The beggar with six sacks had seen too many young heroes and heroines who thought their passion alone could right all wrongs in the world. They always showed up, trying to play the righteous hero, but reality would eventually teach them a lesson. Usually, if these young ones came from nearby noble families or had powerful backgrounds, the beggars would capture them and wait for their families to claim them. If not, the kids could be sold, and the so-called heroes and heroines were no exception—there were always buyers for such things.
After all, who would know where they disappeared in this vast world?
But seeing Meng Qi’s extraordinary demeanor, his heroic and masculine aura, and the faint electric light flickering along his long saber, the beggar realized this was no ordinary opponent. Suppressing his anger and murderous intent, he said coldly, “Friend, may I ask which sect you come from? Don’t let yourself be used by others and provoke our Beggar Sect!”
“You claim to have seen a beggar carrying a child enter this courtyard? Evidence alone can easily be misleading!”
Meng Qi had followed the beggar closely, only a step behind. Unless someone had intervened with external force, there was no way he could have missed it with his heightened senses. And if someone had indeed lured him into a hidden passage, they could have attacked directly instead of dragging things out. The gap in strength was decisive.
“I have no sect. I’m just a wandering cultivator,” Meng Qi replied, slightly raising his saber without embellishing his identity.
He didn’t pretend to be affiliated with the Zhou or Wang clans or the Xijian Pavilion. First, doing so might only force the Beggar Sect to hand over the child temporarily. Once he turned his back, they could kidnap more people. If he was going to act, he wanted to eradicate the problem completely. Second, he wanted to see just how far these rogue beggars had fallen into depravity.
The beggar narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone turning sinister and mocking: “So you refuse to let this go? You say you saw it with your own eyes? Hmph, so young, and already your eyesight is failing.”
Other beggars, some wielding sharp bamboo poles and others brandishing swords and blades, slowly surrounded Meng Qi, shouting accusations:
“Without evidence, you’re just slandering us!”
“The beggar clearly fled toward the alleyway! Are you blind? Better off without eyes!”
“We can take this to the Six Doors, and we’ll still be in the right! With so many witnesses, why should your word count more?”
“Heh, not bad-looking. Some rich patrons like that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like some noblewoman has a crush on you. Makes me jealous…”
“Damn you! Daring to provoke the Beggar Sect!”
“You punk! In the South, you’d already be crawling on the ground with broken teeth!”
They jeered, mocked, and cursed, positioning themselves subtly to block Meng Qi’s escape routes.
Seeing Meng Qi not retreat a single step, the six-sack beggar’s expression turned icy, his eyes flashing with menace: “Unless I teach you a lesson, you won’t know how many eyes the Horse King has! Brothers, attack! Chop him into pieces and feed him to the dogs!”
He carried six sacks not just because of his connections or accumulated merits, but also due to his considerable personal strength. His bare hands were unpredictable, skilled enough to be notable even among the Nine Orifices. Confident in his abilities, he lunged forward with a double palm strike, unleashing fierce force embodying the essence of brute strength.
Other beggars attacked from all directions, blades and poles coming from every angle, truly a deadly ambush.
Yet Meng Qi, rather than growing angry, smiled slightly. Their perception was indeed poor. Although it was difficult to recognize someone immediately based solely on vague descriptions and rough sketches, true experts could sense their presence and identify them instantly.
But this suited Meng Qi just fine.
He wiped the smile from his face. His long saber swept like a spinning wheel, cutting through the air with a heavy, thunderous sound, matching brute force with brute force.
Boom!
As if anticipating the beggar’s palm strike, Meng Qi’s saber struck first, slicing directly into the palm.
At the same time, bamboo poles and blades struck Meng Qi.
A cry rang out. The six-sack beggar hastily retreated, his protective qi shattered by a single saber strike. Half his right hand fell to the ground.
Unlike Bai Qigu, Meng Qi’s true qi surged powerfully, his body strong like a wild beast. Dodging the direct force, he struck vulnerable points. In a direct clash, the treasure weapon sliced off half the beggar’s hand!
Meng Qi’s face glowed faintly golden. With a slight shake, the beggars who had struck him were sent flying backward, blood spilling from their mouths. They were clearly not long for this world.
This was the counterforce of the Bayi Xuangong and the Golden Bell Shield!
He advanced like a war chariot, sending beggars flying to either side. Their blades and poles were like tickles against his skin, ineffective unless they struck his vital points.
His saber pursued relentlessly, giving the six-sack beggar no chance to recover!
The beggar’s eyes burned red, nearly popping from their sockets. Based on Meng Qi’s strength and that saber, he vaguely guessed the stranger’s identity.
Damn it! If you’d just announced your name, I might have shown you respect!
“Forgi—” Before the word left his lips, the saber struck again, still brutal and merciless, like thunder from the heavens.
With no choice, the six-sack beggar could only block with his left palm. His hand moved like a darting fish, shifting through techniques, trying to redirect the immense force with finesse.
Bang!
He stumbled back again, blood spilling from his lips. This strike exceeded the force he could redirect. Fortunately, Meng Qi had switched to the flat of the blade, or his left hand would have been severed too.
“You lot,” Meng Qi spoke again, striking with the flat of his saber, forcing the six-sack beggar to defend. Blood spurted from the beggar’s mouth as he staggered back. Golden light shimmered, and more beggars flew backward.
