The New Year drew near as Gao Han devoted himself to relentless cultivation, sparing neither thought nor rest for the world around him. In these past few days, his cultivation base had grown increasingly stable. He sensed that, given a little more time to temper his Ninth Layer Qi Condensation to a finer state, he would soon advance to the mid-stage of the realm.
The New Year arrived quietly and unannounced. In the grand hall of the Gao clan, all members gathered to exchange New Year greetings. Yet after paying his respects to his parents and his third uncle, Gao Han withdrew to a quiet corner of the hall, keeping himself out of sight. Gao Jianshang noticed his demeanor and shook his head with a faint, knowing smile—geniuses always bore their own peculiar quirks.
At dawn the next day, barely past the New Year, Gao Han resolved to set out.
"Han'er, wait a few more days before leaving," Li Xiuzhi pleaded, reluctant to part with her son.
Gao Han smiled gently. "This parting is only for an earlier reunion. My heart is already set on the Misty Sect, and there is little point in lingering when my mind is no longer here."
With that, he swung himself onto his horse. "Father, Mother, I take my leave."
His figure blurred as the steed galloped away, fading from Gao Jianfei and his wife's sight until it vanished into the glow of the rising sun. The couple turned and walked hand in hand back into the manor.
The horse carried Gao Han farther and farther from Baicheng, toward his next destination: Eastspirit City, one of the most prosperous cities in the Ling Kingdom. Only a handful of cities across the realm could match its splendor; a small town like Baicheng did not possess even a tenth of its vitality. In Eastspirit City, warriors at the Sixth Layer of Qi Condensation were commonplace, whereas in Baicheng, such a level marked one as an elite fighter.
As a bustling metropolis, Eastspirit City saw a constant stream of travelers passing through its gates. On that day, a handsome young man leading a chestnut stallion arrived at the entrance. Clad in a black silk robe with a purple jade belt, his raven hair tied back with a black silk ribbon, he cut a sharp and poised figure.
"Halt! Every soul entering the city must pay one tael of silver as an entry fee."
A city guard stepped forward to bar his way. The young man tossed a silver ingot and spoke coolly. "Keep the change." Ignoring the elated guards behind him, he led his horse into the city.
The young man was naturally Gao Han. Before his departure, his father had given him thirty thousand taels in banknotes for his journey, and his mother had pressed four thousand taels of her own savings into his hands, begging him to watch over Gao Yang once they reached the Misty Sect. Though Gao Jianfei was clan leader, the clan's wealth was not his alone to command—and the Gao family, being a minor clan in the Ling Kingdom, could scarce boast great riches.
Walking along Eastspirit Avenue, Gao Han could not help but marvel. A great city was indeed a world apart from a small town like Baicheng. Stalls lined both sides of the street, and the air hummed with the cries of vendors. Moments earlier, he had even spotted a merchant selling cultivation manuals—crude, low-tier ones at that, and likely counterfeit, yet such a sight would have been unthinkable in Baicheng, where every manual was guarded like a treasure and never traded openly.
Deeper into the city center, the bustle grew more vibrant still, and the goods exchanged were of a vastly higher caliber. Yet the ten taels required to enter the central district stung Gao Han's purse.
"Premium Qi-Nourishing Grass! Eighty taels only—you will not find a better price beyond Eastspirit!"
"Party seeking one more warrior! Eighth Layer Qi Condensation or higher, to hunt the flower thief Shadowless. Sixty taels each upon success!"
A cacophony of calls filled the air, making Gao Han feel as though he had wandered into a common marketplace. Yet everyone here was a warrior, for only they could spend tens of taels on a whim. An ordinary household might spend no more than a hundred taels in an entire year.
"Young hero!"
A frail, aged voice called out behind him as Gao Han glanced about. He turned to see a white-haired elder and spoke with quiet composure. "What may I do for you, elder?"
The elder smiled courteously. "I am the steward of the Yi Clan Caravan. I have accompanied our young lady to Eastspirit to escort a shipment to Feng City. But bandits have run rampant on the roads lately. Might I ask your cultivation level? If you are willing, would you join us as an escort?"
Feng City was precisely his next destination. Gao Han replied calmly. "I am at the peak of the Eighth Layer of Qi Condensation. Will that suffice? And what of the reward?"
