Chapter Nine: From this day forth, there will be no more bandits in Qingxi, nor anywhere in the entire Yuntian Prefecture!

Outside the tent, chaos erupted in an instant. The shrieks and wails of the bandits, the clangor of weapons, all blended into a frenzied cacophony. It was as if a hornet’s nest had been struck, plunging the camp into utter bedlam.

A young bandit stumbled and crawled into the tent, his face deathly pale, lips trembling too much to form a coherent sentence. “B-boss! Something’s wrong! The armory—the armory exploded!” he stammered, his voice breaking. “The flames are reaching the sky! They’re saying Liu Meimei’s behind it, and she—she swore to burn our foundation to the ground!”

“What?!” Jiang Hongling’s eyes widened in disbelief and fury as she kicked over the table with a crash, sending teacups and account books scattering across the floor. Her voice trembled with rage. “How could the armory explode? Where were the guards? Are they all dead?”

Ji Xiang spoke in a grave tone, “Brother Jiang, Heifeng Stronghold isn’t joking this time.” Outwardly, he sounded indifferent, but inwardly, he was already thinking of withdrawing. This wasn’t his stronghold, after all—why get involved in this mess? Besides, with Chilian’s armory gone, helping would only cost him more money and effort. Not worth it at all.

Hu Qi, now realizing the gravity of the situation, had lost all his earlier bravado. He wrung his hands anxiously, pacing in circles. “Why is Liu Meimei so ruthless? Striking under the cover of night! Jiang, what do you plan to do now?”

The three leaders in the tent, who moments before had been eager to kill Liu Meimei, now hesitated, afraid to get themselves entangled in this chaos. Jiang Hongling’s scornful gaze swept over them. “She strikes at me today—who’s to say she won’t strike at you tomorrow?”

Her words hung in the air, but none dared respond.

Meanwhile, outside, on the low wall by the stables, Wen Changning gazed at the distant inferno, her eyes devoid of emotion. The explosion was her handiwork. Jiang Hongling, this blaze was meant to strip you of reason, to drive you to vengeance. She wanted precisely this chaos, wanted all of Chilian Stronghold to lay their hatred at Heifeng’s door and charge in blindly, blood in their eyes. She was determined to muddy the waters completely—so that Qingshui, and even the whole Yuntian Prefecture, would be rid of banditry forever.

The sparks hissed and danced in the air, thick smoke swirling upwards, turning the fog a deep, fiery orange. Wen Changning turned away from the warehouse, leapt atop the stable wall, and as another earth-shattering explosion erupted behind her, she shot toward the main gate like an arrow loosed from a bow.

…

The next day.

Wind swept the rocky flats, carrying sand that made it impossible to keep one’s eyes open. The forces of all four strongholds had gathered early, waiting only for Heifeng’s arrival. When Lei Zhentian finally appeared, flanked by the four leaders of Heifeng Stronghold surrounding a conspicuous sedan chair, murderous intent rippled through the crowd.

Yesterday’s humiliation!

The devastation at the armory!

All scores were to be settled today.

Zhao Hu, the second-in-command of Chilian, idly rubbed a callused sleeve as he advanced, each step measured and calculating. “Lei Zhentian, let’s not mince words. Have Liu Meimei face our leader in a duel—winner takes all, bygones be bygones.”

As he spoke, his gaze flicked to Wen Changning’s sedan. All because of this woman. One person had destroyed their armory! This vendetta would be paid in blood. Yet, the stronghold was in no shape to take on Heifeng head-to-head. For now, he could only start with this woman and settle the rest later.

Inside the sedan, Wen Changning’s lips curled in a faint smile. At last—the true drama would begin.

Lei Zhentian’s hand rested on his sword hilt, his eyes brimming with murderous intent. These fools just couldn’t accept defeat, unwilling to cede their territory to Heifeng. Forcing Jiang Hongling to challenge his little sister was nothing but bullying. If Meimei lost…her fate meant little. But half the mountain they’d just won would be lost as well! He swallowed hard, raising his voice, “Our Meimei won yesterday! Why demand a rematch today?”

