Yang Guo: I defied death and reached the heavens in The Return of the Condor Heroes

Traveling day and night, eleven or twelve days have passed in the blink of an eye.

By day they trudged along the dusty official roads, and by night they slept in desolate village inns, slowly traversing a thousand-mile journey. After days of travel, the group was somewhat weary, but they managed to travel steadily.

The day was sunny and the wind was gentle.

Wang Zhensong rode alongside Yang Guo, gazing at the open terrain ahead, and spoke slowly:

"Master Yang, the Baihe Ferry in Nanyang is just ten miles ahead. After crossing the ferry, it will take another eight or nine days to reach the Dasheng Pass area."

Yang Guo, dressed in white and riding a white horse, walked slowly in the wind.

Yang Guo raised his eyes to look at the faint shimmering water in the distance and nodded slightly:

"We have been traveling for days, and the owner has gone to great lengths to handle everything along the way. It must have been very tiring for him."

Upon hearing this, Wang Zhengsong clapped his hands and laughed heartily, his expression cheerful:

"Master Yang, you're being too polite."

"With you and Master Long, two reclusive masters, traveling together, the journey has been safe and uneventful. Not to mention the mere thousand miles, even if it took another month or more, I would be willing to go."

The two men rode side by side, chatting and laughing as the convoy slowly moved forward.

The fertile fields and paths along the official road gradually faded away, and the surrounding vegetation became increasingly moist. The wind carried the moisture from the rivers and lakes, refreshing and invigorating.

The Baihe River flows mightily, stretching across the ferry crossing ahead, which is now almost in sight.

Just past noon, the carriages and horses arrived at the Baihe ferry.

This place is a major thoroughfare connecting the north and south, and it is usually bustling with merchants and travelers. Today, it is even more lively.

Four or five ferry boats were moored on the river, bobbing gently on the blue waves.

The riverbank was crowded with people, merchants, porters, and peddlers, with a cacophony of voices and a bustling scene of people and vehicles.

But when Wang Zhengsong saw the situation at the ferry, the smile on his face vanished instantly, and his expression turned serious.

The only boarding route at the ferry crossing was blocked by more than twenty armored soldiers with weapons, making it impossible to move an inch.

The group of men, dressed in Mongolian border guard uniforms, with curved swords at their waists, exuded a menacing aura. They stood tall and arrogant, displaying an overbearing and domineering attitude.

The leader was a burly man with a thick beard, broad shoulders, and a fierce, menacing face.

He stood with his hands on his hips in the center of the ferry crossing, his voice booming like thunder, sternly rebuking the people on the shore:

"The ferry crossing has been requisitioned for military purposes today, and all ferries are to be sealed off! All unauthorized personnel must immediately retreat! Anyone who dares to linger and block the way will be treated as an enemy and executed without exception!"

The common people were ordinary citizens who knew all too well how brutal and ruthless the Mongol soldiers were, never showing mercy under their blades.

Despite their resentment and the oppression they suffered, they dared not speak out. The people bowed their heads and retreated, walking in twos and threes to the roadside and sighing softly.

Several peddlers carrying loads packed up their loads, while the traveling merchant leading his donkey shook his head in resignation, none daring to step forward and utter a single word of argument.

Wang Zhengsong, a seasoned traveler in the martial world, seeing this situation, lowered his voice and said to Yang Guo:

"Baihe is just an ordinary river crossing, not a border fortress. The sudden deployment of Mongol troops to block the crossing is extremely suspicious. Could it be related to the heroes' gathering at Dasheng Pass?"

Yang Guo's gaze swept indifferently over the group of armored soldiers at the ferry crossing, his expression calm and unwavering.

"That must be it. The Mongols were wary of the Central Plains martial arts community joining forces to resist the enemy, so they set up roadblocks along the way to cut off the north-south passage, intending to prevent martial arts practitioners from the north from going south to attend the meeting."

Wang Zhengsong's expression was grave as he pondered in a low voice, "Then what do we do?"

Yang Guo smiled slightly, a calm expression playing on his lips.

"Master, there is no need to worry. These are just a few border guards, nothing to fear. I can handle them myself."

After speaking, he dismounted and casually handed the reins to the servant beside him.

She wore a spotless white short robe, and her long, frosty white hair was gently stirred by the river breeze.

With a relaxed and leisurely posture, he walked slowly towards the ferry.

