The mule cart jolted even more violently along the rugged mountain path, its wheels grinding over gravel, emitting a teeth-grating creak.

This so-called “Peaceful Road” was a hundred times harder to travel than the official highway from last time. The path was narrow, flanked by dense, impenetrable woods. Withered, yellow branches stretched toward the sky like ghostly claws, making it difficult for sunlight to pierce through.

Inside the cart, Zhao Rui was tossed about until he felt dizzy and nauseous, his face pale, yet he uncharacteristically didn’t utter a single complaint. He just clutched his book chest tightly, his ears perked up, listening intently to every sound outside, like a frightened rabbit.

Su Ming still walked beside the cart. His breathing was steady and deep, each step landing on the soft, decaying leaves with almost no sound. His mind was completely immersed in comprehending the Aura Concealment Art.

That faint glimmer in his Dantian no longer needed to be deliberately sought; it was like a small lamp within his body, moving with his thoughts. He was trying to control the light of this lamp, causing the warm flow of Yang Energy that originally diffused around his body to slowly contract inward, like a receding tide, clinging tightly to his own skin.

This process was extremely mentally taxing, requiring utmost concentration.

A long while later, Su Ming slowly withdrew from this state of feeling.

“Disciple, how does it feel? Do you feel your own presence diminishing, almost turning into a tree by the roadside?” Lin Yu’s voice rang in his mind, carrying a hint of examination.

“Still far from it,” Su Ming responded inwardly. “This energy flow is still too scattered, like smoke that can’t be grasped.”

“Good, you know your limits. Keep practicing. Only when you can condense this living person’s Yang Energy to be roughly like a stone will you barely be considered to have passed the first lesson of my ‘Way of Survival’.”

Su Ming stopped dividing his attention, pouring all his focus into controlling his breath.

His perception, sharpened by this intense concentration, became exceptionally keen. He could “hear” the different whistling sounds of the wind passing through the forest, “smell” the earthy scent of earthworms turning over beneath the soil, and “feel” the muscles of a startled wild rabbit tensing up in the distance.

Just as the mule cart rounded a mountain ridge, Su Ming’s footsteps suddenly halted.

Into his “net,” an inharmonious discordant note had intruded.

Not the sound of wind, not the roar of a beast.

But a very regular, deliberately suppressed sound of footsteps. One, two, three… at least five people. There were also the faint sounds of metal rubbing against leather, and… a faint, mixed scent of human odor, sweat, and cheap liquor.

This aura was very familiar to him.

“Master!” Su Ming cried out urgently in his mind.

“Northwest direction, about two hundred paces! Five people, they’re the bandits from last time. Drive the cart behind the rocks in the gully to the right!” Lin Yu’s voice reached Su Ming’s mind at the same moment he called out.

A cold sweat instantly broke out on Su Ming’s back.

He abruptly reached out, pressing a hand against the mule cart’s shaft.

“Stop!”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable calmness.

“What’s wrong?” Old Qian was startled, instinctively pulling on the reins.

Zhao Rui inside the cart immediately stuck his head out, asking nervously, “What happened? Su Ming, is something wrong?”

Su Ming didn’t answer. He tilted his head to listen, his clear eyes fixed intently on the dense woods to the northwest. After a moment, he lowered his voice, speaking as quickly as possible, “Uncle Qian, drive the cart behind those rocks in the gully over there! Quick! Don’t make a sound!”

Old Qian and Zhao Rui’s faces instantly turned pale as sheets.

The experience from last time flooded their minds. Old Qian’s hands trembled like a sieve, but his survival instinct made him comply immediately. Shaking uncontrollably, he drove the mule, moving the cart off the small path and hiding it behind a cluster of huge rocks.

“Get down! Get down and lie flat!” Su Ming hissed in a low voice. He was the first to jump off the mule cart, pulling the still somewhat dazed Zhao Rui to hide in a crevice between the rocks and a thicket of thorns, pressing him firmly to the ground.

Zhao Rui trembled all over, his teeth chattering audibly. He wanted to say something, but was stopped by Su Ming’s icy gaze. That look said: If you want to live, shut up.

