Chapter 32: I Want the Money, Not the Goods

Chapter 32: I Want the Money, Not the Goods

Lai Fu Inn.

Fang Rou’s secondary role in the group became clear—paying for their accommodation.

Since the Fang Clan had organized this mission, they were responsible for covering meals and lodging.

Rooms were quickly arranged: two martial cultivators per room, four Fang Clan guards in another, and separate rooms for Yan Que and Fang Rou. In total, twelve rooms were booked.

After settling the payment, the group entered the inn.

Since dinner hadn’t been served yet, they left their luggage in their rooms and gathered downstairs to eat.

Su Chen deliberately checked the kitchen, ensuring the food wasn’t poisoned before feeling at ease.

The dishes were simple home-style fare—palatable enough to satisfy hunger. After finishing their meal, everyone returned to their rooms.

Su Chen’s roommate was a quiet type, and the two taciturn men quickly washed up and retired for the night.

---

At dawn, the group shared breakfast before departing.

Today was the day to meet the bandits for the exchange, and a somber tension hung over their faces.

…

At the foot of Lianyun Mountains, a narrow muddy path stretched ahead.

A group of bandits stood poised, eyes scanning the horizon with restless anticipation.

Clad in coarse cotton tunics, their grim faces bore the hardened ruthlessness of seasoned killers. Their weapons ranged from wooden clubs to blades, with their leader wielding a gleaming long knife. His gaze alone sent chills down the spine.

“Third Chief,” a burly henchman muttered, glancing at the sky, “do you think the Fang Clan will even show?”

Third Chief continued polishing his blade without looking up. “If they don’t, kill them all.”

“They’re here!”

Before the words faded, a bandit sprinted toward them.

He skidded to a halt before Third Chief, breathless with excitement. “They’re coming!”

The long blade trembled slightly in Third Chief’s grip, emitting a sharp whistle. A grin curled his lips. “Perfect timing.”

“However…”

“What now?”

“They’ve brought a lot of people.”

The bandits behind Third Chief stiffened. He silenced them with a glare. “Enough chatter! Prepare yourselves—wait for my command!”

The group fell silent.

“There they are!”

Moments later, Third Chief’s eyes narrowed as the approaching figures emerged.

Meanwhile, Yan Que’s party spotted the bandits as well.

Soon, the two groups met face-to-face.

“I am Yan Que of the Broken Blade Sect,” Yan Que declared, locking eyes with Third Chief. “I’ve come to pay the ransom for the Fang Clan’s people.”

“Broken Blade Sect?” Third Chief narrowed his eyes. “Did you bring the five hundred taels?”

Yan Que nodded. “The money is ready. Where are the captives and goods?”

“They’re here. Hand over the money, and they’ll appear.” Third Chief smirked.

Yan Que’s tone hardened. “We trade money for goods—simultaneously.”

The smirk froze on Third Chief’s face. A tense silence fell.

Standing behind Yan Que, Su Chen frowned. The bandits clearly had no intention of releasing their hostages after taking the payment.

Third Chief’s smile vanished. “Show me the money first, and I’ll bring them out.”

Yan Que hesitated, then nodded. “Fine.”

He turned to Fang Rou, who retrieved five silver notes from her robes.

Seeing the payment, Third Chief burst into laughter.

At his signal, his men scattered, encircling Yan Que’s group.

Panic rippled through the Fang Clan members. Yan Que’s expression darkened. “What does this mean?”

“Meaning?” Third Chief sneered. “I want the money, but I’m not giving you the goods or the captives. In fact, I’ll be taking you all prisoner.”

“You dare break your word?” Yan Que’s voice dropped icy.

“Are you insane? Talking about honor with a bandit?” Third Chief spat.

Yan Que’s face turned livid. “Everyone, stay alert!”

“Attack!” Third Chief roared.

The bandits surged forward, weapons raised.

Yan Que and Third Chief locked eyes—both knew this battle’s outcome would hinge on them alone.

“Both swordsmen,” Third Chief growled. “Let’s see whose blade is sharper!”

With a snarl, he lunged, his long blade slicing the air.

Yan Que drew his sword, charging forward to meet him in a thunderous clash.

The metallic clang echoed as their blades met, the force of impact sending both men staggering backward.

A single exchange confirmed their equal skill.

“Again!” Third Chief bellowed, launching another flurry of strikes.

The battlefield erupted.

Though outnumbered, the bandits found themselves outmatched. Su Chen, however, moved effortlessly, his attention drifting between the fight and his companions.

To his surprise, Fang Rou—frail as she seemed—knew martial arts, though her movements were clumsy and unrefined.

When two bandits cornered her, Su Chen intervened, cutting them down.

Fang Rou paled, trembling as she stammered, “Thank you, junior brother.”

Su Chen nodded, saying nothing.

Afterward, Fang Rou wisely retreated to the rear, occasionally aiding others while stealing glances at Su Chen’s effortless combat.

Suddenly, Su Chen’s expression shifted—Yan Que had been struck.

The two leaders clashed again, their blades locked in a test of strength.

Without warning, Third Chief struck Yan Que’s chest with his palm.

Yan Que spat blood, hurtling backward with a bone-rattling thud.

Gasps rippled through the group.

“Uncle!” Fang Rou rushed to his side, horror in her eyes.

Yan Que coughed, his gaze fixed on Third Chief. “He’s… a vital energy cultivator!”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end