Young hero, stay put and don't be reckless.

Chapter 14 Innocence

Jiang Xun felt that he really had to confess this time.

The sound of the wind filled my ears, making them ring and leaving my mind blank.

He could even see the jagged edges of the cliff face, each one menacing and ready to tear him apart.

If you fall on it, you're guaranteed to die; you won't even get a complete corpse.

At that very moment—

A surge of heat suddenly welled up deep in my lower abdomen, as if something had been suddenly ignited.

It didn't start burning slowly; it was a sudden "boom," like someone poured a bucket of oil into his stomach and threw a torch in.

The heat surged incredibly fast, spreading to every part of his body in the blink of an eye, making him shudder and even the roots of his hair feel hot.

Then, he felt lighter.

Light as a feather, as a wisp of smoke, as a withered leaf swept up by the autumn wind.

The speed of the fall was still there, the sound of the wind was still there, but the sensation in my body had completely changed.

He instinctively twisted his waist, his toes brushing against the cliff face—

He was actually moved two zhang to the side!

It didn't slide down, it moved sideways.

It was as if someone had pulled him up in mid-air.

He tapped it again.

Another two zhang.

He stepped onto the almost vertical cliff face, tapping several times, his figure swaying left and right between the cliffs, like a headless swallow.

One last glance revealed an old pine tree peeking out from the lower diagonal, growing crookedly in a crack in the rock.

He suddenly gathered his strength and darted toward the pine tree.

"Click—"

The pine branch, as thick as a bowl, snapped in response. His descent slowed slightly, but he fell another three or four zhang (approximately 10-12 meters) before crashing heavily to the ground.

The dust made him cough, and the gravel hurt his back.

"Cough, cough..."

Jiang Xun lay on the pile of rubble, coughing for a long time until tears came to his eyes.

Every inch of my body ached, as if I had been pounded from head to toe with a stick and then crushed with a stone.

His ribs hurt, his back hurt, his arms hurt, his legs hurt, even the roots of his hair hurt, and the pain made him grimace.

Despite the pain, he was still alive.

Just live.

"I'm so lucky to be alive..." he muttered, his voice hoarse like a broken gong, as he slowly raised his hand.

My fingers were still trembling slightly, not because of the pain, but because of the feeling I had just experienced—that surge of heat, those fleeting movements, it felt like a dream, yet a million times more real than a dream.

He clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

What happened with those few blows just now?

Jiang Xun lay on the ground for a long time, until the morning light changed from hazy to bright, before slowly propping himself up.

All around was quiet, with only the rustling of the morning breeze through the treetops and a few birdsongs in the distance, crisp and clear, which seemed completely out of place in this desolate and desolate place.

Jiang Xun looked down at himself—his clothes were torn in several places, revealing bruises and welts on his skin, as if someone had splashed paint all over him.

Strangely, there were no broken bones or major bleeding.

He tried moving his arms and legs.

It can move, it can move, but it's incredibly sour.

"I'm so lucky..." he muttered again, then stood up, leaning against the tree trunk.

He had just regained his footing when he suddenly froze.

Three zhang away, under an old pine tree, stood a person.

Dressed entirely in black, from head to toe, with a black cloth covering his face, only his eyes were visible.

Those eyes were staring at him, their light terrifying, like two lamps.

Jiang Xun's mind went blank for a moment.

Jiangzhou.

A dilapidated temple.

The morning the old man died.

It's this man in black!

He recognized those eyes at a glance, and he could never forget them, not even in his dreams.

He instinctively took a step back, his back slamming against the tree trunk, making him wince in pain, but he dared not cry out.

The man in black didn't move, just stared at him as if he were watching a fledgling bird that had fallen from a tree.

Jiang Xun swallowed hard, his mind racing—

Run? Where can you run to in this desolate wilderness? The guy is standing there like a tree; he's obviously not a good guy.

Fight? In this state, with my whole body aching and barely able to stand, how can I fight?

The man in black spoke.

"Hand over the items."

