Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

The blade, carrying the night wind, slashed diagonally from the side, the chill of the edge causing Jiang Lan's cheek to sting first.

"Boy, leave the people in the carriage here, and I'll spare your life."

A cold shout suddenly rang out, and the masked leader slowly stepped forward, his triangular eyes hidden behind his mask, revealing a chilling killing intent.

Two men stood to his left and right, one tall and one short, their blades dripping blood. All three were dressed in night clothes, but the black jade pendants at their waists and the exquisite cloud patterns on their boots clearly indicated their identities—privately raised assassins, there specifically to ambush and kill.

Jiang Lan didn't even have time to reply before her opponent made a move.

He suddenly turned and spun to the side, using his waist and abdomen to generate power. His right fist rolled out from under his ribs, and he followed up with a tiger swing, striking straight at his opponent's temple.

Strangely, the man seemed to have anticipated his moves, casually tilting his head to avoid the attack, while simultaneously turning his palm down and striking Jiang Lan's old injury on his left shoulder.

That force was far beyond ordinary punches and kicks. The palm strikes appeared gentle, but when they landed, they were concentrated into a cone, like an iron hammer hitting bone, with a hidden, ruthless force.

Jiang Lan felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and her entire right arm went numb instantly. She staggered back three steps, only managing to regain her balance after her heels crushed pebbles.

His opponent's boxing style was subtle and unpredictable, like a venomous snake coiling around his body, making it difficult to discern the moves from the real to the fake. Just moments ago, the fist was clearly aimed at his chest, but as it was about to strike, it suddenly turned to his ribs. The routine was extremely unorthodox, something he had never seen before.

Distracted for a moment, Jiang Lan's opponent seized the opportunity to advance and deliver another heavy punch. Unable to dodge in time, Jiang Lan took a solid hit to the abdomen, feeling as if his internal organs had been turned inside out. He groaned, a strong metallic taste rising in his throat, and he almost vomited blood on the spot.

The fight had lasted for nearly an hour. He was exhausted, his old shoulder wound was starting to crack, and his strength was completely depleted. He was only holding on by sheer willpower.

His triangular eyes took in his weakness, and the probing in his eyes completely transformed into unwavering contempt.

He raised his hand and waved it, and two assassins on his left and right immediately flashed to surround Jiang Lan, blocking his retreat. He then stepped forward, pressing closer and closer: "Only two acupoints, injured and with your life force almost depleted, what do you have to fight me with? If you know what's good for you, hand over the person, and I might spare your life. Otherwise, today will be your burial ground."

Jiang Lan gritted her teeth, switched the short knife to her left hand, clenched her right fist tightly, and urged the last of her blood and qi to surge.

He couldn't retreat; the carriage he was escorting was right behind him. Only by protecting the people on the carriage could he secure a martial arts recommendation from the Canal Gang.

Without uttering a single wasted word, he stomped his foot hard on the ground, his body suddenly lunging forward, launching an offensive.

The triangular-eyed man's gaze turned icy, and he held back, unleashing a barrage of bizarre punches and palm strikes aimed straight at Jiang Lan's face. This attack was swifter and more ruthless than any of his previous moves. Jiang Lan parried with his arm, and the instant their fists collided, a sharp pain shot through his bones. He gritted his teeth and endured it, unleashing a powerful left punch, Tiger Strike, aimed directly at his opponent's center.

The opponent dodged to the side, then delivered another swift and vicious palm strike, slamming it hard into Jiang Lan's chest. Jiang Lan felt a dull pain in his chest, his blood and qi completely thrown into disarray. He forced down the surging blood, and his vision began to blur.

Just then, a golden light suddenly flashed in his mind, and a golden panel appeared uncontrollably, the words on it dazzlingly bright—

[On the brink of life and death, a profound understanding of martial arts arises, and the proficiency of the Mountain-Crushing Fist greatly improves!]

【Crushing Mountain Fist (Minor Mastery): 67/500 → 72/500】

The numbers were rising, but the physical exhaustion was growing heavier. Jiang Lan knew in his heart that this improvement was far from enough; he had to push himself to take another step forward in the face of life and death.

The triangular-eyed man's attacks were like a storm, his fists and palms a mix of feints and real strikes. Jiang Lan, relying on his fierce spirit, barely managed to deflect the attacks with the three moves of the Mountain-Crushing Fist: Tiger Ben to block the front, Tiger Waist to defend against the side attacks, and Tiger Pounce to find an opportunity to counterattack. But in the end, he was a beat too slow and fell into a disadvantageous position with each move.

【Crushing Mountain Fist (Minor Mastery): 72/500 → 85/500】

The numbers on the panel kept flashing, but Jiang Lan's body was nearing its limit. The old wound on his shoulder reopened, blood soaking through the cloth and dripping down his arm. His right arm had completely lost its strength. A cold light flashed in the triangular eyes. Seizing the opening, he punched Jiang Lan in the chest with all his might.

"puff--"

Jiang Lan was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string. His back slammed heavily against the earthen wall by the roadside, causing the plaster to crumble and fall to the ground. He could no longer hold on and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Even when a spent arrow is at its last gasp, it still dares to try and stop a chariot with its bare hands."

The man with the triangular eyes slowly approached, drawing a short knife from his waist. The blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight. "I'll send you on your way!"

The blade was raised high, and the shadow of death instantly enveloped Jiang Lan. He tried desperately to stand up by supporting himself against the wall, but his legs were weak, his blood and energy were depleted, and he didn't even have the strength to lift his hand.

Can't die!

He screamed inwardly, but his physical weakness made all his obsessions a mere pipe dream.

Just as the blade was about to fall, a very faint sound of wind breaking suddenly rang out, so fast that it was invisible.

A thin needle, gleaming with a cold light, shot out from behind the carriage curtain and pierced the temple of the triangular-eyed man with perfect accuracy. The needle tip pierced through his skull and, streaked with blood, became embedded in the earthen wall behind Jiang Lan, trembling incessantly.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

The man with the triangular eyes froze in place, his eyes wide with disbelief. The dagger clattered to the ground, and he fell straight backward, twitching twice before losing his breath.

The other two Zhao family assassins' expressions changed drastically. Terrified, they exchanged a glance, turned and fled, not even caring about their companion's corpse, disappearing into the depths of the night in moments.

Jiang Lan leaned against the earthen wall, panting heavily, his clothes soaked with cold sweat mixed with blood. He turned his head with difficulty to look at the carriage behind him.

The carriage curtain was gently lifted, and a thin man in his forties leaned out. He was dressed in a gray cloth robe and looked like an ordinary accountant, but he was holding a similar fine needle between his fingers. His eyes were calm and unfathomable.

The two men locked eyes. The man remained silent, slowly retracting the needle and retreating back into the carriage. The curtains fell again, blocking all view.

Jiang Lan pursed her lips, suppressing the turmoil in her heart. She struggled to her feet, leaning against the wall, tore off a strip of cloth from her clothes, hastily bandaged her ruptured old wound, and staggered onto the carriage shaft.

"Keep going, keep moving forward."

The old driver was so frightened that his face turned pale. His hands trembled as he cracked the whip, and the carriage started moving again, running over the bloodstains on the ground as it sped toward the prefectural city.

……

The carriage slowly drove into the city, the lights illuminating his young yet resolute face.

Just then, a small jade bottle fell through the gap in the carriage curtain and rolled to Jiang Lan's feet.