Chapter 65: Not To Be Bullied By Dogs

Chapter 65: Not to Be Bullied by Dogs

Cui Yuanyang, overjoyed, freed his acupoints: "You... you're all right?"

Zhao Changhe stretched his limbs, his face beaming with sunlight.

Good thing you didn't say you only learned acupoint-sealing and not unsealing.

Though he hadn't fully recovered, the dreadful sensation of various debuffs surging in had indeed subsided, especially since his wounds had been properly treated—medicated, bandaged, and the poison removed—making him feel much more comfortable. Add to that the tonics Cui Yuanyang had fed him, which replenished blood and qi while also boosting vitality, and they unexpectedly suited his current condition. The pain from the chaotic blood fiend gradually eased, and his fatigue lessened considerably.

Though still not at full strength, he could handle less intense battles without much trouble, leaving him far more room to maneuver.

Coming into the woods to rest and recover had been precisely to achieve this outcome, and the result now was even better than expected.

"Yuanyang is no burden; she is my comrade in arms." Zhao Changhe couldn't help ruffling her hair, laughing. "Now, let me take over."

Seeing his smiling face, Cui Yuanyang suddenly felt all her earlier panic and confusion vanish.

Even if she were tripped again now, she wouldn't fall! She had forgotten she knew light-footed arts...

The footsteps outside grew closer, and the glow of torches could be faintly seen; at any moment, someone might discover their location.

Cui Yuanyang's heart was in her throat, but Zhao Changhe didn't rush. He glanced around, picked up a stone, leaped onto a tree branch, and placed the stone at a slight tilt, making it look as if it might fall at any moment.

Only then did he descend from the tree, take Cui Yuanyang's hand, and stealthily creep toward the Qing River.

After about a quarter of an hour, the stone he had placed finally fell to the ground with a thud.

"Over there!" Countless voices rang out, followed by a flurry of chaos.

From a distance, Zhao Changhe and Cui Yuanyang crouched behind a bush, watching as the group that would have encountered them turned back with shouts and cries, charging along the original path.

"Let's go." Zhao Changhe pulled Cui Yuanyang and fled swiftly. Even the rustling of their quickened footsteps went unnoticed, for the sounds of footsteps were too numerous everywhere...

Cui Yuanyang felt an immense peace in her heart; as long as he was here, there were no difficulties.

"Don't be careless," Zhao Changhe whispered. "For now, most of them have been drawn away, but there are still scattered individuals everywhere... Here they come."

As he spoke, he suddenly tugged Cui Yuanyang and darted behind another thicket.

Ahead, three men approached, carrying torches.

Zhao Changhe silently leaned close to Cui Yuanyang's ear: "I'll count three, two, one, and we move together. I'll take the two taller ones; you kill the shortest. Squeeze my hand if you understand."

Cui Yuanyang's ear tingled, and her face was already flushed, but she said nothing. She gave a soft squeeze in his palm to signal understanding, then released it.

They held their breath, hiding there, silently waiting for the three to draw near.

"Three... two... one!"

A flash of blade light, a burst of sword radiance.

The three fell silently, not even a grunt escaping.

Zhao Changhe darted forward, catching the torch before it hit the ground, then swaggered forward with Cui Yuanyang.

Before long, they encountered another group with torches face to face. Zhao Changhe still strode boldly forward, even calling out first: "Any sign of them?"

"No, they went that way just now, and now there's no sound. Probably some wild beast. Strange, this Zhao Changhe sure knows how to hide... Hey, you..."

"Shwish!" Blade light rose again, sword radiance reappeared.

The same distribution—three more fell dead on the spot.

"Let's go." The forest edge was near. Zhao Changhe abandoned the torch and, with no further concealment, pulled Cui Yuanyang to sprint at full speed with their light-footed arts.

The moon was bright, the stars sparse; a gentle breeze blew.

In her flight, Cui Yuanyang truly found what she had sought when she ran away from home—the thrill she wanted to feel.

But now the girl no longer had the excitement she felt when she first left home, because this thrill was not actually beautiful; it came with cruelty, whether to others or to oneself.

Perhaps the next moment, it would be her own death.

Just as she thought this, a leisurely voice came from the side: "Zhao Changhe truly lives up to being among the top hundred of the Hidden Dragon, dragging a burden along, and nearly fought his way out from the mass blockade of the Heinei underworld... But unfortunately, this is where it ends."

Zhao Changhe stopped, looking at the ghostly figure drifting over, his face as calm as still water.

Cui Yuanyang also halted, sighing inwardly.

The expert had finally arrived.

