Having It Is Your Skill, Stealing It Is Mine

On the official road outside the western city, a carriage moved slowly under the cover of night.

Two men sat inside the carriage. One, a youth in his early twenties, held a jet-black sword casket in his arms. The other possessed a resolute and calm demeanor, resting with his eyes closed on the opposite seat.

The young man could not hide the exhaustion on his brow, but the constant bumping of the carriage made it impossible for him to sleep.

Seeing the other man resting with closed eyes opposite him, seemingly unaffected, the youth could not help speaking up: “Uncle Liu... how can you sleep in a state like this? After riding in this carriage for days, I feel like I'm going to throw up my stomach...”

The man called Uncle Liu did not open his eyes, merely saying flatly, “If you want to travel the jianghu, you have to get used to it. When I was young, I often traveled from place to place without rest.”

“Sigh.” The young man sighed. The point was, they shouldn't have been rushing non-stop for days... He had thought he could get a good night's sleep tonight...

Just as he was feeling utterly miserable, the carriage suddenly ground to a halt.

Uncle Liu opened his eyes at that exact moment, his gaze sharp and without a trace of fatigue.

Holding the sword casket, the young man called out toward the outside in confusion, “Coachman, why did we stop?”

However, outside was dead quiet—not even the sound of birds or insects could be heard...

This abnormal atmosphere instantly alerted them that something was wrong!

Uncle Liu grabbed the young man's collar, broke through the carriage door with a bang, and charged out. At that very instant, four feathered arrows burst through the walls of the carriage.

Seeing this, the dangling young man swallowed hard involuntarily.

If Uncle Liu had not reacted so fast, they would probably have been turned into pincushions by now...

The two landed firmly on the ground. Uncle Liu released him and shouted toward their surroundings in a deep voice, “The Martial Alliance is here! Who dares hijack this carriage?”

His voice echoed through the silent mountain forest, but there was no response.

Meanwhile, up in a nearby tree, two figures observed them under the cover of night and foliage.

“Sister Qiu... what is the Martial Alliance?” Ning Qingzhu asked in a low whisper.

“The Martial Alliance is the largest jianghu organization in the Tianwu Kingdom. It gathers all sorts of martial experts from across the jianghu...”

The red-robed woman paused for a moment before speaking in surprise, “This man... is Iron Fist Master Liu Wu!”

Iron Fist Master... Liu Wu? Ning Qingzhu was startled in her heart. Although she did not recognize the name, seeing Sister Qiu's surprised expression was enough to know this man was no ordinary figure.

“Looks like there’s going to be a tough battle ahead. You must remember: do you see the sword casket on that young man? Once you get the item, leave immediately—do not linger to fight.” The red-robed woman instructed once more, underscoring the item's importance.

Ning Qingzhu nodded. Exchanging a glance, the two leapt down from the tree simultaneously.

The red-robed woman flicked her arm in midair, shooting two feathered arrows from her sleeves in an instant. Under the cover of darkness, they struck at Uncle Liu like lethal vipers.

Hearing the faint whistle of tearing air, Uncle Liu's instinct honed over years of wandering the jianghu kicked in immediately. He kicked the young man beside him.

“Ah!”

The young man holding the sword casket was sent flying, and Uncle Liu used the momentum to retreat to the side, narrowly dodging the arrow attack.

He could even feel the fierce wind whipped up by the arrows in that brief instant.

Before Uncle Liu could regain his footing, the red-robed woman had already closed in and struck first. Seamlessly blending into the night, her daggers jabbed relentlessly at his vital points, every strike aimed to kill!

Uncle Liu retreated repeatedly. He caught the faint, foul stench in the air—the daggers were coated with deadly poison.

This meant he did not have even the slightest margin for error.

He could not attack, could not block, and could not even deflect the momentum; a single scratch meant certain death!

Yet that was not the most lethal part...

He could not see her attacks at all—only the vague flicker of a shadowy form—forcing him to rely purely on instinct to dodge.

No... if this continues, I’ll definitely die! Alarm bells rang wildly in Uncle Liu's mind as he frantically searched for a countermeasure.

