Sun Yanwan's life was hanging by a thread. In that instant he dug out every bit of strength he had. Fresh qi burst out, opening another meridian in his arm. Almost on reflex he used the Hu Clan's Demon‑Cleaving Sword Art, "Sweeping Sword." His hardened steel saber brushed his own cheek and sliced the flying arrow from the air.
He remembered seeing Hu Fengwei— the Hu family prodigy— use this same move to knock away Miao Youxiu's three‑slash combo. It was one of the clan's smartest defensive moves.
Cold sweat poured down Sun Yanwan's back. That strike was far above his normal level. Next time he might not react so fast. He yelled, "What's wrong with you? Why shoot me out of nowhere?"
The girl in the red dress didn't answer. After firing the arrow she flipped off the roof and vanished.
Still furious, Sun Yanwan couldn't chase her. More than ten gang fighters rode at him, weapons raised.
"Great, now I have to handle these thugs first."
He dodged left and right. At first he felt unsure, but after a few exchanges he relaxed. "So this is the gap between first‑rate and third‑rate skills," he thought. "Hu family swordplay is miles ahead of their crude moves."
Even though he had only trained a few months, killing these bandits wasn't hard. The burst of qi had opened three meridians so far: one in his leg— boosting his footwork— and one in his arm— speeding up his strikes. Energy flowed smoothly, filling him with strength.
He slipped inside a spear thrust and cut the man down. After killing two more, fear faded. With the Demon‑Cleaving Sword Art he quickly took a third life.
To the gang members he looked like a seasoned killer: precise blade work, ruthless heart. Their leader Lao Du was already dead, and Sun Yanwan still moved like lightning. Panic spread. Someone shouted; the riders scattered, trying to flee.
A native young hero might have let them go, but Sun Yanwan was a time‑traveler who hated hypocritical mercy. These men killed at will and had just threatened to slaughter the whole town to find a girl. No way he'd spare them.
Worse, the red‑dressed girl had nearly killed him and left. He needed somewhere to vent his anger.
He mounted a riderless black horse and gave chase. In moments three more fell. But it was his first real fight; he lacked experience. When the remaining bandits split up he couldn't catch them all, so he picked one, ran him down, and finished him.
He slung the corpse over a horse, gathered seven mounts in total, grabbed the supplies he'd bought, and headed straight back to Taiyi Temple without stopping in town.
Senior brother Zhang Qingxi was practicing when Sun Yanwan arrived— blood‑spattered, leading seven horses and hauling bodies. Zhang's face went pale. "Junior brother, what happened? Why so many dead?"
Sun Yanwan told the whole story without hiding anything.
Hearing that the bandits had been killing innocents, Zhang felt no blame— only praise. "We train to protect the weak. These killers deserved it. Master won't scold you. Let's bury them behind the mountain and keep the horses for work."
Relieved, Sun Yanwan asked, "Senior brother, who was that girl in red? What gang were those men from?"
"We can't know everything about the Jianghu," Zhang laughed. "There are millions out there; only a few thousand ever make a name."
Sun Yanwan still wanted to hunt the red‑dressed girl, but Zhang's words made sense. He dropped it for now.
Zhang was going to bury the bodies at once, but Sun Yanwan insisted on searching them first. After some crooked reasoning he convinced Zhang. They found dozens of strings of cash and more than a hundred taels of silver— enough to support a well‑off family for two or three years. Sun Yanwan also kept their weapons; Zhang didn't want them.
Together they buried the seven corpses in a hidden spot behind the mountain. By the time they finished it was night. They shared a grin— the day had been wild.
"Senior brother, I also picked up our new Taoist robes today. How about we wash up and change into them?"
"Sounds good," Zhang replied.
Behind the temple ran a small brook with clear water they usually drank. It was only half a foot deep, so Zhang planned to splash off quickly. But Sun Yanwan— coming from the modern world— couldn't stand feeling dirty. He persuaded Zhang to help dig a pit beside the brook, letting water fill it like a tub.
They carried clean clothes, stripped off the filthy ones, and jumped in. While they were scrubbing happily, a sudden "Ah!" rang out. Sun Yanwan looked up and saw the girl in the red dress again. Rage exploded.
"Pervert! How dare you peek at us bathing!" he roared.
The girl's face went bright red. She covered it with her hands and ran away.