"Peak Eighth Layer!" The elder stared at Gao Han's youthful face in astonishment. "To think a young man of your years could wield such power. As for the reward—one hundred and twenty taels upon completion. We already have two Ninth Layer warriors in our company."
Gao Han nodded slightly. He was bound for Feng City anyway; earning silver along the way cost him nothing. The steward smiled and led him toward a small group waiting nearby.
"Uncle Hu, is this our last warrior? He is so young—can he truly be of help?" A delicate young woman asked, with a plain-looking maid standing behind her.
"My lady, do not be deceived by his age. He is a master of the Eighth Layer!" Steward Hu hastened to explain.
A young man standing nearby spoke with haughty pride. "Very well. Though he is little more than a burden, with my Ninth Layer cultivation protecting you, milady, you have nothing to fear."
The man clearly sought to impress the young lady and win her favor. Four or five Eighth Layer warriors behind him chorused their agreement.
Miss Yi nodded gently. "Then I shall rely on you, Young Master Gu. Let us depart."
She and her maid retreated into a horse-drawn carriage. The guards and hired warriors mounted their horses, while Steward Hu climbed onto the wagon carrying the cargo. The thirty-strong caravan set off in a grand procession toward the city gates.
Eastspirit City was not far from Feng City; at the caravan's pace, they would arrive within seven or eight days. Gao Han rode along with the group as the bitter winter wind cut like a blade across everyone's faces. Though they were cultivators, few could afford to channel inner qi constantly against the cold, nor could they afford to exhaust themselves, lest they be unprepared for sudden danger. By day's end, everyone was shivering.
As the sun sank below the horizon, Steward Hu suggested they make camp. The group dismounted, gathered dry firewood, and lit small bonfires to warm their frostbitten bodies. All but two gathered around the flames: one was the caravan's other Ninth Layer warrior, Yu Tianci, who perched on a tree branch nearby with eyes half-closed; the other was Gao Han.
After a full day in the biting wind, Gao Han felt more invigorated than ever. A bonfire? Preposterous. The cold itself was nourishment to him. Steward Hu sighed softly. "Youthful recklessness. He wastes his qi warding off the cold. If bandits come, he will have no strength left to fight."
Such was the thought of everyone in the group, who looked upon Gao Han with quiet disdain—a sheltered young master with no experience of the world.
After eating their dry rations, the group settled near the fires to rest. Miss Yi and her maid retired to their carriage, guarded by eight warriors of the Seventh and Eighth Layers. In the shadows, Gao Han leaned against a tree, clad in black, almost merging with the night.
The night wore on, the crackle of firewood mingling with the soft thud of snow falling from branches. As hours passed, the night guards rotated, one by one. Gradually, even those on watch succumbed to drowsiness and nodded off.
"Awake! All of you! Attack! We are under attack!"
A shout jolted the camp awake.
"Yu Tianci! What is all this yelling for? You woke me up!" Young Master Gu snapped furiously at the other Ninth Layer warrior.
"Prepare yourselves! A band of riders is approaching. If I am not mistaken, they are bandits!" Yu Tianci's voice was grave.
The sleepy camp jolted to its feet, weapons gripped tightly. Miss Yi stepped out of her carriage, her expression stern.
Gao Han had opened his eyes the moment Yu Tianci shouted. Now he watched the commotion calmly, twirling his longsword between his fingers in a constant, effortless spin. He had detected the bandits moments before Yu Tianci and had spent the time centering his mind, loosening his stiff wrists after a night of meditation.
The nervous group frowned at Gao Han's casual play-acting. Steward Hu spoke up awkwardly. "Young hero, bandits may be upon us at any moment. Please take this seriously."
Gao Han glanced at the elder, his sword still spinning. "Do you command me?"
"You are no longer part of this company! You are dismissed!" Miss Yi snapped. She had long grown irritated by Gao Han's seemingly foolish behavior throughout the journey, and his nonchalance in the face of mortal danger had stretched her patience to its limit.
Gao Han replied indifferently. "As you wish."
At that very moment, the thunder of hooves drew near, accompanied by wild shouts. Before long, the caravan was surrounded by over two hundred bandits.
"Surrender your valuables peacefully, and I might grant you a quick death. Otherwise… heh heh."
A burly middle-aged man rode at the head of the bandits, his face twisted into a savage grin, a scar snaking across his cheek as if alive.
