Chapter 12

“Light the torch!” Yan Nanjing shouted to Bai Su.

The bandits came in groups, and it was simply impossible for only Qi Yun and Zheng Xuanfu to hold them off completely. But if even one of them died a brutal death, it would shatter the bandits’ courage, and they could protect themselves.

Ayuan had just been pushed hard by the bandits, his forehead hitting the ground, and now he couldn’t move. Upon hearing Yan Nanjing’s words, Bai Su tried to get up, but he was sprawled in a pool of blood, his hand pressing down on the slick, wet ground. Before he could stand, he stumbled and fell again.

Seeing this, Yan Nanjing immediately stood, snatched the torch placed nearby, and rushed to Qi Yun’s side.

Everyone had heard the earlier scream—it was not like any ordinary cry but sharp and filled with terror from the head being severed. When the blade cut through the throat, the piercing scream was like that of slaughtered livestock, fading instantly, but a dreadful sound still emerged from the throat.

These sounds were especially clear in the winter night.

The firelight illuminated Qi Yun’s face, and also the freshly severed head in his hand.

At the moment the head was cut off, it was not yet completely lifeless; under the firelight, it even blinked twice. But the terror on that face was unmistakable, eyes wide with fear.

Blood gushed from the neck cavity of the headless corpse, splattering high.

The remaining bandits saw their companion’s still somewhat lively head and involuntarily took a few steps back.

Qi Yun took a few steps forward, his killing intent solidified by the stench of blood.

The neck attached to the severed head still oozed blood.

Qi Yun lifted his hand and threw the head, which struck the leader at the forefront. The leader instinctively caught it and looked down, locking eyes with the staring head.

At that moment, Zheng Xuanfu seized the opportunity and struck a bandit’s neck from behind. After the chaotic fight, his strength was somewhat depleted; though his strike was forceful, he couldn’t sever the head as cleanly as Qi Yun did.

With one sweep, blood splattered a foot high from the bandit’s neck.

The two fought mercilessly and decisively, intimidating the rest of the bandits.

Their eyes were filled with terror as they stared at Qi Yun and Zheng Xuanfu. The firelight was dim, making it hard to see clearly, but the scattered corpses were undeniable.

Qi Yun stepped forward, his murderous aura pressing down on the standing bandits like the falling snow.

“Ahhhhh!” one bandit couldn’t bear it and screamed, fleeing backwards.

With one fleeing, the others panicked and scattered in all directions.

Yan Nanjing raised the torch, watching the ferocious bandits drop their weapons and flee in panic. Once their frantic footsteps faded into the distance and could no longer be heard, she finally exhaled slowly.

Bai Su crawled out from inside, tumbling and rolling. He fell into the blood pool and struggled hard to get up.

“Is the lady alright!” Bai Su shouted, rushing out the door, but unexpectedly stepped again into the blood, falling heavily to the ground.

This fall was even harder than inside the house. Dizzy, Bai Su propped himself up, trying to get up. But when he looked up, he saw Zheng Xuanfu finishing off a still breathing bandit lying on the ground.

He caught sight of Zheng Xuanfu cleanly slashing the bandit’s neck, a high spray of blood bursting forth.

Bai Su’s stomach churned violently; unable to hold back, he knelt aside and vomited.

Hearing the noise, Zheng Xuanfu turned around and saw Bai Su retching miserably. He casually wiped his face and looked up at Yan Nanjing.

She stood holding the torch, her gaze lowered on the scattered corpses on the ground, showing no fear whatsoever.

“Is the lady safe?” Qi Yun asked loudly, holding his blade.

Yan Nanjing nodded, “Thank you, sir. I am well.”

She wasn’t injured; if anything, the only discomfort was a slight numbness in her wrist from the resistance when reversing the blade earlier.

Qi Yun appraised her from head to toe; her winter cloak was stained with quite a bit of blood.

“If the lady is afraid—”

“May I ask, sir, how should these corpses be properly dealt with?” Yan Nanjing interrupted, pointing to the bodies.

Qi Yun raised an eyebrow, glanced at the corpses, then back at her.

“Are you not afraid?” he asked.

Yan Nanjing didn’t understand why he repeated what she had just said.

“I only fear losing my life.”

Qi Yun smiled.

He looked at her and said, “We’ll just toss these bodies far away later. The winter beasts will drag them off to feed.”

Yan Nanjing frowned even deeper. “That won’t attract tigers, will it?”

She knew there were tigers in the forest, especially since tigers did not hibernate in winter. If they were drawn here, it would be a serious problem.

“Tigers reign over the mountains and only descend if they cannot find food. When Immortal Chen built the manor, he surely took this into consideration.”

“I heard that Immortal Chen’s skills went beyond medicine; he was also versed in geomancy and the mysterious arts. So please rest assured, lady.”

Yan Nanjing looked at Qi Yun with a hint of surprise, then smiled. “That’s true. Since you already know who my elder brother is and my grandfather’s identity, it’s not so strange.”

“But how does sir know my grandfather?” she asked.

Her grandfather rarely did anything besides healing others in his early years.

“I heard that Immortal Chen once advised the refugee commander on enemy defense, using formations from the mysterious arts,” Qi Yun said with a smile. “Advance and retreat in turns, counterattacking when encircled.”

“Such talent fascinates me. But afterward, the immortal reclusive in the mountains, his whereabouts unknown. It’s said that many high officials couldn’t even visit him despite wanting to.”

Yan Nanjing nodded. She looked down at the corpses, then back at Qi Yun. “In that case, please help us dispose of these as well.”

Zheng Xuanfu protested, “How can you say that?”

“Why not?” Yan Nanjing’s expression grew even more innocent. In the firelight, her eyes glistened as she lowered her gaze to the bodies. “If it’s just a few of us, there’s no way to clean this up thoroughly. Although the corpses won’t rot immediately in winter, if not dealt with promptly, the smell will be unbearable. Surely sir doesn’t want that?”

Zheng Xuanfu glanced at her slender frame, then at Bai Su, who was still vomiting uncontrollably nearby.

“You women are truly detestable!” he grumbled, sheathing his blade and heading back inside. Soon after, he dragged out a corpse and threw it into the courtyard.

Yan Nanjing looked toward Qi Yun, who met her gaze. Unlike Zheng Xuanfu, whose emotions were plainly visible, Qi Yun appeared calm, though what lay beneath that calm was inscrutable.

“It’s late tonight. Let’s gather the corpses together and deal with them at dawn.”

Years of warfare had bred rampant banditry. Death was common.

The manor was surrounded by villages, so it wasn’t just Yan Nanjing’s place suffering; other areas had also been raided.

There would surely be casualties, and dragging a few corpses out would not draw too much attention.

“Thank you, sir.”

She had had her reservations, but knowing his admiration for her grandfather eased her concerns.

As Yan Nanjing was about to leave, he called her back.

He went back inside and, upon returning, handed her a dagger pulled from one of the corpses.

The blade was spotless, either wiped clean or never stained.

“Next time you strike, aim here,” Qi Yun said, pointing to the neck. “Even if you hit the body’s vital spot, it won’t bring down a strong man immediately. But here, within moments, it will render him immobile.”

“I understand,” Yan Nanjing nodded. Then, with some curiosity, she asked, “Aren’t you afraid telling me this?”

“If you can ask that openly, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

Yan Nanjing sheathed the dagger, preparing to leave with Ayuan. She asked the man nearby, “Do you still have the tangerines from last time, my lady?”