34: Chapter 34 Nobody Gets Out of Here Alive

Lu Zhao crouched down and pressed his palm against the spot Shen Qingqiu had pointed out.

The ground was ice-cold, yet his palm could sense a faint, warm breath seeping up from deep within—it was the exhalation of the earth's veins, like the pulse of a sleeping giant.

But at this moment, this breath was mixed with a trace of something strange.

It was cold, chilly, like the slime left behind by a venomous snake crawling past.

"Ice True Qi." Lu Zhao slowly rose. "How long has he been here?"

Shen Qingqiu shook her head. "I don't know. But the lingering aura is still quite strong, at most two hours—which would be around the Hour of the Rat last night."

The Hour of the Rat.

That was exactly when those three Loose Cultivators snuck into the village.

A thought flashed through Lu Zhao's mind: Zhao Hanshan had been here last night, but he hadn't taken the opportunity to strike, nor had he alerted anyone.

He had simply stood in the darkness, watching, sensing, and then quietly left.

What was he waiting for?

"Sir!" Rapid footsteps came from the direction of the mountain path.

A-Fei ran over, panting, his face full of panic. "It's bad! A lot of people are coming from the mountain path! Seven or eight, no, more than ten! Some are carrying blades, some have swords, and they're sneaking this way!"

Lu Zhao's gaze hardened.

Shen Qingqiu gritted her teeth. "They came too fast."

"How much longer for the Concealment Array?" Lu Zhao asked.

"If uninterrupted, half an hour," Shen Qingqiu said. "But if someone breaks in here…"

She didn't continue.

There was no cover outside the secret cave, and when the Concealment Array was activated, the spiritual power fluctuations would be intense; any Cultivator within a few miles would be able to sense it.

That would be no different from lighting a lamp in the dead of night, telling everyone, "There is something strange here."

Lu Zhao was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke.

"You continue setting up the Formation."

Shen Qingqiu was stunned. "Then what about you?"

"I'll go block them."

"You can't block them!" Shen Qingqiu said urgently. "That's over a dozen Loose Cultivators! And Zhao Hanshan is hiding in the shadows!"

"If I can block them, I must; if I can't, I still must," Lu Zhao looked at her. "If the Formation succeeds, everyone lives. If the Formation fails, everyone dies together."

He turned and left.

After taking two steps, he suddenly stopped.

"Miss Shen."

Shen Qingqiu looked up.

Lu Zhao had his back to her, his voice very soft. "If I don't come back, help me take them… to a place where they can survive."

Shen Qingqiu opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but saw that Lu Zhao had already strode away, disappearing into the morning mist.

At the village entrance, under the old locust tree.

He Shan, Yan Meng, Han Meng, Zhong Tiegu, and others had gathered.

Twenty-three people, each holding a weapon, their expressions grave.

On the distant mountain path, shadowy figures were getting closer, and one could already make out their attire—some wore black, some grey robes, some had disheveled hair, and some wore bamboo hats.

Loose Cultivators, they were all Loose Cultivators.

"Sir." He Shan came up to meet him. "At least fifteen. I can't discern their cultivation levels, but those who dare to take this job are at least in the Qi Refinement Stage."

Lu Zhao nodded, his gaze sweeping over the group.

Twenty-three people; some were so nervous their hands gripping their blades were shaking, some were gritting their teeth to feign composure, and some were dodging his gaze, not daring to meet his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

"Are you afraid?"

No one answered.

"It's right to be afraid." Lu Zhao said. "I'm afraid too."

The group was taken aback.

Lu Zhao pointed to the black shadows drawing nearer in the distance. "Those people are here to kill me, and they are here to kill you too. They are numerous, their cultivation is high, and they kill without blinking. By all logic, we are dead."

He paused.

"But logic, that thing, sometimes isn't accurate."

He walked over to He Shan and drew the hunting blade from his waist.

The blade was not long, but it was sharpened to a keen edge, and there were several nicks on the edge—traces left from slaughtering wild beasts.

"How many wild boars has this blade killed?"

He Shan was stunned, then said: "At least twenty or thirty."

"Are wild boars fierce?"

"Fierce." He Shan said. "A crazed wild boar can gore a tiger to death."

"Then how do you kill them?"

He Shan thought for a moment. "Dig traps, set ambushes, have a group surround it, and stab its vital points."

Lu Zhao nodded and sheathed the blade back at his waist.

"Those Cultivators are more fierce than wild boars. But they have a flaw."

He looked into the distance.

"They don't believe that a group of Mortals would dare to fight them to the death."

On the mountain path, the Loose Cultivators stopped.

