Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body

Her memory was gently tugged at, and a certain ball of yarn began to loosen.

Her eyes widened suddenly, a glint of light flashing in her pupils: "It's you?"

She took another big step forward, getting even closer, as if to confirm that she wasn't mistaken, to confirm that the person in front of her was the boy who had solved all the troubles with a flick of his wrist that night in the Snowstorm City.

Then she straightened up, a bright smile spreading across her face, filled with the joy and certainty of a reunion: "What a coincidence! I never expected to run into you here! I haven't seen you since that time in Snowstorm City, and I thought I'd never see you again."

Yang Jian simply hummed in agreement.

The reply was short and flat, like a pebble falling into water, splashing a little before sinking, failing to elicit any further response.

He used the rocks to stand up, brushed the bits of grass and dust off his hands, and turned to walk down the cliff on the other side.

Shui Bing'er stood there stunned for a moment, then, as if drawn by some force, she took a step and followed.

Yang Jian took a few steps, then stopped and turned to look at her, his brows furrowing slightly.

The movement was very light, as if he were a little surprised and a little puzzled: "Why are you following me?"

Shui Bing'er stopped under his gaze, somewhat embarrassed, and reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Her hair, slightly dry from the wind, still retained a hint of morning sweat, with a few strands clinging to her cheeks, which she gently brushed aside with her fingertips.

Her voice was softer than before, with a slightly embarrassed tone: "I encountered the Fallen Ones when I was out training and got to this area."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with both seriousness and expectation: "Um... you walk ahead, and I'll follow behind, keeping my distance so as not to bother you. Once we're out of this forest and into a town, I'll walk on my own and won't cause you any trouble."

She spoke very seriously, as if she were making a promise about something very important, and her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her clothes at her side.

Yang Jian looked at her for a few moments, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He turned back and continued walking downhill.

Shui Bing'er stood there stunned for a moment, then a faint smile appeared on her face, like a flower trembling slightly in the wind.

She quickly quickened her pace to catch up, keeping a distance of about three steps, following at a moderate pace.

The road down the mountain was longer and more difficult to walk than the road up the mountain.

There is a section of the road that passes through a dense forest.

The trees are tall and dense, their canopies overlapping and blocking most of the sunlight. Only a few rays of light seep through the gaps in the leaves and fall to the ground, forming shimmering golden spots, like countless small lanterns hanging in the dark dome.

The deeper you go, the darker it gets. The soil underfoot is soft and heavy, covered with a thick layer of humus and fallen leaves. It feels soft and squishy when you step on it, and most of the sound of your footsteps is absorbed.

Occasionally, a dead branch lying on the ground would be broken by footsteps, and the crisp snapping sound would carry far through the quiet forest.

When they had walked about halfway through the forest, a scream suddenly came from ahead.

The sound was heart-wrenching, as if something had been torn apart in an instant, carrying an uncontrollable fear and pain, bouncing back and forth in the woods, becoming even more piercing and dense, layer upon layer.

Shui Bing'er immediately quickened her pace, leaving behind the words "Something's happened," and ran towards the direction from which the sound came.

She moved as fast as a startled bird, her figure darting through the light and shadows in the forest, disappearing behind the trees in a few leaps and bounds, stepping on fallen leaves and tree roots.

Yang Jian's pace remained unchanged, unhurried and steady as he walked step by step.

He walked around several thick tree trunks, through a patch of low bushes, and pushed aside some vines blocking his way, until he reached the edge of a clearing in the woods.

A horse-drawn carriage lay overturned in the open space, its canopy mostly torn, revealing scattered packages and clothes inside.

One of the wheels detached from the axle and rolled a few steps away beside a bush, leaning crookedly against a tree root, its spokes covered in mud and broken leaves.

A middle-aged man was protecting a middle-aged woman and a little boy, squatting in a corner next to the carriage.

The three huddled together. The middle-aged man spread his arms to shield his wife and children, his body tense, his facial muscles stiff with fear, and sweat dripping down his forehead and down his brow bone, but he didn't bother to wipe it away.

The woman behind him held the child tightly, covering the boy's mouth with one hand to stop him from crying.

The child's eyes were wide open, his pupils filled with terror, as if he had seen something incomprehensible.

Four fallen men dressed in black stood around the carriage, each carrying a weapon—a knife, a sword, an axe, and a club—each with different designs and all showing signs of use, with small nicks and dried stains on the blades.

One of the slightly overweight fallen men, standing on the crooked carriage shaft, grinned, the tip of his knife gleaming coldly in the sunlight: "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, we brothers won't hurt you. We just want to borrow your carriage for a bit. We'll return it when we're done, and we promise to spare your lives. Just hand over your valuables, and we'll take them and leave without harming a hair on your head."

He said he wouldn't hurt anyone, but he kept twirling the knife in his hand, the blade reflecting light again and again, dazzling the eyes of the family of three.

Shui Bing'er had already rushed to the middle of the open space, nimbly blocking the family of three, and her Ice Phoenix Martial Soul reappeared.

An icy blue light surged from her body, forming a flowing membrane of light around her.

The cold air spread in all directions, and white frost began to condense on the grass and leaves on the ground. Even the air was filled with tiny ice crystals.

Her voice was cold and resolute, each word as if carved from ice: "Stop!"

The four Fallen Ones turned their heads and scanned her up and down.

The slightly chubby one clicked his tongue, his tone flippant and slick: "Oh ho, little beauty, minding your own business?"

