Chapter 40: Pillar of the Spirit (Thanks to COMPROMISE for the recommendation, thank you)

Wang Keyue quickly licked clean two of the buns amid the corpses, and Zhou Wen and Zhou Wu had already begun leading the others to clean up the battlefield.

They immediately collected fifteen horses; due to the fighting just now, two horses had died and another four had run off, which was quite a pity.

They seized more than twenty curved sabers, long whips, and other weapons. Because these weapons had distinctive features and were not suitable for their own people to use, Wang Keyue ordered them to be bundled up and placed in the wagon.

Zhou Dashan took a liking to the animal pelts those men wore. This burly fellow, bold as a tiger, called over a few young lads and together they stripped every pelt from the corpses.

Tsk, tsk, tsk—good thing they left them a pair of large underpants, otherwise it would have been truly an eyesore!

What most delighted Hong Yi and the others was that they found several large sacks of flour, dried meat, and coarse grains, all hanging from the backs of the horses. It was likely that the horses which had escaped also carried food.

Thinking of this, Hong Yi was eager to mount a horse and give chase, but fortunately someone stopped him.

There was no catching up; those horses probably wouldn't get far. Starving refugees would risk everything to intercept a horse—not only would the food on their backs be snatched in a frenzy, but even the horses themselves would likely be devoured on the spot.

The refugees who had originally surrounded Wang Keyue’s group had not gone far. Seeing this troop engage in a brutal fight with the Qianghu tribe, the refugees were terrified, dragging their emaciated bodies and fleeing in desperation.

To everyone’s surprise, about twenty people, armed with wooden stakes and stones, stood resolutely behind Wang Keyue’s troop, apparently ready to fight the Qianghu tribe to the death.

These were mostly elderly men, each with eyes fixed on the Qianghu tribe, their gazes as venomous as if dipped in poison.

The leader, a man of about forty—considered old in this place—was Zhang Guisheng. While fleeing disaster, he had run into the Qianghu tribe; his clansmen, his wife, his children and grandchildren—an entire village, over a hundred lives—gone in an instant!

He no longer wished to flee. Where could he possibly run? Where was there any peace to be found? Better to fight with his life and take one of the savages down with him!

Just as Old Zhang gripped his wooden stake, preparing to charge forward, he realized something was wrong on the battlefield ahead.

Before he and the others could fully grasp what had happened, in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the once imposing, savage Qianghu warriors lay all dead, their heads severed from their bodies!

Was this the work of immortals descended to earth, or demons unleashed? Of course, the refugees immediately dismissed the idea of demons. In their hearts, they much preferred to believe in a miracle—an immortal’s intervention. In their despair, this belief became their spiritual pillar.

In an instant, the refugees erupted in a chorus of exclamations and cheers.

Before long, several braver refugees returned to the side of Wang Keyue’s group.

Among them, a man in his thirties, wearing a dark blue long robe, hunched his back as he approached slowly.

Hong Yi, who had been keeping watch on the perimeter, immediately noticed the man’s approach and shouted, “Stop! What do you want?”

The man in the long robe halted obediently, put his hands together in a respectful gesture, and bowed even lower.

“I do not know your honorable surname, Master. I am Chen Yanzhi, an instructor at Xiuren Academy in Beiping Commandery. I was traveling with my disciples when we encountered the Qianghu. Our belongings, carts, and horses were all stolen. We only ask that you grant us shelter. Once we reach Beiping, I will reward you handsomely.”

Before Hong Yi could respond, two elderly men came forward from the other side, one of whom was Old Zhang. Their clothes were tattered and patched all over.

“Master, please have mercy and take us in. We are willing to sell ourselves to you, so long as you give us a meal and a chance to live.”

Behind Chen Yanzhi was a group of young men in long robes. Though disheveled and covered in mud, they still carried themselves with the air of young nobles. One of them sneered, “How dare you, lowly rabble! A bunch of mongrels like you think you deserve to beg for mercy? Don’t get in our way and block our business!”

Hong Yi watched as the two sides began to trade barbs, each retorting to the other, making for a lively scene.

Wang Keyue had little patience for these pedantic scholars who couldn’t lift a finger, and their constant talk of ‘mongrels’ and ‘lowborn’ only deepened her distaste.

“Since you scholars despise us lowly folk so much, you’d best keep your distance!” Wang Keyue sat tall on her horse, looking down on the destitute scholars with cold contempt, her tone utterly merciless.

Master Chen quickly realized the situation and wanted to silence the students who had spoken out of turn, but it was already too late.

“Lowborn, just name your price. My family has plenty of money! As long as you escort us back home…” a short scholar among them shouted loudly.

Before he could finish, Wang Keyue turned away, leaving the scholars standing awkwardly where they were, ignored and dismissed.

Master Chen was furious, glaring at the short scholar with a look of utter disappointment. “You… you… you are utterly foolish!”

The short scholar felt wronged, but remained stubborn as a mule, unmoved by his master’s rebuke.