Chapter 142 The underground stone chamber, the iron door of the eight-year prison cell was kicked open.

The Hunters Shack leaned in the mountain hollow.

Half the wall had collapsed, and the remaining wooden planks were blackened by rainwater, covered in moss.

Shen Yue kicked open the dilapidated door, which hung by only two hinges; accumulated dust poured down from the crossbeam, choking Zhou Tie and causing him to turn his head and cough.

The shack was piled with moldy animal skins, and a firewood knife with a broken handle leaned in the corner, its surface pitted and eaten away by rust and mold.

Lin Chen's boot soles trampled over the rotten wood shavings, his gaze falling on the stone slab in the center of the floor.

Its color was a shade darker than the surrounding area, its edges were neatly polished, and the gaps were stuffed with hay.

It was well disguised, but it was clearly marked on Zhang Erzhuang's charcoal sketch.

Lin Chen crouched down, channeling True Qi into his fingertips and probing along the edge of the stone slab.

Three inches deep, his fingertips touched an iron pin connected to a spring, and a cold metallic sensation traveled from his fingertips to his wrist.

He twisted it half a turn to the left and pressed down.

The sound of the iron pin loosening was extremely faint, like a needle being pulled from frozen soil.

The stone slab slid open silently, revealing a vertical shaft opening only wide enough for one person to pass through; an iron ladder was embedded in the shaft wall, extending downward step by step, its end swallowed by darkness.

A stench of rot mixed with the bitter, fishy smell of medicinal soup surged up from the shaft, so thick it felt like it was cutting at one's throat.

Zhou Tie's throat bobbed as he swallowed that breath, clutching his short blade, his knuckles turning pale.

Lin Chen looked back at Shen Yue.

"I'll go down first, Zhou Tie follow, you guard the shaft entrance."

Shen Yue nodded, hand on her saber hilt, and retreated to the side of the non-collapsed pillar next to the shaft entrance.

Lin Chen flipped into the shaft.

The rust on the iron ladder scraped against his palms with a coarse texture; with every step down, the stench in the air grew thicker.

The shaft was about two zhang deep; when his boot soles hit solid ground, he was in a stone-paved corridor no more than three feet wide, with water droplets seeping from the walls on both sides, the water stains gleaming coldly in the dim light.

There was a light at the end of the corridor.

It was extremely dim, as if the oil lamp wick was about to burn out, the flame flickering between the stone walls, stretching shadows long and short.

Zhou Tie's boot soles landed half a zhang behind him, and the iron ladder creaked.

The two crept forward, hugging the stone wall.

In the middle section of the corridor, the outline of an iron gate emerged from the darkness.

Three iron wedges were driven into the slots from the outside, one of which was the broken spearhead of Zhou Tie's; the iron shimmered with a cold cyan color, wedged tightly.

A person was crouching next to the gate.

The medicinal bandage on Sun Qi's face had been changed, and there was a scratch on the corner of his right eye that had scabbed over thinly.

He saw Lin Chen's figure emerge from the darkness of the corridor, his palm pressed against the iron face of the gate, silently making a gesture.

Two fingers pointed forward, then separated.

Two people ahead, one at the door, one inside.

Sun Qi pointed to the darkness behind him again, pressing his palm downward.

The other rotating guard had already been taken down by him behind the gate.

Lin Chen nodded, turning back to press his palm toward Zhou Tie.

Zhou Tie understood, switching the short blade from his right hand to his left, spreading and clenching his right hand to loosen his joints, and followed Lin Chen's steps.

When they turned the last corner, the iron door of the stone chamber appeared at the end of the corridor.

A person sat at the door, back against the wall, head tilted to one side, a sword laid horizontally across his knees, the wrapping on the hilt stained dark by hand sweat.

Dozing off.

His breathing was long and heavy, with a bit of snoring leaking from his half-open mouth.

Lin Chen did not stop, his True Qi restrained to the extreme, his boot soles grinding over the wet, slippery stone surface without even splashing a drop of water.

One step.

Two steps.

By the third step, when he reached the guard's side, his right palm had already chopped down.

The palm strike accurately cut into the protruding bone on the back of the neck, True Qi penetrating the body.

The guard's head pitched forward, the snore in his mouth cut off mid-way, and he slid down the wall, collapsing limply onto the corridor floor; the sword rolled off his knees, hitting the stone wall with a dull thud.

