The Young Wanderers 02

The first time he heard of the Nine Cloud-Disciples of Qingyun was from a secret report delivered by the Rainmist City outpost.

Looking at the detailed report, Fang Zhiyi was somewhat stunned. The beauty-loving young maiden, the brave and martial youth—the entire report even seemed to brim with youthful fervor and passion.

"That old woman had already borrowed grain twice. This time she came begging again. The steward refused, so that group beat up the clerks and forcibly distributed the rice to the commoners. The losses were not small."

The Ghost Reaper urged Fang Zhiyi to take action and teach them a lesson. Fang Zhiyi shook his head. There were more important matters to attend to now. And these youngsters... they rather resembled his own younger self, wholeheartedly believing that the justice in their hearts and their burning passion alone could change the world.

Such people should live.

However, the actions of the Nine Cloud-Disciples indeed caused Fang Zhiyi considerable trouble. Their repeated obstructions finally stirred a killing intent within him as well.

Just as he was still pondering his countermeasures, news of the Ghost Reaper's death arrived. He had been killed by the Nine Cloud-Disciples, his spiritual energy completely drained. His corpse was hung from a tree as a public display, and his spine had been extracted whole to be fashioned into a magical artifact.

Fang Zhiyi ordered an investigation into their tracks, but then he received word from Prince Xuan. There was unusual movement in the imperial court. He had no choice but to temporarily set aside thoughts of avenging his subordinate and attend to the main business first.

Bad news arrived one after another. The cloth workshop managed by the Poisoned Embroideress was attacked. Her entire face was ruined by that poison-using maiden, and she died with her body festering, her screams lasting for three days and three nights.

Fang Zhiyi dispatched the Wine Sword Immortal. The Wine Sword Immortal could not bear to strike down these youths, but who knew the other side would have no such scruples, each move aimed to kill. Upon receiving news of the Wine Sword Immortal's death, Fang Zhiyi let out a heavy sigh.

His gaze swept over another secret report, concerning the massacre of Chaotic Stone Village. This village housed the elderly and children of soldiers who had died on the frontier. The Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion often provided relief, but recently, due to various incidents everywhere, they hadn't been able to attend to it. The villagers of Chaotic Stone Village thus came up with the idea of highway robbery. They never intended to harm lives, only to find some food. Who knew that on their very first attempt, they encountered a merchant caravan? The caravan looked down on these villagers and even beat a child. The villagers erupted in fury, scattered the caravan, and seized the grain.

The horses, carriages, gold, and silver were left untouched.

They had stirred up a great disaster. This caravan was connected to a distant nephew of the Prime Minister. Fang Zhiyi had intended to relocate them, but he was a step too late.

The Nine Cloud-Disciples, who received the plea for help, slaughtered the entire mountain bandit village clean, leaving not a single survivor.

Prince Xuan sent another message. Fang Zhiyi stared blankly at the stack of papers before him.

He had originally thought those youths were just grassroots folk wandering the martial world. He never expected each of their backgrounds to be so illustrious.

The eldest son of a great clan, the granddaughter of a first-rank official, the junior of a sect elder... What was supposed to be a good grassroots counterattack story suddenly turned into a hidden-bloodline experience of the Jianghu.

"Emperor Tianyan has received the secret report. The affair is exposed. This is my last correspondence with you. Take care."

Prince Xuan's handwriting remained vigorous and powerful. Fang Zhiyi turned the letter over. On the back was a simple map. Following the route on it, he could escape the Xuan Province.

Fang Zhiyi did not leave. He disbanded his followers, but many of them originally held deep grudges against the imperial court. Unwilling to leave, they became the first line of defense against the Nine Cloud-Disciples.

Until those nine individuals killed their way to his very front. Fang Zhiyi took a drink of wine, looked at the nine youths before him with their eyes full of "acting on Heaven's behalf," and couldn't help but laugh.

They shouted accusations that Fang Zhiyi brought calamity upon the common people and was plotting rebellion, then launched their attack.

Plotting rebellion, I admit. Bringing calamity upon the common people? Did I?

With his cultivation level, risking his life could have killed several of them. But he stared blankly for a moment at the way the youths cooperated and protected each other.

"Killing a few people, what's the point?" Fang Zhiyi suddenly withdrew, allowing a longsword to pierce through his heart. "In this world, a few lives cannot change anything..."

The youths were immersed in the joy of victory; no one listened to what he said.

Only when Fang Zhiyi fell to the ground did he remember: a subordinate had previously said that if he also died in battle, they would ignite explosives to destroy this place and perish together with the enemy.

Forget it. Let fate decide for them...

"Hmm..." Fang Zhiyi stroked his chin. "Hiss..."

Little Hei imitated his posture.

Fang Zhiyi suddenly laughed. "Starting with a full set of equipment? These conditions are too good. I was afraid you'd make me start as a waiter."

"If possible, that should still be considered."

"You shut up."

"This Prince Xuan... is no good character," Fang Zhiyi changed the subject.

Little Hei nodded. "The original host was merely a pawn in his game, meant to create chaos during his power grab. No matter what, the original host was doomed. Even the place marked on that simplified map had assassins hidden long ago, ready to silence him for good."

"Sir, the Ghost Reaper requests permission to teach those brats who don't know their place a lesson." A masked subordinate hurried in, his attitude respectful.

Fang Zhiyi glanced at him. "Relay my order. Have all the local leaders return."

"Yes... Sir?" The subordinate was somewhat bewildered.

"Go quickly."

Seeing Fang Zhiyi's expression, the subordinate promptly accepted the order and left. It was worth noting that since the founding of the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion, to avoid exposure, they had rarely gathered all together. For the master to suddenly issue such an order now, could it mean...?

In just a few short days, the originally quiet and desolate Hidden Mountain became lively.

"Embroideress, you've grown even more beautiful. How about we team up and make a life together?"

"Drink this cup of wine, and I'll consider it."

"Forget it. Everyone knows you're a master of poison. I haven't lived long enough yet."

"Ghost Reaper, I heard the grain shop under your watch got overturned by a few young punks? Hahahaha!"

"You old thing, you're not dead yet?"

"Why has the master summoned us all back? I still have many matters on hand."

"Could it be time for a major undertaking?"

"Don't guess wildly. All of you, be quiet." The man holding a gourd took a few gulps of wine, leaned back comfortably, and calmly uttered a sentence.

The noisy crowd paused for a moment, then grew boisterous again.

"Wine Sword Immortal, what gives you the right to order me?"

"Do you want to fight? Come on, my broadsword is thirsty. Let's agree first, you're not allowed to use your sword."

Only when Fang Zhiyi appeared did everyone quiet down. They all looked up at the figure on the steps.

If it weren't for him back then, the grass on their graves would be unknown heights tall—no, perhaps they wouldn't even have graves. They held genuine admiration for Fang Zhiyi in their hearts.

They also held respect for Fang Zhiyi. His ultimate goal, they did not fully understand, but some could guess. After all, everyone here was, to a greater or lesser extent, dissatisfied with the ways of the world.