Zhao Rui immediately clamped a hand tightly over his own mouth, his eyes wide with terror.

Old Qian also scrambled over, crawling and stumbling. The three of them, plus one mule, held their breath, huddled in the narrow rock crevice, their hearts pounding wildly.

Old Qian gently stroked the mule’s neck. The equally restless mule, sensing its owner’s reassurance, slowly calmed down.

Soon, the sound of footsteps grew from far to near.

“Damn it! This godforsaken place is really fucking hard to walk!” a coarse, grating voice cursed angrily.

“Shut up!” another gloomy voice rang out. It was the scar-faced man. “Keep your eyes peeled, all of you! Don’t miss the government soldiers if they’re nearby!”

Hearing this voice from behind the rock, Zhao Rui’s body stiffened violently, fear nearly suffocating him.

He stared fixedly at Su Ming’s profile.

Su Ming lay flat on the ground, motionless, his cheek pressed against the cold earth, eyes slightly closed, as if he had merged with the surrounding soil and rocks. That composure was worlds apart from the terror Zhao Rui felt at that moment.

Summoning strength from somewhere, Zhao Rui imitated Su Ming, burying his face in the fallen leaves, desperately suppressing the sobs in his throat.

The figures of five mountain bandits appeared on the small path, each holding gleaming weapons. They scanned their surroundings vigilantly, their gazes sharp as hawks.

One of the bandits walked near the rocks where they were hiding, stopped, and undid his belt.

“I’m taking a piss.”

A stream of warm liquid splashed against tree roots not far away, making a sizzling sound.

The hearts of Su Ming and the other two rose to their throats. Zhao Rui could even smell the pungent odor of urine, his stomach churning violently.

The scar-faced man urged impatiently, “Hurry up! Stop dawdling!”

The urinating bandit pulled up his pants, muttering, “Bad luck!”

As he turned, he kicked a stone. The stone rolled over with a clatter, stopping right in front of Su Ming’s fingertips.

Su Ming’s body remained utterly still; even his eyelids didn’t flutter.

The bandits walked away, cursing and grumbling, their footsteps gradually fading into the woods in the other direction.

A long silence ensued.

No one knew how much time passed. Only when birdsong resumed in the forest did Old Qian become the first to collapse limply to the ground, as if all his bones had been pulled out, panting heavily.

“Gone… are they gone?”

Su Ming slowly raised his head, listened intently for a moment, then nodded gently. “Gone.”

Only then did Zhao Rui remove the hand covering his mouth, collapsing onto the ground as if drained of all strength, the clothes on his back soaked through with cold sweat. He looked up at Su Ming, his expression incredibly complex. There was relief at having survived a disaster, lingering fear that wouldn’t dissipate, but more than anything, a kind of dependence and trust he couldn’t quite articulate himself.

Old Qian stood up shakily, walked over to Su Ming, his lips trembling. “Xiao Ming… you… how did you know they were coming?”

Su Ming stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and calmly offered an excuse he had already prepared. “When I was little, I went hunting in the mountains with Second Brother and learned a bit about listening to the wind to determine positions. Just now, the sound of the wind was wrong; it didn’t sound like it came from the woods.”

This explanation was half-truth, half-lie, but it was enough to get by.

Old Qian nodded, not fully understanding, but his gaze at Su Ming was filled with awe.

“Crisis averted. ‘Way of Survival’ practical lesson two, passed with full marks!” Lin Yu let out a long sigh of relief. “Disciple, your on-the-spot reaction and crisis management skills already possess ten percent of your master’s style. Good, good.”

Zhao Rui also got up. He walked over to Su Ming, opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but not a single word came out. Finally, he just lowered his head and mumbled two barely audible words.

“…Thanks.”

Su Ming glanced at him but said nothing.

For the rest of the journey, no one dared to be the slightest bit negligent.

By evening, the outline of a majestic city wall finally appeared on the horizon, and the three of them could finally let their hearts settle completely.

The official road paved with bluestone, the coming and going of pedestrians, the bustling clamor of traffic… all these worldly, mundane aspects of human life felt incredibly warm and safe at that moment.

They had finally arrived again, at Qingshi Town.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep