Wu Feng stood rooted to the spot. The dull ache in his chest still hadn't fully faded. The heart-tearing pain from moments ago was branded into his mind like a red-hot iron, impossible to shake off.
He glanced at the serene, cloud-calm Qingyangzi in front of him, then turned to look back at the gates of Black Tiger Stronghold. A sudden pang of reluctance hit him—he had only claimed the top seat two and a half years ago.
But the thought of his heart condition erupting in three to five years, stripping away his current strength, made his blood run cold. The bandit king's throne would not stay empty for long. Someone would surely come to seize it.
He had climbed to power by stepping over the corpse of the previous master. Naturally, others would be willing to step over his corpse to take his place.
Wu Feng drew a deep breath, forcing down every ripple in his heart. The cold, hard mask of the bandit king returned to his bronze face.
He slowly loosened his grip on the tiger-head blade and spoke in a hoarse, resolute voice: "This lord will go with you."
A flicker of approval flashed in Qingyangzi's eyes, but he said nothing more. He simply nodded lightly. "The Great King is truly decisive."
"Cut the chatter!" Wu Feng waved his hand impatiently, pulled his shirt back on, and hoisted the tiger-head blade onto his shoulder. "If I'm going with you, when do we leave?"
"The path of immortal cultivation waits for no one," Qingyangzi replied as he stroked his long beard, his gaze drifting toward the winding trail down the mountain. "The sooner, the better."
Wu Feng didn't hesitate for even a second. "In that case, let's leave right now!"
Qingyangzi looked slightly surprised, but he still nodded. "Very well!"
Wu Feng turned to the crowd of bandits behind him. His sharp gaze locked onto a burly man with a face full of horizontal scars. "Zhao Hu!"
"Subordinate is here!" Zhao Hu stepped forward at once, dropped to one knee, and answered in a booming voice. "Great King!"
"After I leave, Black Tiger Stronghold will be in your hands," Wu Feng said slowly. "I know what you're capable of. You're just a little too hot-headed. Watch that temper from now on. Guard the mountain well for me. Maybe this lord will come back for a visit one day!"
Zhao Hu kowtowed heavily, his voice firm and loyal. "This subordinate obeys! I will protect the stronghold with my life and await the Great King's return!"
The surrounding bandits lowered their heads one after another. Their faces showed complicated emotions—shock, unease, and a faint, hard-to-detect restlessness.
Wu Feng patted Zhao Hu on the shoulder, then turned to Qingyangzi. "Old Daoist, let's go!"
Qingyangzi smiled faintly and stroked his beard as he nodded. "Good. Follow this poor Daoist down the mountain."
With that, he took the lead and began walking slowly down the steep mountain path.
Wu Feng shouldered his tiger-head blade and followed close behind. His steps were steady and firm. He never once looked back at the stronghold, as if the power and fame he had spent ten years of bloodshed to earn were nothing more than passing clouds.
Behind him, the bandits' farewell shouts rose up, but Wu Feng ignored them completely. His eyes stayed locked on Qingyangzi's back ahead, cold and hard as forged iron.
The mountain trail was rough and treacherous. After walking for roughly the time it takes to burn half an incense stick, Wu Feng's confusion grew with every step downward. Finally he couldn't hold it in any longer. "Old Daoist, are we seriously just walking all the way down like this?"
Qingyangzi kept walking without slowing or turning around. "What else would we do?"
"Aren't you supposed to be an immortal cultivator?" Wu Feng frowned, his tone full of bewilderment. "Shouldn't you be flying on qi, covering a thousand li in a single step? Why are you trudging along like some ordinary mortal?"
Qingyangzi stopped, turned around, and looked at him with a gentle smile. He explained patiently, "This poor Daoist can indeed fly on qi, but the path of cultivation values steady progress and a mind free of distractions. A journey of a thousand li begins with a single step. Walking down this mountain one foot at a time is both this poor Daoist's long-standing practice and a tempering of your own character.
"Your nature is arrogant and vicious, your killing intent far too heavy. Only by calming your heart can you sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and step through the gate of immortal cultivation. If you cannot even walk down this mountain path with a quiet mind, how can you hope to walk far on the road of cultivation?"
Wu Feng curled his lip in disdain, readjusted the blade on his shoulder, and said impatiently, "Enough, enough. Spare me the big speeches. Hurry up and stop wasting time."
Qingyangzi shook his head helplessly, said nothing more, and continued down the path.
Wu Feng followed right behind. The two of them walked on in silence, one in front and one behind.
When they finally reached the foot of the mountain and stepped onto the main road, Qingyangzi suddenly stopped and turned to look at Wu Feng. A trace of curiosity shone in his eyes. "You really are decisive. You said you'd leave and left without a single moment of reluctance?"
Wu Feng snorted coldly. "Reluctant? Isn't that all thanks to you? You went and made my heart condition public knowledge for everyone to hear. Otherwise, why would this lord be in such a rush to leave?"
He paused, his gaze turning back toward Black Tiger Stronghold. His eyes were sharp as knives, his voice carrying a ruthless clarity. "Since I've decided to follow you and cultivate, it means I have to abandon everything in the stronghold. But those men up there are all bloodthirsty villains who live by the blade. All they care about is profit and power.
"Once they confirm I'm really gone, what do you think will happen in the mountain?"
Qingyangzi stroked his long beard and thought for a moment before answering slowly, "I'm afraid… they will immediately start fighting over the position of bandit king."
"Exactly!" Wu Feng let out a cold laugh, his tone laced with mockery and a deep understanding of human nature. "Plenty of people in the stronghold have their eyes on that white tiger throne. Several of the leaders never accepted me taking the seat in the first place. They only held back because they feared my ruthlessness. Now that I'm leaving, they have nothing left to fear. They'll jump out at once to fight for the top spot.
"If I stayed in the stronghold even a few more days, the danger would only grow. Those bastards may act respectful and reluctant on the surface, but did any of them actually step forward to beg me to stay? Not one. They're all hoping I disappear as soon as possible so they can take my place.
"Rather than stay and watch them scheme, rip off their masks, slaughter each other, or even turn around and plot against me, it's better to leave early and keep my eyes clean.
"Who knows—right now those bastards have probably already started fighting."
A look of admiration flashed in Qingyangzi's eyes. "You see things with great clarity."
"Obviously!" Wu Feng sneered coldly. "In this chaotic world, anyone who can't see clearly has long since become rotten meat in a pile of corpses."