Blood Flowing Around the Cart

Lin Xi spoke with utmost sincerity, while Tang Ke reciprocated with equal honesty. Had it been anyone else, they might have refrained from revealing the daily casualties faced by the Qianxia Border Army. 

The glorifying lyrics celebrating Director Zhang's triumphs implied that, following the Battle of Falling Star, the Southern Mo Kingdom had remained untroubled for fifty years. 

This, however, was not entirely a falsehood, for it was indeed that very battle which led to the internal strife and eventual downfall of the Southern Mo Kingdom, resulting in a regime change and the rise of the Great Mang Dynasty. Over the past decade, the formidable cavalry of the Southern Mo Kingdom had been replaced by the ghostly riders of the Great Mang Dynasty, entangled with the Longshe Border Army. 

Yet, the distinction was clear to any reasonable mind. 

Discussing such matters felt somewhat like undermining the reputation of Director Zhang. 

It was precisely due to this mutual candor that Lin Xi and Tang Ke engaged in lively conversation; however, Tang Ke still could not comprehend why Lin Xi desired to traverse the Tian Teng Mountain Range and venture into the desolate, snow-laden wilderness. 

Lin Xi found himself unable to explain that both he and the middle-aged man hailed from entirely different worlds, where the inscription on the stone tablet was written in simplified characters he could understand. Such revelations would surely lead Tang Ke to deem him utterly delusional. 

Having learned from the arduous journey of the preceding days, Lin Xi and the other freshmen of the Zhi Ge faction had discreetly stashed enough provisions for two days. With no intention of venturing out recklessly, he spent the remainder of the afternoon engaging in idle chatter. That first night in the Zhi Ge freshmen's hall, Lin Xi fell into a deep slumber in his room. The tranquility of this space, even more serene than that of Lulin Town, combined with the purer air filtering through the wooden lattice windows, allowed him to sleep soundly. 

...

In the distance, upon an unnamed hillside, an old, dilapidated cart lay at rest. 

Two aged horses, having been unhitched, were tethered to the edge of a grove, their heads lowered as they slowly chewed on the moist, tender grass. Beside the cart, a fire crackled, and the elderly man who had traversed a significant portion of the Yun Qin Empire to bring Lin Xi to the shores of Ling Xia Lake was intently roasting a split hare. 

The hare had turned a golden brown, and after sprinkling it with a layer of snow-white salt, the old man tore off a leg and savored it, a warm look of satisfaction spreading across his face. 

Suddenly, he instinctively hunched over, his posture becoming more stooped. 

A rustle echoed through the dense forest, and an arrow shot like lightning overhead, embedding itself with a dull thud into the rear of the cart, the sturdy frame nearly pierced through, its tail feather quivering violently. 

Yet, even in the face of such an unexpected turn of events, the old man's expression remained largely unchanged. He simply placed the roasted hare and the partially consumed leg on a wooden plank beside the fire, then straightened his back, albeit still slightly hunched. 

"Clap! Clap! Clap!" A round of applause erupted. 

Five assassins clad in black emerged from the woods. The middle-aged man at the forefront, with a pale complexion, a long beard, and a sword slung across his back, exuded an air of refinement. However, the old man did not regard him; instead, he cast a glance at the burly figure beside him and coldly remarked, "So it's you." 

The burly man's face resembled one that had been trampled, his nose oddly flattened, rendering his smile grotesque and sinister. "What? After being knocked down before so many at the academy's grand examination, did you think you could simply walk away unscathed?" 

"Is that all for this punch?" The old man's posture became even more stooped, yet a hint of derision appeared on his face. 

The refined middle-aged man sighed softly, "This punch not only struck him but also tarnished the reputation of the Ting Song Academy." 

"Ting Song Academy is nothing but a second-rate institution; even if someone were to step on its face, no one would care... Truly foolish." 

The old man's voice, icy with evident scorn, momentarily stunned the middle-aged man. Nevertheless, he bowed respectfully, "In that case, I must apologize for the offense…" 

As he bent, a gap opened between him and the old man, ample enough for an arrow to fly through. 

Whoosh! 

An arrow shot past the middle-aged man's shoulder, aimed directly at the old man's brow. Simultaneously, the middle-aged man raised his right hand slightly, causing his sword to slide from its sheath and into his grip. 

Yet, the presence of these five was not the sole threat; hidden within the woods was an archer who displayed remarkable accuracy even in the darkness. The middle-aged man and this archer coordinated seamlessly, a brilliant flash of swordlight emerging, poised to strike. 

"Thud!" 

Just then, a faint sound of flesh being pierced resonated. The middle-aged man trembled violently, as if an invisible force had gripped his right hand, halting his graceful swing. 

"Clang!" 

Meanwhile, the old man sprang forward like a bent bamboo shoot suddenly straightening, a common dagger slicing through the air with precision, striking the arrowhead and igniting a shower of sparks, deflecting the arrow imbued with tremendous force. 

The burly man, who had just leapt forward brandishing a thin, sharp blade, stared in disbelief at his own chest, where a bloom of crimson blossomed, a fragment of the arrow still quivering. 

"Whoosh!" 

At that moment, the second arrow was released, while the middle-aged man stumbled backward, his right hand now slick with blood, resembling a writhing mass of worms. 

"Boom!" 

A cold-faced black-clad assassin immediately positioned himself before the middle-aged man, sweeping his arms, sleeves billowing towards the old man. Simultaneously, another assassin wielding a spear lunged fiercely at the old man's waist, the silver lance shimmering with a glossy green sheen. 

This was not merely a two-pronged attack, but a concerted effort from three adversaries, and with the second arrow now in flight, their coordination was eerily precise, far more terrifying than that of some ruthless bandits. 

Yet, amidst this perilous situation, the old man's expression remained largely unchanged. A layer of azure light enveloped him as countless shadows and the spear struck his form, while his dagger once again intercepted the incoming arrow. 

"Clang!" The assassin on the other side, seemingly conjuring magic, raised an iron shield just in time to block the arrow. 

However, as the sound of the arrow striking the shield echoed, the old man's tightened form sprang forth with terrifying speed, crashing directly into the cold-faced assassin, who let out a pained scream as if struck by a massive tree, tumbling backward. 

Two slender daggers slipped from the old man's grasp, and the spear-wielding assassin, his feet sinking into the ground, wore a face of sheer horror as the old man's outer garment tore open, yet he bore no wounds. 

"Scarlet Scale Armor!" 

Upon glimpsing the unusual red hue within the tear of the old man's garment, the now pale middle-aged man gasped in disbelief, "You... you are from the Black Flag Army…" 

"I might have spared you, but since you recognized my origins, you have only yourself to blame." 

A chilling glint flickered in the old man's dim yellow eyes, and as the first word of his sentence escaped his lips, he stepped onto the head of the tumbling black-clad assassin. 

The archer, caught mid-flight, became a lifeless body, and the old man, akin to a horse trampling a swallow, soared into the air, his dagger effortlessly parrying the long sword swung by the middle-aged man, while his other hand struck mercilessly at the man's throat. 

"Those who cannot even control their breath, yet wish to vie for position in the Four Seasons Plains... Truly, those emerging from second-rate academies are indeed second-rate." 

In the astonished gaze of the burly man, who had already slumped to the ground, he felt a sudden lightness in his hand as the long knife slipped from his grasp into the old man's possession. Then, his body grew cold, and darkness enveloped his vision as he failed to witness the decapitation of the spear-wielding assassin and the shield-bearing assassin in a single, swift confrontation. 

The old man then vanished into the forest with astonishing agility, and mere moments later, a scream echoed through the thicket. 

Covered in blood, the old man emerged slowly from the now silent woods, first retrieving a clean set of clothes from the dilapidated cart before sitting by the fire, entirely unfazed by the thick, lingering stench of blood, as he leisurely chewed on the still-warm hare meat. 

...

"Dong... Dong... Dong..." 

As the first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the partially opened window, Lin Xi was roused by the faint, melodious chime of a bell. 

The corridor of the Zhi Ge freshmen's hall quickly transformed into a bustling marketplace. 

Each newcomer, including Lin Xi, discovered two sets of blue garments and a pair of brand new black cloth shoes waiting at their door upon opening it. 

The blue garments were adorned with delicate embroidery of small swords along the collars and cuffs. 

"Now... within five breaths of time, don your academy attire and emerge; your true first lesson is about to commence," declared the instructor, Mu Qing, clad in a black robe, surveying the newcomers from above as he descended the bronze staircase. 

"Class is starting... class is starting..." 

Lin Xi shook his head, banishing the familiar memories swirling in his mind, and picked up the blue academy garments placed at his doorstep.