The drizzle drowned the world in sound. Darkness thickened across Dingzhou City, where the last scattered lanterns were quietly dimming. The remnants of light flickered like a lone sail in a storm—faint, fragile, and far away.
Du Gongfu marched through the night with nine of his men, the rain lashing against their cloaks as they moved with grim determination.
In their midst was Du Xiaoyan.
Her arms were bound behind her back. Barefoot, wearing nothing but a thin summer dress, she was completely drenched. Rain streamed down her face, merging with the tears she didn't even notice anymore. Her left cheek was swollen with a fresh five-finger mark, and her steps were unsteady—each time she slowed, the black-clad men at her sides shoved her forward with force.
Her small feet were bleeding, scraped and torn by the road, though the blood was quickly washed away by the puddles she stepped through.
Du Gongfu planned to bring her back to Tianping Manor that very night. Although the city gates of Dingzhou were long shut, that posed no problem for a martial master like him. Scaling a wall was a matter of minutes.
Du Xiaoyan's expression was blank, her eyes hollow. But inside, her heart was screaming:Qin-lang… Where are you? I didn't betray you. But Father… he's going to kill me before the ancestral shrine. Qin-lang, I can't let go of you. No matter who you are, no matter what the world calls you… You were willing to risk your life to save me. I know nothing else—only that I belong to you… Qin-lang… can you hear me?
Suddenly, Du Gongfu came to a stop.
He raised a hand. Instantly, all his men halted behind him.
The rain had intensified, its veil now thick enough to blur the line between earth and sky.
And then Du Gongfu saw him.
A solitary figure stood in the middle of the long street, a shadow beneath the deluge. He stood like a javelin, upright and unmoving, his long hair plastered to his face and shoulders by the relentless rain.
Half his face was lit by the faint red glow of a glazed lantern hanging under a distant eave; the other half was swallowed by darkness.
Du Xiaoyan recognized him instantly. Her heart raced wildly, eyes bursting into a desperate, radiant gleam. If the men at her sides weren't restraining her, she would have run into his arms and wept.
Qin-lang… You came. You waited here for me… I knew it. I knew you'd never abandon me.
The boy standing in the rain was none other than San Shao—the infamous Qin Ren.
"Who are you?" Du Gongfu's voice boomed across the downpour, his words so forceful that rain swerved away from him in a ten-foot radius.
Qin Ren raised his head slowly, eyes lost in the descending rain.
"I said, who are you? Why do you block the path of Du Gongfu?" the elder barked again, his patience wearing thin.
In the world of Da Qin's martial circles, Du Gongfu was no second-rate master. Though not the strongest, his reputation as the Most Righteous Man Under Heaven earned him respect even among the likes of Qin Xiaoyao and Tie Kongshan.
Now, to be ignored by a boy—an outlaw no less—was beyond insult.
Qin Ren finally smiled. "Me? I'm the one you've all been searching for. The so-called No. 1 lecher in the empire. The disgrace of the martial world."
He lowered his head and met Du Gongfu's glare with a hint of mockery. "Funny, isn't it? You've been hunting me like a dog for weeks, and now I'm right in front of you… and you don't even recognize me?"
Du Gongfu's expression shifted. His jaw clenched. "You're… Qin Ren?"
The boy didn't answer directly. Instead, he turned to Du Xiaoyan and spoke gently, "I'm here, Xiaoyan. Don't be afraid. I'll take you away. You're my woman. No one touches you."
Du Xiaoyan nearly fainted from joy. At that moment, she belonged to him entirely—heart, soul, and body. No matter his reputation, no matter what the world said—he had come for her.
What she didn't know was that behind those tender words lay another truth: "No one may harm you… except me."
Yes. Qin Ren was the kind of man who would never allow his women to be hurt by others. Whether or not he loved them was beside the point—possession was everything.
When Tu Hongfei found him earlier that evening and told him that Du Gongfu had come personally to apprehend Du Xiaoyan—likely to execute her—Qin Ren didn't hesitate. He left Tu behind and used his fastest movement technique to intercept Du Gongfu's route out of the city.
Now Du Gongfu watched his daughter's blissful expression, stirred by the outlaw's honeyed lies, and felt a rage boil within him.
"Break him!" he roared.
The nine black-clad warriors moved like lightning.
Three soared through the air, swords glinting with a foot-and-a-half of glowing qi, their blades descending from above. Three rushed low, their blades slicing toward Qin Ren's legs, and the final trio aimed straight for his torso.
Their coordination was flawless. A web of swords closed in from all directions, leaving Qin Ren no path of retreat.
Qin Ren smiled.
It wasn't the cold, mocking smile he wore in battle. No, this one was gentle—warm, even—like spring sunlight on a quiet morning.
Then he lifted his hand… and casually struck the air.
He didn't target a single enemy. It was a palm strike sent into the void, aimed at nothing in particular.
And yet… something happened.
The space in front of him twisted—subtly, mysteriously. No one could see the change, but they felt it. Every man watching sensed the distortion.
Especially the nine swordsmen.
Suddenly, Qin Ren's figure seemed to blur. Like a fish in water—clear to the eye, impossible to grasp.
They had calculated the distance. Their blades were locked on target. But as they moved in for the kill… their strikes faltered.
Because no matter how they tried… they couldn't reach him.
Their blades hovered mid-air. None dared strike. If they missed, they'd expose deadly openings.
In that single frozen heartbeat, Qin Ren moved.
He floated like a feather—light, effortless, faster than lightning.
In the blink of an eye, he circled them, striking nine times.
Thud. Thud. Thud…Nine soft impacts echoed through the rain.
And then—bodies began to fall apart.
Limbs. Flesh. Bones.
Exploding outward like blooming roses—nine grotesque, crimson blossoms unfolding in slow motion.
Every drop of blood, every shred of tissue, fell with cinematic clarity.
As their corpses dissolved into the rain, Qin Ren walked forward slowly, hands clasped behind his back, smiling at Du Gongfu.
The nine blood roses faded behind him, merging with the muddy water.
"The sword technique they used," Qin Ren said calmly, "I recognize it—Fast Blade Style of the Demon Sect's Mist Veil School."
He chuckled. "So, the so-called most righteous man under heaven now keeps company with demonic scum. You dare judge me? You dare judge Xiaoyan?"
Du Gongfu's face darkened. He said nothing. Wordlessly, he reached for the long black cloth bundle on his back.
From it, he drew a five-foot hammer—black as coal.
Qin Ren raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh? The famous Heaven's Artisan Du Gongfu, now moonlighting as a blacksmith? Planning to open a weapons shop in this chaos?"
Du Gongfu grunted. With a twist of his wrists, click-click!—two golden axe blades sprang from either side of the hammer's head.
"You should be honored, Qin Ren," he said coldly. "It's been thirteen years since I used both blades in battle. Most men I've faced haven't even earned one."