Ma Yu swallowed nervously, instinctively stepping back two paces. The person they were harshly discussing suddenly appeared, giving them quite a fright. Now, as that person slowly advanced, the firelight began to illuminate the contours of his face, which was cold and indifferent, a mixture of light and shadow, with a certain seriousness that could be described as a kind of life-and-death authority. His heartbeat and breathing seemed to follow the rhythm of the horse's hoofbeats, as if agreed upon. Horse hoofbeats, breathing, horse hoofbeats, breathing. He wanted to control it, but it was of no use. The camp seemed to generate a wind from flat ground. In Ma Yu's heart, fear gradually grew. He saw the cloak behind the person on horseback fluttering, extending into the darkness behind, like it was cloaked in the night. The sound of the horse's hooves stopped, but Ma Yu's heart became increasingly restless, and the liquor he had drunk churned in his empty stomach as if it would erupt, making him almost want to vomit, possibly even blood. In the entire camp of more than forty people, everyone had a knife at their waist, but at this moment, no one wanted to draw a knife, except for one person. Zhou Chao's eyes flickered. Because he was further away and hadn't been caught up in the previous frenzied 'celebration,' he was not affected. His right hand gripped the knife handle, the muscles in his forearm tensing, veins pulsing beneath his clothes. Forearm, upper arm, shoulder, back, heel. Strength tightened like a rope, qi mechanism flowed naturally. Like the eyes of a black scorpion locking onto the silent youth on horseback, the Horse Slaying Saber that had accompanied him for more than twenty years whined uneasily within its sheath, but its sound was suppressed amidst the heavy breathing of more than forty people, almost as faint as the chirping of spring insects. A seemingly mad, extremely bold, and adventurous thought surfaced in his mind. At this moment, killing this person could diminish the impact of this incident to the lowest by riding on everyone's recent madness. Later, he could excusably say he was worried about another bandit raid, and for everyone's lives he had to act, then lead them away. When heading to Xiong City a few days later, contact the stronghold, during this journey, merchants would no longer be in danger. This way, everyone would gradually believe that the pharmacist who died tonight was indeed a traitor for the bandits, and instead be grateful to him for his violent act for the caravan. When the time came, they wouldn't want to stay in Xiong City. And after crossing the border to the Western Regions, none of them would be able to escape. The blade lifted slightly, an inch out, but remained tightly pressed against the sheath. His blade skills were born from a horseback fighting tribe, and at that time, the faster and fiercer the blade, the better. Ferocity and speed could kill, but during his travels in the Central Plains, he learned Central Plains martial artists' technique of 'concealing the blade,' where the blade stayed in the sheath, its edges hidden, becoming even more lethal. Inside the old leather sheath was sealed with gold and iron, able to restrain the blade. His arm applied more and more force, pressure building constantly, ready to explode with much greater strength once the blade was fully unsheathed. Follow current novᴇls on NovєlFіre.net His eyes lifted slightly, taking a look. The man on horseback remained unaware. At that moment, rustling sounds came from the nearby bushes, and after a few breaths, a person stumbled out. People instinctively looked over, seeing him patting the dust off and swearing: "Damn it, this path is so hard to walk, almost fell into a pit when going to relieve myself... Damn dirty pit, one day I'll come back and fill you in!" He appeared rough, somewhat ugly, with a knife hanging from one side of his belt and a few hidden weapons stuck in the other, clanging as he moved. It was a guard who had drunk too much and went to relieve himself. Upon approaching the camp, he noticed everyone had fallen silent, causing a slight unease in his heart, then he saw the emaciated red horse. The words everyone had shouted earlier hadn't faded from his mind, the liquor's influence surged, this barely Ninth Rank External Cultivation martial artist widened his eyes angrily, thoughtlessly hurling curses: "What the hell is going on, turns out it's you, brat! How dare you have the audacity to come back?!" "Look, look, damn it, I've always thought something was off about you..." "Started as a poor pharmacist, riding a skinny horse, and as soon as Shopkeeper Sun had an accident, you've got something valuable. I'm sure of it, you're the one colluding with that bandit stronghold. Get down for me!" As he cursed, he stumbled toward the person on horseback, reaching for the Mo Blade hanging on the side of the saddle, cursing as he saw it: "Carrying a wooden knife, putting on a show, what are you pretending for?!" Originally reaching for the cloak with his right hand, it dropped to grab the Mo Blade beside the saddle. The blade's curve shone coldly under light, and he instinctively exerted full inner strength, never expecting the blade to be so light, lighter than wood. The force being too strong, the Mo Blade swiveled upwards drastically. The guard let out an 'ah' of surprise, staggering back two steps, then fell flat on his back. His sleeve just happened to swipe into the fire, and after rolling on the ground to extinguish the flames, the freshly cleaned garment now dirty and wretched once again. His heart filled with anger and frustration, almost drawing his sword to kill, he stood with the weapon, glaring angrily at Wang Anfeng on horseback, ready to strike with the