More than twenty Mongol soldiers, armed with knives and clad in armor, stood ahead, exuding a menacing aura. The gleam of their weapons reflected in the sunlight, making them extremely dangerous to ordinary people.

But in Yang Guo's eyes, they were nothing more than a pile of pebbles blocking his way. He walked unhurriedly, his expression calm and composed.

The bearded leader saw a young man in white walking straight towards them alone, treating their own weapons and armor as if they were nothing.

He was taken aback at first, then his ferocity flared, and he roared:

"Stop right there! Take another step forward, and I'll take your dog's life!"

Yang Guo ignored him and continued walking slowly forward without stopping.

Upon seeing this, the burly man with the bushy beard felt utterly humiliated. He roared and suddenly drew his right-hand scimitar!

A flash of cold light, accompanied by a fierce gust of wind, slashed out diagonally!

This strike was powerful and ruthless, aimed directly at Yang Guo's shoulder, intended to severely injure him in one blow and establish his authority to intimidate the entire audience.

The blade whistled through the air, and the surrounding people gasped in alarm, all feeling that the white-clad youth was about to die on the spot.

But Yang Guo was faster than him.

He slightly turned his body, letting the blade slice through his arm, but the blade missed its mark and didn't touch him at all.

Before the burly man could sheathe his sword and change his move, Yang Guo flicked his wrist and lightly struck out with his palm.

This palm strike appeared ordinary and unremarkable, lacking any earth-shattering power, but in reality it contained the strength of a dragon and a tiger, heavy and solid, and imprinted firmly on the chest of the burly man with a bushy beard.

There was a muffled "thump".

The burly man with the bushy beard shuddered violently, as if struck by a thousand pounds.

He was lifted off the ground, flew backward several feet, and crashed heavily onto the bluestone ground.

He felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a mouthful of blood gushed out. His limbs twitched twice, and he immediately became weak and lay on the ground, no longer able to get up, with not a trace of the ferocity he had shown earlier.

The ferry crossing was instantly deathly silent.

The clamor in the hall abruptly ceased, and all the common people, merchants, and porters stared in disbelief at the white-clad figure in the center of the room.

After a moment of silence, thunderous cheers erupted from the shore!

"Well played!"

"That was satisfying! These Tartars have gone too far; today they've finally met their match!"

"Impressive skills!"

"This young hero is truly a divine being! He subdued that Tartar in a single move!"

The crowd cheered, releasing all the pent-up frustration they had felt from being oppressed by the Mongol soldiers for days.

Several young men couldn't help but clap and cheer, but were quickly pulled back by the older men beside them, feeling both happy and afraid.

Although one Mongol was defeated, the remaining twenty-odd Mongol soldiers still held weapons in their hands, and the danger had not yet subsided.

The remaining Mongol soldiers looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

This bearded leader was the most skilled and strongest among the soldiers. Ordinary men, numbering three to five, could not even get close to him. However, he was unable to withstand a single move from this white-clad youth and was instantly seriously injured and collapsed to the ground.

The men held curved swords, yet their hands and feet were trembling with cold; no one dared to rush forward and risk their lives.

A tall, thin leader, barely suppressing his fear, pointed at Yang Guo and shouted sternly:

"What a bold and audacious madman! You...you wait! How dare you assault a Mongol soldier! Do you know your crime?!" He then ordered the soldiers beside him, "Quickly report back to the commander and have troops come to surround and arrest him!"

Upon hearing this, the Mongol soldier was about to turn around and go to report the news.

Yang Guo snorted coldly, and before the man could move, he suddenly moved.

The white-clad figure flashed, like a white rainbow sweeping across the ground; the movement was so fast that it was difficult to discern with the naked eye, leaving only a faint afterimage on the field.

Immediately following, a series of dull thuds rose and fell.

Yang Guo moved swiftly among the armored soldiers, his palms rising and falling with light and graceful movements. There were no fierce or violent moves, but every move was precise and steady.

With each strike, a Mongol soldier screamed and fell to the ground, his bones broken and his weapon falling from his hand.

In just three or four breaths.

More than twenty arrogant and domineering Mongol soldiers lay down on the bluestone at the ferry crossing.

Some clutched their stomachs and wailed, some rolled on their knees in pain, and some lay unconscious on the ground, scattered haphazardly, with no one able to stand.

The sealing barrier, which had been filled with murderous aura just moments before, crumbled completely in an instant, leaving not a trace.