Chapter 69: The Blood-Stained Robe (Double Chapter)

Chapter 69: Blood-Stained Garment (Double-Feature in One)

Clop! Clop! Clop!

A tawny steed galloped swiftly along the post road, carrying a bamboo-hatted man with a blade strapped to his back.

The bamboo-hatted man's attire appeared somewhat disheveled.

It seemed he had been traveling for many days and had not even had time to tidy himself up. Yet, his gaze lacked the usual fatigue and dullness of ordinary people; instead, it was bright and calm.

At a single glance, one could tell he was a martial artist.

However, what no one knew was that the ordinary blade sheathed in the scabbard on his back was actually a demonic weapon possessing a human soul.

"According to ancient beliefs, everyone possesses a soul and spirit. Although I no longer possess a physical body, my faculty of thought is not restricted, so I should still have a soul."

Having moved past the initial novelty, Jiang Ren had grown indifferent to the monotonous scenery of the outside world. During the intervals of his cultivation, he would study his own blade-body. "The mental energy consumed by cultivation is perhaps more accurately called soul power."

Looking at the mysterious energy that had been more than half replenished over the past few days, he pondered silently.

"The mysterious energy is transformed from soul power and can be used to strengthen and enhance the blade's hardness and sharpness. Why not call it weapon energy—the energy of arms?"

"That way, even if I switch to another weapon in the future, this terminology will still apply."

"And those bloody light spots absorbed from the dead bodies the other day... since their color is red, let's simply call them blood energy."

Jiang Ren felt somewhat satisfied with these designations.

After all, for someone like him who was terrible at naming things, being able to rack his brain and come up with a few names that passed muster was already not bad.

"No wait, I don't even have a head right now, how did I rack my brain? Rack my blade?"

"That's not right either, there is no juice inside a blade..."

Just as Jiang Ren was struggling with this, Nie Qingge pulled on the reins.

"Whoa!"

Nie Qingge let out a vocal cue, and the mount's speed gradually slowed down.

In an open space not far ahead.

There stood a crude tea shed constructed of timber.

Over a dozen traveling merchants were resting and drinking tea inside, while an elderly couple served them.

At this moment, the traveling merchants also noticed the approaching Nie Qingge.

Seeing his dusty appearance and the weapon strapped to his back, which marked him as someone not to be trifled with, their conversation involuntarily quieted down. Many even lowered their heads, seemingly afraid to offend him.

"This tea shed seems rather interesting."

The scene inside the tea shed caught Jiang Ren's attention.

Especially the group of traveling merchants drinking tea; beside each of them sat a load of cargo, many of which were covered with a layer of gray burlap.

It looked normal enough, but judging from the protruding shape of one of the loads, there ought to be a broadsword hidden beneath it.

"Looks like there's a good show to watch."

Jiang Ren shifted his attention back to Nie Qingge. Through the subtle changes in this toolman's gaze, it was clear he had also spotted the anomaly.

Instead of riding past, Nie Qingge stopped right at the entrance of the tea shed.

He tied his horse's reins to a nearby tree, cast a casual glance at the traveling merchants, and said to the old man who came up to greet him, "Bring me a pot of hot tea, and what kind of food do you have here?"

"Sir, this old man only has some raw dough-snacks here. What do you think?"

The old man ushered Nie Qingge to an empty table and vigorously wiped the surface with a tattered cloth hanging from his shoulder.

Nie Qingge did not mind. "Then bring me some raw dough-snacks."

In order to reach the agreed-upon destination as quickly as possible, he rarely stopped even when passing populated areas. He had slept by the roadside for two consecutive days, surviving solely on coarse dry rations.

Being able to drink a pot of hot tea and eat some snacks now wasn't bad either.

Seeming to realize that Nie Qingge lacked the overbearing arrogance typical of martial artists, the nearby traveling merchants resumed their banter, occasionally bursting into fits of laughter.

Even so, their voices were still much quieter than before.

"Sir, your tea and snacks."

The old man placed a pot of hot tea and a plate of snacks on the table, then turned to leave.

Nie Qingge spoke up, "Wait!"

The old man turned back in confusion. "Sir, is there anything else you desire?"

"These snacks of yours are moldy."

Nie Qingge reached out, poked through the snacks, and his expression turned somewhat frosty.

"Terribly sorry, these snacks must have caught some moisture these past few days. I'll swap them for you right away."

A look of apprehension appeared on the old man's face as his trembling hands reached out to take the plate.

Smack!

Nie Qingge struck the table heavily. "Did I tell you to move?"

The tea shed, which had been filled with laughter, suddenly fell dead silent. The traveling merchants all turned to look.

