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The summer hillside was warming under the intensifying sun. Just moments ago, the sky had been serene, but now it was a scene of chaotic frenzy. From the boulder-strewn woods, a throng of people brandishing weapons emerged, their faces contorted in savage fury. Their roars echoed like the cries of primeval beasts, hysterical and terrifying.

"Kill him—"

"Ambush—"

"Slaughter him, slaughter him—"

"Luo Zha—"

Countless shouts mingled in the din. Though numbering only seventy or eighty, their sudden appearance before one or two individuals was like facing a sea of people. Lin Chong moved with the speed of an arrow, cutting in from the side. Instantly, four or five men rushed to attack him, unleashing a hail of hidden weapons. But before their projectiles could find their mark, the troublemaker was upon them, slamming into one man's chest and relentlessly driving forward.

The others, unable to stop in time, could only hastily swing their blades. Lin Chong's figure flashed past, and he seized one man by the neck. His steps never faltered, and the man stumbled backward, colliding with a companion's leg. As he tried to raise his blade, Lin Chong pinned his wrist to his chest, snatched the steel knife, and slashed.

The first man Lin Chong had struck was sent flying back twenty feet, crashing into a tree, spitting blood. His chest had caved in. Meanwhile, Lin Chong plunged into the crowd, creating a whirlwind around him. Three or four bandits were flung, tripped, and tossed aside. As he surged forward, he slashed out a few times. The remaining enemies scrambled to stop him, attempting to intercept this sudden intruder.

The woods were sparse, and Lin Chong pressed onward, casually swinging his blade. Three bandits who dared to meet his gaze were instantly sent tumbling back, spurting blood. Seven or eight men were already giving chase, but they couldn't match his speed. Nearby, a wild-haired expert wielding twin blades and sporting facial tattoos charged forward with a guttural cry. At first, he aimed to cut Lin Chong off, but as he neared, he found himself trailing behind. The tattooed man roared and slashed at Lin Chong's back, but Lin Chong continued his advance, leaving the blade behind him, first by a step, then by two or three. Enraged, the twin-blade expert frantically pursued him, his expression growing increasingly crazed.

This twin-blade expert was Luo Zha, the "Mad Blade," from the nearby Copper Bull Stronghold. Luo Zha, ranked seventh among the nine chieftains of Copper Bull Ridge, was a known figure among the bandits. But Lin Chong cared not who was behind him or ahead of him. He charged forward, and a spear-wielding lackey thrust his weapon. Lin Chong met the spear's point head-on, his steel blade slicing along the shaft. Blood erupted as the blade severed the man's hands. Without pausing, Lin Chong swung the blade in a wide arc and flung it behind him, while the spear fell to the ground.

Luo Zha, seeing the meddling villain finally stalled, redoubled his efforts, raising his twin blades and sprinting faster. But then he saw the steel knife hurtling towards him. With a cry, he ducked his head, and the blade grazed his cheek, striking a lackey behind him in the chest. Before Luo Zha could right himself, the fallen spear suddenly seemed to come alive, leaping from the ground.

The spear technique included the "Phoenix Nod," but now the fallen spear rose like a phoenix suddenly lifting its head. It paused for a moment before Luo Zha’s eyes, then was dragged back toward the front by Lin Chong.

Luo Zha brandished his twin blades, but his body continued to hurtle forward for several steps before his gait became erratic. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, struggling to rise, only to fall again.

In the instant Lin Chong lifted the spear, Luo Zha had been unable to stop his momentum, and his throat had slammed into the spear point. The spear, suspended in mid-air, severed his windpipe. In these chaotic times, the seventh chieftain of Copper Bull Stronghold, usually a formidable figure in his own right, had simply pursued a fleeting back and impaled himself upon the spear. The lackeys behind him roared and charged past his position, some glancing in horror. The figure in front never faltered, his long spear stabbing east and west, sending three bandits rolling into the bushes, their bodies twitching, their wounds spurting blood.

In recent years, the Jurchens and the puppet Qi regime had occupied the Central Plains, and most people suffered terribly. Anyone with a modicum of martial skill turned to banditry, forming their own bands, a common occurrence in cities both large and small. These turbulent times had shattered the last vestiges of camaraderie among the bandits. While they often waved the banner of resisting the Jurchens, their activities primarily targeted Han Chinese. Years of living by the sword had bred a savage ruthlessness. Even though the sudden intrusion had caught them off guard, they still roared and surged forward.

On the other side, the messenger they sought to intercept moved with incredible speed. In the blink of an eye, he had slanted into the edge of the throng through a hail of stray arrows. His heavy octagonal mixed copper staff shattered anything it touched, and he dragged the chasing mob toward the woods at high speed. Five or six men fell, but even more charged forward.

