Chapter 129: The Arrogant “Horse Bandits”

After a brief moment of exuberance, Meng Qi put away the secret manual and continued searching through Shen Zui’s tent. Unfortunately, he found nothing else of value. Still, he was quite satisfied. Four techniques for the Qi-opening stage, a sword technique, and a deadly sword move that even Qi-opening experts would consider decent, plus a sharp weapon—adding all these up, he had gained at least six or seven hundred merit points, roughly equivalent to the reward from a single cycle mission. There were also land deeds, house deeds, and gemstones that would make his real-world life more comfortable.

If it weren’t for the urgency of rescuing his junior apprentice brother, Meng Qi would have happily begun his new career as a “horse bandit hunter” right away. Of course, this profession was dangerous too—low-level bandits had little worth stealing, while fighting high-level ones meant risking his life. Bandits like Shen Zui, who had just the right strength for him to defeat, were rare. Moreover, repeated attacks would likely provoke retaliation from the bandits, leading to a coordinated hunt against him.

Still, this was better than cycle missions—at least it wasn’t mandatory. If things turned bad, he could simply flee.

Exhaling, Meng Qi adjusted the “Heavenly Net” hidden within his left sleeve to ensure it wouldn’t be exposed. During normal combat, since it was a countermeasure against metal projectiles, Meng Qi naturally prepared for its use.

As a result, most projectile attacks posed little threat to Meng Qi. First, they had to get past the “Heavenly Net,” and second, they had to break through the defense of the Golden Bell Shield.

That was why Meng Qi hadn’t rushed to slash Shen Zui with “Severing Purity” or “Falling into the Mortal World” the moment he saw him, or simply used a “Yama Edict.” Special techniques and hidden trump cards were called such because they carried great costs or were one-time-use abilities. If special moves could be used casually, they wouldn’t be considered special techniques—they’d just be regular moves, a normal expression of one’s power, a way to crush enemies through superior fundamental strength.

“Severing Purity” and “Falling into the Mortal World” consumed massive amounts of energy. After one move, Meng Qi’s strength would drop to ordinary levels. If something unexpected occurred, he might have no choice but to use the “Sacrificial Soul Technique.”

This method, which burned one’s essence blood and damaged the body, caused increasingly severe backlash with each use. Using it too often would inevitably destabilize his foundation, leaving serious, hard-to-repair flaws. Even if the Lord of the Six Dao could help restore his body, who knew whether it might plant even greater hidden dangers? It was better to use it as little as possible.

As for the “Yama Edict,” it was a desperate, all-or-nothing technique—once used, there was no turning back. It was uncontrollable and unstoppable, and might kill Shen Zui outright. And if Shen Zui died, who would Meng Qi get information from?

Stepping out of the tent, Meng Qi saw Gu Changqing standing there, grinning foolishly, with a sword and small pack strapped to his back.

This silly kid must’ve had quite a haul… Meng Qi thought cheerfully. Gu Changqing wasn’t a favored disciple in the Gu family fortress either. After opening his Qi, he hadn’t even been given weapons or money for his travels. The bandit’s long sword from earlier, though not a superior weapon, was still better than the one he had now. As for treasures and valuables, the difference was even more obvious.

Meng Qi didn’t interrupt his “daydream.” He drew the Bingque Sword and carefully began cutting Shen Zui’s hair.

“Are you going to disguise yourself again?” Gu Changqing snapped out of his daze, wiping his mouth and asking in confusion. Why not just wrap a cloth around his head like usual?

He didn’t ask about Meng Qi’s loot either.

Meng Qi nodded. “Even if I wrap my head with cloth, it won’t be hard to notice that I have no hair during daily interactions.”

“Daily interactions? Do we really need to interact with bandits daily?” Gu Changqing asked, even more confused.

Meng Qi looked up with a smile. “Exactly. Of course, we need to interact with the bandits daily.”

“Huh? Bandits?” Gu Changqing was first surprised, then thoughtful. “Are we going to pretend to be bandits?”

“That’s right,” Meng Qi replied cheerfully. “Although Zhen Hui has already been captured by Yuan Mengzhi, the bounty on the Evil Blade killer still targets me. So there are definitely many more bandits heading toward that route, following Yuan Mengzhi’s group, hoping for a chance to snatch some glory and earn a reward from Ze Luojü.”

According to Gu Changqing’s earlier introduction, Yuan Mengzhi was a powerful figure with nine opened Qi points, supported by a deputy with eight, and several subordinates with seven or six. There were many other Qi-openers as well. In the Hanhai region, Yuan was a formidable force. After capturing Zhen Hui, most bandits likely believed that the killer on the Xiedao bounty either wouldn’t come to rescue him or would be caught by Yuan Mengzhi. Therefore, distant bandits preferred to stay in their own territories, not wasting time, hoping the killer might pass through their area.

However, nearby bandits might still attempt their luck. After all, the killer had managed to defeat the White-Headed Vulture. Even if that victory involved numerous coincidences, his strength remained formidable. Perhaps Yuan Mengzhi had merely wounded him rather than killed him, allowing him to escape.

In that case, whoever found him would be the lucky one!

Moreover, there were always new, powerful bandits eager to make names for themselves and build their own gangs. How could they miss such a grand opportunity? Even if they didn’t catch Meng Qi, in the gathering of bandits, defeating or killing a few well-known leaders would bring them instant fame!

These “newcomers” didn’t understand the rules, nor did they care for them. Meng Qi wanted to pretend to be one of them.

Gu Changqing nodded. “That makes sense. The vast sea is immense, and bandits are numerous. Most don’t know each other, and even Ze Luojü himself probably doesn’t recognize all the bandit leaders who swear loyalty to him.”