Zhou Tie stepped forward, gagged the man, pulled out his belt to tie his hands and feet, his movements as fast as stripping fish bones.

The iron door was not locked.

The door bolt was inserted from the inside, the iron cross-bolt embedded in the slots on both sides; it had been there for a long time, and a layer of red rust covered the surface of the bolt.

Lin Chen pressed his right palm against the iron door, Golden Core True Qi pouring in from his palm.

The iron plate of the door bolt snapped in the middle under the impact of the True Qi, the fragments springing into the stone chamber with a clinking sound.

He raised his right foot and kicked the center of the iron door.

The iron door was kicked open inward, the door leaf slamming against the stone wall, the entire corridor shaking from the muffled thud.

The light in the stone chamber was dim, an oil lamp nearly burned out hanging on an iron hook on the side of a stone pillar, the flame flickering a few times under the impact of the airflow, nearly extinguishing.

A person sprang up from a chair in the corner of the stone chamber.

In his early twenties, wearing a short martial outfit, a standard long saber hanging at his waist, his face filled with the panic and ferocity of someone rudely awakened.

His hand reached for the saber hilt.

Lin Chen had already rushed in the moment the iron door opened.

The black abyss blade was drawn.

The blade path of the fifth form of the Jueying Seven-Kill Blade slashed past the opponent's wrist, the edge slicing through the sleeve, Saber Qi vibrating against the wrist bone, and the long saber, along with half the scabbard, flew out, hitting the stone wall and bouncing twice.

The man's wrist turned outward at an angle under the impact of the Saber Qi, the sound of the joint dislocating crisp and short.

Before he could open his mouth to scream, Lin Chen's left foot had already kicked him in the chest, sending him flying against the stone wall, the back of his head hitting the rough stone surface, his eyes rolling upward as he slid down the base of the wall.

Zhou Tie came in from behind, holding his short blade horizontally, scanning the four corners of the stone chamber, confirming there was no one else before sheathing the blade back into his boot.

The stone chamber was not large.

Three zhang square, the four stone walls were roughly chiseled, water seeping from the chisel marks, the stench of rot and medicinal smell in the air intense to the extreme, as if someone had mixed medicinal dregs and rotten meat and stuffed it into one's nasal cavity.

The floor was covered with blackened straw, under which were chiseled flat stone slabs, dark water stains seeping from the gaps in the stone slabs, indistinguishable as water or something else.

Next to the stone beds were medicine bowls, thin copper tubes, old cloth strips, and several small wooden plaques engraved with dates.

These items were enough to be written into the case file.

There were four stone beds in the corner.

Each stone bed had a person lying on it.

Zhou Tie's footsteps stopped in front of the first stone bed.

The child on the bed was so thin their age could not be determined, their arms so thin the shape of the bones could be seen, a leather strap tied around their wrist, the other end fastened to an iron ring on the stone bed, carving two dark purple grooves.

Their face was sallow, their lips white without a trace of blood, their chest rising and falling extremely lightly, as if they were even economizing on their breathing.

A sound that could not be suppressed rolled in Zhou Tie's throat, his lips bitten tight, his short blade already back in his boot, but his hands were still shaking.

Lin Chen did not stop.

His gaze passed over the first three stone beds and walked to the one at the very back.

A girl was lying on the bed.

She was fifteen or sixteen years old, her hair withered yellow and matted, sticking to her sunken cheeks, her eye sockets so deep they were nothing but two dark shadows under the light.

On her right wrist, the skin under the leather strap revealed dense needle-prick scars, of varying sizes, new and old overlapping, extending from the inside of her wrist to the middle of her forearm, like a withered branch covered in wormholes.

She was keeping her eyes open.

She had woken up the moment she saw Lin Chen kick open the iron door, but she did not scream, nor did she shrink into the bed.

She just slowly moved her other hand under her body, shielding something.

Lin Chen crouched down by the stone bed, his knees touching the layer of blackened straw on the stone slab, the dampness seeping up from his pant legs.

He lowered his voice to the softest level of his life.

"What is your name?"

The girl stared at his face, her gaze moving from his forehead to his chin, then from his chin to the pitch-black saber at his waist.

Her lips moved twice, but there was no sound.

She moved them twice more, and then scraped a few words from the deepest part of her throat, as faint as the flapping of a mosquito's wings.

"Zhang… Xiao Yan."

