A Man in the Snow: Starting with a Sword Challenge to the Northern Liang Prince's Palace

The eldest swordsman, Chen Qingdu, sat in the sword pavilion, spreading a map on the table and pointing to a mark deep in the wilderness: "The demon race has a supply outpost here, stockpiling three months' worth of food and pills. If we take it down, the demon race's next offensive will be delayed by at least half a month."

He looked up at Chen Ping'an and said, "You go."

Chen Pingan didn't hesitate: "Okay."

"Take ten people," Chen Qingdu said. "The stronghold is guarded by over a hundred demons, led by two Nascent Soul Realm experts. Including the surrounding patrols, you have at most an hour. After that, it will be difficult to return."

Chen Ping'an nodded, took the map, and left.

The news quickly reached the tavern.

Ye Yun was rummaging through the wine lees in the backyard when he heard Zhou Hu, a young swordsman and Qian Shouxin's former deputy, run in and tell him about it. He put down his wooden shovel, wiped his hands, and went to the front yard to find Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an stood at the entrance of the Hidden Official's Mansion, counting the people. Ten people, all of whom he had met in recent days, some old, some young, some cold, some warm, but all of whom he trusted.

Ye Yun walked over and waited until he finished counting the people before speaking, "I'll go with you."

Chen Pingan shook his head: "This is my task, I'll do it myself."

Ye Yun looked at him for a long while. Chen Ping'an's eyes were calm, without any intention of showing off or keeping people at arm's length. He simply stated a fact calmly: This is my task, and I will do it myself.

Ye Yun suddenly smiled. It wasn't a faint smile, but a genuine smile, though it was only for a moment, but Chen Ping'an saw it.

"Alright," Ye Yun said, "but if you die, who will pay for the drinks?"

Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "Then I will definitely come back alive."

Ye Yun turned and left.

When Chen Ping'an led the team out, Ye Yun stood at the window on the second floor of the tavern, watching the eleven people walk out of the city gate and disappear into the wasteland.

He waited for about half an incense stick's time, then climbed out of the window and followed them.

Chen Ping'an walked in the middle of the group, with three scouts ahead of him and six sword cultivators behind him, directing the movement from the center. The eleven of them walked close to the edge of the wasteland, avoiding the patrol routes of the demon race, at a moderate pace.

He had studied the map more than a dozen times and had memorized it. The stronghold was located at a bend in a dry riverbed, surrounded by mountains on three sides, with only one entrance. The demon race chose this kind of location to build their stronghold because it was easy to defend and difficult to attack. But for the human race, as long as the entrance was blocked, the demons inside would not be able to escape.

After walking for an hour, Chen Ping'an raised his hand, and the group stopped.

"Two miles ahead," he lowered his voice, "there's a patrol of five demons, all at the Golden Core stage. Go around them."

The scout glanced back at him, as if to say, "Can we go around?"

Chen Pingan pointed to a ditch on the map: "Go this way, it'll be half a mile longer, but you won't be discovered."

The group changed course, taking an extra half an incense stick's time to bypass the patrol.

After walking for another half hour, the stronghold came into view.

At the bend in the dried-up riverbed, a simple wall made of stones and wood was erected, inside which a dozen or so tents were pitched. Demons patrolled the wall, and two bear demons stood at the entrance, one on the left and one on the right, each carrying a thick iron rod.

There were figures moving around in the stronghold; a rough count revealed seventy or eighty people. Adding the sentries on the walls and around the perimeter, the total was probably just over a hundred.

Chen Pingan lay down behind a sloping hill, looked through binoculars for a while, then pulled back and drew a simple diagram on the ground.

"Two bear demons at the entrance, Nascent Soul stage?" he asked.

The old sword cultivator Liu Huzi next to him shook his head: "Peak Golden Core stage. The leaders are inside, two Nascent Soul stage cultivators, one a snake demon and the other a tiger demon."

Chen Ping'an nodded and marked several locations on the map.

