Chapter 157: Burning Night
Shi Hao stepped forward and called out, “Shi Chongyun of Wudang Monastery, here to see the Second Master!”
A head poked out from above the gate, followed by the sound of descending footsteps.
The gate opened, and a servant emerged, inviting Shi Hao inside.
Shi Hao entered and saw a martial artist in a close-fitting tunic, his brow furrowed, his eyes sharp and alert, his expression troubled.
Shi Hao approached and asked, “May I ask your name?”
The martial artist said, “I am Jing Shilong. Why have you come here at this late hour?”
Shi Hao said, “The Hanyang Gang has attacked Mount Nangong. If they capture it, they’ll control the approaches to Danyang and Nanhe, and the Nine Villages will be vulnerable. I’ve come to ask the Second Master to send reinforcements.”
Jing Shilong said, “Follow me,” and turned, leading him into the village.
Shi Hao followed closely behind.
As they walked, Shi Hao, noticing the commotion, asked, “What happened?”
Jing Shilong said, “The Second Master has been assassinated.”
Shi Hao exclaimed, “What? Who did it?”
Jing Shilong lowered his voice, “We don’t know yet. We’re still searching for the assassin. They might still be in the village, or they might have escaped using a magical weapon or some supernatural ability.”
They entered a courtyard where a body lay on the ground. It was Jing Zhenliang.
He lay on his back, blood seeping from a wound, his face darkened, the blood emitting a faint, foul odor.
Several people stood around, keeping their distance.
Shi Hao approached cautiously, crouched down, examined the body, then stood up and said, “Your Second Master, like your Village Leader, was poisoned. Although Elder Jing was killed by a palm strike, the blow itself wasn’t fatal. It was the poison that killed him.”
“And your Second Master, although his wound is from a sword, the blade was coated in the same poison.”
Having witnessed Elder Jing’s death by poison earlier that day, and now seeing the darkened face of the Second Master, the villagers had already suspected poison. Now, with Shi Chongyun’s confirmation, they erupted in anger, some shouting accusations, others cursing.
“The Young Master was also killed by poison, bitten by a snake! It must have been the Hanyang Gang!” someone shouted. “They’re notorious for their assassinations!” “We’ll fight them to the death!”
Shi Hao raised his voice, “Mount Nangong is under attack! The Hanyang Gang sent assassins to kill your Second Master to prevent you from sending reinforcements! If Mount Nangong falls, Shennong Village will be next! We must act now!”
“Wait!” someone shouted, “We don’t know if the Hanyang Gang killed the Second Master. We should honor the dead first. We can discuss this tomorrow.”
Shi Hao looked over and saw the tall, thin man who had been standing beside Jing Zhenliang earlier.
He approached the man, “And you are…?”
The man said, “I am Li Haolin, an advisor to the Second Master. His intention was to avoid conflict with the Hanyang Gang…”
Shi Hao glared at him, “How much did the Hanyang Gang pay you?”
Li Haolin felt a sudden pressure, the young man’s imposing aura, like a physical force, bearing down on him.
He stumbled backwards, his face pale, trying to escape.
Shi Chongyun rushed forward, kicked him to the ground, placed his foot on his chest, and leaned down, “How much did they pay you?”
Li Haolin stammered, “I… I didn’t…”
Swish! Shi Chongyun drew his sword and, with a single stroke, severed Li Haolin’s left arm, “Tell me!”
Li Haolin screamed, “Two hundred taels! Two hundred taels of silver!”
Shi Chongyun asked again, “Did you have anything to do with the Young Master’s death?”
Under the pressure of his intense gaze and the ruthless display of violence, Li Haolin broke, “They forced me!”
Shi Chongyun’s voice was filled with rage, “You betrayed your own clan, killed your Young Master and Second Master, for a mere two hundred taels?!”
Li Haolin tried to defend himself, claiming he had nothing to do with the Second Master’s death, but Shi Chongyun, ignoring him, kicked him again, sending him flying into a wall. He collapsed, blood spurting from his mouth as he convulsed.