Lin Chen's fingers, pressed on the saber hilt, tightened and then relaxed.

He took the copper button from his bosom.

It was the size of a fingernail, the pattern on it worn away by time to only a vague outline, but when the lamp light shone on it, one could still barely distinguish the shape of a small flower.

He placed the copper button by her pillow, right next to her withered yellow hair tips.

"Your brother asked me to come and pick you up."

Zhang Xiaoyan's gaze fell on the copper button.

The eyes, deep in their sockets, dilated a circle under the lamplight, her lips trembling violently, along with the muscles in her chin and neck twitching.

The hand she had tucked under her body slowly reached out.

Her five fingers were so thin they were nothing but a skeleton, the skin at the joints worn into a layer of gray calluses by the iron ring.

Her fingertips trembled as they touched the vague little flower pattern on the surface of the copper button.

The moment she touched it, her fingers retracted half an inch.

As if afraid of breaking it.

She reached out again, this time covering it with her entire palm, her five fingers closing, clutching the copper button in her palm.

Tears squeezed out from her dried-up eye sockets, silent, without a sobbing sound, only water flowing from the corners of her eyes down her sunken cheeks, sliding down her cheekbones, dripping onto the blackened straw, soaking into a small dark patch.

She clutched the copper button so hard her entire arm was shaking, her finger bones pushing against the thin skin, leaving them pale and white.

Zhou Tie was already untying the leather straps of the other three children.

For the first one, the belt buckle was too rusted to open, so he pulled out his short blade and cut the side of the strap; when the blade edge brushed against the worn-out skin on the child's wrist, his hand shook even more than the child's.

For the second one, the child was too thin, the strap hanging loosely on their wrist, and it fell off with a tug, the iron ring hitting the edge of the stone bed with a clink.

The third child woke up when he tugged at the leather strap.

The child opened their eyes, saw Zhou Tie's face full of flesh leaning in front of them, opened their mouth, and a broken, airy sound squeezed out of their throat; their body shrank desperately into the stone bed, their back hitting the stone wall, hugging their head with both hands, curling into a ball.

Zhou Tie's short blade was still clutched in his hand.

He looked down at the lamplight reflected on the blade edge, hid the knife behind his back, and stuffed it back into his boot.

He spread his two empty hands, palms up, placing them in front of the child, his voice low and soft.

"Don't be afraid, we are here to save you."

[part:gemini-3.5-flash]

He had never used such a tone in his life, and he didn't even know how to make his throat cooperate. When the words rolled off his tongue, they carried a distinct awkwardness.

The child's fingers peeked out from the gaps around his head, and a pair of eyes stared at Zhou Tie's empty palm through the spaces between his fingers, staring for a long time.

His body was still trembling.

But he didn't shrink back into the corner anymore.

Lin Chen unbuckled the leather strap from Zhang Xiaoyan's wrist, his movements even slower than Zhou Tie's. With each movement, he channeled the warmth of his Golden Core True Qi into her, warming the bruised, purple skin beneath the iron ring for a few breaths.

When Zhang Xiaoyan was helped up from the stone bed by him, her legs held up.

Barely—her knees were shaking, but she stood.

The other three children couldn't stand up. Their legs were so weak it was as if their bones had been removed, and they needed to be supported just to move half a step.

Lin Chen handed Zhang Xiaoyan's hand into Shen Yue's palm.

Shen Yue had come down from the wellhead at some point and was standing at the entrance of the stone chamber. The saber in her hand was already sheathed, and her free hand took hold of Zhang Xiaoyan's ice-cold fingers, closing her palm to wrap them tightly.

Lin Chen bent down and hoisted the smallest child onto his back. The child's weight was shockingly light, as if he were carrying a bundle of dry firewood.

Zhou Tie picked up the second one, and Sun Qi rushed over from the middle of the corridor to take the third.

They returned the way they came.

The vertical shaft.

The iron ladder.

Lin Chen handed the child on his back up first, and Shen Yue caught him at the wellhead.

One by one, all four children were sent out of the vertical shaft.

Moonlight poured in through the partially collapsed wall of the Hunters Shack, illuminating the faces of the four children.

Zhang Xiaoyan looked up, and the moonlight fell into her eyes, casting a thin sheen of watery light over those eyes that resembled dry wells.

Her hand clutching the copper buckle never let go.

The moment Lin Chen climbed out of the wellhead, three short bird calls came from the direction of the mountain ridge.