"Uncle Liu, take three men and circle around to the back of the stronghold from the left. No need to fight, just set fires. When they see the fire, the demons inside will panic."

"Uncle Zhao, take three men and launch a feint attack from the right flank to create momentum, but don't charge in."

"The remaining three, follow me and fight head-on."

Liu Huzi frowned: "Frontline? There are two peak Golden Core cultivators at the entrance, and two Nascent Soul cultivators inside. How are you three going to fight them?"

Chen Ping'an: "The frontal attack is a feint. Once you two move, the demons inside will split up. I'll take advantage of the chaos to rush in, kill those two Nascent Soul cultivators, and the stronghold will fall apart."

Before Liu Huzi could say anything more, Chen Ping'an had already drawn his sword.

"Let's do it."

The eleven people dispersed in three groups.

Chen Ping'an and three others lay prone behind the earthen slope in front of the stronghold, waiting. After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, flames suddenly erupted behind the stronghold, and thick smoke shot into the sky. Immediately afterward, shouts of battle and the clang of swords came from the right.

Chaos erupted at the stronghold. The demons were shouting, running, and yelling. The patrol team on the wall was in complete disarray, some running backwards, others to the right. The bear demons at the gate were also panicked, one rushing backwards, the other to the right.

Chen Pingan stood up: "Let's go."

The four men rushed toward the gate of the stronghold.

There was no one guarding the entrance anymore. Chen Ping'an was the first to rush in, only to be met head-on by a wolf demon. He pierced the wolf demon's throat with his sword, but without stopping, he continued to charge in.

Most of the demons in the stronghold were distracted by the feints from both sides, leaving less than thirty in the middle. Chen Ping'an and his three companions, like a sharp knife, cut through the middle, carving a bloody path.

Chen Ping'an's sword was incredibly fast. Not in a dazzling way, but in a way that didn't waste an inch of its blade. Every strike aimed for vital points—throat, heart, eyes—one strike for each, never needing a second.

The three sword cultivators behind him followed, finishing off the remaining enemies, providing cover, and eliminating the demons he missed from the side. The four of them worked together seamlessly, as if they had been training together for many years.

When they reached the center of the stronghold, two Nascent Soul Realm demons emerged.

One was a snake demon, with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a python, covered in bluish-green scales, flicking its tongue, its vertical pupils filled with coldness. The other was a tiger demon, with a tiger's head and a human body, smaller than the one Chen Ping'an had seen on the city wall, but still a genuine peak Nascent Soul Realm cultivator.

The snake demon spoke first: "Humans? Just these few?"

The tiger demon grinned: "They're just asking to die."

Without wasting words, Chen Ping'an drew his sword and charged forward.

The serpent demon opened its mouth and spewed out a cloud of poisonous mist. The green mist spread out, corroding the ground and sizzling in its wake. Chen Ping'an dodged to the side, flicking the ground with the tip of his sword, lifting a stone that pierced through the poisonous mist and hurtled towards the serpent demon's face. The serpent demon tilted its head to avoid it, and Chen Ping'an had already bypassed the poisonous mist and was standing in front of it.

He thrust his sword at the snake demon's vital spot.

The snake demon leaned back, avoiding a fatal blow, but the sword's edge grazed its neck, scales flying off and blood seeping out. The snake demon cried out in pain, its tail sweeping across, but Chen Ping'an leaped to dodge, turning in mid-air and slashing at the snake demon's head with his sword.

The snake demon didn't have time to dodge before the tiger demon made its move.

The tiger demon unleashed a powerful punch at Chen Ping'an's side, its force sharp and whistling through the air. If Chen Ping'an continued slaying the snake demon, he would be struck by the punch himself. He sheathed his sword, somersaulted in mid-air, and landed three zhang away.

Two Nascent Soul Realm experts, one on the left and one on the right, sandwiched him in the middle.