The leader was around forty years old, with a full, curly beard, carrying a broadsword on his back.

He squinted at the twenty-something ragged villagers at the village entrance, a smile curling the corner of his mouth.

"Just this?"

A few sneers came from behind him.

"Since when did the Xuanshuang Sect's bounty become so easy to earn?"

"Three hundred Spirit Stones, three bottles of Medicinal Pill, is that all these mud-legged peasants are worth?"

"Don't be careless." Someone said. "Three snuck in last night, and they haven't returned yet."

The bearded man snorted. "Those three pieces of trash, they deserve to die. There are fifteen of us; we could drown them with just one spit each."

He drew his broadsword and pointed the tip forward.

"Let's go! Slaughter that Lu fellow and go collect the reward!"

All fifteen moved in unison, rushing toward the village entrance.

After walking twenty paces, suddenly—"Whoosh!"

An arrow tore through the air and nailed itself three inches in front of the bearded man's feet, the tail of the arrow vibrating with a hum.

The group's footsteps halted.

At the village entrance, a young man stood under the old locust tree, hands behind his back.

He was wearing coarse cloth clothes, washed until they were faded, the cuffs frayed at the edges.

His figure was not hulking, yet he stood straight as a ramrod, like a spear thrust into the ground.

"Lu Zhao?" The bearded man narrowed his eyes.

"It is I." Lu Zhao said.

The bearded man laughed. "Good courage. Do you know who we are?"

"I know." Lu Zhao said. "You've come to kill me."

"Then you still dare to stand here?"

Lu Zhao didn't answer, only watching them.

His gaze was very calm, so calm that it made people feel hair-raisingly uneasy.

Behind the bearded man, someone whispered: "Boss, something's not right. This kid is too calm."

The bearded man had also sensed it. He stared at Lu Zhao for a moment, then suddenly asked: "Did you set an ambush?"

"No."

"Then what do you have to rely on?"

Lu Zhao reached out and pulled a wooden tablet from his bosom.

A Soul-Chasing Order.

The ghost-face totem looked twisted and ferocious in the morning light.

The bearded man's expression changed slightly. "Nether Path? Are you from the Nether Path?"

"No." Lu Zhao tucked the token back into his bosom. "But the owner of this thing was here last night. Before he left, he said one sentence to me."

"What sentence?"

Lu Zhao looked at him, saying each word clearly: "He said, whoever enters the village first, dies first."

The Loose Cultivators looked at each other.

The bearded man gritted his teeth. "Bullshit! Who are you trying to bluff?"

Lu Zhao didn't speak, only stepped aside.

Behind him, on the trunk of the old locust tree at the village entrance, seven or eight throwing darts were embedded—these were the hidden weapons shot by the thin Loose Cultivator last night.

The darts were nailed into the tree trunk, the tips deeply embedded in the wood, showing the strength of the force.

But what was even more shocking was that next to those darts, something else was pinned.

A strip of black cloth with a blurry ghost face embroidered on it.

"The mark of the Nether Path." Lu Zhao said indifferently. "He left it here. It means, he has claimed this territory."

The Loose Cultivators' expressions changed in unison.

The Nether Path was a professional assassin organization, taking money to do jobs, ruthless and cruel.

If they had really set their sights on Yangjiao Ravine, whoever entered the village first would be competing with the Nether Path for business—that was courting death.

The bearded man's face turned livid. "You… you're lying! How could people from the Nether Path help you?"

"They aren't helping me." Lu Zhao said. "They are helping this head of mine. He is afraid that someone else will kill me before him, and his bounty will be gone."

He paused. "If you don't believe it, you are welcome to try entering the village."

The bearded man stared at him, his eyes flickering.

After a long while, he gritted his teeth and said: "Retreat!"

"Boss!" Someone was unwilling.

"Retreat!" The bearded man growled. "The lunatics of the Nether Path, it's not worth competing with them!"

The fifteen people retreated resentfully, disappearing into the morning mist.

He Shan and the others breathed a sigh of relief.

Lu Zhao stood in place, unmoving, until those Loose Cultivators had completely vanished from sight, then he slowly exhaled.

Han Meng leaned over and lowered his voice: "Sir, that piece of black cloth…"

"I tore it off the assassin's corpse last night." Lu Zhao said. "It's useful to keep."

Han Meng grinned. "Your Empty Fort Strategy, it's truly brilliant!"

Lu Zhao shook his head.

"It won't stay hidden for long." He looked into the mist. "If Zhao Hanshan finds out about this, he will definitely expose it."

Just as he finished speaking, a cold laugh came from the distance.

"A good trick."

The voice was sinister, coming from all directions, making it impossible to distinguish the source.

