Volume One The Carefree Journey Amidst Indistinguishable Leaves Chapter Thirty-One Parting

A double pupil means having two pupils in one eye, an exceedingly rare and strange occurrence. In his past life, Yang Ning had heard of such oddities before—legend had it that the great Shun and Xiang Yu, both figures from history, possessed this trait. The man held a longbow, twice the length of those the archers carried. His double pupils glinted coldly as he glanced at Yang Ning’s group, then swept his gaze over the assembled swordsmen and archers.

The deathly silence lasted only a moment before someone raised a hand, making a simple gesture. Immediately, over a dozen swordsmen stepped forward, forming a semicircle, while the archers lined up, drawing their bows and nocking arrows. This time, however, they aimed directly at the double-pupiled man.

A twitch in the man’s beard, a flash in his eyes—and in the blink of an eye, horse and rider slid more than ten feet sideways. Witnessing this, Yang Ning was astonished; the man’s horsemanship was incredible, man and steed moving as one. The horse itself was powerfully built, larger than any fine steed, with a sleek, jet-black coat.

Almost simultaneously, the archers loosed their arrows. Despite the horse’s apparent bulk, it moved with remarkable agility, easily dodging the volley.

The man reached back and, in a single motion, drew two arrows from his quiver, set them to the bowstring, and pulled back. With a twang and a piercing whistle that nearly split the air, both arrows shot forth like lightning. Two agonized screams rang out—two archers dropped their bows, clutched their throats, and fell backward, each arrow having pierced their necks, killing them instantly.

The air seemed to freeze.

Yang Ning’s heart pounded in shock. To see the double-pupiled man fire two arrows at once and strike two targets dead-on was almost beyond belief.

Though he had witnessed the martial prowess of Lord Wooden and the brown-robed elder these past days, neither compared to the awe inspired by this man’s archery.

He knew these swordsmen and archers were seasoned fighters, yet in so short a time, four had already fallen at the hands of the double-pupiled man.

A look of admiration appeared in Yang Ning’s eyes. What a strange-looking fellow, he thought, but truly a man of exceptional abilities. This skill was truly extraordinary.

Then a chill crept into his heart—he didn’t know whether this man was friend or foe. Though he had just slain the swordsmen and saved him from danger, it felt too fortunate. Such a man would not appear here without reason; there must be more to it.

Only then did he remember Xiao Guang still clung to his back. He set him down, and Xiao Guang, seated on the ground, still had an arrow embedded in his leg. “Should I pull it out?” Yang Ning whispered.

Xiao Guang shook his head. Yang Ning then whispered, “Luck is with us today. It seems a true master has come to our aid. Let’s just hope he’s a friend, not a foe, or we’re finished.”

Xiao Guang’s expression had calmed. Gazing at the double-pupiled man, a faint smile appeared. “I know him,” he said softly.

“What?” Yang Ning was taken aback. “Who is he? His archery is remarkable.”

Xiao Guang seemed to forget his injury, smiling. “Don’t worry, he’s not an enemy. With him here, we’ll be safe.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” Yang Ning asked.

Xiao Guang thought for a moment. “Not exactly a friend... but he won’t harm us.”

“Won’t?” Yang Ning grumbled. “So you’re not even sure?” Suddenly, he noticed something—behind the group of swordsmen and archers, three more riders appeared, as if conjured from thin air. Each was a powerfully built man, clad in black leather and armed with a broadsword at the waist, a longbow in hand, and a quiver on the back.

The scabbards at their waists were jet black, entirely different from ordinary sword sheaths.

Suddenly, the remaining archers turned their bows toward Xiao Guang and, without hesitation, drew and fired. Several arrows streaked through the air like meteors—clearly, they knew the double-pupiled man was too difficult to deal with and aimed to eliminate Xiao Guang first.

Yang Ning’s heart leapt—no matter how skilled that man was, he was too far to help now. Grabbing Xiao Guang by the arm, Yang Ning pulled him aside.

He heard several sharp cracks and glanced over. The arrows had changed course mid-flight, veering away. For a moment he was baffled, but then saw it wasn’t the arrows themselves, but other arrows that had struck them, knocking them off course.

His shock deepened when he saw the three riders with black swords had all fired their bows—their shots had intercepted the arrows.

Only then did the swordsmen realize someone was behind them, and they looked startled, though not chaotic.

The three riders, having loosed their first arrows, drew again and fired in rapid succession. Screams rose from the group as more fell dead in the blink of an eye.