Another chimed in, "We can manage it, but you have to come with us, and we'll release this family of three. How about that? What a great deal! One life for three lives, you'll even make a profit."

The others joined in the laughter, a low, sticky sound, as if something was slowly seeping into the air, giving everyone goosebumps.

Chapter 225 Shui Bing'er: Which way are you going next?

Shui Bing'er didn't waste any words with them.

She flashed forward and rushed straight ahead.

The icy blue light left a brief, bright trail in the dim forest, like a shooting star streaking across the night.

Her attacks were swift and direct, ice spikes flying from her fingertips towards the two nearest Fallen Ones.

The sharp icicles whistled through the air, leaving two white trails in their wake.

The two fallen ones dodged to the side.

One person used their arm armor to block the ice spike, which shattered into tiny ice fragments upon impact; another person ducked so the ice spike would fly over their head and embed itself deeply into the tree trunk behind them, where it became deeply embedded in the bark.

Shui Bing'er didn't stop. She turned sideways and rushed towards the third person, her right palm slapping towards the opponent's chest with a chilling aura.

The palm strike was fierce, and the grass blades were instantly covered with white frost in its path.

The third fallen one took two steps back and swung his long staff to block.

The stick struck the palm with a dull thud, and a thin layer of ice formed on the stick.

However, the four fallen ones were not pushovers either. They all possessed martial spirits, and various colors of light shone through the forest.

The slightly overweight Fallen One's body swelled up, and a dark brown keratin layer appeared on the surface of his skin, like he was wearing a hard shell.

The knife in his other hand glowed with a dark red light, like a piece of iron just pulled from a furnace.

The third Fallen One's long staff crackled with tiny arcs of electricity.

The fourth Fallen One circled around from the side, carrying a short axe with a murky gray-black light condensing on its blade.

The sounds of a chaotic battle erupted in the open space. The sounds of clashing weapons, exploding soul power, footsteps, and panting mingled together, creating a noisy and tense sound field, like a pot of boiling water with bubbles constantly rising from the bottom and bursting.

However, Shui Bing'er had consumed a lot of her soul power in the previous battle with the withered old man, and coupled with the fact that the opponents were numerous and well-coordinated, her movements gradually slowed down.

Each move required more time to build up power, and his footwork began to become unsteady.

In the gap after the parry, a Fallen One approached from the side and kicked her in the stomach.

The force of the boot sole was solid, carrying the aftershocks of soul energy fluctuations.

Shui Bing'er groaned and fell backward, rolling twice on the grass before stopping.

She tried to stand up by supporting herself with her hands on the ground, but the sharp pain in her abdomen made her knees bend repeatedly, as if she were struggling against her own body.

She raised her head, gritted her teeth, and stood up straight again, the icy blue light gathering in her hands once more.

However, his breathing was noticeably weaker than before, his shoulders trembled slightly, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.

The four fallen ones slowly surrounded her, like cats toying with mice.

They walked slowly, pausing after every step, as if enjoying the process of their prey's exhaustion and futile struggle; their slow gait revealed a resolute cruelty.

The slightly chubby, degenerate man tilted his head and looked at her with a playful smile: "Little beauty, out of energy now? Weren't you pretty good just now? Show us your ice and snow again, don't stop."

Shui Bing'er's gaze swept across the edge of the open space and she saw Yang Jian slowly walking over.

Like a drowning person seeing a rope reaching out from the shore in deep water, she cried out to him, "Help me!"

She didn't know why she was so certain he would make a move, but her intuition told her he would.

The figure sitting on the edge of the cliff and the figure walking towards us now are the same person.

The four Fallen Ones followed her gaze and then burst into laughter as if they had discovered something amusing.

The slightly chubby guy gestured towards Yang Jian with his chin, his tone full of disdain and mockery: "That pretty boy? He didn't even dare to come over just now, he stood on the sidelines watching the show. You expect him to save you? We brothers could crush him with one finger. You're giving him way too much credit."

Another chuckled, "If you know what's good for you, get lost. We don't have time for you. This little chick looks pretty good; we're in for a good night..."

He didn't finish speaking.

Because Yang Jian made a move.

His figure cast a pale shadow in the dim forest clearing, the distance from the edge of the clearing to the Fallen One as if a section had been cut off with scissors.

One moment they were just a few steps away, the next they were standing right in front of each other.

As his right fist rose and fell, the slightly overweight Fallen's body collapsed as if his skeleton had been removed.

As he fell, the corner of his mouth still held the curve of his voice from when he spoke. He didn't make any extra sound, not even a muffled groan, before he breathed his last.

The second, the third, the fourth.

Yang Jian's movements were devoid of any unnecessary frills. With alternating punches and palm strikes, the four bodies completed the entire process of going from standing to falling down, like four trees that were felled at the same time, lying crookedly on the grass in the forest.

Four corpses lay there, the swirling fallen leaves and dust not yet fully settled.

The air still held faint, lingering vibrations from the forced interruption of soul power, like a plucked string slowly calming down.

The open space fell silent.

The family of three knelt on the ground, their heads hitting the mud with a loud thud.

Words of gratitude poured out like a machine gun, a mixture of thanks, relief, and lingering fear. The husband repeatedly said "Great benefactor," while the wife, still holding the child, wept. The child finally cried out, the sobs broken and strained, as if squeezed from deep within the throat.

Yang Jian stood still, looking at the kneeling people, his expression unchanged.

The words of gratitude fell into his ears one by one, and then flowed away from the other side, like water sliding across a stone, leaving no trace.

He turned and walked out of the forest.