Unlike their cautious movements and expressions, their eyes held no fear whatsoever, faintly gleaming with a fierce intent. Many gazes even swept across Nie Qingge's neck and heart.

"And this tea, is this something fit for human consumption?"

Nie Qingge smashed the teapot onto the ground.

The teapot shattered, and the tea spilled entirely onto the muddy ground.

"Terribly sorry, I'll go change it for you right away..."

The old man lowered his head, trembling, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes while the veins on the hands hidden within his sleeves bulged violently.

Clang!

The sound of a blade ringing out.

The edge of the blade sliced upward, cutting open the old man's throat.

The old man's expression froze instantly. His hands clutched tightly at his throat as he collapsed with wide-open eyes, bright red blood gushing out. After struggling for a few moments, he breathed his last.

And Nie Qingge, the one who had delivered that strike, was still seated on the wooden stool, a blade now in his right hand, the pristine white blade unstained by a single drop of blood.

At that very instant.

Several traveling merchants instinctively reached for the cargo behind them.

However, at the sound of a light cough, when they saw the middle-aged traveling merchant with a full beard seated in the middle of the tea shed shake his head, they all halted their movements and feigned fear as they looked at Nie Qingge.

"Husband!"

The old woman who had been boiling tea shrieked and rushed over in tears. "You unreasonable wretch, to kill my husband over such a trivial matter..."

She could not finish her words; she too clutched her spurting throat and collapsed to the ground.

"Two points of blood energy, saving me half a day's effort."

Jiang Ren cast an appreciative look at Nie Qingge, then guided the blood energy emanating from the couple into the blade-body.

Judging by the current situation, if everything went smoothly, he could save at least several days' worth of labor today.

He simply loved such decisive toolmen—why use words when you can take action?

At this moment, he even sincerely hoped this toolman could live a little longer, because not everyone killed with such absolute crispness.

The bearded traveling merchant's expression turned cold as he stood up. "Brother, to kill the innkeeper over a minor trifle, isn't that a bit harsh?"

"Harsh?"

Nie Qingge chuckled lightly, his toes tapping the ground as he flashed forward, instantly slashing toward a traveling merchant at the neighboring table.

Seeing this sudden attack, the bearded man hurriedly shouted, "Watch out, move!"

Yet at such close range, the man targeted by Nie Qingge had no time to react before his fragile throat was sliced open by the sharp blade.

"Kill him!"

The burlap covering the cargo was ripped away, revealing sheathed and unsheathed sabers and swords beneath.

The traveling merchants, who moments ago looked like ordinary, nervous, and frightened peasants, now skillfully snatched up their weapons and slashed toward Nie Qingge.

The flimsy wooden tables and chairs around them were quickly reduced to splinters amidst the flashing lights of blades and swords.

At the cost of several casualties, the bearded man and the remaining traveling merchants forced Nie Qingge into a corner of the tea shed.

"Who are you? Why are you killing my men?"

The bearded man's expression was filled with extreme rage.

This bamboo-hatted man, an unexpected variable, had ruined his plan of several days.

Nie Qingge glanced at the couple nearby whose throats had been slit, and said calmly, "You are accomplices with them."

"Just because of that?"

The bearded man laughed out of sheer anger.

Despite giving strict instructions, it was inevitable that someone might have interacted with the disguised innkeepers, and it wasn't impossible for a veteran of the pugilistic world to notice something amiss.

Yet to resort to sudden murder simply on that account was something he found utterly unacceptable.

"The tea was poisoned."

Nie Qingge remained taciturn; this was one of the reasons he had killed them.

The bearded man's eyes narrowed into slits. "How did you figure that out?"

The tea was indeed poisoned, and it was done on his orders.

After all, this plan, prepared over several days, had reached its final and most crucial step; he could not allow any mishaps.

Thus, using doctored tea to incapacitate this unfathomable martial artist was undoubtedly a fine choice.

As for whether to kill or bury him afterward, that would depend on his mood.

Yet the bearded man had not expected that their scheme would not only be seen through, but several of his men killed, and the tea shed they had set up for days largely destroyed.

Given the time, it was impossible to prepare anew.

"The smell was off."

Nie Qingge remained as tight-lipped as ever.

"Kill him!"

Without further ado, the bearded man gave the order, and over a dozen men charged at Nie Qingge in unison.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The rapid sounds of clashing weaponry echoed incessantly from within the tea shed.

The cloth curtains meant to shield against wind and rain were stained with pool after pool of blood.

On the post road not far away.

Three carriages advanced at a moderate pace, escorted by over twenty mounted guards.

