Chapter Sixteen: The Chaotic Rescue Team (Part One)

Chaotic Rescue Team (Part One)

Wu Hong gazed at the frenzied crowd, thinking to himself, "Am I truly a good person or a bad one? In all the months since I arrived in Yellow Cloud Town, I've never been so adored by the people. Who would have imagined that today the entire city would welcome me—ha!" A sudden sense of emptiness washed over him. He did not hate the numbness of common folk, nor did he resent the silver-armored general, not even Lady Zhao, who had ceaselessly sought his demise. For a moment, even his hatred seemed to lose its weight.

The puzzle that had always haunted him was why Lady Zhao, who treated him like her own son since childhood, would one day turn against him so cruelly. Was it a matter of family inheritance? Wu Hong shook his head in self-mockery. "In the Grand Qian Dynasty, the inheritance of family estates or noble titles is never determined by seniority, but entirely by ability. At the time, Lady Zhao's son, Hong Lie—second son of the Marquis Wu Wei—had joined the army from a young age, earned resounding military achievements, and possessed peerless martial arts. I, on the other hand, was nothing but an idle scion, hardly a threat to Hong Lie's future status."

If the motive was family succession, it clearly did not add up. So why did Lady Zhao wish him harm? This question became his drive to grow stronger, the goal he sought to unravel.

"Kill the villain!" The townsfolk seemed possessed, as if Wu Hong had always been the scourge of Yellow Cloud Town, hurling every manner of trash and debris at him.

The silver-armored general was exceedingly pleased with himself, highly satisfied with his own arrangements. His antipathy toward Wu Hong stemmed from two sources: firstly, Wu Hong was a prisoner yet carried himself with such pride; secondly, envy—born into poverty, the general had clawed his way up through military service and earned many honors, but his low status meant he was never truly recognized by his superiors. After more than a decade, he was only the head warden of a major county, while Wu Hong, born a noble, was a wastrel who once wielded power in the capital. Why should Wu Hong have such privilege? Even now, as a prisoner, Wu Hong remained arrogantly aloof. The general’s heart could not accept it—his anger simmered unchecked.

Wu Hong watched the rabid crowd from his prison carriage with cold indifference. Suddenly, a familiar figure caught his eye, but for a moment he could not recall who it was. She was a young girl, her eyes pure and clear, and unlike everyone else, she did not throw any garbage at him.

The girl wore a silk-blue dress, her presence strikingly familiar, yet Wu Hong simply could not remember her name. Tears rimmed her eyes as she looked at him.

Wu Hong smiled gently at her. The prison carriage sped along, and as she saw his smile, she wiped away her tears and vanished into the crowd.

The carriage passed through the clamorous streets of Yellow Cloud Town and onto a quiet road outside the city.

"Everyone, stay alert!" the silver-helmeted general shouted, his voice so loud that hundreds of subordinates heard him clearly—he was evidently a masterful leader.

The convoy traveled through midday without incident, eventually arriving before a range of mountains. Ahead were towering peaks and steep cliffs. Between two mountains, a single narrow road served as the only passage through the range.

The general frowned at the sight of the treacherous mountains. "Go scout ahead," he ordered.

A soldier rode forward, his horse’s hooves echoing through the mountain pass.

They could not afford to be careless—such rugged roads were often the haunt of bandits. Although they were regular troops, they still wished to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Soon, the scout returned at a gallop. "General, aside from the treacherous road ahead, there’s nothing unusual!"

The general trusted this subordinate; when he joined the army, this confidant had always been by his side.

"Move out! Everyone, be careful," the general commanded, and the convoy pressed on.

Wu Hong watched with amusement. Despite his special status, he had few friends, and Lady Zhao was indeed cautious—afraid something might go wrong as she brought him back.

As the group moved between the two great peaks, a sudden gale whipped up. Pebbles rolled underfoot, and since the convoy was right at the wind’s mouth, the roaring wind echoed like the wailing of ghosts.

Everyone instantly became alert, clearly well-trained regular soldiers.

Over a hundred men formed a tight circle around Wu Hong’s prison carriage, ready for battle.

