Chapter 234: Mountain Bandits, Massacre

“What’s going on?”

Hearing the commotion outside, the group inside the temple—midway through their meal—paused, startled.

“Boss, why’s there a carriage here?”

A voice rang out from outside.

“What do you think? Clearly, we’ve got fresh prey stopping here. Lucky us—just finished a big haul, and now another feast comes knocking.”

Another rough voice chuckled.

“Men! Fresh meat’s arrived! Seal off the ruined temple—don’t let these sheep escape!”

“Yes, sir!”

In a chorus of eager replies, the sound of shuffling footsteps began to circle the temple.

The bandits were surrounding it.

Before Lu Qing or the others could react, there was a thunderous crack—the half-collapsed front gate exploded inward, crashing into the courtyard.

“Sure enough—fat prey inside!”

A booming laugh echoed, as over a dozen burly men stormed in, wielding swords and knives, their clothes still stained with thick, lingering blood.

At their head was a man with long, wild hair and a grotesque scar across his face—twisted and sinuous like a centipede. His expression was terrifying, a predator’s grin.

Behind him, the rest of the bandits were equally fearsome, their eyes cold and bloodshot, like demons incarnate.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

One of the round-faced middle-aged man’s disciples stood up, voice sharp with defiance.

“We’re bandits, of course. And what do we want? What do you think—money, of course!”

The Centipede Scar Big Man grinned.

But the way his face twisted made the scar breathe, as if the creature itself were writhing beneath the skin. It was horrifying.

The sight made Xu Ping gasp, instinctively ducking behind her father.

Seeing her reaction, the Centipede Scar Big Man’s eyes flashed with malice.

“Bandits? Robbery?” The round-faced man smirked. “Friend, have you mistaken your targets? Do you really think we’re worth robbing?”

“Ah, so you’re not someone important?” The bandit chief studied them with interest. “Well, I can see you’ve got some martial talent here—but the strongest among you barely reaches Jin Gu Jing. Not worth my time.”

“No offense,” the round-faced man said, “but we’re just ordinary travelers. No valuables on us. You’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Oh?” The Centipede Scar Big Man glanced at the carriage outside. “Then why are you riding in a luxury carriage? Only the rich or powerful can afford that. You must be hiding something.”

He paused, eyes flicking toward Xu Ping. “And even if you’ve got nothing, there’s still a lovely little girl here. If I take her back as my thirteenth concubine… that’d be quite the reward.”

The words struck like a blade.

The round-faced man’s face darkened instantly, anger flaring in his eyes.

He’d been cautious earlier—fearful of a fight, worried about his disciples and the old doctor being caught in the crossfire. But now, the bandit chief dared to speak of his daughter as property?

He couldn’t let it pass.

Just as he was about to step forward, Lu Qing spoke—calm, quiet, like a whisper in the wind.

“What’s that you’re wearing at your waist?”

Everyone turned, eyes locking on the Centipede Scar Big Man’s belt.

There, dangling from his side, was a round, bulging sack—dark red stains seeping from its bottom.

“This?” The bandit chief pulled it free. “My spoils.”

He tore open the sack.

A blood-soaked human head tumbled out.

“Ah!”

Xu Ping screamed.

Xiao Yan flinched, burying her face into Lu Qing’s chest.

Old Doctor narrowed his brows.

Even the round-faced man’s disciples paled.

The head—though smeared with blood—was unmistakable. A beautiful young girl, her face frozen in terror.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” The Centipede Scar Big Man cooed, brushing a finger along the girl’s cheek. “She was mine. I wanted her as my thirteenth concubine—offered my dowry, my name, my honor. But her father, the town magistrate, dared to refuse me.”

His voice turned cold. “So I led my men down from the mountain. Burned the town to the ground. And brought back her head.”

He leaned close, whispering like a lover. “Wu Tian claims what’s mine. Even in death, she can’t escape.”

The twisted devotion in his voice made Xu Ping tremble.

He said he wanted me… as his thirteenth concubine.

One of the disciples could no longer bear it.

“Traitor! Monster!” He drew his sword with a sharp shing, pointing it at the bandit chief.

“Oh? So you’re choosing to resist?” The Centipede Scar Big Man didn’t flinch.

Neither did his men. They stood relaxed, weapons in hand, smirking at the young man’s defiance.

“Just remember,” the bandit chief said, “I don’t take prisoners.”

He snapped his fingers.

Instantly, movement erupted from all sides.

Dozens of figures appeared atop the temple walls and roof—archers and sharpshooters, bows drawn, throwing knives ready, all aimed at Lu Qing and the others.

“Surrender the girl,” the bandit chief said, “or die by a thousand arrows.”

The round-faced man’s face paled.

Damn it.

This was worse than he’d feared. Even he, with his skill, would struggle to survive such a situation.

They could escape—but protecting Old Doctor and the others? Impossible.

As he cursed himself for not acting the moment the leader appeared, Lu Qing spoke again—calm, clear.

“That’s why your stench is so thick. You didn’t just rob a village. You slaughtered an entire town.”

“Big deal,” the Centipede Scar Big Man sneered. “So what? You think I care?”

