Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

Qin Chuan placed the spirit insect he brought from the Twelve Caves between You Chuan's eyebrows, watched it burrow into the mark and disappear, then nodded to Chi Li and turned to leave.

He had intended to linger in Raojiang for a few more days, but the matter in the northern desert could not be delayed.

Chi Meng naturally stayed behind to help her parents rebuild the Ten Thousand Poison Cave and mend this ravaged land little by little.

Several days later, deep within the Twelve Caves.

You Chuan opened his eyes amidst the warmth, the first thing he smelled was the rich aroma of meat.

On the stone bench beside him, Li Kan was enjoying a hearty meal from a ceramic bowl. Seeing that he was awake, he raised his chin and asked, "Awake? Are you still feeling alright?"

"Thank you for your help, Second Cave Master and Chief Cave Master. I am now fine."

When You Chuan stood up, his bones made a slight cracking sound. He clasped his hands in a gesture of respect, his movements less tense than usual.

"If you're going to thank someone, thank that kid Qin Chuan."

Li Kan placed the empty bowl on the stone table and let out a satisfied burp, the aroma of oil filling his mouth.

"If he hadn't spoken up, the chief of the cave might not have intervened."

"Young Marshal..."

You Chuan's Adam's apple bobbed. During those muddled days when he became the God of War, he was not in control of his own destiny, but he heard everything in the outside world clearly.

That young marshal went to great lengths to protect him.

"What are you planning to do?" Li Kan squinted at him. "Still thinking about those things you can't let go of?"

You Chuan looked down at the lines on his palm and suddenly smiled.

In that smile, there was the astringency of old wounds scabbing over, the lightness of things settling down, and above all, a relaxed sense of relief: "Some things should just start over."

With such a good man protecting him, what else could Chi Meng possibly worry about?

"No wonder Qin Chuan always says you're a shrewd man." Li Kan raised an eyebrow, pulling a wine jar from behind his back. "You've got it pretty quickly. What about the future?"

“Stay here and cultivate.” You Chuan took a deep breath, the air filled with the austere fragrance of grass and trees. “I used to always think about living for Rao Jiang and for others, but now… it’s time to live for myself for once.”

Li Kan shook the wine jar with a half-smile.

You Chuan was taken aback by the question, but then he smiled, his eyes and brows relaxing.

"Actually... I also want to have a good drink and then sleep like a log."

“Here, Qin Chuan left this.” Li Kan flicked his wrist, and the wine jar slammed down with a soft thud. “He said he’d drink with you until you’re both drunk.”

"It is You Chuan's honor to drink with the young marshal!"

You Chuan caught the wine jar steadily, broke the clay seal, and took a big gulp. The strong liquor burned his eyes, but he burst into laughter:

Meanwhile, on the edge of the Ten Thousand Mountains, the wind swept grass clippings past the horses' hooves.

Qin Chuan tilted his head back and drank the wine in the leather bag in one gulp. The wine slid down his jawline and dripped onto his dark clothes, leaving a dark stain.

He wiped his mouth, turned his horse around, and the long whip cracked through the air. The black horse neighed and its hooves thundered as it galloped toward the border between the Central Plains and the northern desert.

Chapter 115 Reorganizing the Bad Guys!

Tanzhou, one of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yanyun, guarded the throat of the Central Plains and locked the gateway to the northern desert. For three hundred years, it remained an iron wall and copper wall for the Central Plains to resist the nomadic cavalry.

On a sheltered spot in the sand dunes outside the city, four groups of people huddled around a campfire. Sparks danced wildly in the night wind, casting a warm glow on their four unfamiliar faces.

Each of them held a flag, its surface a dull yellow like old paper, embroidered with the two black characters for "bad" and the edges still bearing the rough edges of years of wear.

This is the Bad Flag. The flag bearer can command his hidden comrades in the city, and more importantly, if the Bad Leader meets with misfortune, the Bad People from all over the country can use this flag as a guide to gather at the headquarters and elect a new leader.

