Chapter 101: The Judgment of Life and Death Revisited

The first to be startled by the commotion was naturally Jin Mailang, who had already reached the front of the procession. "What is going on?"

Yan Jiu replied, "Someone is PK-ing up ahead."

Jin Mailang frowned. "Where is Baili Feng? What is he doing? Has he not cleared this ten-mile stretch of road?"

Yan Jiu laughed. "This appears to be an unforeseen situation, not something the Senior Brother could have anticipated."

Jin Mailang asked no more, for he, too, could see that this was indeed an unexpected event.

A group of six men in black, their faces masked, were hunting down a large man wearing a cloak. Despite being outnumbered six to one, the large man held his ground with his heavy broadsword against their six longswords. Though he managed to fend them off, it was clear to any observer that he was at the end of his tether. He was covered in blood and bore multiple wounds; against the light, agile swords of his attackers, his heavy, cumbersome broadsword was clearly at a disadvantage.

Furthermore, the six men in black possessed excellent light-foot skills and agile swordplay, constantly using rotation tactics to exhaust him.

Jin Mailang observed the marks on the ground. Most of the grass had been sheared away by the blades, and the struggle was moving from the east, which meant this incident had not originated from the Happy Forest in the north.

Jin Mailang glanced at Yan Jiu, who understood and turned to look back at the procession.

His expression conveyed everything. All the members of the Famous Sword Villa silently channeled their internal energy, standing on high alert. If this group dared to cause trouble, they had at least a hundred ways to deal with them while ensuring the carriages reached the Happy Forest safely.

Alas, it was all in vain. As Yan Jiu signaled, the large man let out a sudden, agonized cry and collapsed to the ground. Every one of the hundred-plus people present saw it clearly: three of the six longswords had pierced the man’s chest, back, and ribs from different angles.

Although players in "Dynasty" calculated health based on constitution, once a body was pierced, death was certain. It was like having 100 points of constitution against an opponent with 50 points of attack; the first strike would cause bleeding, but once your constitution dropped below 50, a determined strike would inevitably run you through.

Thus, no one doubted the reality of the scene.

Having succeeded in their encirclement, the six masked men moved as swiftly as they had arrived. The leader of the group bowed to Jin Mailang from a distance, a gesture of apology for the disturbance. Jin Mailang returned a stiff, emotionless bow, acknowledging the greeting. Under normal circumstances, he would not have been so courteous, but today was a grand wedding, and he did not want to invite unnecessary trouble.

The leader waved a hand, and the six men executed the "Eight Steps Chasing the Cicada" light-foot skill, darting away toward the west. From afar, they looked like six swallows skimming the grass—their formation was as orderly as it was pleasing to the eye.

Any observant person could see that these six were experts of at least the fourth rank, well-trained and clearly accustomed to working together.

If that were not shocking enough, the last man in the line made everyone gasp. As he sped away, he suddenly flicked two fingers backward, and a red light whistled through the air.

*Thwack.*

The red light struck the chest of the fallen man. When everyone saw what it was, their faces turned pale.

It was a cinnabar brush!

"Judgment of Life and Death, God of Retribution; judge life and death, debts must be paid!"

Running into the "Judgment of Life and Death" on a wedding day was certainly a dark omen. Even Yan Jiu’s smile vanished. He turned to Jin Mailang, his expression asking, "Boss, what do we do now?"

Jin Mailang did not answer, his gaze fixed on the corpse, deep in thought.

A fourth-rank Shaolin ascetic monk among the distinguished guests stepped forward, his eyes also on the body. "This man’s name is Nangong You."

Faced with a high-ranking Shaolin monk, even Jin Mailang was respectful. "Master Gaoqiao, you recognize this man?"

Gaoqiao nodded. "He was a third-rank incense master of the Nangong Clan. Before I joined Shaolin, we trained together and often exchanged carrier pigeons."

Jin Mailang remained silent for a moment before saying coldly, "But their performance was not very clever."

The others were astonished and grew even more tense; clearly, there was something strange about this road.

Yan Jiu asked, "Boss, you mean..."

Jin Mailang replied coldly, "Do you know this Nangong You?"

Yan Jiu shook his head.

Jin Mailang continued, "And do you recognize the Master?"