He stared at Lu Qing, puzzled. This kid’s insane. Doesn’t even realize how hopeless his situation is.

But then he saw it—Lu Qing’s expression remained utterly still.

No fear. No panic.

Just quiet certainty.

“Ma Ye,” Lu Qing said. “Bring him here.”

“Yes, Master!”

Before the Centipede Scar Big Man could even process the words—

A wave of overwhelming pressure exploded from ahead.

In a blur, a figure materialized before him.

Ma Gu.

The sheer aura radiating from him was suffocating.

The bandit chief’s eyes widened. He tried to retreat—but it was too late.

A flash of steel.

Slash. Slash.

Two clean cuts.

His arms severed, falling to the ground.

Ma Gu didn’t pause. He drove the flat of his blade into the bandit chief’s chest—avoiding the geyser of blood—and then seized him by the throat, dragging him back to Lu Qing’s side and hurling him onto the ground.

Silence.

The entire scene had unfolded in an instant.

Not a single bandit had reacted.

“Ah! My arms!” The Centipede Scar Big Man screamed, writhing in agony.

Only then did the others snap back to life.

“Boss!”

“Let go of our leader!”

“Kill them all!”

“Shoot! Now!”

Chaos erupted.

“Shut up!” Ma Gu pressed the tip of his blade against the bandit chief’s throat. “You want him alive? Then stay quiet.”

Blood welled at the cut.

All the bandits froze.

Even those on the walls and rooftops lowered their weapons—terrified of accidentally killing their leader.

“Much better,” Lu Qing said, reaching forward and pressing several points on the man’s body. The bleeding from his arms slowed.

He looked down at the trembling bandit chief.

“So? Still think you’re in control?”

The man gritted his teeth, pain etched across his face—but he managed a bitter laugh.

“Wu Tian was wrong. You’re just a servant—Jin Gu Jing, at best. Yet you just crushed me with a force rivaling Nei Fu Jing. I underestimated you.”

He lifted his head, eyes blazing. “But do you think taking me hostage means you’ll survive? Give the word—my men will shoot you down like dogs.”

“Oh?” Lu Qing tilted his head. “Then give the order.”

“What?” The Centipede Scar Big Man stared, stunned.

“Say it,” Lu Qing said calmly. “Tell your men to shoot. Let’s see if they can turn us into a porcupine.”

“You’re insane!” The bandit chief spat. “You’d really let them kill you?”

He felt it. The man wasn’t bluffing.

Lu Qing meant it.

And that realization froze him.

Because if he gave the command—his own life would end with the rest.

He wasn’t mad. He was ruthless.

“You’re afraid,” Lu Qing said, smiling faintly. “You’re all the same. Cruel when you’re on top, but when death stares you in the face? You’re smaller than a mouse.”

The insult cut deep.

The bandit chief’s face twisted with fury—but he dared not move.

“Fine,” he growled. “What do you want? To spare me?”

He still held hope.

There were children, elders, and weak women here. His men held every high ground.

As long as they hesitated—he still had a chance.

But then he heard Lu Qing sigh.

“Never mind. Since you can’t give the order… I’ll do it for you.”

“Wait!” The bandit chief’s blood ran cold.

Too late.

Lu Qing raised a finger, gently touching the man’s forehead.

A single tap.

The Centipede Scar Big Man convulsed. His pupils widened. His breath stopped.

Life drained from his body.

“Boss!”

The bandits roared in shock.

No one had seen it coming.

Even the round-faced man and his disciples were stunned.

“Shoot! Kill them all!” A voice screamed.

The archers on the walls and roof snapped back to life, arrows nocked, knives ready.

“Don’t!” The round-faced man lunged forward, desperate to intercept.

But he was still mid-air when—

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

A rain of screams.

Archers tumbled from the walls and roof, falling like rotten fruit.

“Ma Ye, Zi An,” Lu Qing said. “Finish them. No survivors.”

“Yes, Master!”

Ma Gu and Wei Zian lunged forward, eyes alight with bloodlust.

“Eat my blade!” Ma Gu charged, his sword a blur.

The strongest bandit—holding a long sword—raised his weapon in panic. He’d seen the boss fall in one strike.

He swung up, hoping to block.

Crack!

The Thousand-Fold Forged Blade—crafted by Lu Qing himself—cut through the man’s sword like paper.

Then through flesh.

The bandit split in two, falling apart in a spray of blood.

Boom. Boom.

Wei Zian’s staff followed—crackling like a serpent’s strike.

Two rapid strikes. Two chests collapsed.

The men flew backward, crashing through the wall, bodies broken, lifeless.

Wei Zian didn’t stop. He swung his staff in a wide arc—a sweeping thousand-mountain strike—crushing the remaining bandits into a bloody mess.

“Hey!” Ma Gu yelled, alarmed. “Don’t kill them all! Save some for Master!”

He dashed forward, eager to claim a few heads before his apprentice took them all.

The sight left the round-faced man and his disciples speechless.

Two men—just two—had wiped out over a dozen hardened bandits in seconds.

The courtyard was now a slaughterhouse.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end