A moment earlier, the swordsmen had been imposing and fierce. Now, they were like prey caught in a hunter’s sights. Though they had the advantage in numbers, they were utterly outmatched.

With a shout, several swordsmen turned and charged the riders. This time the riders did not shoot, but slung their bows and drew their swords, urging their horses forward. Their movements were crisp and efficient, without hesitation or waste.

The two sides were close; in a flash, the swordsmen leapt up, swinging their blades at the riders.

Steel flashed, and before Yang Ning even heard the clash of blades, the swordsmen fell like dead fish, the three horses sweeping past and leaving the bodies twitching on the ground before falling still.

Yang Ning drew a deep breath. The double-pupiled man’s horsemanship and archery were both unparalleled, but those three riders were not far behind. Though not quite his equal, their presence was formidable, their actions precise, their swordsmanship superb.

In an instant, the three riders charged into the fray, blades flashing, scattering the remaining dozen or so men. The swordsmen tried to fight back, but they were no match.

“Do you know those three as well?” Yang Ning asked, glancing at Xiao Guang. “Xiao Guang, if you really know these people, you must introduce me someday—I’d gladly apprentice myself to them.”

He meant it. Whether in archery or horsemanship, Yang Ning admired them deeply. If he could master such skills, no effort would be too great.

Before Xiao Guang could answer, Yang Ning heard hoofbeats behind him. He turned to see the double-pupiled man riding over, now almost upon them.

The man swung down from his horse. Even from a distance, astride his steed, he had seemed imposing, but now, close at hand, Yang Ning realized he was even taller than he’d thought—he barely reached the man’s chest. The man’s body was solidly built, muscles iron-hard and skin dark as steel, like a living tower of iron.

Yang Ning was about to speak, but the man brusquely pushed him aside.

Yang Ning felt as if the man’s arm were made of iron, easily shoving him out of the way. About to protest, he saw the man gently lift Xiao Guang and carefully set him on the horse’s back.

Seated on the horse, Xiao Guang raised his hand and pointed to Yang Ning. “He’s my friend—take him with us!”

But the double-pupiled man had already mounted behind Xiao Guang, holding him with one arm and the reins with the other. Without so much as a glance at Yang Ning, he said coolly, “He won’t die,” then gave the reins a flick and rode off.

Yang Ning stood stunned for a moment, then shouted angrily, “What’s so great about you? Don’t you have any manners?”

Xiao Guang turned and called back, “Little White Rabbit, come to the capital and find me—you must come!” The steed was so swift that in the blink of an eye, it had vanished into the distance.

Yang Ning ran a few steps, then stopped, yelling after them, “Xiao, don’t forget the gold you owe me! Even if you run to the ends of the earth, you still have to pay your debts!” He watched as the horse grew smaller and disappeared from sight.

“Damn it, no loyalty at all,” Yang Ning muttered. “Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you can be rude. You could at least say thanks. That’s how it is nowadays—you try to do a good deed and almost lose your life for nothing.” He fumed, then heard hoofbeats once more. Turning, he saw the three riders gallop past him, not sparing him a glance as they rode after the double-pupiled man.

On the open ground, corpses lay scattered everywhere; not a single soul remained alive.

A chill crept into Yang Ning’s heart. No wonder those men were so arrogant—their skills truly matched their pride. In the space of moments, they had left no one alive.

Yet their methods were ruthless, their martial abilities unmatched—who were these formidable figures? They seemed to have come specifically to rescue Xiao Guang. But who was Xiao Guang, to warrant such powerful allies?

The ancestral hall was silent. Yang Ning made his way over and peered inside through a broken section. The place was deathly still, the floor littered with bodies.

Knife in hand, he crept inside, discovering that the gray-robed fat man and the Northern Han spies had all perished within. Three black-clad swordsmen lay among them, evidently slain in the struggle.

Suddenly, he spotted the giant called Da Meng slumped against the altar, his head lolling, neck torn wide open in a bloody wound—his throat had been cut.

At his side, a large sack lay pinned beneath a corpse, two arrows stuck in its fabric, evidently struck by stray shots.

These men really were unlucky, Yang Ning thought. They had hoped to take a hostage back to Northern Han for a reward, but in the end, all perished here because someone was after Xiao Guang. By a twist of fate, they all died in vain.

He drew closer, dragging the corpse off the sack and patting it. Sure enough, there was a person inside, motionless. The two arrows had pierced through the sack, likely striking the hostage within; whether they survived was uncertain, but judging by the scene, the odds were grim.