Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ambush

After Old Xie appeared, everyone present except Yang Ze wore expressions of astonishment—no one had expected Old Xie to show up at this moment. What they didn’t know was that all of this had been part of Yang Ze’s plan.

From the very beginning, Yang Ze was never one to gamble with his own life. In fact, he cherished it deeply. When he realized that Yan Min and Xue Lun had orchestrated a scheme that could bring him harm, he came as planned, but he also left word for Old Xie to follow with reinforcements. He had prepared everything in secret. With his cautious nature, Yang Ze would never expose his entire hand in front of these people—after all, he didn’t trust any of them.

Along the way, he had quietly left marks, allowing Old Xie to track him. Otherwise, in these vast and desolate mountains, finding Yang Ze would have been nearly impossible. Of course, it was only after his mastery of the Black Tiger Blade Technique had reached perfection that he dared to act so boldly; otherwise, he would not have had the courage to lead a few men to Hump Ridge.

Looking at Madam Hua’s corpse, Yang Ze bent down and searched her body. After a while, he felt a small bundle and pulled it out. Opening it, he found four small manuals—two cultivation methods and two martial arts techniques, one of them being the “Hand of a Thousand Clouds and Flowers” skill.

Yang Ze’s eyes lit up. This bundle must have contained the techniques that Madam Hua and her husband practiced. He hadn’t expected her to carry them, and now they fell into his hands.

“This trip truly wasn’t for nothing—cultivation methods, martial skills, and I’ve eliminated Yan Min as well. A complete success,” Yang Ze thought to himself, having quickly glanced at the manuals. Both cultivation methods could be trained to the high stage of Qi Induction, making them perfect for Old Xie’s current needs.

After stowing the items away, Yang Ze looked over at Zhuang.

Zhuang, who had been hiding in the corner, started shaking all over under Yang Ze’s gaze, stammering, “Steward, please spare me, please spare me!”

“How much do you know about this matter?” Yang Ze asked coldly, stepping closer.

Zhuang shook his head frantically, replying, “I don’t know anything, truly! I just came to lead the way, nothing more!”

The more he spoke, the more he trembled—a burly man quaking with fear, almost comical.

Yang Ze kept approaching. When he finally stopped in front of Zhuang, he patted his shoulder heavily.

“This time, I’ll believe you. Don’t let me down. I don’t want to see another Yan Min in the Tongyang Money House.”

Hearing that he’d been spared, Zhuang was so overwhelmed he nearly burst into tears. Glancing at Yan Min’s corpse, his face turned pale, and he swore loyalty to Yang Ze.

Yang Ze no longer concerned himself with Zhuang. He believed the man had only come to guide them, and while it wasn’t ideal for him to witness today’s events, Zhuang’s attitude had won him a reprieve.

“Let’s go. We should head back before it gets dark,” Yang Ze said after checking the sky, leading the group quickly down the mountain, returning to Yuyang City.

...

“Second Young Master, you showed no mercy to such a beautiful woman. Didn’t you feel even a hint of compassion?” On the way back, Old Xie suddenly asked.

“Compassion? Since when did you become sentimental, Old Xie? Compared to compassion, I value my own life more. Don’t be blinded by appearances—soft-heartedness never achieves great deeds,” Yang Ze replied, cracking his whip and urging his horse faster.

Old Xie laughed heartily and spurred his horse to catch up.

...

Yang Ze’s group pressed on without rest, finally reaching Yuyang City three quarters of an hour after nightfall. A dozen swift horses galloped through the south gate before slowing.

The usually lively southern city was now quiet. Street vendors had long since packed up, and most shops were closed, only a few still open with their lanterns burning.

“Second Young Master, we’re in the south city. Should we stop by home?” Old Xie asked.

Yang Ze only shook his head, saying nothing, and Old Xie didn’t press further.

He knew what Old Xie meant. Since he’d left the Yang family for the north city three months ago, he had never returned, nor did he intend to. The Tongyang Money House was now his foundation—there was no reason to go back and be scorned.

