—Is it true that kind people are always weak?
The villagers still didn’t understand why these soldiers had driven them from their homes to this place.
The leader of these fearsome soldiers was an enigmatic Daoist dressed in green robes.
The Daoist remained silent most of the time, but even as he stood under the warm sunlight, he exuded an aura so chilling it made people shudder.
The wind blew through his long beard, causing it to flutter in the sunlight. His eyes, narrowed to slits, were fixed on the end of the main road.
Yan Zi Qing stood silently at his side, hands clasped.
—They were waiting for someone.
—And they wouldn’t have to wait long.
The villagers at the ferry crossing could sense that something extraordinary was about to happen. But they also knew that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be a pleasant event.
Suddenly, amidst the hoarse cries of a wailing child, two riders appeared in the distance, galloping swiftly toward the crossing. Behind them trailed a group of over ten riders—the Ironblood Guards of Mount Jun.
As the Daoist caught sight of the two riders, his face twisted into a terrifying expression of murderous intent. The soldiers around him tensed immediately, their swords and blades clinking ominously. The metallic sounds drowned out the murmurs of the crowd and the cries of infants.
Now everyone knew—the soldiers of the Xiang Yang Prince had been waiting for these two individuals.
As the two horses approached the gathered crowd, they slowed down. The villagers could now see clearly who these riders were.
—The rider slightly ahead was a tall, imposing middle-aged man, radiating an aura of authority like a general leading his troops into battle.
—The other was a young man dressed in black, with a pale but refined face, an ancient sword by his side, and a pair of piercing eyes that shone like stars in the night, eyes that seemed to see through everything.
At this moment, those sharp eyes were fixed squarely on the green-robed Daoist.
The Daoist finally broke his silence.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t take another step forward.”
Zhan Zhao tightened his grip on his sword. His voice, slightly hoarse, carried a hint of suppressed anger: “I didn’t expect you to use poison on them.”
Mo Dao spoke slowly, almost lazily, “The Cult of Asura’s poison is far too precious to waste on ignorant old folks, women, and children. But these people know well enough that three paces ahead lies my Eye Charm array. Should they try to flee forward, they will step into it, and their bodies will rot away, leaving them to die in agony. Behind them lies the endless river. Unless they are strong and able-bodied, anyone who falls into it will never resurface alive.”
His gaze locked onto Zhan Zhao, and a sinister grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with malice and triumph.
“To cross this ferry, you must pass through the Eye Charm Array. No matter how skilled your lightfoot techniques are, as soon as you approach the poison-filled array, the effects of ‘Old Friends at First Sight’ in your system will react with the surrounding toxins. When that happens, it will be you who causes the deaths of these villagers!”
Among the crowd, frightened sobs could already be heard.
Zhan Zhao’s expression darkened.
—But if he didn’t move forward, then what?
Zhong Xiong’s eyes seemed to hold a flicker of sorrow and pity, but he quickly turned his gaze to the horizon.
Zhan Zhao’s sharp eyes gleamed like the edge of a blade. Slowly, he asked, “What do you want?”
Mo Dao did not answer.
The one who spoke instead was Yan Zi Qing: “Protector Zhan, isn’t that a question with an obvious answer? You broke into Chong Xiao Tower at night and stole the prince’s alliance pact. Now, you’ve taken Chief Zhong hostage. Do you still believe you can escape so easily?”
Yan Zi Qing looked into Zhan Zhao’s eyes, searching for a reaction, but he found none. Zhan Zhao’s gaze remained calm and unchanged.
—Was it because Yan Zi Qing’s every word had already been anticipated by Zhan Zhao?
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