Chen Ping'an wiped the blood from his face and glanced behind him. The three sword cultivators were entangled in fighting the other demons at the stronghold and couldn't help for the time being.

He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword.

The snake demon made the first move. Instead of using the poison mist, it pounced directly, opening its mouth wide and biting at Chen Ping'an's neck with its venomous fangs. The tiger demon attacked simultaneously, throwing out both fists to block Chen Ping'an's retreat.

Chen Ping'an did not back down.

He took a step forward, not retreating, but advancing. This step filled the gap between the snake demon and the tiger demon, dodging the tiger demon's fist, and at the same time thrusting his sword towards the snake demon's jaw.

The snake demon missed its target, and Chen Ping'an's sword pierced through its lower jaw and upper jaw, the tip protruding from the top of its head. The snake demon's body stiffened abruptly, its tail whipping wildly, knocking down a cluster of tents.

Chen Ping'an drew his sword, and the snake demon collapsed to the ground, still convulsing.

The tiger demon's fist arrived.

Chen Ping'an had no time to dodge and was punched in the left shoulder, sending him flying. He crashed into a tent and landed in a pile of rubble. The bones in his left shoulder cracked, and he was sweating profusely from the pain.

But he didn't lie down. He crawled up from the rubble, his left hand hanging limply, while his right hand still gripped the sword, blood dripping from it.

The tiger demon charged forward, unleashing a barrage of punches, each one landing with a powerful impact. Chen Ping'an, wielding his sword in one hand, dodged left and right, occasionally throwing a counterattack, but all his blows were repelled by the tiger demon's force. The tiger demon, at the peak of the Nascent Soul Realm, possessed terrifying strength; each punch felt like a hammer blow.

Chen Ping'an was forced to retreat repeatedly, his back slamming into a stone wall. The tiger demon threw a punch, which he dodged to the side, but his fist struck the stone wall, causing half of it to collapse.

The tiger demon pulled out his arm, turned around, and threw another punch.

Chen Ping'an did not dodge.

He charged forward to meet the fist.

As the tiger demon's fist struck his chest, his sword pierced the tiger demon's heart.

Both of them stopped.

Chen Ping'an glanced down at his chest; two ribs were broken, and his chest was caved in, the pain making it hard for him to breathe. He gritted his teeth, twisted the sword inside the tiger demon's heart, and then pulled it out.

The tiger demon stared wide-eyed, its mouth agape, as if trying to say something, but blood welled up in its throat, and it could only gurgle and gurgle. It knelt down, then lay motionless on the ground.

Chen Ping'an leaned against the stone wall, panting heavily. His left shoulder was broken, his ribs were broken, and his mouth was full of blood. He looked down at his chest; his clothes had a hole in them, revealing a patch of bruised and purple skin.

When the demons in the stronghold saw that their two leaders were dead, they began to flee. Some tried to escape by scaling the back wall, while others rushed out through the main gate, only to be intercepted by Liu Huzi and his men.

Chen Pingan leaned against the wall, looking at the corpses scattered on the ground and the burning tent, and panted for a while.

"Withdraw," he said.

Of the eleven people, two died and six were injured. Chen Ping'an was the most seriously injured; he couldn't lift his left shoulder, and every breath he took caused him excruciating pain and cold sweat. But he walked steadily in the middle of the group, without needing anyone's help.

After walking for an hour, they heard the roars of monsters behind them.

The demon race's pursuers have arrived.

Chen Ping'an glanced back and saw a group of black dots appearing on the distant horizon. They were moving very fast and could catch up in less than half an incense stick's time.

"You guys go first," he said, shoving the map into Liu Huzi's hands. "I'll cover the rear."

"Are you crazy?" Liu Huzi glared. "You're injured like this—"

"Walk."

Chen Pingan turned around and walked towards the pursuers.

Liu Huzi gritted his teeth and led the group forward.

Chen Ping'an walked half a mile, found a narrow ditch, stood in the middle of the ditch, and waited.