Meng Chang stood among Heifeng’s ranks, gripping his spear so tightly it burned his hands, his gaze fixed on Wen Changning’s sedan, palms slick with sweat. He opened his mouth but dared not call out, only repeating silently in his heart: “Fifth Sister, don’t agree…”

Liu Qiang lounged at the rear, a cold sneer on his lips. Liu Meimei, if you dare accept, you’re as good as dead. You’ll pay for Wan’er’s death!

Within the sedan, Wen Changning lowered her gaze, fingers toying with her skirt’s hem, slyness hidden deep within. If last night’s armory fire couldn’t provoke them enough, she would stoke the flames even higher. The wind blew her hair across her face, hiding the chill in her eyes.

Heifeng’s crowd erupted with indignation. “Why rematch? Victory is victory!”

“If you couldn’t accept defeat, you should have fought outright. Why agree to a contest in the first place?”

“Lose and call for another match—shameless! Disgraceful!”

The other three strongholds were equally unyielding. “Only when we’re convinced will we recognize your win!”

“Liu Meimei used underhanded tricks—her victory is tainted, it doesn’t count.”

“That’s right! No rematch, no acceptance. Might as well start a free-for-all again!”

“All of us are outlaws—who’s afraid of whom?!”

All eyes turned to the sedan. Wen Changning, meanwhile, took a brief nap. She had waited all night for Chilian to retaliate, but nothing came—they were cowards, not worthy of the bandit name. Such fecklessness had cost her a night’s rest, so she took the chance to catch up on sleep.

Outside, the standoff continued. Ji Xiang of Feiying Stronghold eyed the unmoving sedan, sidling up to Jiang Hongling with a quiet chuckle. “Chief Jiang, just look at her—she’s nearly lost her soul, clearly too scared to face us. When she cowers away, we’ll force Lei Zhentian to hand her over, and kill her with the righteous cause on our side.” His certainty was absolute, as if Wen Changning’s death sentence was already pronounced.

Jiang Hongling hefted his guillotine blade, its surface glinting with sand. He spat on the arena platform. “A mere slip of a girl, and we’re supposed to wait for her? If she dares come up, I’ll cut her down and show her the price of arrogance!” His disdain was blatant; he saw Wen Changning as utterly outmatched.

Meng Chang breathed a sigh of relief. Fifth Sister had come to her senses, finally caring for her own safety. Let her hide—he would handle everything.

Liu Qiang, by contrast, grew frantic. You little wretch, aren’t you usually so bold? Get up there!

Even Lei Zhentian thought Fifth Sister had lost her nerve. After all, Jiang Hongling’s reputation was formidable; aside from himself, no one present could rival her. Even if Fifth Sister had inherited a master’s inner strength, she lacked Jiang Hongling’s battle experience—she was doomed to lose.

Just as Lei Zhentian was about to speak, a familiar flash of purple appeared. The bandits of Heifeng, seeing the fifth chief emerge, believed she was acting for the honor of the stronghold, risking herself for their sake. They began to clutch their talismans in secret. Some pressed the charms to their chests, muttering, “Protect the fifth chief—let nothing happen to her.” Others grabbed Meng Chang’s arm. “Brother Meng, keep a close watch—Jiang Hongling is sure to play dirty!”

The entire Heifeng Stronghold was tense as a drawn bow.

Wen Changning stepped slowly toward the arena, her skirt brushing over the broken stones with a soft rustle, her pace deliberate, almost hesitant. The Heifeng crowd fell silent at once. Meng Chang’s heart nearly leapt from his chest as he lurched forward, only to freeze mid-step, his hand suspended in the air.

Liu Qiang’s eyes shone with manic joy, his breath quickening. He shifted his poisoned needle to his fingertip, inwardly urging, Jiang Hongling, kill her! Don’t hesitate!