The voice was cold, as cold as well water in winter, so cold that Jiang Xun shrank his neck.

But Jiang Xun was stunned.

That sound—

female?

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when suddenly everything went black.

The man in black was already in front of him, one hand gripping his neck, the cold fingers clamping down like iron clamps.

Jiang Xun didn't even see how she moved; he couldn't even catch a glimpse of her.

"Hand over the stuff," she repeated, her voice as cold as ice.

Jiang Xun was choked so hard he could hardly breathe, his face flushed red. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the sandalwood box haphazardly, and handed it over with trembling hands.

The man in black took the box, opened it, and glanced inside. Inside lay several neatly arranged pages of yellowed silk.

She flipped through it, and then—

He threw the box on the ground.

"That's not it."

Jiang Xun froze, gasping for breath.

"What do you want?"

The man in black didn't speak, but he tightened his grip, and a chill spread from his neck.

Jiang Xun's vision went black, his consciousness was as if it had been extinguished, and he knew nothing more.

I don't know how much time has passed.

Jiang Xun was awakened by the pain.

It wasn't the kind of excruciating pain, but rather a kind of aches and pains all over your body, a tingling sensation that felt like your bones were being squeezed dry, like someone had poured a whole jar of aged vinegar down your throat.

He opened his eyes and found that it was already broad daylight. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, and dappled light fell on his face, making it a little dazzling.

He lay in a patch of grass, with a layer of dry, soft grass beneath him.

It's quite comfortable.

Jiang Xun blinked and slowly turned his head—

Three zhang away, under that old pine tree, is the same person.

The man in black sat cross-legged, motionless, like a statue, and you couldn't even hear him breathing.

Jiang Xun looked down at himself—his clothes were still the same tattered ones, but the holes had been ripped open to barely cover his skin and prevent it from being exposed.

He paused for a moment, then—

He suddenly clutched his chest.

"What...what did you do to me?!"

The man in black opened his eyes and glanced at him.

His gaze was indifferent, as if he were looking at a noisy monkey, devoid of any emotion.

"What's all the noise about?"

"I...I..." Jiang Xun wrapped his outer robe around himself, curled up into a ball, and said pitifully, his voice carrying a hint of deliberate grievance, "I'm an innocent young man, and you took advantage of me while I was unconscious. How can I face anyone if word gets out—"

The man in black interrupted him, his tone as indifferent as if he were saying that the weather was nice today.

"Your internal energy is running rampant. I don't need to do anything; you won't live long."

Jiang Xun's words were stuck in his throat, like a fishbone stuck in his throat.

He blinked, the pitiful look on his face fading somewhat, revealing a hint of wariness, and his eyes darted around.

"How...how did you know?"

The man in black didn't answer, but instead took something out of his pocket and threw it in front of him, where it landed on the ground with a "thud".

Introduction to Internal Kung Fu.

Jiang Xun's eyes lit up, and he reached out to grab it, like a hungry dog ​​seeing a meat bun.

"This is the most rudimentary internal energy cultivation method," the man in black said, his voice unhurried. "But with the internal energy in your body, you can't control this little bit at all."

Jiang Xun's hand froze in mid-air, as if someone had struck an acupoint.

"There's that difference?"

"You don't know?" The man in black looked at him, his eyes filled with scrutiny, as if he were re-evaluating him.

Jiang Xun shook his head blankly, looking completely innocent.

The man in black paused for a moment.

"So, where did you get all that internal energy?"

"I don't know either!" Jiang Xun exclaimed anxiously, his voice rising several decibels. "It just suddenly appeared when I was being beaten, and then—"

He paused, recalling Liu Wei's distorted face and the punch he received in the alley.

Then someone was killed.

The man in black stared at him for three seconds.

The gaze wasn't heavy, yet it felt substantial, pressing down on Jiang Xun's back until it stiffened slightly, as if someone had placed a hand on his spine.

She stood up, walked up to him, and looked down at him.

"Who is that old man to you?"