Chapter Sixty-Two: The Ambush

“Someone is coming.”

Dongfang Bubai and Yang Wenhao exchanged glances; as masters on the innate level, their senses were naturally keen.

“Let’s hide.”

Yang Wenhao immediately pulled Dongfang Bubai with him, leaping up to perch atop the beam. Because the lighting was dim, as long as they kept their presence concealed, they would not be discovered.

The old door creaked open. When Yang Wenhao saw who entered, his eyes narrowed slightly.

The one who stepped in was none other than Yue Buqun.

Upon entering, Yue Buqun saw Lin Pingzhi and Yue Lingshan lying on the ground. His expression faltered briefly, but then his gaze slid past them, landing instead on the open box on the table.

He stepped forward, eyes widening as he took a closer look.

But he did not immediately reach out to take what was inside. Instead, he turned his head, scanning the room, searching every corner of the old house.

Clearly, he was wary of an ambush. As for Lin Pingzhi and Yue Lingshan, both had been struck in their sleep acupoints—something Yue Buqun could easily discern.

Seeing that it wasn’t a trap, Yue Buqun reached out and took the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual from the box, tucking it away.

After obtaining the sword manual, he made no move to wake Lin Pingzhi or Yue Lingshan. Instead, he turned and left the old house.

Once Yue Buqun was gone, Yang Wenhao and Dongfang Bubai dropped down from the beam.

“That Yue Buqun is truly strange,” Dongfang Bubai remarked in confusion. “His own disciple and daughter are right there, yet he acted as if he hadn’t seen them, just took the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual and left.”

Yang Wenhao smiled faintly. “That’s because you don’t know him. Once you learn what kind of man he is, you won’t find it odd at all.”

Dongfang Bubai nodded slightly at this. She didn’t know every single one of the so-called righteous faction’s people, after all.

As the leader of the Sun Moon Divine Sect, how could she possibly be close to any of them?

“Let’s go. There’s no point lingering here any longer,” Yang Wenhao suggested.

Dongfang Bubai nodded in agreement. They had only come to see the connection between the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual and the Sunflower Manual. Now that they had seen it and found nothing useful, it was time to leave.

Having left the old house, they were heading toward the inn they had booked in advance when suddenly Yang Wenhao’s heart gave a lurch.

“Careful!”

He threw himself forward, pulling Dongfang Bubai into his arms and spinning around to shield her with his back.

In Dongfang Bubai’s bewildered gaze, a figure appeared behind Yang Wenhao, thrusting a long sword into his shoulder.

Had it not been for Yang Wenhao’s quick reaction, the sword would have pierced Dongfang Bubai’s heart.

“Courting death!” Dongfang Bubai roared, sending a palm strike at their assailant.

Their palms met, but the attacker was clearly no match for Dongfang Bubai and was knocked back several meters.

“How are you? Are you all right?” Dongfang Bubai, having repelled the enemy, turned to pull out the sword from Yang Wenhao’s shoulder, her delicate face filled with worry.

“I’m fine…” Yang Wenhao coughed, then pressed his fingers to the wound, sealing the acupoint to stem the bleeding.

Were he not a cultivator, able to use his internal energy to heal, he would have been gravely wounded already.

Though he wasn’t too badly hurt now, the injury was still serious.

“Yue Buqun, you’re courting death!” Dongfang Bubai, supporting Yang Wenhao, glared furiously at the distant figure.

Indeed, it was Yue Buqun who had ambushed Yang Wenhao. He had not gone far, but instead concealed himself nearby after leaving the house, waiting for them to emerge. When he saw Dongfang Bubai, whom he recognized, he seized the opportunity to strike, seeking to eliminate this threat. But he hadn’t expected Yang Wenhao to react so quickly, throwing himself in harm’s way to shield Dongfang Bubai from a mortal blow.

Yue Buqun sneered. “I never thought the young hero of Wudang would be consorting with the leader of the Sun Moon Divine Sect. What a pity I failed to kill you with a single stroke.”

“Courting death!” Dongfang Bubai was about to strike Yue Buqun down, but a cry of pain from Yang Wenhao stopped her.

“Are you all right?” She looked at him with concern.

“It hurts a bit,” Yang Wenhao replied, his face pale.

Seeing this, Dongfang Bubai decided not to argue further. She cast a cold glance at Yue Buqun. “If anything happens to Yang Wenhao, one day I will annihilate every soul on Mount Hua. Let’s go.”

With that, she helped Yang Wenhao up onto the roof, and they disappeared into the night.

At that moment, it wasn’t Yue Buqun who breathed a sigh of relief, but Yang Wenhao; after all, he couldn’t let Dongfang Bubai interfere and cost him his four hundred points.

Yue Buqun watched their retreating forms, his eyes glinting strangely, a trace of confusion and doubt lurking in their depths.

Back at the inn, Dongfang Bubai was still deeply worried, despite Yang Wenhao’s assurances that he was not seriously harmed.

As Yang Wenhao was recuperating from his wound, Dongfang Bubai entered with several elderly physicians in tow.

“If you cannot heal him today, I will kill you all,” she said coldly.

Yang Wenhao, watching this, didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

He shook his head. “It’s all right, let them go. I only need a few days’ rest.”

Indeed, as a cultivator, he healed much faster than ordinary people— and this was only at the Qi Refining stage. A true cultivator could even regrow a severed limb.

Dongfang Bubai still hesitated.

“Do you not trust my word?” Yang Wenhao asked.

At last, Dongfang Bubai nodded and dismissed the elderly doctors.

Yang Wenhao’s right shoulder had been pierced through, leaving a large, ghastly wound. Aside from his right arm being nearly useless, he felt otherwise fine.

Suddenly, Dongfang Bubai’s eyes lit up. “I just remembered someone.”

“Who?” Yang Wenhao asked.

“There’s a famous ‘Killer Doctor’ in the martial world—Ping Yizhi. If he treats you, you’ll surely recover completely.”

“The Killer Doctor, Ping Yizhi?” The name sounded familiar to Yang Wenhao. In a flash, he remembered who the man was.

“Tomorrow, I’ll take you to find him,” Dongfang Bubai said, her face bright with delight.

Seeing her so concerned, Yang Wenhao could only agree—after all, she cared so much for him, and in any case, he could treat it as a journey.

That night, Yang Wenhao sat cross-legged on his pallet, cultivating and recovering from his injury. Though his wound was severe, it would not heal in a day or two.

(End of this chapter)