Two short, one long.

Zhao Gang's warning signal.

Immediately following was the sound of clashing metal, dull and dense, echoing over from the other side of the ridge, mixed with a sudden shout in Zhao Gang's voice.

Lin Chen handed the child on his back to Shen Yue, his voice dropping quick and heavy.

"Take them along the north slope path. Don't stop."

Shen Yue opened her mouth.

Lin Chen had already drawn his black abyss blade.

"Go."

Shen Yue bit her lip, hoisted the smallest child onto her back, and took Zhang Xiaoyan's hand with her left. Sun Qi carried the other two on his back. Under the moonlight, the four figures vanished toward the north slope.

When Zhou Tie climbed out of the wellhead, he was clutching the broad-bladed long saber confiscated from Third Young Master Wang Chengye; his broken spear had long been abandoned in the corridor.

He glanced at Shen Yue's receding figure toward the north slope, then at the unsheathed black abyss at Lin Chen's waist.

Without saying a word, his feet had already followed.

The two of them darted toward the mountain ridge.

The night wind swept in from the north, the scent of pine resin mixed with a metallic, rusty smell of blood.

On the other side of the ridge, saber light flashed and faded under the moonlight.

Zhao Gang's roar erupted from the bushes, accompanied by heavy panting.

"Hold them off, brothers! Don't let these bastards get past!"

The clashing of metal grew denser, interspersed with a dull thud, as if someone had been kicked in the chest and thrown to the ground.

The sole of Lin Chen's boot crushed a loose stone on the ridge. His figure swept through the crowns of the pine trees as the dim golden shimmer on the surface of his black abyss blade lit up in the moonlight.

In the tree shadows below the ridge, Zhao Gang's saber was parrying two people.

But behind him, three more figures were creeping out from the deeper forest, their weapons glinting coldly under the moonlight.

Lin Chen's toes tapped the root of the crooked pine tree at the highest point of the ridge, and his body plummeted down like an arrow.

The dim golden arc of light on the edge of the black abyss blade drew a brief curve as he descended, cleaving down from above the head of the nearest Wang Family guard.

The guard, who had only emerged halfway from the bushes with his pudao still raised at his shoulder, looked up to see a sheet of dim gold bearing down from the moonlight. Before his eyes could even register it, he instinctively rolled to the right.

The Saber Qi shaved past his left shoulder, tearing a gash through his sleeve and lining. A line of blood welled up from the split flesh as he tumbled twice into the pile of dry leaves. His pudao flew from his grip and embedded itself into a pine trunk three paces away.

The other two reacted a bit faster, splitting left and right. They held their sabers across their chests, releasing their True Qi to form a thin protective luster.

Blood Refining Late Stage.

Both of them.

The instant Lin Chen's boots touched the ground, his left foot crushed the dry twigs beneath him, and his right foot had already stepped into the second variation of the Divine Movement Step. His figure slipped between the two of them. Dragging his black abyss blade backhanded, the spine of the blade swept against the saber face of the man on the left, carrying the residual shock of his Golden Core True Qi.

A crisp crack echoed.

The pudao snapped in half. The broken tip flew off, spinning before embedding itself in the dirt. The web of the man's thumb split open, blood spraying from between his fingers as he stumbled back three steps, crashing into his companion behind him.

Zhou Tie rushed down from the ridge two breaths slower than Lin Chen, but the angle at which his broad-bladed long saber cleaved down was far more ruthless.

The flat of the blade struck the shoulder blade of the guard on the right. He didn't use the edge, but the dull thud of metal hitting bone echoed far through the night forest.

The guard's shoulder slumped, his knees buckled, and he collapsed into the pile of dry leaves. His mouth opened, only having time to draw half a breath before the sole of Zhou Tie's boot stomped onto his back.

"Don't move."

Zhou Tie pressed the tip of his broad-bladed saber against the man's nape, his voice squeezing out from between his teeth, carrying a Killing Intent that had not yet dissipated.

On the other side of the ridge, Zhao Gang's roar exploded once more.

"I told you to hold! I'll hack down whoever the fuck retreats first!"

Saber light flashed three times among the tree shadows. Zhao Gang's figure squeezed out from between two Wang Family guards. A gash had been sliced into his left sleeve, the fabric peeling back, though the flesh underneath was unharmed.

