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Chapter 60 : Aftermath in the Small Valley

  Three days later, Chen Mo stood atop the valley ridge, his figure still as carved stone. Below, a long caravan crept forward like a steel-backed serpent. Nearly two hundred carriages and carts stretched across the road, wheels grinding, beasts snorting, the mixed noise of guards shouting and merchants arguing drifting upward on the wind.

  His eyes were cold and precise.

  “Be ready,” Chen Mo said calmly. “Our target has arrived.”

  Mo Yan and He Zuo swallowed, their throats dry, and answered with forced steadiness, “Yes, my lord.”

  Sensing the tightness in their breathing, Chen Mo spoke again, his voice flat, almost casual.

  “Relax. Your task is simple. Seize the valuables and drive the marked carriages away. Kill anyone who blocks you.” His gaze shifted toward the heart of the caravan, where the strongest auras gathered. “I will handle the main force first.”

  The valley wind stirred his robe.

  Below, the caravan rolled on, unaware that it had already crossed the line between commerce and slaughter.

  Chen Mo moved.

  There was no signal, no roar of qi, no dramatic descent from the heavens. One moment the ridge was empty. The next, the valley screamed.

  He stepped forward and the world folded.

  His figure vanished from the ridge and reappeared above the caravan in a blur of compressed air. Wherever his senses had marked the densest auras, death followed immediately. His palm descended like a falling seal.

  Boom.

  A carriage exploded inward, wood collapsing as if crushed by an invisible mountain. The Bone Forging expert inside barely had time to widen his eyes before his skeleton imploded. Blood mist burst through the shattered planks, raining down in a red arc.

  Chen Mo did not stop.

  He threaded through the caravan lanes, each step precise, each strike merciless. Another carriage caved in, wheels snapping, iron fittings screaming as they twisted. A second expert died mid-breath, his ribs punching through his own back before his scream could form.

  Only then did the others react.

  Auras flared across the caravan as the remaining Bone Forging experts surged toward the disturbance, weapons drawn, qi roaring as they locked onto the terrifying presence in their midst. None of them yet realized that one of their number had already vanished from the world.

  They rushed in unison.

  And then they felt it.

  The pressure crashed down on them like a collapsing sky.

  Their expressions froze. Knees buckled. Qi circulation stuttered and misfired as Chen Mo’s presence crushed theirs flat, not sharp or explosive, but overwhelmingly dense. Heavy. Absolute.

  “T-this aura—!”

  “Organ Ref—!”

  Panic bloomed too late.

  Chen Mo did not slow, did not posture, did not allow words to finish forming. He stepped into their midst and struck.

  One breath.

  A palm pierced through a chest, pulverizing heart and lungs into paste.

  Second breath.

  A backhand shattered a skull and sent the body spinning into a cart, splintering it apart.

  Third breath.

  A downward stomp cracked the earth and snapped a cultivator’s legs before the shockwave finished the rest of his body.

  They never pleaded. They were never given the chance.

  In a handful of breaths, the valley fell silent save for the crackle of broken wood and the screams of ordinary guards scattering like ants. Where elite protectors had stood moments before, only corpses and wreckage remained.

  Chen Mo straightened, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve.

  The caravan’s spine had been broken before it even understood it was under attack.

  Above, the wind passed through the valley once more, carrying the metallic scent of blood.

  From this moment on, the plundering could begin.

  From above, Mo Yan and He Zuo stood frozen.

  They had known Chen Mo was terrifying. They had felt his aura in the study, had bowed under its weight. But watching it unleashed was something else entirely. What lay below was not a battle. It was slaughter carried out with frightening calm.

  Carriages lay crushed like toys. Bone Forging experts had vanished in moments. The valley had become a grave before a single command could be shouted.

  Mo Yan swallowed hard.

  He Zuo’s hands trembled around his weapon.

  Neither of them dared to linger.

  “Move,” Mo Yan hissed, forcing himself into motion.

  They sprang down from the ridge and plunged into the chaos.

  The caravan had already broken. Guards screamed orders that no one obeyed. Horses reared and snapped their reins, carts overturned, and merchants fled in every direction, abandoning chests of silver and lacquered boxes in blind panic.

  Mo Yan struck first.

  He landed atop a luxurious carriage, blade flashing as he cut through the driver and escort in a single sweep. Blood splashed across embroidered curtains as he kicked the door open and dragged out a shrieking merchant, snapping his neck without hesitation.

  He Zuo was no slower.

  He smashed through another carriage, his fist collapsing a guard’s chest before the man could raise his saber. He tore open compartments, tossing bodies aside, eyes sharp as he searched for anything marked with seals or medicinal sigils.

  “Here!” he barked.

  Inside one cart, jade cases spilled open, revealing bundles of spirit herbs wrapped in silk. He Zuo’s breath hitched, but he did not slow. He swept them into storage pouches and moved on.

  Around them, the caravan dissolved into madness.

  Guards threw down weapons and ran. Merchants screamed and crawled through the dirt. Some tried to beg, others tried to flee, only to be cut down as Mo Yan and He Zuo carved straight paths through the heart of the caravan.

  No mercy. No hesitation.

  They overturned carts, shattered locks, and seized anything of value. Silver spilled across the ground, gold clinked as chests were broken open, and the smell of blood mixed with dust and animal sweat.

  Above it all, Chen Mo’s presence loomed like a silent executioner, unseen yet undeniable.

  The two Bone Forging experts worked fast, ruthless and efficient, driven by fear as much as obedience. This was not a raid they could afford to fail.

  Within minutes, the once-proud caravan was nothing more than wreckage and corpses, its survivors scattered into the wilderness, carrying with them only terror and disbelief.

  And at the center of it all, a single truth burned into Mo Yan and He Zuo’s minds.

  They had not followed a patron tonight.

  They had followed a calamity

  Mo Yan and He Zuo nodded, still shaken from the chaos of the raid, but they didn’t dare question Chen Mo. The valley had already imprinted the sheer lethality of his presence into their bones.

  They carefully drove the two carriages loaded with herbs, silks, and other valuables through the winding wilderness paths. Every rustle of the trees, every distant sound of wildlife made their senses sharpen, but the aura of Chen Mo following them was an invisible shadow, calm yet oppressive.

  After a long stretch of travel, they came to a halt in a secluded clearing. Chen Mo was already there, standing silently like a dark silhouette against the fading light. His calm presence contrasted sharply with the chaos they had left behind.

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  “Store the goods in the agreed locations,” Chen Mo instructed, his voice low but unwavering. “The others will retrieve them later. Abandon the carriages and bring only the silver and gold with you. We will meet at the mansion tonight.”

  Mo Yan and He Zuo exchanged quick, tense glances, then obeyed immediately. They unloaded the precious cargo, leaving the empty carriages behind, and secured the silver and gold. The weight of their compliance felt less like servitude and more like survival, a lesson reinforced by the shadow of Chen Mo that never left them.

  As they remounted the remaining carts and started the journey back toward the city, the quiet wilderness seemed heavier than before, carrying the memory of carnage and the silent, inexorable presence of the one who had orchestrated it all.

  Sun Bo nodded vigorously, still panting from the hurried ride, his excitement barely contained. “Yes, my lord. Everything has been accounted for. We counted at least three hundred thousand taels of silver and gold, not to mention the resources that will be retrieved later.”

  Chen Mo’s expression remained calm, almost indifferent, but his eyes held a sharp, commanding edge. “Good. Handle the rest as you see fit. I only need to see the Organ Refinement medicines delivered here in the next few days. Also,” he added, his tone clipped but firm, “reward those two protectors of yours, and make sure they don’t leave the mansion during this period.”

  Sun Bo bowed again, his excitement tempered by awe. “As you command, my lord. I will see to it personally.”

  Chen Mo’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, silent and calculating, before turning away to his courtyard, already planning the next step of his relentless ascent.

  Qin Long, head of the Imperial Trade Hall, sat in the main hall with composed authority, a chessboard spread between him and Gao Lei. The two Organ Refinement experts were the twin pillars of the Trade Hall in Jian City, men whose presence alone deterred most ambitions before they were even spoken.

  A bead clicked softly against the board.

  Gao Lei smiled, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re cornered,” he said lightly. “Three moves at most. Hahaha.”

  Qin Long’s expression darkened. He stared at the board, jaw tightening, already preparing a sharp retort when hurried footsteps echoed from outside.

  “My lord! My lord! Disaster!”

  The shout shattered the calm like a stone through glass.

  Qin Long seized the chance without hesitation, sweeping his sleeve and abandoning the game as he stood. “What is all this commotion?” he demanded, voice cold.