Lu Zhao's heart tightened. "Zhao Hanshan?"

"It is I." The voice said. "This seat originally wanted to see what kind of tricks you could pull. I didn't expect you to use the Nether Path to bluff people—that's somewhat interesting."

In the mist, a figure slowly walked out.

Zhao Hanshan was still wearing that green shirt, standing with his hands behind his back, a smile playing on his lips.

But that smile was colder than it had been last night.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

"That black cloth... it was left by the assassin who died at Wild Wolf Slope last night, wasn't it?" he said unhurriedly. "That assassin was a scout from the Nether Path, ordered to scout the area. Unfortunately, his luck was poor, and he ran into this seat—"

He paused.

"This seat killed him as a matter of course and dumped the body there, thinking it would cause some trouble for those Loose Cultivators. I didn't expect you to be the one to pick up the spoils."

Lu Zhao stared at him, saying nothing.

Zhao Hanshan took a step forward.

"However, while you might bluff those wastes, you cannot bluff this seat." His gaze swept across the adobe houses in the village, finally landing on the direction of the back mountain. "The Concealment Array... it's almost complete, isn't it?"

Lu Zhao's pupils constricted slightly.

Zhao Hanshan smiled. "Don't be nervous. This seat won't stop you. Go ahead and set up your Formation, hide your people as you wish. Three days from now, this seat will return and drag you all out, one by one."

He turned and walked into the mist.

His voice drifted back from afar:

"Remember, three days. Three days later, I come to collect the corpses."

Back mountain, outside the secret cave.

Shen Qingqiu's forehead was covered in sweat as she pressed both hands against the ground. Shards of the Martial Tablet had been embedded into the nodes of the earth's veins. Streaks of earthy yellow light surged from beneath the ground, spreading along the Formation lines she had drawn and weaving into a complex web of light.

"Almost... just one more stick of incense..."

She gritted her teeth and persevered.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard behind her.

She looked back and saw Lu Zhao striding toward her.

"How is it?" he asked.

"One stick of incense," Shen Qingqiu said. "How is it outside?"

"Zhao Hanshan left," Lu Zhao said. "He said he would return in three days."

Shen Qingqiu was startled. "He... didn't strike now?"

"He is waiting," Lu Zhao said. "Waiting for us to reveal all our trump cards, waiting for more people to gather, waiting until we think we are safe before dealing a killing blow."

Shen Qingqiu was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "This man... is terrifying."

"If he weren't terrifying, he wouldn't have lived until now." Lu Zhao squatted down, looking at the spreading Formation lines. "Can the Concealment Array hide us from him?"

"It can," Shen Qingqiu said. "But only for a while. If he investigates diligently, he will discover the anomaly sooner or later. After all, this Formation only conceals; it doesn't make things non-existent."

Lu Zhao nodded.

He looked up at the distant mountain range, his gaze deep.

"Three days..."

Three days later.

At the entrance of Yangjiao Ravine, under the old locust tree, Lu Zhao stood with his hands behind his back.

Behind him, there was no one.

The adobe houses in the village had their doors and windows tightly shut, silent and still. There was not even the sound of a crowing rooster or a barking dog; the entire village seemed dead.

On the mountain path in the distance, a figure slowly approached.

Zhao Hanshan.

He still wore those same green robes, his pace neither fast nor slow. Reaching ten yards from the village entrance, he stopped, looked up at the old locust tree, then at the silent adobe houses, a faint smile curling his lips.

"Hiding?"

He stepped into the village.

When he reached the old locust tree, he suddenly stopped.

Looking down, there were faint traces on the ground—marks left after the Formation lines were activated. Although they had faded, a careful look revealed that the ground's color was slightly different.

"Concealment Array." He smiled. "Quite interesting."

He continued forward.

Reaching the door of the first house, he reached out and pushed. The door wasn't locked and opened with a gentle shove. The house was empty, the stove cold, and the bedding on the kang was neatly rolled up. Not a single person was in sight.

The second house, the third, the fourth...

Every household was empty.

Zhao Hanshan was in no hurry, looking through each house one by one, occasionally touching a kang bed or squatting to examine the floor. Reaching the back of the village, he looked up toward the back mountain.

"Hiding on the mountain?"

He stepped toward the back mountain.

Halfway up the mountain, he suddenly stopped.

Three yards ahead, behind a giant rock, a figure seemed to flicker.

Zhao Hanshan sneered. "Found you."

He strode forward and rounded the rock—

Empty.

Only a piece of tattered clothing hung on a tree branch, swaying in the wind.

Zhao Hanshan's expression changed slightly.

He turned and walked back.

