Chapter Forty-Three: Savior

Yan Yuanqing clapped his hands and drew a deep breath; tonight’s group was clearly of a higher caliber than the one yesterday. Not only were there more of them, but they finally required him to exert himself a little. Still, it was barely enough to serve as a warm-up.

He lifted his hands to examine them, noticing the golden glow gradually fading from his palms. This technique was one Yan Yuanqing had only recently grasped. Since the inner strength he had cultivated could already transform into the form of the Taiyi Divine Needles to aid him in battle, he wondered: could this power assist him in other ways as well? That was the spark of his inspiration. And now, having tested it, the results truly delighted him.

“Haha, excellent! With this, even if I come up against armed opponents in the future, I’ll be able to face them head-on without being at a disadvantage!”

Satisfied with the outcome, Yan Yuanqing finally turned his gaze to the black-clad figures sprawled across the courtyard, thoroughly defeated and incapable of further resistance.

“Stay here quietly. If you’re lucky, once I’ve settled my business, I might return and spare your lives. At the very least, I won’t kill you outright. But if your luck runs out, blame your own wicked deeds—Heaven itself won’t allow you to linger in this world any longer!”

With these words, Yan Yuanqing strode away under the despairing gazes of the black-clad men, heading swiftly toward the council hall.

He felt, from some unexplainable intuition, that something was happening there. Though it was only a sensation, Yan Yuanqing had always trusted his instincts. The closer he drew to the hall, the more he sensed the tension in the air. Some of the household servants had even abandoned their duties, gathered together, whispering about something in hushed tones. This only spurred him to quicken his pace.

At last, he arrived at the council hall. Looking down from the perimeter wall, he saw a scene bristling with hostility—swords drawn, tempers flaring. Yet the group surrounded at the center seemed utterly powerless to resist, entirely at the mercy of their captors.

“Yuanqing!” Shi Tianhe’s voice rang out in surprise as he spotted Yan Yuanqing’s sudden appearance. At last, someone had arrived who wasn’t already surrounded. But the relief was short-lived, for he remembered just who Yan Yuanqing was.

“Haha, Shi Tianhe, have you really stooped so low as to pin your hopes on a worthless good-for-nothing? That’s enough to make me die of laughter!” Shi Chengren and his men broke into raucous laughter, making Shi Tianhe’s face flush with humiliation.

“Yan Yuanqing, run! This isn’t a place for you. Go at once and alert the authorities—only they can resolve this! Don’t stay here, you’ll only end up walking into a trap!” Even though he had never thought highly of Yan Yuanqing, Shi Tianhe now had to swallow his pride as head of the family—at this moment, only Yan Yuanqing might be able to save them.

“Hmph, do you really think a few words from you will let this fool escape? Seize him! Drag him down from that wall and throw him into the crowd!” came the cold order.

“Yes, sir!” Several men responded, quickly making their way to the base of the wall where Yan Yuanqing stood. With a leap, one landed atop the wall and charged at him weapon in hand. Their attacks were crude and straightforward, entirely lacking any finesse or technique.

“Heh, you underestimate me? That will cost you!” Yan Yuanqing sneered. This time, he didn’t even bother using his inner strength; relying solely on a few deft moves, he easily kicked his assailants off the wall. One of them even crashed into the midst of the besieged group, hitting the ground hard. As he tried to rise, a sudden sweetness welled in his throat, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.