Both experts chose similar tactics to fight outnumbered: high-speed incursions into the woods, relying on agility to quickly move, and never allowing the enemy to mass. However, this time, Shi Jin was the primary target, and many Copper Bull Stronghold chieftains had gathered. Lin Chong's intrusion was sudden, and only the seventh chieftain, Luo Zha, had truly gone to intercept him.

The Copper Bull Stronghold's leader, Tang Kan, had been a ruthless bandit lord for over a decade. In recent years, as life outside became increasingly difficult, his ruthlessness had allowed Copper Bull Stronghold to prosper. This time, they had received a large sum of money and were attempting to intercept the Eight-Armed Dragon King heading south. If the Red Crest Mountain still existed, he wouldn't have dared to entertain such an idea. But Red Crest Mountain had already succumbed to internal strife, and after the Eight-Armed Dragon King's defeat by Lin Zongwu, he was considered one of the top martial arts masters in the world. Tang Kan had decided to take a gamble and make a name for himself.

No matter how skilled a martial arts master was, they couldn't withstand being swarmed. Over the years, Copper Bull Stronghold had recruited many desperate men through bloody and ruthless means. However, their methods were so brutal that the local government heavily suppressed them. If the stronghold wanted to develop further, it needed to build a reputation. Killing the lone Eight-Armed Dragon King was the best way to achieve that reputation. As for whether the reputation was good or bad, a bad reputation was better than starvation.

Having received the information, he had dispatched all the experts from the stronghold, each having received a settlement fee, fearless of death. At this moment, Shi Jin, dodging the arrow rain, charged into the woods. His staff skills were famous, and no one could withstand a direct clash. But Tang Kan directed his men to surround and attack, briefly slowing the opponent's speed. The Eight-Armed Dragon King had encountered more than one or two interceptions along the way and was already injured. If they could just slow him down, they could swarm him. He couldn't possibly have four heads and eight arms.

Shi Jin was already one of the strongest men in the world. Even if some so-called "righteous men" came to rescue him, Copper Bull Stronghold had killed a few of those before. Who knew that not long after, the killing spread to the side and rear, instantly wrapping around the north end of the woods from the south. The stronghold members on that side hadn't been able to stop the intruder. Shi Jin charged left and right through the throng in the woods, and the desperados howled hysterically as they charged. But on the other end, someone was already shouting, "This guy is tough..."

"Stop him, stop him—"

"Damn it, I'll skin you alive and kill your whole family—"

The shouts were filled with panic. Tang Kan, leading his men toward Shi Jin, shouted again, "Luo Zha—" Someone replied, "Seventh Chieftain is dead, this guy is too strong." The woods were filled with the clamor of battle, men charging wildly with knives, men drawing bows and shooting arrows, men wounded and fallen. The air was thick with the smell of blood. Then, Shi Jin roared, "Good spear skills, which hero is it!" He was above on a small slope, so he had seen the figure holding a spear below.

The figure said, "Go south!" With a surge of inner force, the calm voice spread like a rising tide. Tang Kan's scalp tingled. This sudden arrival was a master no less skilled than Shi Jin. He gritted his teeth and led his men forward, "You won't get away—"

Eighty men were surrounding two, one of whom was injured. What could a master do?

Having only just run a short distance, they saw a figure with a spear cut through the trees. Behind him, more than a dozen men chased frantically, unable to catch up. A small Copper Bull Stronghold leader charged forward, and as the figure ran, he casually thrust out his spear. The leader's body was flung onto the road, as if he had deliberately impaled himself on the spear tip.

The figure glanced at Tang Kan from afar, then circled upward through the woods, keeping Tang Kan in sight.

"Stop him! Kill him—" Tang Kan roared, swinging a pair of heavy hammers, but the figure was faster than he imagined. He crouched low, using the downhill momentum to become a straight gray line, hurtling forward.

Tang Kan was surrounded by Copper Bull Stronghold experts. Four or five of them formed a line in front, and as they watched the charging figure, they were struck with awe. A whooshing sound filled the air. The figure wasn't holding a spear. His charging steps were like an iron bull plowing the earth. Too fast.

The men attacked almost simultaneously, but the figure was faster than they could see. He suddenly plunged into the crowd, forcing open a path through the gaps between blades and spears. Tang Kan had never seen such a situation before, a human wall being so savagely broken through. He saw the overwhelming threat hurtling toward him like a flood. He swung his twin hammers down, but Lin Chong was even faster. His shoulder slammed into Tang Kan's shoulder, his right hand thrust upward between Tang Kan's hands, smashing into Tang Kan's chin. The entire jaw, including the teeth, shattered instantly.

