Chapter Sixty-Two: Courting a Beauty

The group halted, following Mu Yi’s gaze. Not far ahead, beneath a tree to the right, a figure lay motionless, bloodied from head to toe. Xiao Ding and the others hurried over, quickening their steps. They found the body lying in a pool of blood, long since dead. Multiple wounds marred him, the most serious a knife wound in his back, the blade driven in through his lower back and deep into his abdomen.

Fan Sanpang nudged the corpse with his foot, turning the face upward. The moment he saw it clearly, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Isn’t this Deng Yanwan, known as the ‘First Divine Leg of Jizhou’ from Zhu Fen’s team?” Fan Sanpang recognized the dead man.

Xiao Ding glanced down at the face smeared in blood and dirt, the eyes wide open in death, unwilling to close. So this was Deng Yanwan, the Divine Leg—indeed, his leg stretched, his eyes stared, and he was finished. Perhaps that title of Jizhou’s First Divine Leg was somewhat exaggerated.

In truth, Xiao Ding hadn’t considered that if Deng Yanwan were truly a martial arts master, he would hardly be mingling with these wandering vagabonds for excitement.

“I wonder how Zhu Fen and the rest are now,” Fan Sanpang muttered. He had known Zhu Fen, Jin Million, and the others from Yongzhou City for years. While none were particularly close, they were all at least acquaintances.

“Let’s keep moving…” Xiao Ding sighed, thinking how unpredictable fate could be. That very morning, they had been chatting idly at the foot of the mountain; now, one was a corpse. Everyone knew the mountain was fraught with peril, yet so many still risked life and limb to venture inside…

The four pressed on for more than half an hour, discovering over a dozen more bodies along the way.

Among them, Fan Sanpang recognized one in a gray robe now stained red—Bai Zheteng. Judging by the scene, Bai Zheteng had fought fiercely before dying of his wounds. This time, Bai Zheteng’s name was a cruel irony: his endless struggles had finally come to an end…

The rest of the corpses likely belonged to Bai Zheteng’s group, though it was unclear if anyone from his team had survived. One thing was common to all these grim scenes: the victims’ packs and valuables were missing without a trace.

Xiao Ding couldn’t help but recall what Mei Ruoxue had told him about Guo Bighead’s group—could the same people be responsible here?

If that was the case, was there some nefarious plot at work?

Having read too many novels and watched too many dramas, Xiao Ding’s mind instinctively wandered down these paths. Could someone have deliberately spread rumors about a divine artifact on Luoxia Mountain, luring martial artists to seek treasure, only to ambush, kill, and rob them?

It was entirely possible.

A chill ran down Xiao Ding’s spine at the thought. The world of the martial fraternity was indeed treacherous! Thankfully, he himself was not one of them and had no intention of being drawn into their strife. Whoever was behind this plot, it had nothing to do with him. All he needed to do was find Mei Ruoshuang and bring her safely home—that alone would be enough.

Continuing onward, they found more corpses along the way: some wandering swordsmen, others from minor sects. Notably, none belonged to Jin Million, Universal Remedy, or Zhu Fen.

With dusk approaching, Xiao Ding suggested they find a safe place to rest. Conveniently, a massive boulder lay not far ahead, tall and imposing. The four settled beneath it for the night.

With Fan Sanpang present, dinner, while not lavish, was delicious enough. All four had practiced martial arts; even Xiao Ding could hunt wild chicken or rabbit with a stone. Such skills came even more easily to the others.

Having rested early, they finished dinner before darkness fell and gathered around the campfire to chat. Most of the time, Xiao Ding and Mu Yi listened as Fan Sanpang recounted tales of the martial world, while Mu Hong preferred to sit quietly with his eyes closed.

When night descended, Xiao Ding proposed they take turns keeping watch: Mu Yi and Xiao Ding on the first shift, Fan Sanpang and Mu Hong on the second. This arrangement was made out of consideration—Xiao Ding knew Mu Yi was a woman, and Mu Hong was older. He assigned them the easier shifts at the start and end of the night, while he and Fan Sanpang took the more arduous middle hours.

With four people, each would stand watch for a little over an hour, enough to last till dawn.

After Fan Sanpang and Mu Hong lay down, Xiao Ding didn’t immediately go to sleep. His shift was second; if he slept, he’d barely have an hour before having to rise again. He decided to simply stay awake for the first half of the night.

Why not try striking up a conversation with the lovely Miss Mu, he thought.

“Miss Mu, if you’re tired, go ahead and sleep. I’ll take the first half of the watch for you,” Xiao Ding said to Mu Yi, who was sitting by the fire.

Mu Yi started slightly, and softly asked, “You’ve noticed I’m a woman in disguise?”

Xiao Ding smiled and nodded, saying nothing.

“How did you tell?” Mu Yi looked him over, curiosity in her eyes.

“It’s not difficult,” Xiao Ding replied. “After all, men and women differ in many ways—not just in build and appearance, but in mannerisms, expressions, and demeanor. If you pay attention, it’s easy to notice.”

“Hm… that makes sense.” Mu Yi nodded in understanding.

“Not only did I see that you’re a woman, but I also know Mu Yi isn’t your real name,” Xiao Ding said slyly, looking at her.

“My real name is Mu Yiyi. You’re quite observant!” Mu Yi lifted her eyes to meet his, secretly admiring his powers of perception.

“I’m Tian Xiaoding. Everyone calls me Xiao Ding. My nickname is Tian Fool…” Xiao Ding repeated his usual self-introduction.

“I know your name—Fan Sanpang introduced you this morning,” Mu Yiyi replied, then laughed lightly. “I just didn’t know you were called Tian Fool…”

Actually, Xiao Ding himself hadn’t known about the nickname “Tian Fool” until recently…

“From your accent, Miss Mu, you don’t sound like you’re from Yongzhou. Where are you from?” Xiao Ding asked casually.

“My ancestors are said to be from Yongzhou, but for various reasons, they moved to Jingzhou. My uncle Mu and I are from Misty Cloud Mountain in Jingzhou. If you ever have the chance, you’re welcome to visit us there…” As she spoke of Misty Cloud Mountain, Mu Yiyi’s face lit up with excitement. It was clear she loved her home dearly.

“My home is in Luoxia Village, five miles east of Luoxia Mountain, the first and shabbiest house on the west side—that’s mine. When you come down the mountain, you’re welcome to visit too,” Xiao Ding said with self-deprecating humor.

“So close? Then did you hear early on about the divine artifact appearing on Luoxia Mountain?” Mu Yiyi asked, eyes wide.

“No. I’m not part of the martial world. I’m just an ordinary villager. I didn’t come to Luoxia Mountain for treasure…” Xiao Ding replied.

“Then why did you come?” Mu Yiyi asked.

“I’m looking for a friend—her name is Mei Ruoshuang. She may already be in danger…” Xiao Ding answered aloud, though inwardly he worried, Mei Ruoshuang, where are you now…