On the other side, Ning Qingzhu also launched her attack. Holding no weapons, she struck repeatedly like she was practicing on a wooden dummy.

Yet these seemingly casual strikes felt inexplicably bizarre and unpredictable to the young man...

After every attack, she appropriately blocked his counterattacks, even using his own momentum to draw him into her rhythm.

It was as if every flaw left open in her strikes was intentional...

They had only been locked in combat for a short while, yet he already felt overwhelmed, his steps retreating again and again.

In an instant, both of them were plunged into a disadvantageous position.

Still fighting, Uncle Liu noticed this as well. Faced with the crisis, he hardened his resolve, no longer blindly dodging and defending.

He skillfully used his wrist to deflect the red-robed woman's attack, avoiding the lethal poison on the daggers while attempting to counterattack.

The dagger thrust forward again, but Uncle Liu sidestepped to avoid it. Simultaneously, he pressed the back of his hand onto her wrist, stepped forward aggressively, snapped his waist, and unleashed a savage left fist!

The five raised calluses on his knuckles became the ultimate weapon. The red-robed woman's pupils shrank, the breath of death rushing at her face!

Without a moment's hesitation, she shot backward. But Uncle Liu had no intention of letting her go, his footwork keeping pace right behind her.

The tables had turned completely.

The red-robed woman was caught in Uncle Liu's relentless offensive. Every one of his punches was heavy and unembellished, yet every move was lethal.

“Hurry! I can't hold out much longer!” the red-robed woman shouted loudly, fine cold sweat continually pouring from her forehead.

Hearing Sister Qiu's anxious voice, Ning Qingzhu's heart tightened. The mounting pressure of time made her heart race, while her expression grew increasingly cold.

The young man had already drawn the sword from the sword casket. Grasping the longsword tightly in his hand, his eyes locked onto the girl before him.

This was precisely why Ning Qingzhu had been unable to defeat him quickly. Just having the longsword slice past her cheek set every hair on end, leaving her scalp feeling numb with chill.

But with time pressing, there was no room for second thoughts!

Pushing off hard with her feet, her body shot toward the young man in an instant.

At the same time, the young man closely monitored her movements. Through their previous skirmish, he had already spotted a pattern—the woman's footwork was erratic, but her third step always landed on her right foot first.

This was Ning Qingzhu's biggest flaw: a complete lack of real combat experience, rendering her moves rigid and unadaptable.

Sure enough, as she closed the distance, her third step landed on her right foot. He thrust his longsword fiercely toward the spot where her foot would land!

Ning Qingzhu's pupils shrank. The tip of the longsword grew larger and larger in her vision, as if it would pierce between her brows in the very next breath...

The longsword emitted a crisp ring as its blade deflected by an inch, dangerously grazing past Ning Qingzhu's brow and severing a lock of hair straying by her temple.

The young man felt a sudden jolt through his hands. The webbing between his thumb and forefinger went instantly numb, and the longsword flew out of his grip.

Ning Qingzhu was the first to snap back from the brink of death. She instantly lunged forward and reached out to catch the longsword.

With the item in hand, she turned and left without the slightest hesitation, her form weaving through the trees before quickly disappearing.

Seeing their goal accomplished, the red-robed woman did not linger either. Taking a strike from Uncle Liu, she leveraged the force to retreat, her form vanishing into the darkness shortly after...

Only the two battered men were left behind in the open glade.

Uncle Liu panted heavily, though it was hard to tell whether from exhaustion or rage.

He glared fixedly in the direction they had vanished, saying not a word.

The young man's hands were still trembling, cold sweat drenching his forehead. What had just happened...? His sword strike was clearly about to land!

The two stood there in silence. Just then, the coachman woke from his knocked-out state.

The moment he woke up and saw the dark faces of the two men, he trembled in terror, not daring to utter a single word.

“Drive the horses! To Jinling City!” Uncle Liu said coldly. The coachman nodded repeatedly, and the three boarded the carriage, speeding off into the night...

The sounds of birds and insects echoed in the forest once more. As they departed, a few leaves slowly drifted down from a tree not far away.

Wafting along with them was the faint scent of peach blossoms carrying on the gentle breeze...