Volume Three: Rising Fame Chapter Sixteen: Sharing of Experience

Stepping into the village, it was quite different from what Li Yu had imagined—a large group moving forward with overwhelming force, crushing everything in their path. The soldiers behind him kept splitting off, taking advantageous positions on either side, moving with such speed that before Li Yu even glimpsed the bandits, the central deployment was already complete.

Qing Yangde noticed the confusion on Li Yu’s face and explained, “When entering an unfamiliar environment, the most important thing is to control the flow of information. That way, you won’t stumble headlong into a spider’s web.”

“I understand!” Li Yu nodded. He had observed that Qing Yangde often, seemingly by chance, taught him things never covered within the Qing clan. Li Yu was eager to learn, accepting every piece of knowledge without reservation.

The ground was stained with bright red splashes—the source of the blood was easy to deduce, for its owners lay nearby. Li Yu followed Qing Yangde’s pace, walking as if on a leisurely stroll, not moving too quickly.

“If you move too fast, you’re likely to overlook the details,” Qing Yangde remarked, his gaze flickering as he pointed to a nearby building. There, a meter-long gash marked the wall. “Look at this. Such large-scale damage is caused by cultivators of the entry-grade. Though all these marks are left by bladed weapons, there are subtle differences among them.”

“Compared to the previous knife marks, this one also contains wood elemental energy. Yet its quality is much more violent—clearly not caused by the same person!” Li Yu focused his attention.

The five elements—gold, wood, water, fire, earth—were divided into broad categories, but if one were to enumerate their nuances, they were as varied as the people themselves. Each type could be subdivided endlessly: gentle, full of vitality, explosive, scorching...

Only now did Li Yu realize, as in martial contests, Qing Yuan’s wood-elemental energy was exceptionally explosive, each strike carrying a thorn-like sharpness, whereas Qing Tiangan’s was comparatively gentle, the wood energy persistent and tangled like vines.

Listening to Qing Yangde, the two of them moved along, sometimes stopping. Li Yu soon sensed the differences—though much of the massive battle damage was caused by weapons, the energies lingering on them were distinct.

“There are six kinds?” Li Yu closed his eyes to sense, his brows knitting slightly. According to the intelligence, weren’t there only three cultivators of the Divine Path? One of eighth grade, two of ninth.

“That’s right, six in total,” Qing Yangde nodded, speaking evenly. “Often we rely on experience for judgment. For example, if the bandit leader is eighth grade, we assume the highest combat power among them is eighth grade as well.”

“The time is short, and mere observation is bound to miss something. So even with intelligence, you must combine it with your own judgment!”

“Just as plans can never keep up with changes,” Li Yu echoed. Who knows, maybe the bandit leader would suddenly drop his disguise and the whole group would be third grade cultivators.

With just a few words from Qing Yangde, Li Yu became more vigilant, beginning to observe carefully. Seeing this, Qing Yangde nodded secretly. He was a few years older than Li Yu; though his cultivation couldn’t compare, his experience and insight left Li Yu far behind.

When they met, Qing Yangde had noticed that Li Yu, though not corrupted by his sudden rise in status, had still developed subtle, unhelpful attitudes. Talent only meant a smooth path in cultivation, but cultivation also required the cultivation of the heart. Li Yu, in just a short time, had caught up with the clan’s carefully nurtured seeds like Qing Yuan, inevitably fostering a sense of invincibility. Yet there would always be someone more talented, and cultivation was, after all, about the strong oppressing the weak; there would always be those who would use any means necessary.

That was why Qing Yangde deliberately slowed his pace, imparting experience through action.

This village was much like Stone Village, mainly constructed of wood, but larger in scale. There were more houses here, with better facilities.

“Thank you, Brother Yangde!” Li Yu said in a deep voice.

He wasn’t foolish, and quickly understood the subtle kindness and intentions behind Qing Yangde’s actions.

“No need for thanks! An Qi treats you like an elder brother, too!” Qing Yangde rolled his eyes, feigning anger before changing the subject, “We’re here—let’s go over.”

Li Yu looked up.

Unknowingly, they had reached the street corner. This unnamed village, like Stone Village, had a spacious central plaza, now crowded with people, with anxious voices rising from within.

At such close range, the Qingyang military had taken up observation posts all around. The bandits who had raided the village had already noticed, and when they tried to escape elsewhere, they realized the army had encircled them without their knowing.

Moreover, the troops had merely driven them back into the plaza, then quietly stood guard nearby.

This bizarre atmosphere left the bandits at a loss, uncertain what to do.

“General, Young Master Li Yu!” The adjutant came forward. “These people tried to flee, but we forced them back.”

Qing Yangde said little, nodding as he guided his beast to the front of the troops. Li Yu followed closely, curiously observing the crowd.

After seeing the Qingyang army up close, Li Yu finally understood: a group clad in armor, wielding sabers, and riding scaley horses did not make a true military force. Lin Sanjin, who had raided Stone Village, was the first hostile power Li Yu had encountered upon arriving in this strange world. Later, he compared that bandit crew to the Qingyang soldiers.

It was even more lopsided than smashing an egg against a rock—nothing left but crumbs. Standard weapons, assigned beast mounts, strict discipline—the Qingyang army’s quality was leaps and bounds above Lin Sanjin’s ragtag mob.

Now, facing this hapless group of bandits, Li Yu clicked his tongue in amazement. Standing to Qing Yangde’s left, he could see clearly—Qing Yangde’s cheeks were twitching, suppressing something.

“What now?” The bandits huddled together, at the center a man of about thirty. He opened his mouth, but struggled for a long time before finally uttering a few words.

“What now? Might as well do nothing!”

Beside him were two elderly men, both dressed as bandits but oddly out of place upon closer inspection. They watched the younger man’s trembling legs, disappointment flickering in their eyes, especially at his hesitant question, leaving them speechless.

If not for his peculiar habits, they wouldn’t have been herded like ducks into this plaza.

After a long pause, one of the elders finally tried to comfort, “Don’t worry, we must have just stumbled into trouble. With the master’s connections, we won’t face anything serious.”

Just then, the other elder saw two figures approaching slowly down the street, clearly of high status. When the adjutant—whose rank was clearly not low—came forward and called out “General” in a booming voice, his heart plummeted.

“It’s over…” The elder’s mouth twitched, unable to utter a sound for quite some time. At last, he could only let out a long, drawn-out sigh.