blade in hand. Lifting his head, his body suddenly went stiff. He couldn't explain why, but it's as if a chill climbed up his spine, coiling around his neck, cold and chilling, rendering him speechless. The expression of the youth on the horse remained indifferent. The guard returned the knife almost involuntarily. Mo Blade returned to Wang Anfeng's hand, its invisible vigorous qi dissipated from his right hand's fingers and palm. If he hadn't used qi to pull on the knife, how could a mere Ninth Rank Martial Artist, whose physique exceeded that of ordinary people, handle the blade? Wang Anfeng hung the knife back on the saddle, dismounted, casting a glance around the onlookers, none dared to meet his gaze. For some reason, despite that the knife earlier obviously wasn't heavy, nobody dared to challenge him verbally. Wang Anfeng quietly withdrew his gaze, strode to the center by the fire, shook out his cloak, and sat cross-legged. The mutton in the copper pot bubbled, the broth boiling white. He casually grabbed a large handful of chili powder and spices from a nearby white iron jar, tossing them into the pot. The pure white broth took on a red hue, emitting a mouth-watering aroma. He immediately picked up a pair of unused chopsticks from the side, grabbed a piece of meat marbled with fat, and placed it in his mouth, chewing steadily. Ma Yu watched him, his posture straight and his shoulders broad. Clearly, he had seen him just yesterday, but now the person sitting here seemed like someone else entirely—the one sitting before the fire, eating and drinking freely. Strangely, a sense of relief arose in his heart. At this moment, a laugh came from the side. Zhou Chao loosened his grip on the knife handle, his gaze shifting away from the cold, blue blade by the saddle, feeling a bit disappointed. If it wasn't for that guard who urgently needed to relieve himself, the knife would have already struck. However, now even that guard can easily wield the Mo Blade, raising suspicion among the merchant caravan. How could the Great Wilderness Stronghold entrust such responsibility to a Martial Artist who hadn't even reached Ninth Rank? Acting rashly now would seem forced and insecure. He struggled for a moment, unwilling to give up the caravan's goods. He reluctantly suppressed his killing intent, smiled, and said: "I think, since the Pharmacist brother has returned, it shouldn't be as we feared. Think about it, who would come back after their identity has been exposed?" Ma Yu breathed a sigh of relief, as if he'd found a way out, and sat down, saying: "I, I suppose that's right..." The guard who had fallen now regained his senses, puzzled by his earlier fear, said in annoyance: "If he were really from Great Wilderness Stronghold, how could he use a paper knife lighter than wood?" "Cough, cough, Zhao guard, what nonsense are you talking about?" "We're only worried that the Pharmacist might fall into bandits' hands. The lamb soup just finished cooking, and the Pharmacist returned. It must be cold outside, quickly eat something to warm up..." The people in the caravan collectively forgot what had just occurred, smiles of relaxation and joy spreading across their faces. The young man in black sat cross-legged in the center of the fire, and everyone smiled at him as they had scolded "him" moments ago. Zhou Chao's smile appeared bold and reliable. Wang Anfeng held a porcelain bowl, his expression calm, took a sip of lamb soup, and fixed his gaze on it. He picked up a piece of meat, dipped it in sauce within the porcelain bowl, ate it, and chewed slowly, eyes focused, observing the soup, said: "I picked some antiseptic medicine along the road." "You have many wounds, would you like me to check them?" Zhou Chao's smile remained unchanged, replied: "Thank you, Pharmacist brother. I've already treated my wounds." "Besides, those bandits struck ruthlessly; merely antiseptic medicine, the potency seems insufficient." Wang Anfeng watched the boiling soup, his expression indifferent, remarked: "I think it's enough." Zhou Chao laughed heartily, said: "Pharmacist brother, you should seize the chance to learn more about pharmacology!" Ma Yu sat among the crowd, listening to the two conversing familiarly—even just verbally—it felt like a storm was coming, making it hard to breathe. The flames danced higher, the shadows of those two flickered. Wang Anfeng lowered his gaze slightly and said: "Is that so? Seems I was mistaken..." Zhou Chao laughed heartily, appearing bold. Once everyone finished eating and drinking and scattered, Zhou Chao returned to his resting place with a cold expression, his clothes drenched in sweat, gazing at a slightly distant spot. Wang Anfeng was leaning against a tree. Originally, he didn't believe the other's identity as a pharmacist, but now he did. Though he had seventeen knife wounds, they were self-inflicted; looking vicious with much blood, they merely wounded the surface. With the recovery ability of a Sixth Rank Martial Artist, even without actively triggering his Qi, they've all healed. Therefore, he refused to let others inspect his wounds, layering them with heavy medication. But the guy's earlier words revealed this supposedly flawless part?! He touched the knife, nearly unable to suppress his murderous intent. Since before he needed a scapegoat, this pharmacist had to die; now, even if no one suspects him, he must find a way to remove this unstable element. Else, trouble would eventually arise. Wang Anfeng, dressed in black, leaned against the tree trunk, quietly glancing in Zhou Chao's direction before withdrawing his gaze, resting back further, hiding within the shadows, and closing his eyes. He felt somewhat tired. PS: Today's first chapter presented... Three thousand four hundred words.