  The guard stumbled forward, pale and breathless. “My lord… the caravan. The one we sent three days ago. It was ambushed.”

  Qin Long’s pupils shrank. At the same time, Gao Lei rose to his feet, the smile gone from his face.

  “Who dares?” Qin Long asked, every word heavy with pressure.

  The guard hesitated, swallowing hard. “We… we just received word. A handful of survivors reached the city moments ago. They said the attack happened in the small valley, three days’ journey from here. They barely escaped with their lives.”

  Qin Long’s face hardened into iron. “Dispatch men immediately. Apprehend every survivor and interrogate them thoroughly.”

  He turned to Gao Lei, eyes sharp with killing intent. “Let’s go.”

  Without another word, the two experts vanished from the hall, their figures blurring as they set off to personally investigate the crime scene, the quiet fury of the Imperial Trade Hall finally stirring.

  Half a day later, Qin Long and Gao Lei arrived at the small valley. The scene that greeted them was a nightmare carved into reality. The once orderly caravan lay in ruin: overturned carts, shattered wheels, and scattered supplies littered the ground. Broken crates spilled herbs and medicinal ingredients across the dirt, crushed beyond salvage.

  The stench of smoke and iron clung to the air. Carcasses of animals used to pull the carriages lay twisted and broken, their eyes glazed over, throats torn. Human bodies were scattered among them—merchants, guards, and escorts alike—some frozen in terror, others in agony, blood pooling beneath them in dark, sticky puddles. Limbs were severed, clothing shredded, faces unrecognizable from the sheer force of the attack.

  Gao Lei stepped carefully among the wreckage, his sharp gaze sweeping over the carnage. “Who… could have done this?” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible over the groans of the wounded.

  Qin Long’s expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm behind his calm mask. Bones crushed, blood-soaked ground, overturned carriages—it was not a mere robbery, but a massacre executed with terrifying precision. Every instinct honed by years of Organ Refinement screamed that the force responsible was beyond ordinary bone-forging expertise.

  Smoke curled from the remains of a few scattered firepots; the sounds of the valley were punctuated only by distant cries and the heavy, uneven breathing of the few survivors who had dragged themselves away from the chaos. This was not a scene of chance—it was calculated, swift, and merciless.

  Qin Long took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the destruction. The valley bore witness to a singular fact: this was the work of an expert whose strength and cruelty far exceeded anything they had expected.

  Suddenly, a new presence swept into the valley—Commander Qi, arriving in haste. As he approached, Qin Long and Gao Lei straightened, and Qi cupped his hands in greeting. “Qin Long, Gao Lei,” he said, voice sharp yet controlled, before joining them in a careful inspection of the ravaged scene.

  The three of them moved among the wreckage, stepping over shattered carts, broken crates, and the scattered remains of animals and men. Qi’s trained eyes scanned the chaos, lingering on the pattern of destruction. Finally, he spoke, voice low but heavy with certainty: “Organ Refinement experts… at the very least.”

  Qin Long nodded in agreement, his face grim.

  Qi continued, “Did the caravan carry many valuables?”

  Gao Lei shrugged, masking a smirk. “Like you don’t know, Commander Qi…”

  Qi’s eyes flicked sharply to him. “What do you mean by that, Gao Lei? Do you think I’m somehow responsible?”

  Gao Lei waved a hand dismissively. “As the head of the army squad in the city, Commander, you are indeed responsible for any mishap.”

  Before tension could escalate, Qin Long interjected, his tone firm: “Enough. We are not here to blame Commander Qi. Rather, we need him to investigate the leak thoroughly. Whoever made this move knew exactly what the caravan carried.”

  Qi’s gaze hardened, his aura tense as he turned toward them. “And you must do the same with your own people. Make sure no detail is overlooked.” Without another word, he left, moving like a shadow disappearing into the valley’s edge.

  Qin Long and Gao Lei were left alone, silence settling over the wreckage.

  Gao Lei spat on the ground, muttering, “This bastard… the dog of Xu Haoran. I bet he’s behind this. He knew the goods were meant for the Second Prince and acted to disrupt it.”

  Qin Long’s jaw tightened. He had the same suspicion, but experience told him caution was key. “We need more evidence before we act. Someone this skilled won’t leave anything obvious behind. Let’s investigate carefully.”

  The two men stood over the carnage, the weight of the disaster pressing down like the valley itself had become a tombstone for the fallen.

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