The pursuers have arrived. There are five of them, led by two Nascent Soul Realm cultivators, followed by three Golden Core Realm cultivators. They are weaker than those at the stronghold, but they are still a tough opponent for Chen Ping'an, who is currently covered in wounds.

Without hesitation, he made the first move.

With a flash of sword light, the Golden Core Realm wolf demon at the forefront fell to the ground. The second one charged forward, and he sliced ​​off half of its face with a single sword strike. Before the third one could even reach them, the leading Nascent Soul Realm bear demon had already pounced.

Chen Ping'an dodged the bear demon's attack, but was slashed by the claws of another Nascent Soul Realm leopard demon, leaving five gashes on his back from which blood gushed. He gritted his teeth and pierced the leopard demon's throat with his sword. When he pulled it out, the sword was stuck in the bone, causing him to pause for a moment.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the bear demon slapped him on the back, sending him flying. He crashed to the ground and rolled several times.

He lay on the ground, the sword still in his hand. He used the sword to prop himself up, knelt on the ground, and coughed up blood.

The bear demon walked over and raised its foot to stomp on it.

A sword light flew in from afar.

So fast you can't see it.

The bear demon's head flew up, but its body remained standing for two breaths before it collapsed.

Chen Pingan looked up, but there was nothing in the distance.

He paused for a moment, then got up, picked up his sword, and limped forward.

When they caught up with the group, Liu Huzi's eyes reddened when he saw that he was still alive. No one asked him how he had survived; they simply helped him up and supported him as they walked forward.

Ye Yun stood on a hill in the distance, watching the group walk away, sheathed his sword, turned and disappeared into the wasteland.

When Chen Ping'an returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall, it was almost dark.

He first went to the Hidden Official's Office to complete the task, and then went to the tavern.

When Ye Yun pushed open the door, she saw Chen Ping'an sitting behind the counter wiping dishes. Seeing that Chen Ping'an was covered in blood, his left shoulder was drooping, and there was a dent in his chest, she paused for a moment, then continued wiping.

"You're back?" Ye Yun asked.

Chen Ping'an sat down at the counter, placed his sword on the table, and nodded: "You're back."

Ye Yun took a pot of wine from the shelf, poured a bowl of it, and pushed it over.

Chen Pingan picked up the bowl and took a sip, choking and coughing violently; the air he coughed up tasted of blood. But he still finished the bowl of wine.

"The stronghold has been taken down?" Ye Yun asked.

"Pull it out."

"casualties?"

"Two people died."

Ye Yun remained silent for a while, then poured him another bowl.

Chen Ping'an picked up the bowl, but didn't drink it. Looking at the wine in the bowl, he suddenly said, "Boss Ye, someone will help me when we're covering the retreat."

Ye Yun, without stopping wiping the dishes, asked, "Oh?"

"I can't see him, but I know someone's here." Chen Ping'an looked up at Ye Yun. "Is it you?"

Ye Yun put down his bowl, leaned against the counter, and looked at Chen Ping'an. Chen Ping'an's eyes were bright, like two lamps, staring at him without flinching.

Ye Yun neither admitted nor denied it.

He simply said, "Are you still going to drink? If not, I'll take it."

Chen Pingan stared at him for a while, then smiled. He picked up the bowl and downed it in one gulp.

"drink."

Ye Yun poured him another bowl.

The two men sat in the tavern, drinking bowl after bowl of wine, neither of them mentioning the matter of covering their tracks again.

By the end of the drinking session, Chen Ping'an was slumped over the table, drunk.

Ye Yun looked at the back of his head for a while, then took out a thin blanket from behind the counter and covered him with it.

He walked to the door, pushed it open a crack, and peeked out. The night at the Sword Qi Great Wall was very dark, with torches flickering on the distant city walls. The wind was strong, making the door creak.

He closed the door, went back behind the counter, sat down, and continued wiping his bowls.