Soon, they reached the southern edge of the city. There was no direct road from the south to the north; one had to go through the east or west city. Yang Ze chose the west road, which was a quicker route to the north.

Years ago, Yuyang’s city lord had spent generously to construct several special thoroughfares for easier travel.

Perhaps because they returned so late, the west passage was eerily quiet—utterly deserted.

Yang Ze frowned slightly. He had seen empty streets before, but tonight a sense of foreboding crept over him.

“Quickly, everyone! Don’t linger here!” Yang Ze ordered, urging his horse forward at full speed, the group following suit.

Fortunately, with the street deserted so late at night, they could gallop without fear. Even as the son of the Yang family, he wouldn’t dare ride so recklessly if there were people about.

But halfway through, Yang Ze’s expression changed abruptly. He sensed murderous intent in the air. Glancing at the stone walls flanking the avenue, he saw nothing out of place.

These walls, built a full ten feet high to separate the passage from ordinary streets, would be difficult for anyone to scale.

Yet just then, it happened.

In the space of a few heartbeats after sensing danger, a voice rang out from behind the walls in the darkness.

“Loose the arrows!” With that cry, over a hundred black-clad figures appeared atop the walls on both sides, longbows drawn, arrows nocked.

As the order fell, the archers released their arrows in unison—a deadly hail raining down on Yang Ze and his party.

Though it takes long to describe, it happened in the blink of an eye. The moment that voice sounded, Yang Ze sprang into action.

Before the arrows struck, Yang Ze spurred his horse hard and leaped high into the air, vaulting off his mount. In that instant, the rain of arrows fell—his horse, abandoned, was struck and let out a pained cry before collapsing.

Drawing his blade, Yang Ze slashed furiously, deflecting arrows to protect himself.

Meanwhile, a few guards still on horseback swung their sabers to parry arrows, but most dismounted, fighting their way toward Yang Ze while defending themselves.

As for Zhuang, he had been riddled with arrows the moment the ambush began, dropping dead in an instant.

Old Xie struck out with both hands, his inner energy pushed to the limit, swatting away arrows with each blow.

“Don’t bunch together! If you cluster, you’ll just make an easier target—spread out!” Old Xie shouted.

At his command, the guards dispersed, but the archers atop the walls unleashed volley after volley, showing no intention of letting up.

“Damn it, where did all these archers come from, and how did they know to ambush us here?” Old Xie cursed. If this went on, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Xue Lun—it must be Xue Lun. I underestimated them. They were prepared, lying in wait here. If Yan Min had succeeded, this wouldn’t have been necessary, but since she failed, their backup plan came into play. Even if we’d taken the east road, there would have been an ambush there as well,” Yang Ze said grimly. Since his enemies dared to act so boldly, they must have come fully prepared. He couldn’t imagine where Xue Lun had found so many men.

He had made many enemies in his short time here—Ten Thousand Sharks Gang, Shocking Sea Gang, the Fan family, the Feng family, remnants of the Stone Rage and Broken Mountain gangs—all of them would love nothing more than to see him dead. Perhaps they had joined forces this time.

These thoughts flickered through Yang Ze’s mind, though he couldn’t be certain. In any case, he had to deal with the immediate crisis before he could investigate further.

“Drawing a bow takes great strength. With their numbers split on both sides, they can’t keep this up for long,” Old Xie called out. Yang Ze noticed several wounds already on Old Xie’s body.

He understood. Old Xie was telling him to hold on—once the archers tired, they could charge and eliminate them.

But Yang Ze saw that even before the archers faltered, their own numbers had dwindled to just ten. The rest had fallen under the storm of arrows.

A few more volleys and they would all be dead before the enemy exhausted themselves. Even Yang Ze doubted he could hold out until the end.

He could not afford to drag this out any longer. Yang Ze resolved to find a way to break the stalemate.