“Haha, then let’s go ‘hunt’ ourselves!” Meng Qi laughed loudly.

…

In a desolate, sandy wasteland, a small lake brought rare signs of life. Around it grew the twisted plants common in the Gobi, and scattered nearby were weathered rocks.

At the lake’s edge, not a single Gobi creature was visible, for a group of fierce-looking humans had arrived.

They all rode three horses each, their saddlebags bulging with dried food and long arrows. Swords and long blades hung from their saddles, along with strong bows and crossbows.

Leading them was a man with green eyes and yellowish beard. Calm and steady, he held a curved saber and lightly dismounted, walking toward the lake.

Other bandits checked the water’s safety, set up tents, lit fires, or went hunting after taking a few bites of dried food and drinking from their water bags. One led a gray-robed young monk into a tent.

“It’s Zhen Hui,” Meng Qi whispered into Gu Changqing’s ear using the “Secret Voice Transmission” technique from behind a weathered rock.

His hair was covered with a black cloth, wearing a tight-fitting robe typical of a bandit. He carried the “Red Sun Evil-Repelling Saber” and “Bloodthirsty Sword” on his back, his left hand gripping the hilt of the Bingque Sword.

Gu Changqing was similarly dressed, replying in the same secret voice: “Good to confirm. When will you act? I need to prepare an escape route.”

“Not yet. We wait for the right moment,” Meng Qi replied concisely.

Shortly after departing from Chelie Gorge, they had confirmed Yuan Mengzhi’s route as “White Mountain—Fish Sea,” so they covertly moved ahead. Their objectives were twofold: first, to verify whether Zhen Hui had indeed been captured, and second, to await the “opportune moment” Meng Qi had mentioned. Since Yuan Mengzhi had publicly declared his plan to transport the hostage to Xie Ridge, Meng Qi and Gu Changqing didn’t even need to inquire—they had naturally learned of it. Thus, as they journeyed through the Vast Sea, they didn’t have to worry about exposure. Their disguises and unexpected identities temporarily fooled the bandits, who relied solely on sketches to identify individuals.

“Wait for the right moment?” Gu Changqing frowned in confusion. Seeing Meng Qi didn’t intend to explain further, he turned with him toward the tent at the edge of the weathered rocks.

Putting other thoughts aside, Meng Qi walked and mused aloud: “Changqing, show me that sword move again.”

Gu Changqing understood, drawing his sword and swirling it into five blossoms.

Meng Qi watched carefully, then suddenly drew the Bingque Sword, pointing at a spot: “If I attack here, what would you do?”

“It’s a weak point in my sword formation. If you strike at the moment my force is about to emerge but hasn’t fully formed, I’ll have no choice but to change tactics,” Gu Changqing admitted honestly.

Recently, as the Red Sun Evil-Repelling Saber resembled a monk’s knife, Meng Qi had been hesitant to use it frequently. He found a scabbard for it and carried it on his back alongside the Bloodthirsty Sword, making them appear as if they were spoils of war. Since the Bloodthirsty Sword was Shen Zui’s personal weapon, some bandits might recognize it, so he couldn’t wield it often either and had to change its sheath.

Therefore, Meng Qi had been practicing left-handed sword techniques these days, studying the Zhao Family Fast Sword and pondering the “Solitary Sword of Nine Solitudes,” occasionally sparring with Gu Changqing.

Meng Qi smiled slightly, having gained some insight—but as he approached the edge of the weathered rocks, his expression changed.

Near their tent, three corpses lay on the ground—two men and one woman. Several bandits were searching them for valuables and stripping their clothes.

These three were clearly nomadic herders who had happened to pass by the lake. But times had changed, and they had been brutally killed by the gathered bandits.

Nearby, several camps had been set up, and many bandits moved about in factions, watching coldly.

It was precisely because many bandit groups had secretly followed Yuan Mengzhi that Meng Qi and Gu Changqing felt no fear of exposure while observing the lake—there were at least dozens, if not a hundred, others who had done the same.

Frowning, Meng Qi walked back, watching the bandit who seemed to want to desecrate the female corpse. He was just thinking of an excuse to strike.

“What are you staring at, brat?” The interrupted bandit glared viciously at Meng Qi, annoyed at having his “pleasure” disturbed. He had opened his Eye Qi and was known for cruelty and killing among the bandits.

Meng Qi didn’t reply. His left hand flicked out, sword fast as a shuttle, aiming straight for the bandit’s throat.

As a newly risen “bandit” eager to kill a “senior” for fame, did he really need a reason to kill?

The bandit had not expected this pale-faced youth to attack without warning. He was momentarily too stunned to react. By the time he realized, Meng Qi’s fast sword was already at his neck.

He hastily leaned back, but as if Meng Qi had anticipated this, the sword tip suddenly dipped, piercing through his body just below the neck, killing him instantly.

Thud! The bandit fell backward, blood gushing from his wound.

“You! Do you even know the rules?” Another bandit, shocked and stunned, drew his saber, trembling as he pointed it at Meng Qi.

Even among bandits—blood-soaked, life-risking outlaws—few willingly engaged in pointless fights to the death. When they gathered together, they naturally had some unwritten rules to constrain each other and avoid internal conflicts. Yet this fellow had attacked without warning, killing without blinking—an act that truly chilled the heart!

He looked so young. Could he be one of those eager newcomers desperate for fame?

Such people were indeed ruthless and heartless, ignoring all rules, making others both hate and fear them!

But the vast sea and all the bosses would teach him a lesson!

Bandits who constantly ignored rules were rare—either they died quickly or gained maturity through bloodshed!

No matter the profession, the longer one practiced it, the more their sharpness dulled. Bandits were no exception.