Yan Jiu immediately put on a flattering smile. "Master Gaoqiao is a high-ranking Shaolin monk; who doesn't know the reputation of the Shaolin Sect..." He stopped mid-sentence, realizing the implication.

The "Judgment of Life and Death" was famous for only pursuing big cases and high-profile targets. Killing an unknown like Nangong You would be a net loss for them. Were they so foolish? And why use six fourth-rank experts to deal with a nobody from the Nangong Clan?

Six fourth-rank experts were enough to deal with anyone—even Jin Mailang would feel threatened.

The only logical explanation was that the "Judgment of Life and Death" was likely targeting the Famous Sword Villa, even if they had just killed a member of the Nangong Clan.

Jin Mailang’s voice dropped. "Steward, Fourth Miss, keep your eyes sharp. Notify Baili Feng to leave the Happy Forest and meet us; keep a close watch for suspicious individuals along the route. Those on the flanks, use your awareness skills—if there is any movement, sound the alarm immediately. All Villa members, activate your sect modes and show your names. If you see anyone else, kill them..."

If Zhang He had been present, his confidence would surely have been crushed. With these orders, the wedding procession became a hair-trigger trap; approaching it would be nearly impossible.

Dazzling names soon appeared above everyone’s heads. Jin Mailang nodded in satisfaction.

There were those who did not display names: the guests from other sects at the rear, and the bride, Third Miss. It didn't matter for her, as she was hidden in the carriage under a red veil—and she was the safest point, being quite skilled herself.

Jin Mailang turned and said respectfully, "Master, for the sake of safety, I shall form a team with you and your friends. Please activate team mode so we can coordinate."

Gaoqiao’s expression was pensive. "Brother Jin, you should form a team with your friends from Wudang and the Beggar Sect. I will not be joining you; I am staying behind."

Jin Mailang was surprised. "Master, why?"

Gaoqiao’s face was grim. "Because these people from the Judgment of Life and Death are not after your Villa."

Yan Jiu couldn't help but ask, "Then who are they after?"

Gaoqiao replied calmly, "Me."

Everyone was stunned. Gaoqiao explained, "I said it before: this Nangong You was once my friend."

Without waiting for Jin Mailang to speak, he added, "Brother Jin, it is not appropriate to see blood on a wedding day. You go ahead; I will catch up with you in Jiangdu City later. As for those from the Judgment of Life and Death, they cannot threaten me."

It was true—not even six fifth-rank Tang Sect elders could easily finish off a fourth-rank Shaolin ascetic.

The procession continued with its drums and music along the stone path, leaving the monk alone in the wilderness. The Shaolin Sect was renowned as the leader of the Central Plains martial arts, possessing profound and unrivaled techniques.

Gaoqiao neither patrolled nor retreated. He sat cross-legged on the stone path, closed his eyes, and began to meditate with palms pressed together. On the surface, he looked like a monk chanting, but in reality, he was channeling his "Nurturing" realm internal attribute, capable of sensing a mosquito within a 150-meter radius.

Most players focused on internal energy, strength, or agility, rarely developing the constitution attribute. Yet he had not only developed it but reached the Nurturing realm—a testament to the power of Shaolin. According to the Shaolin system, his meditation not only calmed his mind but extended his perception by another 50 meters. The longer he sat, the clearer and more precise his awareness became.

Gaoqiao’s calculation was correct. The six masked men returned.

He opened his eyes; the six men were already on a ridge 20 meters away.

The irony was that the six men seemed particularly wary of him. They neither advanced nor retreated, standing in a stalemate, pitting their focus, will, and patience against his.

This was one of the highest realms of martial arts. Yet, for some reason, Gaoqiao felt something was wrong.

Normally, timing was everything. Get it right, and you strike a fatal blow; get it wrong, and all is lost.

When it came to patience, no one could compare to a Shaolin monk. You stand, he sits; you hold your weapon in focus, he holds his scriptures in meditation. In a long standoff, the one who eventually suffers is you.

Seven or eight minutes had passed. The six men in black had not attacked, and they seemed even more patient than Gaoqiao himself.

A terrifying thought crossed Gaoqiao’s mind: "Could I have guessed wrong? Are they really after the Famous Sword Villa?"