119: Chapter 119 Roadmap

The villagers were immediately thrown into a panic; this world already made it impossible for them to survive, and now they were being plundered like this.

The village chief's wife squeezed forward and fell to her knees with a thud: "My lords, my lords, have mercy! We just paid our annual tribute to Marshal Zhang, who occupies this area. There really isn't much grain left in our homes... Could you take less dry rations? Please, leave us a path to survive!"

"Slap!"

The burly man with flesh-padded features slapped her across the face, knocking her sideways to the ground as blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

"Stop haggling with me!" He spat. "Otherwise, we'll do the plundering ourselves and burn everything down, people and houses alike. Believe it?"

The villagers were silent as cicadas in late autumn; several children were so scared they hid behind their parents, while A-He gripped her mother's hem tightly, trembling all over.

The man scanned the crowd, his gaze falling upon several young women who were somewhat attractive, a lecherous glint rising in his eyes.

"The rest of you, scatter." He raised a hand and pointed. "These ones, stay."

Several deserters behind him stepped forward with lewd laughter, reaching out to grab the women.

The women screamed and cried, and the children rushed forward to pull at them. One half-grown child hugged a deserter's leg but was kicked away viciously, rolling into the mud.

Just then, you walked out of the house, carrying your sword.

The deserters noticed the movement and turned their heads in unison.

The burly man sized you up. Your face was currently altered by the Thousand-Face Faceless Art, appearing plain and dull. At first, there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, but as his gaze dropped and swept over your full chest, that lecherous look emerged once again.

"Yo, another one." He grinned, his tongue licking his cracked lips. "Little lady, if you're sensible, put down that blade and come with me..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

You were already standing in front of him.

You crossed the distance of seven or eight steps without a sound. The burly man's pupils shrank suddenly, and that flippant remark stuck in his throat, transforming into a distorted cry of shock: "You—"

A flash of sword light.

His words and his head flew off together.

Blood gushed out; the headless corpse swayed twice before falling to the ground with a thud.

The scene was deathly silent.

The remaining deserters froze in place, their faces still wearing the ferocious smiles from just a moment ago, though their eyes were already bulging.

"Mon, monster—"

A deserter's legs went weak, and he turned to run.

You tapped your toes, your figure turning into an afterimage.

"Pfft."

A sword pierced through his back.

You drew your sword, turned, and swept it horizontally. The movements were like flowing water, without a shred of hesitation. Wherever the sword light passed, two more fell, long bloody gashes splitting their chests.

The last two were Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering; they even forgot to unsheathe their blades, collapsing on the ground and retreating backward: "Spare us... spare us! We were just press-ganged soldiers... we were forced..."

"Forced." You looked down at them from above, your voice very soft. "And what about them?"

You raised your sword and pointed at the village women who were still trembling.

The two were speechless.

"Murder was forced, plundering grain was forced, and violating women was also forced?" You shook your head. "In chaotic times, whoever holds the blade dares to say such things."

The sword fell.

Two heads rolled into the dust.

On the threshing floor, seven or eight corpses lay strewn about, blood soaking into the yellow earth.

You sheathed your sword, flicked the blood droplets off the blade, and turned around.

The villagers were stunned, and it took a long while for them to react. The village chief's wife covered her swollen face, tears streaming from her eyes, and she fell to her knees again with a thud.

"Benefactor! You are our benefactor!"

The other villagers also knelt down, kowtowing like pounding garlic. The women who had almost been abducted sobbed uncontrollably, and the children hid behind the adults, timidly peeking out to look at you.

A-He broke free from her mother's hand, stumbled over, and hugged your leg.

"Auntie... Auntie, you're so amazing..." The little girl tilted her face up, her eyes full of tears. "Are you a Bodhisattva in disguise?"

You crouched down, patted her head, and pulled out the last few candies from your bosom, stuffing them all into her palm.

"Not a Bodhisattva." You smiled. "Just someone passing by."

You stood up and said to the village chief: "Drag the corpses to the back mountain to bury them. Leave their horses and weapons; they can be traded for some grain. In the future, if people like this come again, run if you can. Don't try to fight them head-on."

The village chief nodded repeatedly, his eyes brimming with tears: "Benefactor, we will remember your great kindness for the rest of our lives..."

The next morning, before dawn.

You placed a silver ingot on the bedside, left half a bag of sugar, silently strapped the Puppet to your back, and pushed the door open to leave.

You didn't disturb anyone.

For the rest of the journey, you stopped looking for lodging. Occasionally, when passing through towns, you would only buy some dry rations and water before leaving immediately.

You were afraid you wouldn't be able to help yourself from intervening again.

You couldn't manage all the evil in this world, nor should you. Your path lay on the other side of the Ten Thousand Mountains.

Just like that, another three months passed, and you traveled through the entire Great Yue.

After traveling for another half a year, you finally arrived at the last kingdom before the Ten Thousand Mountains: Great Tang.

This was a massive kingdom with dozens of Earthly Immortals. Its national power was flourishing, far beyond what Great Qing or Great Yue could compare to.

You stayed in the capital of Great Tang for a few days, inquiring about news everywhere.

Upon inquiring, you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Many high-ranking officials and nobles in the court knew that crossing the Ten Thousand Mountains led to the Cultivation World.

Master Qingling had not deceived you; this path was real.

You also heard that more than twenty years ago, an Immortal Cultivator had come to Great Tang and selected a group of youths with Spiritual Roots from the populace, taking them to the other side of the mountain. However, no Immortal Cultivator had come in the last decade or so.

The news was confirmed. Your heart settled, and you began to look for a relatively safe route to cross the Ten Thousand Mountains.

After some inquiries, you actually found a lead. There was a powerful noble in the city whose ancestor had returned to Great Tang from the Cultivation World and left behind a map for crossing the mountains.

That night, the moon was dark and the wind was high.

You climbed over the wall and snuck into the noble's residence, heading straight for the main courtyard.

The middle-aged man in the room was startled awake. Seeing your silhouette by the moonlight, he was stunned at first, then shouted fiercely: "Where did this thief woman come from! Do you know whose residence this is? Believe it or not, if I shout, I'll have you shot into a sieve with arrows!"

You raised your hand, a wisp of Yuan power condensing into a thin thread. With a "shh" sound, you sliced the copper lamp by his bedside, stand and all, into two pieces.

The man's words came to an abrupt halt. "Blue True Qi? An Earthly Immortal!"

"The map." You said indifferently. "The one your ancestor brought back from the Cultivation World."

"You, how did you know..." His voice was trembling.

"Take it out."

Cold sweat instantly broke out on the man's forehead. He no longer dared to put on airs, scrambling to retrieve a wooden box from a hidden compartment and offering it with both hands: "It's, it's here... Spare me, Heroine. Please, just copy it. I have elderly parents and young children to support..."

You opened the wooden box, took out the yellowed sheepskin map, and examined it carefully by the moonlight from outside the window.

The terrain of the mountains and rivers, the markers for passes—every stroke was clearly discernible.

You took out paper and brush and, by the moonlight, copied it line by line and character by character.

After finishing the copy, you placed the copy back into the box and rolled up the original, tucking it into your bosom.