Thunderous hoofbeats echoed from deep within the valley, reverberating like thunder. Soon, several hundred men appeared, each mounted, wielding great blades, fierce and wild.

These newcomers were savage, their demeanor betraying years spent living by the sword. Their leader was a burly brute—bare-chested, his chest thickly furred, eyes bulging, beard bristling, wielding a massive blade, leading hundreds as they galloped to a halt before the soldiers.

"This road was made by me, this tree was planted by me. If you want to pass, pay the toll!" the leader bellowed, full of confidence, clearly a martial artist.

"Ha—mere clowns, you dare to waylay a prisoner of the imperial court?" The general rode forward a few paces, speaking coldly.

"I don’t care who you are—escorting a high-value imperial prisoner? If you have no money, you can all go to hell! Brothers, attack!"

The bandit leader saw the burly general stride forth from the soldiers but showed no fear. At his command, his followers charged headlong at the troops.

The general’s face darkened. He’d hoped his party’s identity would give ordinary bandits pause, but instead it only enraged them.

In a flash, the leader rushed at a soldier, and with a swing of his blade—blood sprayed and a head soared skyward before crashing to the ground.

"Kill them all—slaughter the imperial dogs and seize their wealth!" The bandits, mad with bloodlust, clashed instantly with the soldiers.

The sudden onslaught threw the convoy into disarray, but these soldiers were battle-hardened and disciplined; soon they regrouped and formed ranks to meet the enemy.

The bandit leader’s blade crashed down—metal rang as the general blocked the blow, the clash so loud it hurt the ears.

The leader felt his palm split from the force—panicked, he realized this handsome general was no pushover.

The general, seeing the leader’s hand split open from a single block, surged with confidence.

He thrust his spear rapidly—dozens of attacks so fast the eye could barely follow, the weapon’s shadow weaving through the air like a silver dragon.

The bandit leader barely parried a few strikes, his arm numb, and saw the general’s body shrouded in silver light—clearly a master of the Blood Refining realm, perhaps even higher.

The soldiers, once regrouped, struck with deadly precision—heads flew, blood spread, the wind carried the scent of carnage.

"Retreat!" The bandit leader, eyes bloodshot, shouted, and the bandits, unnerved by the soldiers, turned their horses and fled, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

The soldiers did not pursue without orders from the general, a testament to their training.

"Everyone—stay alert, there may be more ambushes in the valley!" The general frowned; these bandits were strange—most bandits sought riches, but these attacked without warning.

He glanced at Wu Hong. "Young Master Wu, I didn’t expect your year on the run would acquaint you with so many bandits."

"Ha—what a shame, with all your martial skill, you’re still a lackey for Lady Zhao. You’ll never rise above your station," Wu Hong replied, sidestepping the question.

He truly had no idea who these mysterious bandits were. Judging by their actions, they seemed intent on rescuing him—during the brief skirmish, many had eyed his prison carriage, clearly intent on freeing him.

The general saw Wu Hong’s continued disrespect and could do nothing—he was ordered to deliver Wu Hong alive and dared not harm him.

He looked at the dark valley, hesitated briefly, then ordered, "Move out!"

The general gambled—if these bandits were after loot, his party was in real danger. The cliffs on either side were perilous; if the bandits rolled stones or logs from above, no matter how skilled or quick his men, they would be doomed.

But he gambled that the bandits’ target was Wu Hong. If so, they would not risk killing him by launching an attack from the heights.

The general was experienced in warfare—his gamble paid off. The convoy passed safely through the valley.

Meanwhile, in a hidden spot atop the mountains, "How useless are you? Over two hundred men couldn’t defeat a handful of soldiers. What boasts did you make to me before?"

A masked woman addressed the bandits around her.

"Boss, we really tried! These soldiers are no ordinary men—all of them are highly skilled!" replied the bandit leader who had fought the general earlier.

"Hmph—let them pass for now, but keep watch from the shadows. The moment you see an opening, rescue the prisoner in the carriage!"

The female bandit leader spoke coldly.

The bandits shivered involuntarily, clearly terrified of her for reasons unknown.

Without further argument, the bandit leader led his men down the mountain, stealthily trailing Wu Hong’s party.