Chapter 134: Chemen Mountain (5)

"Huh?!!"
"Scoundrel!"
"You're courting death!"

The surrounding bandits erupted in a chorus of rebukes, curses, and exclamations, throwing the scene into total chaos. Some even brandished their blades and lunged forward, but they were too far away to intervene.

The beautiful face of the woman in red, Nie Chuchen, was suddenly masked in a livid shade of rage. With a sharp shriek, she leaned violently backward, dodging Kong Sheng’s swift and lethal spear thrust by a hair’s breadth in the blink of an eye. She then seized the moment to kick free of her stirrups, performing a side-flip that allowed her to land gracefully on the ground.

Kong Sheng, having launched a sudden assault only to strike empty air, felt his heart sink in disappointment. At the same time, a faint tinge of envy stirred within him. The way Mu Changfeng and the woman in red leaped and bounded through the air defied his values and scientific logic; if only he possessed such skills, his chances of survival would increase significantly.

Gritting his teeth, a fierce, rugged determination surged within him once more. Deciding to see his actions through to the end, he swung the handle of his spear downward with all his might. The heavy shaft slammed into the horse’s back with a thunderous *thud*. Nie Chuchen’s mount let out a hysterical, piercing scream; its legs buckled, and it was forced to the ground by the crushing, mountain-like weight of the blow, immediately collapsing with foam flething at its mouth.

This black horse was Nie Chuchen’s prized steed. Seeing it gravely injured by Kong Sheng, the pain cut to her marrow, and the fury in her heart burned even brighter. Naturally hot-tempered, she could not swallow this insult. She pushed off the ground, pulled her longbow to its full draw, and released three arrows in rapid succession, aiming straight for Kong Sheng’s throat, midsection, and legs.

Nie Chuchen had not initially intended to kill Kong Sheng, but she never expected that a scholar who looked so gentle and refined would strike with such ruthless resolve. One thrust had nearly cost her her life, and when he found he couldn't threaten her, he had resorted to the despicable act of attacking an innocent horse.

Nie Chuchen’s archery was truly extraordinary, its brilliance beyond description. At such close range and in such a hurried moment, she was still able to loose three arrows simultaneously, striking at different angles toward Kong Sheng’s vitals.

Kong Sheng had no time to react as the three gleaming arrows whistled toward him. One aimed for his throat, one for his dantian, and one for his lower body. Whether he dodged the upper path or the middle and lower ones, he could not avoid them all. A single hit would mean death or grievous injury.

In this moment of crisis, knowing retreat was impossible, Kong Sheng steeled himself and let out a roar. He reached up to grab the arrow flying toward his throat, ignoring the other two. It was a choice born of near-robotic rationality: a hit to the throat meant certain death, while the other two offered a slim chance of survival.

Two red flashes hummed as they flew in from the left—two swallow-shaped throwing knives launched by Mu Changfeng. With impossible precision, they struck the two arrows fired by Nie Chuchen, snapping them in half at the shaft. They skimmed past Kong Sheng’s body and landed in the withered grass with a dull *thud*.

All of Kong Sheng’s focus was locked on the lethal arrow before his throat. In that life-or-death instant, his body’s potential was fully ignited. With a movement and speed that defied belief, he seized the flying shaft.

However, the arrow’s momentum was too great, its speed and force beyond human imagination. Even as his grip tightened around it, the immense kinetic energy dragged his hand forward. The shaft snapped with a *crack*, slicing a shallow groove into his palm, but the sharp arrowhead continued its path. Fortunately, the trajectory had shifted, and it buried itself into his shoulder socket with a sickening *thud*.

At the same time, Mu Changfeng leaped into the air with a furious shout, his sword flashing brilliantly as he lunged toward Nie Chuchen.

But Nie Chuchen was now surrounded by her bandit subordinates. Mu Changfeng’s sword-strike was met by a wall of raised blades, creating a violent, high-pitched clash of steel.

Wu Jie gritted his teeth and roared, charging toward the spot where Wu Xian was bound, hoping to break through the bandit ranks to rescue him, but his efforts were clearly in vain.

