sneakily take Zhao Changhe’s head.

Of course, those who attempted such things were no longer hanging upside down on the mountain road—their heads were now hoisted on flagpoles. Looking at the row of heads along the stronghold’s edge, the bandits regarded their chief with a mix of awe and fear.

Who said this chief was soft, that he didn’t rob or plunder? When he chopped off heads, his eyes didn’t even blink. The more blood on his hands, the thicker the aura of bloodlust around him. From a distance, you could feel the demonic energy radiating from him.

That was true killing intent soaring to the heavens, awe-inspiring might over Beimang.

In the past day or two, no one dared to launch night raids anymore, but they couldn’t let their guard down. According to Chief Zhao, spring was coming soon, and government troops might arrive. These traps weren’t just for dealing with underworld figures—they’d also be crucial against an official attack.

So the traps had to be placed not only inside the stronghold but also outside, in places like the back hills—nowhere could be overlooked.

A bunch of idle bandits who always thought about where to rob suddenly found themselves caught up in a fervor of construction, with not a single one daring to pay lip service.

Zhao Changhe’s prestige was now too high.

Zhao Changhe himself stood with arms crossed, watching, and felt that he was truly damn great—he was turning ghosts into men!

But he also knew that his reign wouldn’t last long.

Generally speaking, experts above the third level of the Mystic Barrier wouldn’t bother coming to snatch some “Hidden Dragon two-hundred-fiftieth” spot… And true experts understood the nature of the Hidden Dragon List better; they wouldn’t be like the fools here who thought it could be taken by challenge. Still, it was hard to rule out entirely. In this world, not many could read and reason—it wasn’t an era of compulsory education.

For now, there were no strong figures near Mount Mang, making it a perfect novice village for his practical training. But news of what happened here would always spread, and eventually, a third-level Mystic Barrier expert might come… Travel was inconvenient in this world, so the process would take some time, but it was inevitable.

Were the pit traps really for dealing with government troops?

No, they were for dealing with potential risks—whether the imminent third-level expert or the possibly healed Fang Buping.

“Chief.” Wang Dashan approached cautiously: “Today is New Year’s Eve. Does the chief have any plans?”

“I’m not your wife. Why ask me about the holiday?”

“?”

Zhao Changhe said, “We’ve got plenty of silver in the stronghold lately. Give everyone red envelopes. Also, take some men to town to buy wine and meat. Tonight, let the brothers enjoy themselves with good food and drink.”

Wang Dashan’s face lit up: “Yes, I’ll go right away.”

Watching Wang Dashan scurry off happily, a trace of mockery flickered in Zhao Changhe’s eyes.

This deputy chief wasn’t honest. Lately, he’d been secretly colluding with Fang Buping—not to mention that Zhao Changhe knew the first challengers who came knocking were summoned by this very man.

In other words, the news of his presence on Mount Mang had been leaked by this guy and Fang Buping together.

Want to be chief, huh?

Hmph…

But for now, Zhao Changhe didn’t want Fang Buping to know he’d seen through his spy. Knowing who the spy was was better than having someone else planted later without his knowledge. He’d keep using him for now—the guy worked hard to earn his trust, and that was a good deal.

Besides, there wasn’t much secret Wang Dashan could leak. Zhao Changhe practiced his inner cultivation in bed—what did that fool know?

The urgent task was to break through to the second level of the Mystic Barrier first, then worry about the rest.

As for the New Year?

What did that have to do with him? There was no lady of the stronghold in his house. What was the point of celebrating alone?

Watching the stronghold erupt in cheers at the news of a big feast tonight, Zhao Changhe felt a deep loneliness instead. At this moment, he especially missed home, missed his parents.

The joys and sorrows of humans do not intermingle.

He sighed softly, looked up at the sun dipping westward, and turned back into his room.

Better to train.

“Chief Zhao, whose roar shakes the mountains and whose might awes Beimang—why the sigh?” As soon as he stepped inside, a woman’s voice laughed. “From behind, you look so different from the fierce and bold man you show outside.”

Zhao Changhe halted, startled.

A figure in red robes leaned casually by the window, flipping through the scriptures of the Blood God Sect. Seeing him enter, she looked up and smiled.

The setting sun streamed through the lattice, and the chivalrous woman’s smile was free and bright, as if the evening glow outside had brightened with it.

Sunset red plumes against the twilight—a beauty beyond mortal scenes.

Though the master of Luo Manor had questionable character, that description was utterly apt.

“Miss Yue… why are you here?” Zhao Changhe felt a bit nervous. He knew the gap between himself and Yue Hongling. What if she disapproved of his recent killing spree…

Huh… wait…

Zhao Changhe suddenly noticed that the color on Yue Hongling’s lower abdomen was off… A deeper stain on the red robe—it wasn’t the robe’s color, but blood.

She was injured?

Yue Hongling knew what he was thinking and shook her head with a wry smile: “Yes, I’m injured. You’re the only acquaintance I have here. Is it so strange that I’d come to you when hurt? Did you really think I came to exorcise demons? You seem bold and fierce, but you have too many thoughts—not straightforward at all.”

Without a word, Zhao Changhe turned to rummage through the cabinet for medicine and bandages: “Same to you. A chivalrous woman who would let a stranger sit behind her without any caution probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to emerge from the Hidden Dragon.”

“Ha…” Yue Hongling tilted her head to look at him. “So, back then, when you weren’t aware of all this, were you a simple and innocent youth?”

A thousand thoughts flooded his mind. Zhao Changhe gazed absently at the setting sun outside the window, and after a long moment, he replied softly, “Yes.”

"Then..." Yue Hongling looked at the bandages he had taken out, and whispered, "Can I still trust you, the you of today?"