It was the very end of summer, and the entire continent was shrouded in heat. Although this vast mountain range was close to the sea, it couldn't receive the moisture and coolness brought by the sea breeze due to its terrain. It was just relentlessly sweltering, which explained the intense, decaying smell in the mountain forest and the many frightening dangers.

The meadow on the mountaintop was drier because it directly faced the sky. Moreover, its perilous terrain kept large carnivorous animals away.

It was almost noon, and the blinding sun was desperately pouring out heat, generously bestowing most of it upon this meadow. The light was so intense that the originally green grass stalks had begun to reflect white light, indicating just how high the temperature was.

Small animals had already entered the soil to escape the heat, and birds had returned to their nests in the treetops halfway up the mountain, waiting for the next morning to seek out grass seeds for food.

The entire meadow was quiet, utterly silent, only occasionally stirred by a mountain breeze, which raised waves of shifting green and white. The porcelain blue sky and comfortable white clouds gently watched these waves, and the whole world was utterly beautiful.

If it weren't for those two humans and the blood flowing from them, it would have been perfect.

…

…

With a groan, Fan Xian slowly opened his eyes, which were blurred with sweat and blood. He squinted at the sky, noticing a speck of light in his vision that he couldn't get rid of. He didn't realize it was a result of being exposed to the intense sun for too long. Instinctively, he reached out to wave it away, but his right hand felt very heavy. He realized he was still clutching the heavy sniper rifle tightly.

He switched to his left hand to wave, and a piercing pain shot through him, causing him to shout out loud!

The pain brought him back to his senses. He lowered his gaze and stared blankly at the feathered arrow lodged in his left chest. The entire arrow had pierced through, leaving only the fletching visible outside his body. Blood gurgled out continuously, staining the black feathers even more crimson.

He slightly bent his left leg and with great difficulty, used his right hand to pull out the black dagger from his boot. He very slowly and carefully extended it behind his back, and gently cut through the tiny gap between his body and the meadow.

The arrow shaft buried in the soil was severed, and his body immediately felt lighter, but the slight vibration caused a sharp pain in his chest, turning his face pale, and he almost cried out again.

Enduring the pain, he used the dagger to remove most of the fletching protruding from his chest, leaving only a small stub, making it easier to pull out the arrow later.

After doing all this, the pain had caused him to sweat profusely, washing away even the blood on his face.

He lay on his back, breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused as he looked at the blue sky and white clouds, not even bothering to avoid the glaring sunlight, because he felt there was nothing better in the world than being alive. How much would he regret it if he couldn't see this sun again?

Fan Xian was very lucky. Yan Xiaoyi's arrow accurately struck his left chest, but just as the arrow reached his body, Fan Xian had pulled the trigger. Although the recoil of the m82a1 wasn't significant, it still caused his body to move backward slightly.

That slight movement caused Yan Xiaoyi's arrow to hit slightly higher than intended, avoiding the vital part of his heart and penetrating below his left shoulder.

As for whether Yan Xiaoyi was dead or not, he didn't care at all. He just felt very tired and wanted to lie down, on this soft meadow, on this isolated mountaintop, enjoying a rare moment of rest. Besides, if Yan Xiaoyi wasn't dead, in his current condition, he could only be killed.

So, why bother worrying about it?

…

…

But he had to care, because there were still many things in the world waiting for him to do. After a moment, a weak figure appeared on the quiet, suffocating meadow. Fan Xian dragged his heavily injured body, leaning on the sniper rifle, step by step, across the meadow, towards the pool of blood.

Earlier, Fan Xian had felt that three hundred meters was too close, close enough to make his hair stand on end. But now, he felt that those three hundred meters were so far, seemingly endless.

By the time he reached Yan Xiaoyi's side, he was almost unable to stand, his legs trembling uncontrollably. The world's most precious weapon supported his entire weight, its precise barrel deeply embedded in the soil.

Fan Xian didn't care anymore. No matter how powerful a weapon was, it was really no different from a crutch. If a person couldn't throw away the crutch, they might never be able to walk on their own.

He looked at Yan Xiaoyi in the pool of blood, squinted his eyes, frowned, and his mood was complex. He didn't know what kind of emotions he should be feeling.