This rule has been ineffective for three hundred years. Yuan Tiangang has been in charge of the Bad People for three hundred years, wielding an iron fist over the world. The Bad People have changed generation after generation, but the position of commander has never been touched.

But now, the four faces illuminated by the firelight all bear the weight of this rule about to come true.

"Quinn, the Bad Guy from Taiyuan!"

"Li Mang and Fu An, members of the Cangzhou Bad People gang."

"Luo Xiaobei, the Outlaw of Luoyang."

All three eyes fell on the flag that Luo Xiaobei had unfurled. The flag was about an inch wider than usual, and the character "Luo" was embroidered in silver thread along the edge, as thin as a mosquito's leg. It was the flag-bearing symbol of Luoyang, the eastern capital.

Luoyang is a vital city in the world, and the flag bearer has always been the Tiangang Captain. However, the boy in front of him still has a childish look in his eyes and looks no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. There is still some sand on his temples.

"How could you, a mere child, be the one commanding the flag in Luoyang?" Quinn frowned, his knuckles tapping on the sand. "The flag of Luoyang has always been commanded by a captain, you..."

Luo Xiaobei's fingertips trembled as the corner of the flag swept across the dancing flames. Sparks landed on the flag but only ignited a wisp of smoke—this flag was woven from silk and iron wire, impervious to water and fire.

He hurriedly clutched the rolled-up flag tightly to his chest, his Adam's apple bobbing, his cheeks flushed red in the firelight: "The flag bearer is the young marshal, my master Duan Chengtian sent me to deliver the flag..."

His voice tightened: "This is my first time traveling so far from home, all the way to Tanzhou, only to find out I'll be meeting so many seniors..."

"Young Marshal..."

Li Mang murmured those two words, and amidst the crackling of the fire, complex emotions surfaced on the faces of the three men.

For the first time in three hundred years, the Bad Guys had to re-elect their leader, all because of the duel in the Longquan Underground Palace—the duel between Commander Yuan Tiangang and his disciple, which ultimately brought an end to the three-hundred-year-old legend.

The wind suddenly picked up, bringing with it the faint sound of horses' hooves.

It wasn't the slow pace of desert merchants, but the speed of the horses.

The sound of hooves suddenly came from miles away, the sand and gravel crunching underfoot, and in the blink of an eye they were in front of the fire.

The next instant, the green figure stood outside the firelight.

The newcomer was dressed in a blue robe, with a long sword hanging at his waist. The sharkskin scabbard gleamed coldly in the moonlight, and the tassel of the sword swayed gently in the night breeze.

Quinn and his two companions suddenly pressed their hands to the flags at their waists.

Only Luo Xiaobei suddenly jumped up, almost dropping the Luo Qi he was holding onto the sand: "Young Marshal!"

Before he could finish speaking, he hurriedly bowed, his waist bent like a drawn bow:

"Your subordinate, Luo Xiaobei, greets the Young Marshal!"

"Get up." Qin Chuan chuckled, patting his back. His gaze swept over the Luo Qi in his arms. "Brother Duan is quite comfortable letting you carry this treasure all the way."

When Luo Xiaobei looked up, his eyes shone like fallen stars: "It's all thanks to the cultivation technique passed down by the young marshal. Otherwise, how could I have reached the Middle Heaven Rank at the age of fifteen and protected this flag?"

Quinn and the other two exchanged a glance, slowly releasing their hands from the flags, but their backs remained tense.

The man in the blue robe before me is the young marshal who brought the legend of Yuan Tiangang to an end in the Longquan Underground Palace, and is now the true master of Luoqi.

"It's mainly because you're willing to work hard." Qin Chuan laughed heartily, turning his gaze to the three of them.

The three of them felt extremely uncomfortable.

According to custom, they should also pay their respects to this young marshal, but because of the disappearance of Marshal Yuan Tiangang, they simply couldn't bring themselves to do so.

"We're all brothers, no need for formalities."

Qin Chuan spoke first, his tone revealing no trace of resentment.