Shi Hao turned to the crowd and said loudly, “The Hanyang Gang is cunning and treacherous. To prevent the Nine Villages from uniting, they killed your Village Leader and his two sons. Mount Nangong is under attack! If it falls, Shennong Village will be next!”
Jing Shilong stepped forward, his voice filled with rage, “What are we waiting for?! Avenge our Leader, our Young Master, our Second Master!” He raised his saber, and the other martial artists roared their agreement.
The night was ablaze with fury—
Gong Muhong stood on the wall, looking out.
Women, children, and elderly people were being evacuated to the back of the mountain.
A fire, likely started by a magical weapon or some supernatural ability, raged at the village gate.
The Gong family estate had walls, but the barbarian court restricted the height of such fortifications. Building them too high was considered an act of rebellion.
Although the ten-foot walls could keep out ordinary people, they were easily scaled by martial artists.
Arrows rained down from the watchtowers, their whistling piercing the night, but the sounds were quickly drowned out by the battle cries of the approaching Hanyang Gang.
The scent of blood filled the air.
“A futile effort,” a cold voice sneered, and several bodies were thrown from the wall, their screams echoing.
A short, stocky figure, wielding a spiked club, emerged from the darkness. It was Jin Ba, one of the Hanyang Three Fiends.
His every step was heavy and deliberate, the ground trembling beneath his feet.
He advanced relentlessly, deflecting arrows, hidden weapons, and even attacks from the defenders with his swirling club.
Seeing the first line of defense crumble, Gong Muhong said grimly, “Fall back to the Earth line.”
The Gong family’s defenses were divided into three lines: Heaven, Earth, and Man.
The first line, “Man,” relying on the outer wall, had fallen easily.
They retreated, some buildings exploding in flames as they withdrew.
Fires set by both sides raged throughout the estate.
The Gong family members, now at the second line of defense, “Earth,” used hidden weapons from within the buildings, their attacks shielded by the flames.
Hidden darts, arrows, caltrops, and throwing knives rained down on the attackers trying to breach the burning barricade.
“Not bad,” Jin Ba roared, grabbing a large, golden axe from one of his men. He swung it with a mighty heave.
The five-foot-long axe, spinning through the air, its whistling echoing, crashed into a building, shattering the wall, blood spraying from within.
Its momentum unspent, the axe continued through the building and emerged on the other side, startling the defenders.
With a crash, it struck two of the stone pillars supporting a pavilion, which collapsed under the impact.
“Don’t panic!” a voice shouted from the darkness, “Hold your ground! Don’t retreat!”
A voice chuckled from above, “Can you?” A figure, like a bird of prey, leaped over the flames, landing among the defenders.
“Yu He?!” someone exclaimed in terror.
“That’s right!” A flash of blade light, and blood sprayed through the air, staining the night.
“Retreat!” Gong Muhong said coldly.
Yu He, one of the Hanyang Three Fiends, had arrived. With his Earth Flying Star supernatural ability and his unique “Phantom Eagle Eight Techniques,” their second line of defense couldn’t hold.
Behind them, a messenger fired a signal flare.
They retreated.
“You can’t escape!” Yu He’s figure flickered, appearing and disappearing, diving down from above like a hawk, each strike drawing blood.
Jin Ba’s spiked club cleared a path through the burning buildings, scattering debris and sending flames swirling.
“Is this all the Gong family has to offer?” he roared, laughing, his voice booming, “You dare oppose our Hanyang Gang? We’ll wipe you out tonight! Not a single one of you will survive!”
Gong Muhong’s face was as cold as ice. The remaining Gong family members gathered around him, using the buildings and the terrain for cover, forming their final defensive line.
The Heaven line.
In a family like the Gong family, the Clan Leader was their Heaven.
When the Clan Leader personally took the field, facing the enemy, it meant they had reached their last stand.
They would either repel the attackers or die here.
If their leader fell, the news would reach the women and children sheltering in the back mountains, who would then flee, scattering in all directions.
Few would survive, but even a sliver of hope was better than none.
The bowstring twanged, an arrow gleaming in the firelight.
Before them, the Hanyang Gang’s forces, like a rising tide, surged forward.
The night burned, consuming wood, stone, silk, flesh, hope, and the memories of peace…
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