The blood had long since drained, seeping into the soil beneath the green meadow. The upper left part of Yan Xiaoyi's body was completely gone, reduced to unrecognizable bits of flesh. It looked like a squashed tomato, with red pulp and flesh splattered haphazardly, terrifying.

Since childhood, Fan Xian had followed Fei Jie, digging graves and examining corpses, having seen countless gloomy and terrifying scenes. But looking at the scene before him, he couldn't help but turn his head away.

Clearly, Fan Xian's shot was still off, but the powerful force of the anti-materiel rifle was fully demonstrated at this moment. Having suffered such a powerful blow, even a ninth-rank expert in this world could only pay with their life.

Fan Xian calmed his mood, turned back, and walked to Yan Xiaoyi's intact head, preparing to reach out and close the eyes of this powerful man who had died with them wide open.

However… he saw the pupils that had already dilated, and stopped moving, as if he felt this person was still alive.

…

…

"Maybe you can still hear me," Fan Xian said after a moment of silence, his voice laced with suppressed coughs. "I know you think this is unfair, but things in this world are never fair."

Yan Xiaoyi didn't react at all, his pupils dilated, staring at the sky.

After a short silence, Fan Xian said, "Your son wasn't killed by me, but by Si Gu Jian. I'll avenge you in the future."

He didn't know why Fan Xian would tell such a lie beside Yan Xiaoyi's corpse. Actually, his idea was very simple. He felt that this death was unfair to Yan Xiaoyi, and that this gifted expert had died unjustly. He also knew what a person would think before dying.

For example, what was Yan Xiaoyi's biggest concern – if Yan Xiaoyi believed that he was the murderer of Yan Shendu, but Yan Xiaoyi couldn't kill him to avenge his son, then this expert would probably be extremely saddened.

These words were just to put Yan Xiaoyi's mind at ease. However, Yan Xiaoyi's eyes still didn't close. Fan Xian smiled self-deprecatingly, wondering if he was comforting the dead, or comforting himself?

He said softly, "They were right, your strength is indeed powerful, you could even try to challenge those old monsters. So I couldn't kill you, and it wasn't me who killed you."

After a moment of silence, Fan Xian continued, "This thing is called a gun, it's the essence of a civilization... although this essence isn't necessarily a good thing for that civilization."

Yan Xiaoyi's eyes still didn't close, but a crack sounded from the neck bones, and his head tilted, falling into his own blood and flesh. This ninth-rank expert had long since died, but the skeleton shattered by the bullet finally couldn't bear the weight of the head and fell down, like a fallen leaf.

Fan Xian was stunned, staring blankly at the dead man's pale, blood-smeared face, not knowing what to say for a long time. After a long time, he looked up at the sky, as if trying to find some traces from the blue sky and white clouds.

…

…

A skilled warrior dies by the sword, a skilled swimmer drowns in the water, and a skilled archer dies by the arrow. This is the well-known truth that people have summarized. Yan Xiaoyi, whose archery skills were divine, ultimately died under a Barrett. Regardless of whether the outcome was fair, regardless of whether the process was absurd, the pool of blood and flesh on the ground proved the bloodiness and nakedness of this truth.

Yan Xiaoyi was the strongest enemy Fan Xian had killed since his rebirth. He still maintained respect for the pool of blood and flesh on the ground, especially the chase of the past day and night, which allowed him to finally understand a truth at the final moment of life and death, and figure out something that would undoubtedly play a very important role in his future life.

He was too afraid of death, so his actions were always cautious and gloomy, with enough ruthless decisiveness, but he had never possessed the bright mood of Hai Tang or the obsession and courage of Wang Shisanlang. It wasn't until he was forced to the edge of the cliff by Yan Xiaoyi that he truly broke through the darkness in his heart, bravely stood up from the grass, and raised the gun in his hand.

He had stood up from now on.

…

…

Maintaining his respect for Yan Xiaoyi, Fan Xian began to carry out the subsequent work ruthlessly after getting used to the pool of blood and flesh. He took down the gold-threaded longbow beside the opponent's corpse and laboriously dragged the half-missing corpse towards the cliff.