Jiang Hongling grinned even more savagely as Wen Changning approached. “So, the beauty has guts, but not much brains.” He raised his guillotine blade, the wind from its arc lifting Wen Changning’s skirt. “Today, I’ll give you a swift death!”

The blade flashed toward her throat, giving her no quarter. Wen Changning appeared to stumble back in panic, but her steps were sure and steady. Eyes lowered, she seemed truly frightened, yet inwardly, her mind was clear. Now—cripple him!

Heifeng’s crowd screamed in terror. “Fifth Chief, watch out!” Meng Chang gripped his spear so tightly his knuckles whitened, eyes locked on the stage, not daring to blink. He feared to see blood at any moment.

Feiying’s ranks slapped their thighs in laughter. “Look how she dodges—she won’t last three moves! Chief Jiang, give it your all, cut her down!” They were certain Wen Changning was barely clinging to life, with no hope of victory.

Liu Qiang laughed along, malice spilling from his eyes. Die! Die! If she dies, I can answer to Wan’er. He fixed his gaze on Wen Changning’s back, waiting for her to fall.

As Wen Changning dodged the blade, she suddenly lunged forward. Her pale hand moved like a butterfly weaving through flowers, so fast it left only an afterimage, striking directly at Jiang Hongling’s dantian. She used little force, but her aim was deadly precise.

“Aaagh!” Jiang Hongling’s scream exploded across the arena, rattling the very stones. His guillotine blade clattered to the ground as his massive frame collapsed to his knees. Cold sweat and tears streamed down his scarred face, softening even his old wounds.

The entire rocky flat fell silent; even the wind held its breath.

The Feiying bandits who had just been laughing sat with gaping mouths, unable to close them. Ji Xiang’s face turned ghostly pale, disbelief in his eyes. How could this have happened?

Meng Chang stood frozen, his twin hammers forgotten at his feet. He stared at Wen Changning atop the platform, his eyes suddenly red. Fifth Sister…she won…

Liu Qiang’s face was as white as paper. Impossible! How could Liu Meimei win? Wan’er’s vengeance…

He stumbled back, unable to meet Wen Changning’s gaze.

Wen Changning drew out a handkerchief and slowly wiped her fingers, her head bowed, voice soft and meek. “S-sorry, Chief Jiang, I couldn’t control my strength…” Yet the icy glint in her eyes, sharper than any blade, went unseen by all.

Jiang Hongling, once infamous for her ferocity, had been crippled by their “dainty” fifth chief—by such a bizarre and humiliating method, no less.

“We won! We won!” The cheers from Heifeng Stronghold erupted, shaking the very air. Some tossed their hats skyward, others hugged Meng Chang in ecstatic celebration. “Fifth Chief is incredible! Fighting for our stronghold—well done!”

Lei Zhentian beamed, all teeth, and strode up the platform with heavy steps. He clapped Wen Changning’s shoulder so hard her arm went numb. “Meimei! Well done! You’ve brought honor to Heifeng Stronghold!” At last, the weight in his heart had been lifted.

He grinned even wider, gripping the railing. “Did you all see? My sister is no easy target! Look at those old snakes from Qing—faces green with envy!” He shouted, “Everyone, see this? My Lei Zhentian’s sister is no pushover!”

Zhao Hu clenched his fists, nails digging into flesh. He stared at Wen Changning’s back, voice low and menacing. “Liu Meimei…this isn’t over between us!” Murder burned in his eyes, yet he dared not take another step forward.

Wen Changning lowered her lashes to hide a cold smile, fingertips idly tracing her sleeve. “No need to rush—let them savor their triumph a while.”

The gong for the next defense round sounded. The chieftains of the other strongholds could barely contain themselves. Lei Zhentian rubbed his hands and grinned. “We led the first round. For the second, surely it’s time for another stronghold to defend the platform?”

But Ji Xiang snorted, “Chief Lei, that’s not right. You basked in glory for the first round. Defending the second round is only fair. Besides, with someone like Fifth Chief just emerging, who better than Brother Liu Qiang to hold the platform?”