The high-speed impact didn't stop, and Tang Kan was sent flying, becoming a streak that stretched over several feet. Then, Lin Chong pressed him down, head first, followed by a twisted roll, crashing into a pile of rubble. Lin Chong's clothes were ripped to shreds by the impact, billowing forward from the momentum, steam rising from his head.

Several Copper Bull Stronghold lackeys were nearby. He swung his arms a few times, his steps never faltering. The lackeys hesitated for a moment, some backing away, others turning to flee.

A voice came from the woods above, "It's Brother Lin..." There was some hesitation in the voice. Shi Jin was still fighting, but chaos had spread.

Some Copper Bull Stronghold chieftains still wanted the money and led their men to try to surround and kill Shi Jin, or to fight Lin Chong. But after Tang Kan's death, the chaotic scene could no longer contain them. Shi Jin killed a few men at random, and he and Lin Chong ran out of the woods together. Copper Bull Stronghold members were running and fleeing around them. They didn't go far south before they saw the horses the bandits had ridden. Some men came and mounted the horses to escape. Lin Chong and Shi Jin each mounted a horse and rode south along the mountain road. Shi Jin was overjoyed to confirm that the man before him was Lin Chong, the brother he had sought for over a decade. He was heavily injured, but he didn't seem to notice as he rode.

In the past, they had been close friends in Liangshan, but those events were memories from over a decade ago. Now, they had transformed from spirited young men into middle-aged men. Many words couldn't be said at once. They reached a stream in the mountains, and Shi Jin reined in his horse, signaling Lin Chong to stop as well. He smiled heartily, dismounted, and said, "Brother Lin, let's rest here. I'm injured and need to take care of it... This road is not peaceful, it's not good to mess around.”

Lin Chong nodded.

It was noon. They stopped temporarily by the stream. Shi Jin bandaged his wounds and spoke of his search for Lin Chong after the destruction of Liangshan: "That was over a decade ago. I searched for you everywhere but couldn't find any news. Later, I went to Red Crest Mountain and asked people to inquire about you, thinking you were probably dead. To see you safe and sound now... it's truly a good thing."

When they first met, Shi Jin was young, and Lin Chong hadn't entered middle age. Shi Jin was chivalrous and generous, but he respected those who were literate and had gentle natures. He had always addressed Lin Chong as his elder brother. Now, the Nine-Tattooed Dragon had grown into the Eight-Armed Dragon King, his words carrying the solid weight of the years. He spoke lightly, but in reality, he had put in a great deal of effort to find Lin Chong.

For the past few days, Lin Chong's mind had been sinking into grief. He no longer cared about the affairs of the world. But now, he had suddenly encountered his former brother, and in his gray mood, he felt a sense of detachment, as if he were no longer in the human world. As Shi Jin bandaged, he talked about his experiences and observations over the years. He could see that his elder brother's state wasn't quite right. In the intervening decade, the Central Plains had seen several emperors change hands. Heroes and commoners alike had risen and fallen, each enduring the world's hardships. The Leopard Head of the past had carried deep grudges, but his emotions were still restrained. Now, the distant, despairing aura was outwardly apparent. In the woods earlier, Lin Chong had moved with swift strides, and his spear skills had reached a transcendent level, but his thrusts were unusually calm and cold, a feeling that even Zhou Tong hadn't conveyed when he killed Jurchens.

Although Shi Jin preferred to believe in his former brother, Liangshan had been destroyed by internal strife, and Red Crest Mountain had also succumbed to internal conflict. It was fine for him to travel the world alone, but this mission south was important, so he couldn't help but be wary.

After speaking for a while, Shi Jin bandaged his wounds. Lin Chong went to catch two rabbits nearby and started a fire by the stream. Shi Jin asked, "Brother Lin, where have you been all these years?"

Lin Chong was silent for a long time. He roasted the rabbits over the fire, then reached up to massage his head. He recalled something and smiled slightly, "Actually, Brother Shi, I saw you once."

"Hmm?"

"A few years ago, in a place called Nine Wood Ridge, I was with… I opened an inn there. You passed by and had a little spat with a group of Jianghu people. At that time, you were already the famous Eight-Armed Dragon King, everyone knew about your efforts against the Jurchens… I didn't come out to see you."

"Oh…"

Shi Jin nodded, trying to remember where Nine Wood Ridge was. He had been extremely busy these years and didn't remember many small things.