Standing on the edge of the cliff, he measured the direction, then slowly squatted down, picked up a stone, and began to carve the corpse pieces. At this time, the sun was extremely strong. Between the blue sky, white clouds, and green grass, a handsome but pale young man was holding a stone and constantly chopping the corpse beside him, blood splashing everywhere, and the scene looked extremely disgusting.

He pushed Yan Xiaoyi's half corpse and the stone off the cliff, and after a long time, there was no echo.

After doing all this, he was exhausted, and the sharp pain in his chest made him unable to stand, collapsing to the ground in a very embarrassed state, feeling dizzy.

He knew that he had to rest and heal. The remaining pieces of flesh and internal organs in the grass would probably be digested by the creatures in this primeval forest in a few days, and he still had to eliminate the traces left by the heavy sniper rifle.

He coughed twice, and the small arrow pierced through his heart trembled, spreading a heart-wrenching pain, causing him to groan.

————————————————————————

Not at the same moment, far away from that wondrous meadow on the mountaintop, in the Qing Temple buildings on top of Mount Dadong, the Qing emperor, trapped on Mount Dadong, looked out the window at the faint morning light, lost in thought.

"I wonder if that child can safely return to the capital," he said slowly. This should be the first time the Qing emperor had shown such gentleness towards Fan Xian in front of outsiders.

Hong, the old eunuch, smiled slightly, his deep wrinkles filled with calmness, as if there weren't five thousand powerful rebel troops at the foot of the mountain, and a grandmaster wearing a bamboo hat wasn't slowly walking up the stairway to heaven.

"Little Fan is naturally gifted, and there are no remarkable figures outside Mount Dadong," Hong, the old eunuch, said gently. "The journey should not be difficult, the key is what happens after he returns to the capital."

"The matters in the capital are not difficult to handle," the Qing emperor said with a slight smile. "The more I see him, the more I like this child. This time, I'll take another look at him."

The old eunuch Hong sighed inwardly, thinking that if you like him, why suspect and tempt him again? How different is this from the methods used on the Second Prince back then?

The emperor stopped talking about the illegitimate son who had escaped, turned to look at Hong, the old eunuch, and said calmly, "This time, I'll rely on you."

Hong, the old eunuch, was still hunched over, and after a long silence, he slowly said, "This servant is a servant of Qing, and since the founding of the country, I have always looked forward to my Great Qing Dynasty unifying the world. It is this old servant's good fortune to be able to serve Your Majesty."

This wasn't an expression of loyalty. There was no need for these superfluous words between the emperor and the old eunuch. But to this day, with the army besieging the mountain, Hong, the old eunuch, still slowly spoke out, as if eager to tell the emperor his thoughts.

The emperor quietly looked at Hong Siyang, his expression gradually becoming serious. After a long while, he bowed to Hong, the old eunuch, with both hands.

For the emperor, with his supreme status, to pay respects to a eunuch was, of course, an unbelievable scene. However, Hong Siyang remained unmoved, calmly, even coldly, accepting the bow.

The emperor straightened up, a resolute expression on his face, and said, "What I promise you, what I promise Qing, what I promise the world... in the future, I will let you see it."

…

…

The sky had long since brightened, the thick fog had dissipated, and the rebel camp was on a small hillside behind several rows of green trees at the foot of Mount Dadong. The rebel commander, dressed in black, calmly watched the movements at the mountain gate, his peaceful eyes filled with calmness, without a trace of excitement or elation.

"Don't attack anymore, it's useless," the black-clad commander said peacefully to the people around him, as if talking about mundane family matters, his attitude was gentle, but it didn't allow for doubt.

Yun Zhilan, carrying a long sword, glanced at this mysterious figure, his brow slightly furrowed. Although he didn't agree with the other party's judgment, he didn't say anything to refute it. This siege of Mount Dadong was like a destined thunder that would shock the world, and Yun Zhilan, as a great master of swordsmanship, didn't want to have the slightest impact on the overall situation because of himself.

The mountain gate was quiet. The remaining hundreds of Imperial Guards had retreated behind the mountain gate. However, the five thousand longbowmen of the rebel army had launched several strong attacks, but they had all been repelled by the defensive forces in the mountains. And this time, the attacking forces were composed of experts from the Eastern Yi City as their core.