“Kidnapping women!” Meng Qi roared like thunder. The flat of the saber knocked aside the beggar’s left hand and struck his chest. His protective qi shattered, and the other beggars staggered, dazed and unable to flee.
“Evil incarnate!” The thunderous voice echoed. The six-sack beggar’s vision darkened, relying solely on instinct to block.
“Deserving of death!”
Meng Qi leapt, bringing the saber down once more—still using the flat.
Crash! The six-sack beggar slammed into a wall, blood pouring from his seven orifices, slowly slumping to the ground.
He had been killed by sheer force!
The remaining beggars, seeing this, either fled in panic or collapsed to their knees, begging for mercy:
“Great hero, spare us! We were forced by the deputy leader…”
“Master, have mercy!”
Meng Qi said nothing. He moved like a phantom, his saber flashing. One by one, the beggars fell, struck in vital areas.
The last few, seeing mercy was impossible, tried to fight to the death. But they were no match for Meng Qi—within moments, all was quiet.
Meng Qi sheathed his saber, gazed at the corpses littering the ground, and exhaled slowly. If I don’t kill you, should I wait for the Beggar Sect to retaliate? If you’ve committed unspeakable atrocities, then death is your only salvation…
To be a righteous hero, one must be even more ruthless than the villains. Otherwise, the bones of heroes would long ago have filled the sea!
“Deputy leader, so there’s still a leader…” Meng Qi pushed open the courtyard gate, found the entrance to the underground prison, and shoved open the stone door.
Inside, the cries of children, the screams of women, and the wails of men echoed clearly.
Several beggars guarded the passage. Seeing Meng Qi enter, they tried to stop him. One of them was the very beggar who had taken the child earlier.
“It’s him! He’s come after us!” The beggar stammered, instinctively throwing a dart.
Clang! The dart struck something like metal and fell lifelessly to the ground, leaving the beggars stunned.
Their darts, even at the Open Meridian level, were useless against someone like Meng Qi, who stood among the top of the Human Ranks. He often possessed the subtle awareness of Heaven and Man, sensing the flow of true qi and dodging before the darts were even thrown. Mechanical darts were harder to predict, and if they could pierce his protective qi, they could be dangerous. But Meng Qi cultivated a body-forging technique. He neither dodged nor flinched. As long as the darts didn’t strike his vital points, they were meaningless.
He advanced steadily. His saber struck with precision, and the beggars fell one by one. Their attacks caused him no harm.
Inside the prison, the children, women, and men stopped crying and screaming, staring in shock at the scene unfolding before them.
When only one beggar remained, Meng Qi suddenly seemed to feel like making small talk and casually asked, “Where is your leader?”
“He… he went to meet a friend… He took all the money with him! Great hero, have mercy!” With a thud, the beggar collapsed to his knees.
“Who is this friend?” Meng Qi asked offhandedly.
Terrified, the beggar spilled everything: “I don’t know who. Just heard it was someone injured, asking the leader to find healing herbs and arrange an escape from Ying City.”
An injured friend, escaping from Ying City… Meng Qi tightened his grip on the saber. Could it be the Wolf King?
Because of severe injuries, he couldn’t rely on himself anymore and had to seek help from outsiders?
Meng Qi asked a few more questions, but seeing the beggar knew little else, he casually slashed him down, feeling no pity.
Mercy toward evildoers is a crime against the innocent!
He walked forward, grabbed the iron lock, twisted it with a single motion, and the lock snapped open.
Only then did the kidnapped people awaken from their shock. Their suppressed cries erupted. At first, thin and sharp, as if clawing their way from deep within their chests, then full-throated wailing, releasing their fear and despair.
Meng Qi listened quietly, then said gently, “Alright, follow me out.”
“Great hero, thank you for saving us!” One of the more educated among them bowed deeply. Others followed suit.
Once they had calmed slightly, Meng Qi turned and led them out of the prison. As they re-entered the courtyard, they saw a monk standing amidst the blood and corpses.
He wore a yellow robe, his face plain and unremarkable, but his eyes were calm and mature. A string of Buddhist prayer beads from Shaolin hung from his neck. Despite the carnage around him, he seemed untouched, as if standing in a place of pure serenity.
“Amitabha, benefactor, your actions were too brutal,” the young monk intoned.
Meng Qi had never met this person before, but few young monks possessed such an aura. Smiling, he said, “Junior Master, how can one be lenient toward evildoers? Killing them all is the path to peace.”
The yellow-robed monk sighed: “Even a butcher can attain Buddhahood by laying down his blade.”
He accepted Meng Qi’s address, for he was indeed Xuan Zhen, the “Buddha Palm” master.
“Junior Master, are you here to interfere?” Meng Qi raised an eyebrow.
Xuan Zhen glanced at the women and children behind Meng Qi, then murmured, “Buddhism is self-cultivation. Though we wish to save all beings, we cannot force others. At most, we can teach the Dharma. As long as you do not commit atrocities or harm lives, I have no right to interfere.”
Meng Qi chuckled: “Among Shaolin monks, few match my temperament. You are one of them.”
“Junior, I was planning to take them through the secret passage to the Six Doors to avoid retaliation from the Beggar Sect. Since you’ve come, I’ll leave this matter to you. Shaolin has the strength to handle it.”
“Amitabha, saving a life surpasses building a seven-story pagoda,” Xuan Zhen did not refuse.
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