"Brother, that Master Lin..."

At the front of the convoy, a young guard spoke to the head guard, Wang Chen.

Wang Chen suddenly looked toward the young guard.

Realizing he had misspoken, the young guard immediately corrected himself. "Brother, Master Lin is merely a scholar, and the people he knows aren't necessarily skilled fighters. Is it really wise to let him leak the location of our convoy like this?"

"Although Master Lin is a scholar, he never exaggerates or conceals matters. If he says doing this will help us, then it certainly will."

Wang Chen looked ahead. If the speaker hadn't been his own younger brother, he wouldn't have bothered wasting a single word.

The question was so foolish that it made him wonder if he had pampered his brother too much in the past.

"What help can a pugilist possibly be to us?"

The young guard paused before continuing, "I'm not looking down on those people, but they call themselves heroes of chivalry when in truth they are nothing more than common thugs—bullying the weak and fearing the strong. When good things happen, they run faster than anyone; when danger strikes, they flee faster than anyone. It's questionable whether such a person would even show up because of a single letter."

Wang Chen looked at the outline of the tea shed ahead and said, "If he doesn't come, all the better; it won't affect us much. But if he does come, he is at least a man of his word. What is there to worry about?"

"Chief, I still think we should be cautious. If a villain turns up and harbors evil intentions toward the young miss, then..."

The young guard's voice trailed off as he stared blankly ahead.

He saw that the roadside tea shed was on the verge of collapse. Over a dozen bodies lay inside, their drained blood staining the ground crimson. In the middle stood a man wearing a bamboo hat, still clutching a blade in his right hand.

The pristine white blade was stained with copious amounts of blood, which was currently slowly forming droplets and dripping from the tip.

The bamboo-hatted man seemed to have noticed them as well, and began walking toward them with his weapon in hand.

"Form up! Protect the young miss!"

Wang Chen immediately raised a hand and shouted.

All the guards drew their sabers and swords, guarding the three carriages, with fully half of them gathering around Wang Chen.

Seeing the bamboo-hatted man walking slowly toward them from the tea shed, his clothes seemingly dyed red with blood, many of them wore wary expressions.

Though they were guards, every single one of them possessed considerable martial prowess.

Even in the martial arts world, they would be considered experts of the Post-Heaven realm, and quite a few of them had double-digit kills under their belts.

Yet at this moment.

Looking at the figures lying in pools of blood inside the tea shed and the presumed murderer slowly approaching them, tension inevitably rose in everyone's hearts.

"Guard Wang, has something happened?"

The carriage curtain of the lead carriage was pulled back, and an elderly man in green robes poked his head out.

Wang Chen replied calmly, "Rest assured, Master Lin, it's merely a trivial matter and will not affect the young miss."

With his eyesight, he could clearly make out the scene inside the tea shed.

The deceased were dressed like ordinary people.

However, judging by the scattered weapons, they were likely disguised experts.

For the bamboo-hatted man to have killed them all, his strength must undoubtedly be formidable, though still falling somewhat short of the Innate realm.

As for his own side, there were over twenty Post-Heaven experts. Individually, their strength might be inferior to the opponent, but combined—so long as the opponent wasn't in the Innate realm—no matter how strong he was, he would lose.

However.

Master Lin ignored his words and dismounted, walking to the front.

"Master Lin, you..."

Wang Chen frowned, about to offer advice, when the bamboo-hatted man ahead suddenly stopped in his tracks, and a voice rang out from beneath the hat:

"Is the person approaching Master Lin Zhenwei?"

Master Lin stepped forward a few steps, standing beside Wang Chen. "I am. Might I ask which hero you are?"

"I am Nie Qingge, here in response to the letter!"

Nie Qingge bowed with cupped hands, only to realize he was still holding his blade, so he hastily thrust it back into the scabbard on his back.

"Ha ha! This old man knew my judgment wouldn't fail me."

Lin Zhenwei laughed heartily as he stepped forward to help Nie Qingge up.

Behind them.

The guards, including Wang Chen, were struck dumb with astonishment.

They had imagined that the expert mentioned by Lin Zhenwei might possess decent martial arts—perhaps on par with ordinary guards at best—never expecting him to be such a terrifying god of slaughter.

"Master Lin."

A crisp, silver-bell-like voice drifted from the convoy.

A young maiden of about twelve years emerged.

Her skin was like congealed lard, fair with a rosy flush; her eyes were as gentle as flowing water; an elegant smile hung upon her face, capable of winning anyone's immediate goodwill. Dressed in a pale pink skirt, she was both exquisite and innocent.