Chapter 20: Outside the City, Unforeseen Trouble

"Members of the White Lotus Society?"
"It seems our timing for leaving is less than ideal."
"But since we are already out, it seems we have no choice but to kill."

Having just departed from Qinghe County, Yang Le and Li Qi'er exchanged glances, a strange and indescribable expression lingering in their eyes. Early autumn in Cangzhou had already brought vast expanses of snow, blanketing the paddy fields outside the city walls. An auspicious snow foretells a bountiful year; were it not for the rising threat of the White Lotus Society, perhaps the harvest for the people of Qinghe County would have been better in the coming year. Such snow would have wiped out all the pests.

However, in these chaotic times, the common folk had no luxury to worry about whether they might starve in the coming year. For the present... simply surviving was a blessing in itself.

In the present. At this very moment, beyond the sky-filling snow, there were dozens of White Lotus Society members clad in white robes, wearing masks made of unidentified animal skulls and clutching blood-stained sickles. Scattered around them, the corpses of dozens of civilians who had attempted to flee Qinghe County were piled up haphazardly. Blood and snow intertwined, and against the stark, barren backdrop, that vivid splash of crimson was strikingly conspicuous.

Yang Le immediately sensed that something was amiss. It was less a matter of corpses being piled up at random, and more that they were being stacked according to some deliberate pattern. In an instant, Yang Le drew his dark-bladed sword, the sliver of silver light along the edge flashing brilliantly under the sunlight. Yang Le understood. Regardless of why these White Lotus members had appeared barely a hundred meters from Qinghe County to slaughter its inhabitants, or that their sudden presence was entirely outside his and Li Qi'er's plans—it was time for him to kill.

"You may proceed on your own. These are the lowest-ranking zealots of the White Lotus Society's 'Bone-Pulse' faction; I can fend for myself." Seeing Yang Le move decisively, Li Qi'er stepped back several meters, distancing herself from the fray to ensure she would not become a burden. Severely wounded and a tenth-grade martial practitioner, Li Qi'er knew that in this situation, this was all she could do.

"No need, I kill them quite quickly." Even as Li Qi'er's words faded, Yang Le's response came. Then, with speed like a flickering shadow, Yang Le charged into the crowd, sword in hand. His swordsmanship was fierce as the wind, and with wide, sweeping strokes, he claimed three lives in an instant. As the blade flashed, blood sprayed from the necks of the surrounding White Lotus members, staining their white robes with a foul,腥 stench. Following that, Yang Le's blade grew even faster.

In the blink of an eye, he had carved a vacuum in the once-dense crowd. Yang Le was now a fleeting, snow-dashing swordsman. Most of the White Lotus members before him were mere tenth-grade initiates, with a small minority at the ninth grade. Slaughtering them was truly effortless for him.

"Have we stumbled into the White Lotus Society's den? Why are there so many of them?"
"Master, we are already surrounded by the White Lotus Society. It is only logical that things would go beyond our planning."
"So, it’s just bad luck?"
"Probably."

After exchanging a look with Li Qi'er, Yang Le reached a decision. He swung his sword, decapitating the two nearest White Lotus members, while Li Qi'er plunged her dagger into the heart of another. Then, the two leaped toward the wild hills outside Qinghe County.

Dozens of breaths later, standing upon a cliff, Yang Le and Li Qi'er looked out over the landscape for several kilometers, feeling inexplicably shaken. The sixty or seventy White Lotus members they had encountered earlier posed no threat to Yang Le; if given a little more time, he could have cleared the area entirely without issue.

But... as he looked into the distance, what met Yang Le's eyes were countless more White Lotus members. The vast majority were draped in white robes, wrapped tightly from head to toe, while a few wore pig or cow skull masks and brandished sickles. They muttered incantations that Yang Le could not quite discern. This mass of people stretched for kilometers ahead, a surging tide across the white snow.

By a rough estimate, there were thousands. Most possessed the same martial cultivation as those Yang Le had just slain—mostly tenth grade, with a rare few at the ninth grade. Those ninth-grade members carried sickles decorated with white paper-cut lotus flowers. At the same time, Yang Le faintly heard the sound of drums from afar, beating with a strange, rhythmic cadence. Whether by coincidence or design, the movement of the white-robed zealots matched the pulse of the drums.

If that were all, it would not have been enough to force Yang Le to temporarily avoid the brunt of their force. What he saw was only the beginning. A moment later, to the left... countless people dressed in burlap, some even bare-chested, charged toward Qinghe County wielding axes, kitchen knives, and hoes. Their gaunt, withered faces were entirely consumed by a manic frenzy. Yang Le knew these were starving refugees. On their arms, they wore white cloth strips. These were refugees with no martial training, but their numbers... Yang Le could not even begin to count.

To the right, another wave emerged: women in cyan robes, faces veiled, armed with whips, nine-section chains, fly-whisks, and longswords. They appeared to be around eighteen years of age, each with a blue lotus mark on her forehead. They numbered exactly eighty-one. They were the highest in martial cultivation among the White Lotus ranks. Eighty-one of them... all at the eighth grade. Though Yang Le still could not quite make out the incantations they chanted, the seductive, hypnotic melody left him feeling inexplicably agitated.

Further away, Yang Le could vaguely see a pure white palanquin, carried slowly by four muscular giants over three meters tall. They were naked, their massive, bulging muscles and hideous faces covered in eerie, bronze-colored runes. Each carried four enormous bone clubs on his back. Because of the distance, Yang Le could not gauge their martial strength, but by all appearances, they were not to be underestimated. What troubled Yang Le even more was that inside the palanquin, an old Daoist priest in gray robes sat in meditation, eyes closed.

"We may have run into major trouble. Given the state of the White Lotus Society, I fear they have already begun their assault on Qinghe County." Standing on the cliff, Yang Le looked at the dense sea of enemies, realizing the gravity of their situation.

"Drop the 'may have.' We are in real trouble." Li Qi'er's expression, too, flickered with solemnity. "These fellows are likely members of the White Lotus Society's 'Bone-Pulse' faction from the Cangzhou branch, and their target is clearly Qinghe County." Murmuring to herself, her face was filled with shock. "Qinghe County is nothing but a small, border town of the Great Qian Empire. Is it really worth such a massive mobilization?"

Having heard this, Yang Le also found it impossible to fathom. Why would the White Lotus Society go to such great lengths to target such a remote, insignificant town?