Suddenly, a thunderous sound of galloping hooves and running feet echoed across the field. Kong Sheng, clutching the tail of the arrow embedded in his shoulder, bit back the pain. He thought to pull it out, but realizing it would cause profuse bleeding, he gritted his teeth and let go.

Looking up from his horse, he saw dozens of riders and over a hundred black-clad bandits charging down from the steep slope, stirring up a massive cloud of dust.

Kong Sheng’s heart went cold, and a bitter curve tugged at the corner of his mouth. Four men against nearly two hundred bandits—with the timing, terrain, and numbers all favoring the enemy, what more was there to say?

Kong Sheng felt a surge of indignation: had these Chemen bandits emptied their entire camp just for the four of them? Was it an overreaction, or were they simply cursed with bad luck?

The bandits who had charged down the slope formed ranks at the bottom, their military formation disciplined and orderly. Kong Sheng took a deep breath; he had already spotted Nangong Wang, dressed in a green robe and holding a folding fan, standing elegantly on his horse. The man nodded at him with a gentle smile.

"Master Kong," Nangong Wang said with a faint smile, "I trust you have been well?"

Kong Sheng pointed his silver spear toward Nangong Wang, his voice cold. "Master Nangong, you ask the obvious! We were merely passing by the mountain when you gathered your mob to waylay us. Let us dispense with the pleasantries; I would rather die than suffer the indignity of being held by a group of brigands like you!"

Having abandoned all thoughts of escape, Kong Sheng was ready to die, and he no longer cared about his words.

Seeing his insolence, Nie Chuchen’s expression darkened as she gripped her bow, while her subordinates jeered and cursed. Just as Nie Chuchen was about to notch another arrow to shoot Kong Sheng from his mount, she saw Tang Genshui, a fierce warrior behind Nangong Wang, roar and charge down the slope.

Tang Genshui still nursed the deep humiliation of having his weapon taken by Kong Sheng that day. Seeing Kong Sheng now holding his own silver spear, he could restrain himself no longer.

Nangong Wang could not stop him and merely sighed, shaking his head. He flicked his fan and cast a meaningful glance at one of his men, who understood and rode off toward Nie Chuchen’s position.

Because his spear had been stolen, Tang Genshui lacked a proper weapon and had grabbed a heavy *ji*—a long halberd—instead. Wielding it, he roared as he charged: "Small thief, return my spear!"

Tang Genshui was known among the Hongze water bandits as the "God of Great Strength," and he had been trained in spear techniques by a master. The force of his downward strike with the halberd, compounded by the momentum of his charge, was immense.

"Good!"
"Ha-ya-ya!"
"Damn it, smash that little thief into a meat patty and see how arrogant he is then!"

Even the bandits cheered, while Mu Changfeng and Wu Jie felt a stir of anxiety, fearing Kong Sheng could not withstand the blow and preparing to charge to his aid.

Kong Sheng stood firm on his horse. His mount, Zhuifeng, dug its hooves into the earth and let out a long, defiant neigh.

Kong Sheng looked up. Under the brilliant sunlight, the halberd in Tang Genshui’s hands descended with crushing, incomparable force. If he could not block it, the strike would be enough to destroy both him and his horse.

Kong Sheng exhaled. In a flash, he raised his spear with both hands, pouring every ounce of his strength into the defense as he roared.

When the halberd struck the shaft of Kong Sheng’s spear, the direct collision of power sent sparks flying. The crisp ring of clashing steel echoed across the plains. Kong Sheng did not budge, though Zhuifeng took two small steps back under the impact. In contrast, Tang Genshui was jolted by the massive rebound force; he trembled, and the halberd nearly flew from his hands.

Kong Sheng laughed aloud. He kicked his horse’s flanks, and Zhuifeng lunged forward. Kong Sheng swept his spear in a follow-up strike toward Tang Genshui.

Tang Genshui’s face flushed red, and his expression turned solemn. Only now did he begin to truly respect Kong Sheng as a foe. He swung his halberd, engaging Kong Sheng in a fierce exchange. He utilized his refined techniques and years of experience to barely parry Kong Sheng’s wild, unrefined, yet ferocious onslaught.