The other chiefs promptly echoed, “Exactly! Brother Liu Qiang is skilled—perfect for the defense!”

“If Heifeng Stronghold won’t even send a defender, what was all that earlier glory worth?”

Liu Qiang ducked his head so low it nearly touched his chest, feet inching back. He had seen Jiang Hongling’s fate—how could he dare take the stage? But the crowd’s eyes bored into him like knives. Lei Zhentian clapped his shoulder. “Liu Qiang, don’t chicken out! We Heifeng folk won’t be made a laughingstock!”

Cursing them all silently, Liu Qiang forced himself to pick up his blade. “Fine, I’ll go. I’ll go.”

As soon as he stepped onto the platform, Zhao Hu from Chilian leapt up, swinging his fists. “Liu Qiang! I’ve been wanting to spar with you!” His fist slammed into Liu Qiang’s arm, making him grimace in pain. Zhao Hu pressed the attack, kicking him in the knee. “That’s all you’ve got? And you dare defend the platform?”

Liu Qiang barely managed to parry a dozen moves before Hu Qi bounded up, short blade targeting his waist. “Liu Qiang, time to pay a little interest for my brother!” The blade grazed his skin, drawing blood. Hu Qi stomped on his foot for good measure. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Did you ever think of others’ pain when Wen Changning crippled someone?”

“I’m not with her!” Liu Qiang roared, fighting back, but Hu Qi’s attacks were vicious, and soon Liu Qiang’s arm was slashed open, blood dripping from his fingertips.

Before he could catch his breath, Zhang Qiang from Baihu Stronghold charged up and punched him in the face. “Enough talk! No one from Heifeng is any good!” Blood gushed from Liu Qiang’s nose, blurring his vision. Zhang Qiang kicked him in the stomach. “Get off! Don’t embarrass yourself here!”

Staggering to the railing, Liu Qiang tried to steady himself, but Su Tie from Qinglang Stronghold mounted the stage with a club. “Four-man platform, still missing one! Liu Qiang, brace yourself!” The club whistled down, striking Liu Qiang’s back with a sickening thud. He spat blood and collapsed to his knees.

“Enough!” Lei Zhentian could bear it no longer and tried to rush up, only to be held back. “Chief, the rules can’t be broken! Four must fight!”

Lying prone, battered and bloody, Liu Qiang’s gaze locked onto Wen Changning. Hatred welled up inside him. “This is all your fault! Liu Meimei, if not for you angering them all, would I be getting battered like this? You wretched woman! If I survive this, I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

At that moment, Ji Xiang from Feiying Stronghold suddenly vaulted onto the platform, blade to Liu Qiang’s throat. “Liu Qiang, prepare to die!”

Just as he was about to strike, Wen Changning stepped forward, her voice icy. “Ji Xiang, the rule is four defenders. You, the fifth, dare suggest Heifeng Stronghold is defenseless?”

Liu Qiang jerked his head up, blood still on his face, eyes wide in shock. He had just been cursing Wen Changning in his heart—how could she suddenly come to his aid? Hadn’t they always been at odds? Was he mistaken about her?

A flood of regret washed over him. Fifth Sister still cared—he was the one who’d let suspicion poison their bond.

“You…you’re helping me?” Liu Qiang’s voice trembled, pain momentarily forgotten.

The Heifeng crowd was stunned, then burst into cheers. “Fifth Chief is right! They’re breaking the rules!”

“Protect Fourth Brother Liu! Don’t let them bully us!”

Lei Zhentian’s blood surged, and he charged forward, blade raised. “Well said, Meimei! Anyone breaks the rules—I’ll cut them down myself!”

Ji Xiang’s face twisted, but he forced bravado. “Rules? I’m here to avenge Chief Jiang!” He swung his blade down.

Wen Changning flicked her wrist. Her short blade flashed, blocking Ji Xiang’s attack, then slashed back.

With a sickening crack, Ji Xiang’s right arm fell to the platform. His scream echoed across the arena.