Wu Tong slowly dismounted, patted his horse's rump, and the animal trotted off at an easy pace.Fixing a piercing gaze on the bandits, he said coldly,
"What's the meaning of this? Robbing military pay on an official road—you're lawless beyond measure!"
The bandit leader, second-in-command of the Huanggang Dabieshan stronghold, was named Qin Biao. Seeing Wu Tong arrive, he felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of anger and barked,
"Brat, stay out of this, or you won't keep your life!"
Wu Tong thought to himself, Such an insolent cur, daring to belittle me! Looks like I'll have to give him a lesson.He drew out his folding fan with a swish, fanning himself leisurely, exuding the air of a refined scholar. With a tone as if offering casual advice, he said,
"The weather's hot—easy to get overheated. You're always threatening to take my life… let's see if you actually have the skill to do it."
Hearing this, Qin Biao was even more infuriated—his words had been brushed aside as though they were nothing. He roared,
"Boy, your tongue is sharp. Let's send you to the Western Paradise!"
At his order, the bandits charged with blades raised. Wu Tong flicked his fan and employed his fan technique. His movements were graceful as clouds drifting in the wind. He closed the fan with a snap and met the three attackers head-on, parrying with the fan before tossing it into the air. His hands shot out like lightning—three rapid palm strikes from the left, center, and right. Three figures were instantly hurled back. The fan dropped from above, and he caught it smoothly, just in time to face two more incoming attackers. Spinning aside, he let them miss, then tapped each on the head with a flick of the fan—two thuds, and both dropped, clutching their skulls.
Four or five more big men came rushing in. Wu Tong unleashed the move "Endless Flow," weaving left and right, slipping past their blows. Sometimes he blocked with the fan in his right hand while striking with his left palm, sending one man flying; other times he guarded with the left and struck with the right. In moments, the ground was littered with groaning men. Wu Tong had restrained his strength, not seeking lives.
Flicking open the fan with a swish, he twirled it idly, speaking with mockery:
"If you don't clear out now, none of you will be keeping your lives today."
Qin Biao's face darkened—he caught the sting in Wu Tong's words. He demanded,
"Little brother, your skill is extraordinary—may I know your name?"
Wu Tong smiled calmly, fanning himself with elegance:
"My mouth speaks to Heaven, my conduct honors the rites. I do not change my name in life, nor my surname in travel—I am Wu Tong."
Qin Biao's heart jolted—could this be the very youth who had shone so brightly at the recent Anti-Rebel Assembly in Hongzhou's Pavilion of Prince Teng? He said aloud,
"So, you're Wu Tong of Guangzhou in Lingnan. Today's meeting proves your reputation true. Mountains and rivers meet again—today's grudge will be settled another time. Until then!"
With a sharp whistle, he led his men away.
Wu Tong watched them flee in disarray, a faint smile playing at his lips. He tapped the closed fan against his palm as if the fight had been nothing more than sport. Around him, the official road was still in chaos. The soldiers guarding the military pay had yet to recover from their shock—one youth had, almost casually, routed the feared Dabieshan bandits.
The Tang officer leading the escort, Xiang Qiang, strode forward and bowed deeply.
"Many thanks, Young Master Wu, for your righteous aid in saving our military pay from the hands of thieves. Your kindness is life-saving."
Wu Tong returned the bow politely.
"Commander Xiang, no thanks are necessary. For those of the martial world, chivalry is a duty. With the realm in crisis, military funds are crucial—they mustn't be lost to petty criminals. It is you and your men, riding day and night to guard these funds, who deserve admiration."
Xiang Qiang, a Ren Yong Commandant (upper rank of the ninth grade), was tasked with the military payroll's safety—a mission with no room for error. Wu Tong's words stirred respect in him.
"Young Master Wu, your heart holds the nation. You are a true hero of our time. This money, donated by righteous men of the south, is bound for Yongqiu to aid the army—it must reach there intact."
Wu Tong frowned slightly in thought.
"If that's the case, these funds are critical for the anti-rebel forces. If there are bandits or enemy ambushes, the road ahead will be dangerous indeed."
At that moment, Zhao Rou rode up and, hearing this, nodded.
"Brother Tong, since we're heading north anyway, why don't we travel with the Tang army? We can help guard the military funds and have each other's support on the road."
Wu Tong smiled.
"Commander, if you're willing, the two of us will ride with your troops and help guard the payroll."
Xiang Qiang was first surprised, then overjoyed.
"That would be excellent! With Young Master Wu and Miss Zhao with us, even the Black Dragon Sect and thieves won't dare make a move!"
The troops reorganized, and Wu Tong and Zhao Rou rode alongside them toward Yongqiu.
Reaching the outskirts of Yongqiu, the men cheered at the sight of the city gates—until a large force approached from behind, flying the banners of "Yan." Wu Tong's heart sank.
"Commander, the rebels are upon us! Get your men into the city. I'll hold them off!"
Xiang Qiang clasped his fists.
"We are in your debt, Young Master Wu!"
Wu Tong turned to Zhao Rou.
"When I charge them, you slip away to the fork ahead and wait for me. Be careful!"
She nodded, but as Wu Tong spurred his horse forward with a shout—"Out of my way if you want to live!"—she followed close behind.
The Yan soldiers laughed at the lone rider charging them. Several galloped to meet him, blades flashing. Wu Tong's sword flashed brighter, cutting down the first three attackers in a blur. The formation crumbled as he hacked a path through. One soldier leveled a spear, but Wu Tong seized it, yanking the man from the saddle to be trampled under hooves.
Several enemies encircled Wu Tong. Zhao Rou ignored his shouted command to leave, cutting her way toward him. Seeing her in danger, Wu Tong's blade became lightning—one stroke per man, and the ring of foes collapsed. But now the Yan army surged like a flood toward the Tang troops.
Wu Tong spurred his horse to intercept, cutting down soldiers left and right. Yet the tide was endless—until a thrum split the air. An arrow pierced the Yan officer's chest. More arrows followed, each finding its mark—fifty Yan soldiers fell in moments, every shot deadly.
Seizing the moment, Wu Tong and Zhao Rou charged, their blades scattering the enemy ranks. The rebels, panicked, broke and ran. The Yan commander, seeing the rout, had no choice but to pull his troops back.