Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilderness Chapter 105: The Lone Shadow on the Ancient Bridge
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Along the tree-lined path, three figures rode horseback. Leading was a man about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. He had abandoned the flowing Daoist robe for a simple coarse cloth tunic, yet his handsome features and composed demeanor remained unchanged. His aura radiated the power of a fifth-level Qi Refiner, fully embodying the spirit of a cultivated Daoist master.
Close behind him was a woman, also dressed plainly in simple clothes with her black hair neatly tied. Her graceful features shone with an ethereal beauty, and the strength of her fourth-level Qi Refinement added an otherworldly charm.
Trailing at the rear was a young man, about sixteen or seventeen, clad in coarse cloth, wearing a bamboo hat. His cultivation was not evident, and even the iron ring on his finger appeared rustic—a typical country youth.
These three were Yu Xin, Meng Qingqing, and Yu Ye.
After leaving Kunshui Town, Yu Ye had hidden with the Yu siblings in a mountain valley to rest for two days. Seeing no unusual signs, they set out together heading south.
Along the way, their companionship was harmonious.
After obtaining ten spirit stones, the Yu siblings devoted themselves to cultivation during all their waking hours. In just over twenty days, each advanced a level. This was hardly coincidental—they possessed excellent innate talent and strong roots but had been slowed by a scarcity of spiritual energy. Now, with the spirit stones to assist, their long-suppressed progress was naturally unleashed.
Yu Ye’s cultivation remained at the third Qi Refinement level.
He was accustomed to this.
As head of his household, the spiritual energy he absorbed was not only for his own cultivation but also to nurture the Dragon Elixir that would aid the recovery of the Dragon Shade’s soul power. It was said that once the elixir reached full strength, he would benefit immensely. But such distant hopes were far from his mind; for now, he simply wished to cross the sea safely.
“Junior sister, Brother Yu!” Yu Xin slowed his horse. Meng Qingqing and Yu Ye caught up and reined in.
“This marks the boundary of Nanqi Mountains. In about ten days’ journey, we’ll reach the coast—your mentioned Huazhou Town won’t be far.”
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing were quite familiar with the southern marshlands, saving them many troubles. Following the siblings, one need not fear losing their way.
“Beyond a few miles lies Nanqi Town. Why not stay two days to purchase some travel goods?”
“Sounds good. I’d like to buy some watercolor paints and silk scarves.”
“Hmm.”
The three spurred their horses onward.
It was mid-afternoon; the light dimmed gradually as dark clouds gathered, promising an impending storm.
Just after passing a mountain, a hot wind struck their faces, carrying an acrid stench. Gazing ahead, they saw a towering mountain shrouded in thick smoke and flames. The nearby wilderness and forests were ablaze, spreading with the fire.
A riverbank a few miles away housed several hundred dwellings—the location of Nanqi Town—now surrounded by raging fires. Fortunately, the river acted as a barrier, sparing the town for the moment. People fled their homes, some escaping town, others gathering at a bridge to watch—a scene of chaos and panic.
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing exchanged startled glances.
“The mountain on fire is Nanqi Mountain—likely caused by Qizhou cultivators. The Nanqi Sect’s Daoist gate has not escaped this calamity. We’d best detour to avoid trouble.”
“Yu Ye said the Qizhou cultivators have lost more than half their number…”
“How does he know their exact numbers?”
“Yu Ye…”
The siblings looked anxiously toward Yu Ye.
He stared into the distance and replied softly, “My memory is poor; perhaps I misheard. The Qizhou cultivators arrived in three groups, totaling twenty-nine, not thirty. I have killed seventeen. That leaves ten. I suspect two—including Bu Yi and two scattered Qi Refiners—did not participate in the slaughter. The remaining two Foundation Establishment experts and five disciples of the Immortal Sect would find it difficult to traverse the eight major Daoist gates of the marshlands. So, likely only a few set fire to Nanqi Mountain.”
He sat on his horse, gently bouncing with its movements, muttering calculations on his fingers like a shopkeeper tallying accounts, yet seeming to get confused.
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It was not that his intel was wrong, but that he had misremembered the numbers told by Hong An—the Qizhou cultivator they had captured alive before, who had since died at the hands of the Tianbao brothers.
“Seventeen?”
“Did he kill seventeen Qizhou cultivators alone?”
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing exchanged astonished looks, then comforted themselves:
“We may be inept, but we killed two!”
“Killing one from Nanshan by our Daoist disciples is enough to reassure our peers!”
“Yes, slaying one from Nanshan is worth ten Qi Refiners.”
“Those were perilous times!”
Yu Ye fumbled with his fingers, growing more confused.
According to the siblings, the numbers didn’t add up.
Daoist disciples killed Nanshan?
But Nanshan had clearly died by Yu Ye’s sword qi—was he killed again?
As they spoke, they crossed a stone bridge.
From the town ahead, people came running toward them, carrying old and young, hauling loads and driving carts—clearly fleeing disaster. It was human nature to seek safety. Though the danger was fire, it was man-made.
As the three prepared to cross the bridge, a panicked crowd blocked their way. Suddenly, cries and shouts filled the air.
“Abandon your horses!”
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing’s mounts were startled and restrained by the crowd, neighing and leaping wildly. The two barely managed to dismount.
A voice called out urgently:
“Take shelter under the bridge!”
They quickly followed, jumping beneath the bridge, where a group of people stood on the riverbank—among them, Yu Ye wearing his bamboo hat. The siblings crouched behind him, peering through the crowd toward the distance.
At that moment, a sword light flashed across the sky, heading straight for the wilderness across the river.
From the burning wildlands sprang over a dozen figures—men and women, young and old—each like a startled bird fleeing for their lives.
As they ran, the sword light struck like lightning, passing through one figure after another. Blood splattered, screams pierced the air.
Some tried to wield swords in defense but were instantly shredded to pieces; others dropped their blades, plunging into the river in desperation; a few escaped the riverbank and ran toward the stone bridge, hoping for rescue, but the crowd scattered in terror.
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing were forced to retreat repeatedly.
Among those fleeing about ten yards ahead was a young woman, barely sixteen or seventeen. Though untrained, she wore a Daoist robe and possessed delicate beauty—likely a Daoist disciple. Seeing the panic, compassion seemed to slow her steps. But hesitation proved fatal; a sword light pierced her chest. Her small body flew up and floated down like a feather.
“Ah…”
Meng Qingqing cried out but was pulled down by Yu Xin beneath the bridge, blending into the crowd. Yet she could not stop looking up, tears streaming down her face.
As a fellow female cultivator, she felt profound sympathy.
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Such a young Daoist disciple, slaughtered due to petty grudges—what fault did she have?
And she was not alone. In moments, over ten companions fell beneath the sword light.
Meanwhile, a man riding a sword appeared.
A middle-aged man, hovering midair on his sword, coldly surveying the chaos below with a powerful divine sense. After a moment, he flicked his sleeve and strode away.
Rain began to fall.
Meng Qingqing and Yu Xin followed the crowd out from under the bridge, rain pouring down. She intended to activate her protective qi but paused suddenly.
On the riverbank stood a solitary figure, rain-soaked but silent—Yu Ye, still wearing his bamboo hat.
When the Foundation Establishment expert appeared, Yu Ye had not fled?
Before him lay a woman, seemingly asleep, allowing the rain to wash her delicate face and petite form motionless.
Meng Qingqing and Yu Xin approached.
Yu Ye remained bowed, his expression cold and stern.
Perhaps having killed so many, he had grown numb. But now, suddenly confronted with the fragility and preciousness of life, he was overwhelmed. Especially witnessing the death of a young girl—like a flower withering in an instant, fragrant one moment, gone the next—and being powerless to save her. A feeling of lowly unease and helpless guilt surged within him, leaving him filled with indescribable remorse.
Meng Qingqing’s eyes reddened again as she said, “What fault had she to suffer such tragedy…”
Yu Xin was calmer, sighing, “Alas, we cultivate the Dao to oppose heaven’s will. Death means the Dao is lost; life means longevity. Life and death are the eternal Dao!”
For cultivators, life and death should be viewed with detachment. But humans are not trees; who can be without feeling?
“We cannot simply watch our Daoist comrades from Nanqi Mountain be left to rot in the wilderness, junior sister…”
“Indeed, since we could not save them, we must at least fulfill the duties of fellow Daoists. Yu Ye…”
Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing buried the slain disciples of the Nanqi Sect.
Yu Ye neither agreed nor opposed but produced a stack of Fire Dispersal Talismans.
The siblings took them and set about burning the remains of the victims.
Though the rain was heavy, it could not extinguish the power of the talismans. In short order, the bodies of over ten Nanqi disciples and the woman by the riverbank vanished in flames. The ashes were absorbed into the earth, as if life had found its final resting place.
The heavy rain not only doused the mountain fire but also ended the wildfire spreading through the wilderness. The refugees had long since returned to the town.
Having finished their task, Yu Xin and Meng Qingqing saw Yu Ye standing alone on the rain-soaked stone bridge.
A lone shadow on the ancient bridge, steeped in loneliness.
Their loneliness was compounded by the loss of their mounts—three horses had vanished. Likely, amidst the chaos and rain, the frightened horses had fled and were nowhere to be found.
The three looked around in confusion and helplessness, abandoning the thought of searching for the horses. Resigned, they braved the wind and rain, heading toward the town…