Walking back to the village entrance, he suddenly discovered that the path he had come from had changed.

The familiar village path now seemed strange. The positions of the adobe houses seemed to have shifted, and the old locust tree was no longer in its original place. He clearly remembered the tree being on the left side of the village entrance, but now it was on the right.

"Labyrinth Array?" He narrowed his eyes. "Trivial tricks."

He took a deep breath, his hands forming seals as a powerful chill surged around him!

"Break!"

With a palm strike, the chill surged outward like a tide!

Boom—

The ground shook, and several Formation lines were forcibly revealed, flickering with a weak light. But after a few flickers, the lines faded back into the ground, unbroken.

Zhao Hanshan's brow furrowed slightly.

That palm strike just now, while not his full strength, should have been enough to shatter an ordinary trapping Formation. Yet this Formation remained completely unmoved.

"It has some substance," he murmured.

At that moment, a voice came from behind him.

"Immortal Zhao, I hope you have been well."

Zhao Hanshan turned around.

Lu Zhao stood under the old locust tree with his hands behind his back. He wore his coarse cloth clothes, his expression calm and his gaze steady.

Zhao Hanshan stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"You certainly have courage, actually daring to come out."

"Since the Immortal wished to see me, I naturally had to come out," Lu Zhao said.

"And the others?" Zhao Hanshan asked. "Where are they hiding?"

Lu Zhao did not answer, only looking at him.

Zhao Hanshan was in no rush, saying leisurely, "Concealment Array, Labyrinth Array, plus a Qi-Dispersing Array to mask blood and aura... your village has quite a few Formations. Unfortunately, they are all low-grade toys. They might hide you from Loose Cultivators, but not from this seat."

He took a step forward.

"This seat asks you once more: was it you who killed my Junior Brother, Wang Tong?"

Lu Zhao was silent for a moment before slowly speaking.

"Yes."

Zhao Hanshan was taken aback.

He hadn't expected Lu Zhao to admit it so readily.

"Good, good." He nodded. "Daring to take responsibility, you have some backbone. So tell me, how should this seat deal with you?"

Lu Zhao looked at him.

"How does the Immortal wish to deal with me?"

Zhao Hanshan narrowed his eyes. "Naturally, I will take your head back to the Sect to report. But before that—"

His gaze swept over the surroundings.

"This seat will first find those people and kill them one by one before your eyes."

Lu Zhao's eyes darkened slightly.

"Does the Immortal truly insist on this?"

"I must," Zhao Hanshan said. "My Junior Brother is dead; someone must be buried with him. You alone are not enough; everyone in this village will be included."

He paused.

"However, if you are willing to kneel and beg me, perhaps I can consider leaving them intact corpses."

Lu Zhao said nothing.

He just watched Zhao Hanshan quietly.

After a long while, he suddenly smiled.

Zhao Hanshan frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

Lu Zhao stopped smiling and said softly, "I am laughing because I fear the Immortal will not be able to kill anyone today."

"Oh?" Zhao Hanshan raised an eyebrow. "Based on these trashy Formations?"

"The Formations are only for delay," Lu Zhao said. "What truly wants the Immortal's life is something else."

Zhao Hanshan stared at him, suddenly feeling his heart skip a beat.

He instinctively looked back—

Behind him, two people had appeared at some point.

An old woman, her figure hunched, leaning on a cane, stood ten feet away. A middle-aged man, silent as a mountain, stood beside the old woman.

The old woman was Granny Xue.

The middle-aged man was Uncle Ya.

Zhao Hanshan's pupils constricted violently!

He hadn't sensed these two approaching at all!

"You..." He looked at Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.

"The Immortal just said he would kill them one by one before our eyes."

He paused.

"Then the Immortal might as well try and see if he can walk out of this village alive."

Zhao Hanshan stared at Granny Xue and Uncle Ya, his face changing colors several times.

Granny Xue leaned on her cane, standing there tremulously as if she might fall over from a breeze. But Zhao Hanshan sensed an indistinct aura from her—an aura that was several times denser than a normal Mortal's, yet was not a Cultivator's spiritual power.

What alarmed him even more was that middle-aged man.

That man stood there like mountain rock or forest vegetation, completely integrated with the surroundings, with not a trace of aura leaking out. But those eyes, calm as a deep pool, made his skin crawl.

"Who... who are you people?"

Uncle Ya did not answer.

He only raised his right hand and slowly clenched his fist.

The punch had not been thrown, yet the fist wind had already arrived.

Zhao Hanshan only felt a chill on his face, which was actually stinging from the force of the wind!

His face turned deathly pale as he blurted out, "Martial Dao... you are Martial Dao remnants!"