The three looked at each other for a moment, then bowed slightly, but none of them spoke. The silence around the fire was colder than the night wind.

Qin Chuan didn't mind. He pulled Luo Xiaobei to sit down on the ground, added some dry branches to the fire, and the sparks rose higher.

The next day, just as dawn broke, the group of five set off for the main headquarters.

The headquarters of the Bad Guys was hidden deep in the desert outside Tanzhou. The five of them trekked for half a day, until the sun was setting, before a small town emerged from the yellow sand.

The city is small, but it has everything it needs.

The inn's signboard swayed in the wind, the tavern's wooden door was half-closed, and the market was filled with jujubes and water bags, looking no different from any other border town.

Those who came and went all had gleaming eyes, walked with light steps, and had bulging waists, clearly hiding weapons—this was the territory of the Bad Guys, where the sharpest knife in three hundred years was hidden.

Several familiar faces of Qin Chuan were among the crowd: Tianjie Star Wen Tao was fiddling with an abacus, Tianqiao Star Shangguan Yunque was leaning against the door looking in the mirror, and Tianzui Star Jingxinmo was waving a folding fan, his eyes sweeping over first.

"Young Marshal, your presence is indeed a rare treat."

Jingxin Demon closed his folding fan, greeted him with a smile, and although his voice was not loud, it made the surrounding commotion pause.

The three words were like pebbles thrown into boiling oil, drawing the attention of everyone in the small town.

Respect, hostility, resentment, curiosity... all sorts of emotions intertwined, more chaotic than the wind in the desert.

Qin Chuan looked around, a relaxed smile on his face: "I've come to see my brothers."

A voice, as if sanded by sandpaper, suddenly exploded out, indescribably calm, yet carrying a chilling coldness:

"I, Jia Ren, am unworthy to be a brother of the young marshal!"

The speaker stood in the crowd; his features were blurred, like ink splashed with water, and impossible to remember.

"Jia Ren, is it?" Qin Chuan looked at him, a smile still playing on his lips. "What makes you say that?"

"You still have the nerve to ask!" Jia Ren took half a step forward, the gravel crunching on the soles of his boots. "In the Dragon Spring Underground Palace, you betrayed your master and ancestors! The Commander taught you martial arts, yet you repaid kindness with enmity, harming him!"

"First, I haven't forgotten your kindness." Qin Chuan's tone wasn't loud, but it was as clear as an icicle falling to the ground. "Before we fought, I let him have three moves. The bond between master and disciple is now settled."

The surrounding thugs immediately erupted in chaos.

In a battle between masters, a single move can determine life or death, yet he actually yielded three moves to Yuan Tiangang.

The hands gripping the flag tightened, and some people's Adam's apples bobbed—this was indeed repaying a debt of gratitude.

"Secondly, he didn't die," Qin Chuan continued, his gaze sweeping over the flags in everyone's hands. "Like Zhang Daoling of Longhu Mountain, he shattered the void and departed. In your terms, he ascended to immortality."

"Shattering the Void? Ascension?"

The crowd erupted in even greater commotion.

For three hundred years, Yuan Tiangang has been the sky above them. The fear of the sky collapsing has weighed on them for months. Now they are hearing that he has "ascended to heaven".

Someone suddenly let go, and the flag slipped half a foot from their palm, then hurriedly grabbed it back—the sky hadn't collapsed, it had just moved to a different place.

"No matter how eloquently you speak, I won't accept you as the head of the Bad Guys!" Jia Ren retorted, his neck stiff. "You're just trying to use us as pawns!"

"Using you as pawns?"

Qin Chuan laughed loudly, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world. The sound of his laughter echoed against the city wall.

"Look at you all now! The flag is still in your hands, but your courage has vanished. Where is even a trace of the fierce spirit that once allowed you to slay kings and nobles? Are you even worth my time to use?"

These words were like a whip, lashing everyone's faces. No one dared to look up; they all stared at the sand at their feet.

When they learned of Yuan Tiangang's "death," how many people had the thought that "the Bad People are finished"?