In truth, there had been experts before—the boatman and the boatwoman were both at the Third Gate, yet they waited for the rear boat to arrive before acting. Clearly, there were experts at the Fourth or Fifth Gate, or even stronger, on other boats or by the shore. But Zhao Changhe's strategy had been sound: he struck and fled, even using arrows to block boats, so he never faced them head-on.

Yet experts were not made of mud; their movements were within this area, and they would always be found.

This was the final trial.

The ghostly figure drifted over, revealing a pale, gaunt man. His cold gaze swept over Zhao Changhe, then landed on Cui Yuanyang's face, turning greedy: "Young Miss Cui, why have you made yourself so filthy? No need, no need. Come back with me, wash yourself fragrant, serve me well, and I might not even bother with the bounty."

Cui Yuanyang found she felt no anger; her heart was full of contempt: "Who are you?"

The gaunt man said leisurely, "'No Need' Qi Bubi—have you heard of me, young lady?"

Cui Yuanyang had never heard of him. What low-level bandit was this?

Zhao Changhe, however, had heard the mountain brothers mention him... Because when men gather, they often talk about professions like flower thieves, and this one was quite famous. Whenever his victim struggled, he would laugh and say, "No need, no need, this is very comfortable." Thus his nickname, and he even changed his name to match. This was the first person Zhao Changhe had met with a formal nickname, someone who could be called "a figure."

To be a figure, one's cultivation naturally couldn't be too low; otherwise, he would have been cut down before his reputation spread.

He had long been at the Fourth Gate; whether he had reached the Fifth was unknown, but even if not, he was likely on the threshold.

In fact, Fang Buping was also at this level. If this man hadn't broken through the Fifth Gate, his actual combat strength might not match Fang Buping's, since Fang was a branch leader, higher in status. But back then, Zhao Changhe was fully prepared and poised to strike. What state was Zhao Changhe in now?

Bruised and battered, exhausted, he had to ambush even minor foes, and he had run out of lime powder.

In Qi Bubi's eyes, Zhao Changhe was now a piece of fish belly. As for Cui Yuanyang, at the Third Gate? She didn't count as a person.

Qi Bubi tapped a folding fan as he swayed closer to the two, his gaze constantly roving over Cui Yuanyang's face. How he could see beauty in her current filthy, rabbit-like state was a mystery... Cui Yuanyang gripped her sword tightly, her heart lacking confidence, and she stole a glance at Zhao Changhe, who had remained silent.

That glance nearly made her drop her sword in fright.

Zhao Changhe, who had been smiling sunnily after his recovery, now wore a dark, ferocious expression. His eyes had turned blood-red—not a metaphor, nor the usual reddening of his pupils when he used his art, but as if the whites and irises had all turned red together, looking utterly terrifying.

Cui Yuanyang instantly understood what Zhao Changhe was doing.

He was deliberately releasing the blood fiend aura he had always suppressed, letting it surge into his brain, actively plunging himself into mindless madness!

This was the first time Zhao Changhe had gone mad since cultivating the Blood Fiend Art, and he did so willingly.

In a berserk, mindless state, he could ignore all injuries and pain, and mobilize his entire blood fiend energy to its peak, compensating for his earlier depletion. Strictly speaking, the berserk state was the complete form of the Blood Fiend Art, but it lacked combat intelligence. Whether it would increase or decrease his fighting ability was uncertain, but for this moment, there was no other option.

Cui Yuanyang was deeply worried, but she knew what to do... Brother Zhao, when he was about to go berserk earlier, had repeatedly told her: stay far away from me.

She suddenly sheathed her sword and ran to the side.

Qi Bubi thought the little rabbit was trying to flee, and chuckled, "Don't be in a hurry, miss. Let me take your lover's head first, then I'll slowly deal with you."

Before the words faded, a great alarm rose in his heart.

It was like being targeted by a pack of wolves in the forest, countless gleaming green wolf eyes staring at him in the night, a numbing sensation spreading through his body.

A hoarse voice came from beside him: "Zhao's head is not something just anything is qualified to take..."

Qi Bubi stiffly turned his head and saw a pair of blood-red pupils. The gleaming steel blade was suffused with a bloody hue, as if a demon blade had been reborn.

The crescent moon hung like a hook in the sky, and Zhao Changhe himself seemed like a blood god descending to the mortal world.

He hadn't even drawn his blade, yet it already seemed to seize the soul.

"Roar!" Zhao Changhe could no longer tell who was before him; it was just a living being, the obstacle in his path at this moment.

With a beast-like roar, his mad blade rent the air, wind and clouds churned wildly, heaven and earth wailed!

A single casual slash, and gods and buddhas were scattered!