"Captain, we are of the Yi Clan Caravan. Grant us a measure of mercy, for the Yi Clan's sake. We are willing to pay one thousand taels in banknotes. What say you?" Steward Hu attempted to negotiate.
"One thousand taels? Old fool, do you take me for a beggar?" The bandit chief glowered.
A lackey behind him leered. "Chief, look at the two girls in the middle!"
The chief had been too busy bargaining to notice them earlier. Now his eyes lit up with greed. "Six thousand taels—and those two girls stay with us. The pretty one becomes my bride."
Never had Miss Yi, proud and noble, been spoken to with such lewd vulgarity. She flew into a rage. "You deserve death! I shall tell my father of this, and he will wipe your filth from the earth!"
Steward Hu smiled bitterly. His lady's temper had ruined any chance of negotiation. Now, it seemed none of them would survive.
Sure enough, the bandit chief's face turned icy. "Then leave none alive. As for the women—after I have my fun, you may have them until they breathe no more."
"I shall protect you, milady! Listen, bandits! I am a Ninth Layer warrior! Flee, or die!" Young Master Gu stepped boldly in front of Miss Yi and threatened the bandits.
His answer was a storm of sharp sabers. Gu hastily raised his sword to defend himself. At a silent signal, the surrounding bandits charged, their weapons glinting with cold light.
The two forces clashed. Though the caravan's warriors were powerful, the bandits outnumbered them greatly, and they too had strong fighters. Young Master Gu and Yu Tianci were each encircled by several Eighth Layer bandits, unable to aid anyone else. Miss Yi was no weakling either—she stood at the peak of the Seventh Layer—and together with her Fifth Layer maid, they fought fiercely amid the fray.
Gao Han remained aloof, watching the battle from the shadows, his sword still spinning lazily. As far as he was concerned, he had been dismissed, and the caravan's fate was no concern of his. He was no savior.
The chaotic battle raged on, and casualties mounted on both sides—though more heavily among the bandits, who were little more than a disorderly mob with uneven cultivation. Most were only Sixth Layer, some even Fifth; only a handful had reached the Seventh or Eighth Layers.
"Second, Third, Fourth—see those two Ninth Layer warriors? Take them down together, and this will be over quickly!" The bandit chief grew restless and conferred with three lieutenants behind him.
The three band leaders exchanged glances and nodded. Their auras flared, revealing their cultivation: all were Ninth Layer warriors, with the second-in-command standing at the peak of the Ninth Layer.
They charged at Young Master Gu. In a single wave of strikes, the Ninth Layer warrior was torn apart. The caravan's guards stared in horror—three Ninth Layer experts, one of them at the peak! Their hopes of survival crumbled. In that moment of hesitation, several more guards fell. Only a dozen or so remained.
Having slain Gu, the three bandits turned on Yu Tianci, who, having witnessed the carnage, fought with every ounce of his strength.
Just then, an Eighth Layer bandit spotted Gao Han and lunged at him, saber raised. Gao Han's fingers clamped around the hilt of his spinning sword. In one fluid motion, he drew the blade and struck the bandit down.
Gao Han's stillness had kept him unnoticed, but his strike drew the bandits' attention. A swarm charged toward him. A flicker of anger crossed Gao Han's calm face. "I harm none who harm me not. But those who dare raise a hand against me shall die."
He channeled inner qi into his sword and cut down the onrushing bandits one by one. In less than ten seconds, every bandit who had attacked him lay dead.
Carpeted corpses surrounded him. The three Ninth Layer bandits took notice, and one broke off to kill Gao Han. As the bandit charged, Gao Han poured his qi into his sword and slashed forward with one hand. The bandit hastily blocked with his saber, which chipped at the impact, a tiny gap marring its blade. The bandit was thrown back more than a dozen steps, staring at Gao Han in shock. A mere Eighth Layer cultivator had repelled him.
The entire camp stared in disbelief. Gao Han gave them no time to recover. He channeled all his Eighth Layer qi into his sword and unleashed the fifth form of the Soul-Breaking Sword Art. A single strike pierced the bandit's heart. As Gao Han pulled his sword free, the bandit collapsed dead.
"All of you shall perish."
Gao Han held his sword slanted toward the ground and advanced on the two remaining Ninth Layer bandits frozen before Yu Tianci.