I want to tread the heavens

Riding atop a wind-riding beast, his body swayed gently with the animal's gait. Days of trekking, exposed to wind and sun, had left his lips chapped and his face covered in an indelible layer of dust. Only his eyes, under the shadow of his straw hat, remained calm and sharp, scanning the area ahead and to the sides. Fa Cai lay on the back of another wind-riding beast, his ears drooping, looking somewhat tired, but his nose and ears remained alert. The two wind-riding beasts panted heavily, their pace slowing; the fodder and water they carried were almost gone.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows of people and animals. They were crossing a relatively open valley, flanked by low hills covered with drought-resistant, thorny shrubs. The wind whipped up sand and gravel, stinging their faces slightly.

Just as they were about to leave the valley, Fa Cai suddenly raised his head, his ears perked up, and a very low, suppressed whimper escaped his throat. "Ahead... there's blood... a lot of people... fighting."

He frowned. Bandits plundered caravans, double-crossed them, or simply committed vendettas. Meddling in other people's business often meant trouble, especially since he was currently in poor condition and accompanied by two precious Wind Beasts.

"Go around it," Ling Xiao whispered, pulling on the reins to prepare to bypass the valley via a gentler slope on the side. Fa Cai also stood up, his silver eyes warily looking in the direction from which the voice came.

However, just as they turned around and took a few steps, the wind carried a clearer, more piercing cry, mixed with an old, hoarse plea for mercy and a young, shrill cry:

"Grandpa! Grandpa! Don't kill my grandpa! You can have everything! Please!"

"Get out of my way, you brat! You old fool, you've been hiding this well! Tell me, where are the remaining spirit stones and that 'Dewdrop Grass'? If you don't tell me, I'll kill this little bastard first!"

This was followed by the dull thud of a heavy object striking flesh, the old man's suppressed groans of pain, and the child's even more heart-wrenching cries.

Ling Xiao's knuckles turned slightly white as he gripped the reins. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Uncle Rong's face, Guo Xiaohu's tear-streaked face, the smoke rising from the old earthen courtyard... a series of images flashed uncontrollably through his mind. He remembered Uncle Rong's unspoken but unspoken words when he left: "Live, but don't live in a way that you can't even respect yourself."

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath, unsure whether he was cursing the bandits or himself for his damned, still-uncleaned mind.

He snapped his eyes open, the hesitation in them replaced by a cold, sharp glint. "Fa Cai, watch the beasts, don't let them run off. I'll go check it out. If things aren't looking good, you take the beasts and go ahead, wait for me behind that mound up ahead."

Fa Cai growled in disapproval, but nodded nonetheless, his silver eyes fixed on the depths of the valley. "Quick. Stinky. Seven, four weak ones, three will be a bit troublesome."

Ling Xiao leaped off the back of the Wind Beast, landing silently. He pulled his straw hat down low, unwrapped the broken sword from his back, and gripped it in his hand. Instead of rushing forward immediately, he moved like a shadow, using the mounds and bushes for cover, silently and rapidly approaching the source of the sound.

Soon, he saw the view at the other end of the valley.

Three wooden carts, pulled by oxen-like but larger pack animals, lay overturned by the roadside, their cargo scattered on the ground—mostly sacks, leather goods, and rough pottery jars of little value. Beside the carts lay five or six corpses, dressed in uniform grey coarse cloth short-sleeved shirts—the guards. Only an old man and a young boy remained alive, surrounded by seven or eight slovenly-dressed, fierce-looking bandits.

The old man, around fifty or sixty years old, with gray hair and a fresh gash on his face, was desperately shielding a seven or eight-year-old boy who was trembling with fear behind him. The old man emanated a faint spiritual energy, suggesting he was at the third or fourth level of Qi Refining, but his aura was weak, clearly indicating he was injured. The child, on the other hand, had no cultivation whatsoever.

The bandits surrounding them had varying levels of cultivation. Four of them, only at the second or third level of Qi Refining, brandished swords and knives, shouting encouragement and kicking at the scattered goods. The real threat came from the three in the middle: a one-eyed giant at the sixth level of Qi Refining, wielding a blood-stained ghost-headed saber; a tall, thin man at the fifth level of Qi Refining, wielding a pair of water-splitting daggers, his eyes sinister; and a short, stout man, also at the fifth level of Qi Refining, carrying a spiked bronze staff, which he was using to poke the old man's chest, interrogating him about something.

"Old man, you won't listen to reason, you'll have to suffer the consequences! If you don't hand over the 'Dewdrop Grass,' I'll break your grandson's legs first!" The short, fat man grinned maliciously, raising his copper rod as if to smash it down on the little boy's knee. The child was so frightened that he forgot to cry, only clinging tightly to his grandfather's clothes, his little face pale.

"No! I'll talk! I'll talk! The grass is in my arms! The spirit stones... those are all the spirit stones I have!" the old man screamed in despair, his hands trembling as he reached into his arms.

"That's more like it!" The short, fat man grinned smugly and reached out to grab it.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the old man's clothes—

A dark red blade of light suddenly erupted from the shadow of a mound behind him, without warning! There were no shouts of killing, no bursts of spiritual energy, only speed, accuracy, and ruthlessness! The blade's target was not the short, fat man himself, but his right wrist, which was slightly relaxed due to his smugness as he gripped the bronze staff!

The short, fat man was, after all, at the fifth level of Qi Refining. His alertness in the face of life and death made his hair stand on end. He let out a strange cry and subconsciously pulled the copper staff back while desperately turning to the side.

"laugh!"

The blade grazed his wrist, leaving a trail of blood and half a little finger! The copper rod clattered to the ground.

"Who goes there?!" The one-eyed giant and the tall, thin man were both shocked and furious. They turned around at the same time, pointing their ghost-headed saber and water-splitting dagger at the source of the flash.

Ling Xiao's figure had already pounced out of the shadows. He completely ignored the fallen copper rod and the screaming fat man. His feet shifted strangely, like a fish swishing its tail, and he instantly cut to the side of the tall, thin man who had been momentarily stunned by his companion's injury! The broken blade slashed upwards with a vicious and swift backhand, aiming straight for the tall, thin man's armpit where he was holding the dagger! That was where his protective spiritual energy was relatively weak, and it was also the key to the arm's strength.

The tall, thin man was terrified. He let out a strange scream, crossed his twin daggers and pressed down to block, while desperately leaping backward.

"clang!"

The broken blade clashed with the splitting dagger, sparks flying. Ling Xiao's wrist jerked, his tiger's mouth went numb, but the tall, thin man was in even worse shape. He felt a strange, tricky force penetrate him, making his arms numb, his blood churn, and causing him to stagger backward, his defenses wide open.

"You've got guts! Charge together!" the one-eyed giant roared, his ghost-headed saber whistling through the air as he slashed at Ling Xiao's waist, attempting a diversionary tactic. He noticed Ling Xiao's unpredictable movements and cunning swordsmanship, but his spiritual energy fluctuations didn't seem particularly strong (Ling Xiao was deliberately suppressing them), so he wanted to win through brute force and numbers.

The other four bandits, who were at the early stage of Qi Refining, also reacted. Although they were timid, they mustered their courage under the leader's shouts and brandished their swords to flank from both sides.