Yun Zhilan had great confidence in the strength of the Sword Sanctum disciples, thinking that with them leading the bowmen in a strong attack, even if the strongest Tiger Guards of the Qing emperor were hidden in the mountains behind the mountain gate, they would still be torn apart.

Moreover, the most powerful of the Imperial Guards... his younger brother. When he faced the fellow disciples of Dongyi City, would he continue to attack?

…

…

The birds were startled in the morning, and with a rustling sound, they rushed out of the treetops, even tearing off a few green leaves. From this, one could imagine what the birds, who had rested overnight, had been startled into.

What startled the birds was the snow-like light that lit up the sky.

A single snowflake was a knife.

A long knife that kills without mercy.

The sky filled with snow-like light, one could only imagine how many soul-devouring long knives were being wielded at the same time to create such a bleak and terrifying scene.

Knife energy crisscrossed through the forest, instantly and thoroughly spilling out, invading the usually strong, but now extremely fragile trees, shaving off countless bark and trunks, which shot out with crackling sounds, hitting the soil with muffled thuds.

Countless muffled groans and screams rang out in an instant. Blood in the forest was sprayed everywhere without restraint, and severed limbs and arms were thrown into the sky and fell to the ground. The encounter in the first meeting was so tragic that it could be seen that the swordsmen, when forced into the final desperate situation, finally erupted with their strongest power.

Yun Zhilan's pupils contracted, realizing that the black-clad commander's judgment was indeed correct, and he no longer dared to wait, waving his hand to issue a command.

The experts from Dongyi City led the remaining rebel soldiers, reluctantly retreating from the forest. Looking at the situation, it seemed more appropriate to call it a rout.

In just a few moments of the blocking battle, the rebel army attacking the mountain gate suffered 70% casualties, and even five experts from Dongyi City were killed.

Yun Zhilan's heart ached, not knowing what to say. Dongyi City didn't have as many soldiers as Nanqing and Beiqi, and the most powerful were the swordsmen trained by the Sword Sanctum. Even if only five people died, it was still a heavy blow.

He knew that the defensive forces around the Qing Emperor were naturally quite terrifying, but he never expected that the defending forces on the mountain would be so powerful.

"It's the Tiger Guards," the black-clad man on horseback said calmly as he looked at him. "According to legends, the seven Tiger Guards around Little Fan working together can repel Hai Tang... and on this quiet Mount Dadong..."

He smiled slightly: "There are a hundred Tiger Guards."

…

…

(Besides the first experiment, this is really the first time I'm using the timed update function of the Qidian writer system. I finished writing this section at nine o'clock in the morning. And when everyone sees this chapter, it should be four fifty in the afternoon. At this time, I have already boarded the plane to Shanghai.

Yes, Qidian is holding an author's annual meeting, and many guys like me from all over the country are rushing to Shanghai in that direction at this time.

The annual meeting will be held on the 23rd, but I will not go home immediately, because I want to go to the north, because of the previous sentence of "倾城倾国 (Qīngchéng qīngguó, capable of causing the downfall of a city or state)," so until mid-July, my life should be running around on the road.

The reason why I didn't ask everyone for leave in advance... is because I don't need to ask for leave, hahahaha, I bought a laptop with the monthly ticket bonus, um um.

I will maintain updates, and if I can't, I will definitely inform everyone in advance. It's just that I can't maintain a stable update time on the road due to many interference, please forgive me for this.

I am very satisfied with yesterday's chapter. It's not narcissism, it's just that my ability and the effect written are very unified. Any problems? It's really nothing, because there has never been an all-knowing and all-powerful person in this world, I'm just a poor person who codes words. Rationality is not the key, self-consistency is more important. It is basically impossible for the novels that I have to write every day to be free of errors, so in this regard, I have always been extremely good at forgiving myself.

I am a person who is extremely generous to myself and also generous to others. Of course, Fan Xian is a hypocrite, I am not, I am a good person, Amitabha.

Just like the introduction of the Zhuque Ji: This is of course a YY novel, this is just a YY novel. Everyone is happy or excited to read it, and can spend some leisure time after work, that is the source of my sense of achievement.

The nonsense is not counted in the word count.)