Chapter 122: Chaos

"Master, let me go with you!" Xiao Zhan stood up immediately to request his participation.

"Yes, Master, let us go together. There is safety in numbers," Zhao Shanhe said, draining his bowl of wine in one gulp.

The registered disciples below also clamored to join the fight in Fuzhou.

"Quiet. This time, only Old Six and I will go. No one else is coming." Zhao Qing looked at his eldest disciple. "Eldest, you stay to guard the house. Third and Fifth, hold your respective territories."

Zhao Qing stated the decision he had reached with Ling Chi, and the room fell silent.

"This encirclement of the He family is full of variables. Even Commander Sun of the Gold Badge Guard is going in person to hold the line. You stay behind and focus on your cultivation. With Old Six and me together, we can look after each other."

"Once the prefecture is in chaos, the surrounding areas will surely become restless. You must guard our home well and ensure no trouble arises."

To preserve his disciples' martial hearts, Zhao Qing refrained from saying anything hurtful. Everyone remained silent, drinking their wine with heads bowed.

"Little Six, your mistress knows your combat strength is high, but when necessary, keep an eye on your master. Don't let him get carried away or venture too deep into enemy lines alone," Yang Shu said, resting her hands on Ling Chi's shoulders, her eyes filled with worry.

"Mistress and fellow brothers and sisters, please rest assured. Master and I can advance and retreat at will. Even if we encounter something beyond our reach, we can handle it calmly," Ling Chi said with a calm expression.

Yang Shu sighed deeply and smoothed Ling Chi's collar, her concern plain to see.

Zhao Qing said nothing. He patted Rui'er's little head, nodded to Yang Shu, and turned to leave the dining hall.

Ling Chi donned his bamboo hat and followed Zhao Qing's footsteps.

A sharp whistle rang out, followed by the sound of copper bells. A large, sturdy black horse galloped over like lightning, its massive head nudging Ling Chi's chest as if complaining about being left behind. Ling Chi grabbed its large ears, ruffled them playfully, and adjusted the new copper bell little Rui'er had tied to it. With a flick of his embroidered robe, he vaulted onto the horse's back.

Zhao Qing was already waiting outside the main gate on a sturdy yellow-maned warhorse. Seeing Ling Chi arrive, he nudged the horse's flanks and started to trot. Within a few breaths, they accelerated. The horses' hooves drummed against the ground, kicking the yellow mud of the official road into the air, only for it to fall back down again.

The two men and two horses galloped toward the prefecture. By now, the prefecture was in total chaos, even worse than when Ling Chi had caused an uproar there last time.

Large numbers of martial artists shrouded in black robes were running wild throughout the city, and there was no shortage of opportunists taking advantage of the turmoil. Shops and street vendors were shuttered, and the timid had already hidden in their cellars.

He Zhixian had operated in the prefecture for many years, and his loyal death-sworn followers were embedded at every level. With this sudden eruption of chaos, Cao Hubao had no strategy to counter it. He could only constantly dispatch men to act as firefighters, while he patrolled the city himself. Despite his cultivation at the half-step Spirit Pearl Realm, he was stretched thin and exhausted.

Even the elite of the Iron Mountain Martial Arts Hall had been temporarily conscripted to oversee security in the east of the city. The Jing'an Bureau operated in teams of three, executing troublemakers on the spot before continuing their patrols.

The prefecture's government office had been completely taken over by He Zhixian. Since the families of these officials were under the He family's control, they had no choice but to follow the He family to the end, even in the treasonous act of rebellion.

The Yingzhou Guard existed in name only. Ling Chi had slaughtered most of its high-ranking officers, and those who remained had either fled or were merely drifting along, waiting for their end. Faced with such chaos, they were useless, wandering aimlessly like salted fish, occasionally extorting vulnerable civilians.

Cao Hubao waited anxiously for reinforcements. The core objective of this encirclement was the well-organized Hezhou Guard. Unlike outsiders like Li Changyuan, the Hezhou Guard consisted entirely of the He family's loyalists—men raised by the family since childhood and martial slaves. They were well-trained, well-equipped, and backed by the Hezhou Prefect, Jiang Xianhe.

What Cao Hubao had not anticipated was that no sooner had they drafted their plans than the He family received word and launched their death-sworn soldiers to create chaos. He Zhixian had already retreated to Hezhou, intending to fight like a cornered beast.

Even a hastily launched attack by such a deep-rooted force caught the nascent Jing'an Bureau off guard, leaving them to act like patch-work smiths, desperately plugging holes. Urgent requests for help poured into the Jing'an Bureau like snowflakes. Everyone who could be sent had been sent; now, they could only leave it to fate.

"Boss Cao, there's a major disaster in the east of the city! The Iron Mountain Martial Arts Hall can't hold on. The master's second direct disciple has been killed in battle, and they are begging for reinforcements."

A messenger on horseback arrived to report. Cao Hubao casually snapped the throat of a black-robed man and tossed him to the side of the road, where a specialized corpse-collecting ox-cart team would soon haul him away.

"Have any reinforcements arrived? Where are Commander Sun's men?" Cao Hubao asked in rapid succession.

"No news yet. Everyone who could be sent has been sent. The Young Master is also there fighting in the east."

Upon hearing that his headstrong son was in the east, Cao Hubao shattered the ground beneath his feet and launched himself into the air, disappearing from the spot. The messenger hurriedly spurred his horse to follow.

Cao Bianjiao was fighting back-to-back with several Jing'an Bureau officers in a military formation. Now at the ninth stage of the Meridian Opening Realm, he wielded a long spear, executing military techniques with broad, sweeping movements.

Green light, representing the wood attribute, surged around him, nourishing him and his comrades while they resisted the waves of black-robed men who charged forward with no regard for their lives.

The entire east of the city had been divided into several battlefields by hundreds of the He family's black-robed death-sworn. Yan Heng, the master of the Iron Mountain Martial Arts Hall, was trapped at a street corner with his disciples, and the Jing'an Bureau reinforcements had been split into smaller groups, targeted for destruction one by one.

"That is Cao Bianjiao, the son of Cao Hubao of the Jing'an Bureau. Take him, and his father will be forced to hold back!"

"Kinsmen, for the sake of your families in Hezhou, charge!" roared a man at the fifth stage of the Qi Sea Realm, shrouded in a black robe and wielding a broadsword.

Under the desperate onslaught of the black-robed men, Cao Bianjiao and his companions were like a small boat in a raging sea, in constant danger of capsizing.

He blocked a heavy saber strike with his spear and, retreating half a step, unleashed his strength.

[Baji, Half-Step Collapse]

Though it was a fist technique, he used his legs to generate power, yet the force remained fierce and explosive.

*Bang!*

The black-robed man in front could not retract his saber in time and was sent flying, his chest bones shattered. His accomplices behind him were knocked down as well. Before Cao Bianjiao could catch his breath, a broadsword struck.

"Diamond Sword Style!"

With a roar and a surge of Qi Sea cultivation, the blow landed heavily on Cao Bianjiao's spear. His thumb webbing and arm bones were instantly cracked, and he was sent flying over ten yards before he could stop.

He stared at the incoming broadsword. Green light flickered around his body, repairing his injuries. He gripped the spear with one hand, his youthful face ablaze with fighting spirit.

"Young Master, watch out!"

Several Jing'an Bureau colleagues abandoned their own opponents, their eyes bloodshot as they rushed toward him. They had watched Cao Bianjiao grow up in the army; if the Boss's son died before them, the guilt would haunt them even in the afterlife.

The broadsword drew closer. He could feel the chilling edge of the blade, enough to make one's blood run cold.