"I know many things about you, your fame shook the world." Lin Chong lowered his head and smiled slightly. Thinking back, he had been moved and honored to hear about his brother's deeds. He slowly said, "As for me… after the destruction of Liangshan, I met my master near Yi Yuan… He said I was weak and no longer recognized me as a disciple. Later… some Liangshan brothers betrayed me and wanted to capture me for a reward. I didn't want to kill anymore at that time, so I was chased and fell into the river. Later… I was rescued by a widow in a small village…"

The fire crackled. Lin Chong's words were low and slow. He felt a little calmer facing Shi Jin, but recalling the many things, his heart still felt heavy. Shi Jin didn't urge him, waiting for Lin Chong to pause in his memories before saying, "I killed all those bastards. What happened after that…"

"I was despondent and didn't want to get involved in the Jianghu anymore, so I stayed there." Lin Chong lowered his head and smiled, then tilted his head with difficulty, "That widow… was called Xu… Jinhua. She had a fiery personality, and we later lived together… I remember the village was called…"

Lin Chong spoke as he recalled. The rabbits were soon roasted, and they tore them apart and ate. Lin Chong spoke of the conditions in the village where he had once lived, talking about this and that trivial matter, the changes in the outside world. His memory was chaotic, like a mirage. He had to look closer to see things a little clearer. Shi Jin occasionally added a few sentences about what he had been doing at that time. Their memories merged, and occasionally Lin Chong could even smile. Speaking of children, speaking of his life in Wozhou, the cicadas in the forest chirped loudly. Lin Chong's tone slowed down, sometimes with long silences. After a long time, the stream gurgled in the valley, the clouds in the sky spread and contracted. Lin Chong leaned against a tree trunk and said in a low voice, "She eventually died…"

"Who did it?"

Lin Chong smiled:

"A man named Qi Ao." After saying this, he smiled again, then reached up to press his forehead.

Shi Jin said, "My nephew also…"

Lin Chong didn't speak. Shi Jin punched a stone with a bang, "He can't be allowed to live much longer!"

"You heal your wounds first." Lin Chong said, then added, "He won't live."

Birds chirped in the forest, making the surroundings even quieter. They sat there diagonally opposite each other. Although Shi Jin was angry, he didn't speak but leaned his body against the tree trunk behind him. In recent years, he had been known as the Eight-Armed Dragon King, but he had never had a peaceful day. The entire Central Plains was anything but peaceful and stable. Fighting with the Jurchens, being surrounded and killed, suffering hunger, were all commonplace. He had seen Han families slaughtered or taken to the north as slaves, the tragedy of women being raped, and even the most heartbreaking cases of parents exchanging children to eat. What heroes and great men, they all had sorrows and joys. Countless times, Shi Jin had felt a pain so deep that he wanted to tear out his heart, but he had gritted his teeth and used his life on the battlefield to balance things out.

Now such pain had befallen his own brother. There was no need to ask for details. In the south, millions of "hungry ghosts" had not suffered any less misfortune. Millions suffering misfortune didn't mean that this one was insignificant, but asking why at this point was meaningless, and even the details were meaningless.

He sat for a long time and exhaled with a "ha": "Actually, Brother Lin, these past few years, at Red Crest Mountain, I was a highly respected great hero, wasn't I? There was a woman in the mountains, I liked her very much, we agreed that we would get married when the world was a little more peaceful… She suddenly died in a small battle two years ago. It's like that sometimes, you haven't even reacted, and the world has changed. After people die, your heart is empty." He clenched his fist and lightly hammered his chest. Lin Chong turned his eyes to look at him. Shi Jin stood up from the ground. He had been sitting too casually, or he had dropped all his guard in front of Lin Chong. His body swayed a few times, and Lin Chong also stood up.

"Actually, sometimes, in this world, there really is fate." Shi Jin said, walking to his luggage, "I brought something with me this time, and I kept thinking why I was carrying it. When I saw Brother Lin, I suddenly felt… maybe it really is fate. Grandmaster Zhou has been dead for ten years, and it's been in the north for ten years… Brother Lin, you'll definitely be happy to see this…"

Shi Jin picked up the long package, took off half of the cloth cover, and revealed an old spear. The spear was thrown over by Shi Jin, reflecting the sunlight, and Lin Chong reached out to catch it.

In the sunlight, there was a soft "hum."

Azure Dragon Subdues…

Something surged from the depths of his heart. It was in his youth many years ago, in the imperial boxing hall, as one of the most talented disciples under Zhou Tong, he had often played with and polished his master's spear. Although Zhou Tong was strict, he didn't care much about weapons. Sometimes, the disciples would take turns using the Azure Dragon Subdues to spar, and it wasn't a big deal.

"I'll you fucking... coward--" That dark courtyard, the old man kicked over--

Memories and regrets, like a spear tip, traversed decades and came charging. Lin Chong let out an unspeakable groan, the spear in his hand feeling like burning coals, reflecting the sunlight and blinding him. He held the spear in his hand for a moment, then with a "brush" sound, the spear stabbed into the round stone next to him. In the valley, the Azure Dragon Subdues penetrated the stone by more than three feet, standing straight there, pointing directly at the sky.

"... Good!"

Shi Jin praised and clapped his hands.

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