He parried one man's slash and tripped another, sending him stumbling. When he looked up and saw Lin Chen's figure sweeping down the slope, his lips split into a grin.

"Inspector, you've come at the perfect time!"

Lin Chen didn't reply, his figure already rushing to Zhao Gang's side.

Sweeping his black abyss blade, the Saber Qi whipped up a layer of dry leaves and gravel along the ground, slamming head-on into the guard who was still struggling to find his footing.

Before the Golden Core-grade Saber Qi, his protective True Qi was as thin as paper, shattering at the slightest touch. The residual force of the Saber Qi slammed into the man's chest, sending him flying over twenty feet. He crashed through a small pine tree as thick as a bowl before the momentum dissipated, leaving him sprawled on the ground, vomiting a mouthful of bloody water.

The last guard, who was still locked in combat with Zhao Gang, saw his companion swept away by a single strike. His saber movements instantly fell into disarray, and he took two steps back.

Giving him no chance to retreat, Zhao Gang pressed forward with his saber, slamming the spine of his blade against the opponent's saber face. The impact numbed the man's fingers, and Zhao Gang immediately followed up with a kick to the back of his knee.

The moment the guard fell to one knee, Zhou Tie rushed in from the side. The flat of his broad-bladed saber struck the guard's wrist, disarming him of his long saber, and he was pinned to the ground.

The mountain hollow fell silent.

The wind blew through the pine crowns, swirling the scattered dry leaves up and letting them fall again beside the several slumped bodies.

Zhao Gang bent over, panting heavily. Resting his saber tip on the ground, he supported his knee with his left hand and cursed under his breath.

"These bastards crept out from the western woods. There were two more than Zhang Erzhuang said."

He straightened up and saw the newly scabbed but now reopened wound on the web of Lin Chen's right hand, gleaming dark red under the moonlight. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.

Lin Chen's gaze did not fall on Zhao Gang. Instead, he looked past his shoulder toward the deeper mountain forest to the northwest.

The direction of the Wang Family Main Residence.

The night wind blew from that direction, the scent of pine resin laced with a faint, almost imperceptible metallic scent of rust.

That scent was so faint that ordinary Martial Artists couldn't detect it at all.

But within the perception range of his Golden Core True Qi, Lin Chen captured an extremely subtle ripple of True Qi.

It was spreading from the northwest along the ridgeline. It was still far away, but it was approaching.

Zhou Tie tied up the last guard and, upon looking up, also noticed the direction of Lin Chen's gaze. His face darkened significantly.

"Inspector, over by the main residence..."

Lin Chen returned his black abyss blade to its sheath and turned to look toward the north slope path.

Shen Yue and Sun Qi, along with the four children, should have already covered three hundred paces.

That was far enough.

"Zhao Gang."

Zhao Gang gripped his saber hilt tightly, his chest still heaving.

"Gather your men, catch up with Shen Yue along the north slope, and escort the children back to the city first."

Zhao Gang's brow furrowed.

"Inspector, you..."

"Zhou Tie and I will cover the rear."

Lin Chen's voice echoed in the hollow, as flat as a stone slab.

Zhao Gang ground his teeth, wanting to say something, but when he saw Lin Chen's right hand—the split web resting on the saber hilt—he swallowed his words.

He turned and waved his saber at the dozen or so brothers scattered around.

"Go, north slope, quickly!"

Their footsteps rustled loudly against the dry leaves as the figures of the dozen or so men vanished into the moonlight along the narrow path of the north slope.

Only Lin Chen and Zhou Tie remained in the hollow.

The wind picked up another notch.

That ripple of True Qi from the northwest was now twenty yards closer than before. Mingling with the night wind, it was deep and long-drawn, rolling over from the other side of the ridgeline with a sense of oppression.

Zhou Tie held his broad-bladed long saber across his chest, his palms slick with sweat, his voice pressed low in his throat.

"Didn't Attendant Zhao Wuya withdraw?"

Lin Chen's thumb rubbed over the cold ridge of his black abyss blade's guard, his gaze pinned to the thick darkness of the night to the northwest.

"Attendant Zhao Wuya withdrew."

His voice was very soft, so soft that only Zhou Tie could catch it.

"The one coming is someone else."

Above the ridgeline, the crown of a pine tree swayed during a brief, windless moment.

The moonlight illuminated the corner of a piece of grayish-white fabric among the tree crown, vanishing in a flash.