Why do I have so many masters?

Wang Anfeng's body trembled slightly, yet the sounds of Buddhist chants and the whistling of swords reached his ears, suppressing his fury. Mr. Ying had instructed him to first understand the situation, then make decisions, and not to act rashly. The words were no longer cold, but they contained a hidden wrath.

He understood, but his anger had not subsided in the slightest.

The image of the noble thieves from the tales, who cried out from the forests, rid the people of evil, robbed the rich to aid the poor, instantly shattered, revealing a stark reality. The new corpse was that of a delicate and charming young girl, with a gentle face, who had died in agony, yet her expression bore a hint of relief and liberation.

The red-hot iron shoes were not feared; they danced wildly.

Danced to death.

How despairing must one be to regard such a horrific death as a form of joyful release? To dance in the flames, to look upon those stunned bandits. At that moment, was the expression one of pride and satisfaction?

Wang Anfeng's palms trembled slightly, and the inner strength within his body surged like thundering roars.

The young girl was scarcely a year older than he.

He had stepped into Jianghu with a heart yearning for paradise. But upon looking back, he witnessed the most grotesque scenes of the eighteenth level of Hell.

On the way, they passed several low houses built of yellow mud and soil, without any doors or windows, only enclosed with iron bars. Many people were penned inside, men and women, young and old, their faces numb. Many were shivering in the cold wind, dressed only in thin single-layer garments.

On the southern side of a high wall hung iron torture implements, fresh bloodstains proving they were not mere ornamental playthings. Burly bandits with brutish attitudes and strong, powerful physiques stood nearby, idly chatting, while the captured common folks were forced to labor strenuously. The slightest pause would invite a lash from a whip.

Wang Anfeng was temporarily thrown into a cell, while those men went off, laughing loudly.

Seven or eight people were in the room, most of them already resembling walking corpses. Only an elderly man still showed some signs of life. Seeing him come in, the old man offered a bitter smile and said,

"Damn scoundrels, to have captured another."

Wang Anfeng's gaze shifted and fell upon the elder. His mind was filled with unprecedented rage. By nature kind-hearted, his reaction to such atrocities was even more intense. He murmured hoarsely,

"How can it be that in my vast Great Qin, such bandits and such tragedies still exist?"

"Why?"

The old man let out a bitter laugh and said, "It is precisely because our Great Qin is strong and its territory vast."

"It can establish the foundation of the nation and bring together all the great outlaws, but these little groups of mountain bandits are like lice on a behemoth, difficult to catch and manage. What's more, once we deal with them, a new batch emerges."

"Great Qin also suffers. We cannot recall the eighteen Dragon Guards for these petty lice, otherwise, the wolves around us will again become restless, leading to even more dreadful deaths. But if ordinary guards take action, these bandits, sly as they are, simply scramble about the mountains and hide in caves, striking only when they see an easy target.

It's hard to exterminate them without setting fire to the mountains, and that's of little use."

"Yet to set the mountains ablaze would make the common people's lives even harsher. There are countless local officials whose hearts are breaking yet they are helpless, literally coughing up blood."

Wang Anfeng opened his mouth and asked,

"Then... what can be done...?"

The elder sighed and said,

"Who knows... These martial artists are strong and robust, innately wicked, inherently lazy. There will always be many who are unwilling to live honest lives. Burglary and robbery are quick money-making schemes, and they even get to be called heroes of the Green Forest. Why not do it?"

"This is the so-called 'using martial arts for crime,' bringing about evil deeds! As the saying goes, 'without the sage, the great thief cannot be stopped.' If the world never had any martial arts, perhaps there wouldn't be so many thieves and bandits who prefer idleness to an honest living... What heroes, pah! This old man has never seen a good thief!"

The old man rambled on while Wang Anfeng leaned against the wall, his thoughts churning. The rage that had rushed to his head slowly subsided, and he gradually regained his reason. Yet his thoughts began to shift as the hand resting on his knee slowly clenched.

After nearly half an hour had passed, someone opened the cell door and pulled up Wang Anfeng, who was shackled in iron chains, and said,

"The boss is calling for you. Heh, you better hope that woman pleases the boss well. He's in quite a temper today."

As he spoke, he led Wang Anfeng away. The elder wanted to say something but ultimately could only sigh, sitting down in defeat. Then, suddenly overcome with anger, he pounded the ground with a heavy fist and cursed,

"Damn scoundrels, why doesn't heaven just smite them with a bolt of lightning!"

Even though the bandit knew that the young boy behind him might know martial arts, he felt secure.

How much strength could one have when shackled in three hundred pounds of chains?

But just as they turned a corner where no one was present, a tremendous force struck the bandit on the neck, causing him to collapse silently into Wang Anfeng's arms. Wang Anfeng avoided looking and dragged the bandit into the shadows under the moon. At that moment, Mr. Ying's voice suddenly reached his ears.

"Enter Shaolin."

Wang Anfeng fell silent and disappeared into the shadows. As soon as he had entered the Shaolin realm, he saw Mr. Ying, standing with hands clasped behind his back on a lonely peak. The Scholar looked at him with a cold smile and asked,

"Do you want to kill these people?"

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"Do you know how many masters there are?"

"Are you aware that perhaps among them, there are people compelled by their own difficult circumstances, forced against their will to become outlaws?"

Wang Anfeng fell silent, casting a glance at the nearby monk Ci, and for the first time, he shed his subservient disciple demeanor and looked directly at Mr. Ying, saying:
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"Under the Great Qin Legal Code, he who commits murder shall have the principal offender beheaded and the accomplice hanged. Their progeny will be exiled for three thousand li!"

"Under the Great Qin's harsh laws against banditry, those who gather and roar in protest will be put to death without guilt!

The principal offender's property is to be rewarded in full to the whistleblower, his wife and children exiled for three thousand li, relegated to servile status, and put to hard labor for three years, and the accessories to murder who did not report it shall also be put to death without guilt!"

Mr. Ying's face turned stern, and he scoffed with a sneer:

"Naïve! Who do you think you are?"

"With a nature as simple and straightforward as yours, seeing everything in black and white, you are the easiest to be used as someone's weapon."

"But..."

The sound paused, and a gleam appeared in the scholar's eyes as he sized up Wang Anfeng from head to toe, then suddenly burst into laughter, exclaiming:

"Wishing to penalize what the law has trouble addressing, to kill what Heaven and Earth have yet to kill, good! Very good! Excellent!"

"There are many witnesses to this matter, which will surely draw attention from all sides. You cannot use your real identity."

With a wave of his right hand, a set of ink-colored garments suddenly appeared on the youth, fitting perfectly without any decorative patterns, except for the pure white unblemished collar and cuffs, creating a stark contrast with the black. He looked like an executioner from the Underworld, exuding a subdued chill.

In Mr. Ying's hand appeared a green bamboo stick, straight and upright, still wet with morning dew.

He casually tossed it to Wang Anfeng, saying.

"This object can add a hint of Yin to your Thunder Vigor, making it easier for you to conceal your tracks."

Wang Anfeng took the bamboo stick, and as the Thunder Vigor poured into it, thunder snakes coiled around the bamboo, no longer as fierce as before, but with an added softness and a deep purple hue. He fell silent for a moment before bowing with his hands clasped and saying:

"Thank you, sir."

The scholar in front of him waved his hand dismissively, and a cast-iron mask appeared in his hand, ready to be placed upon the youth's face.

But a palm grasped his wrist.

Mr. Ying looked mildly surprised.

The young man took the mask from his hand, which was carved with a Bi'an, one of the seven sons of a dragon, a creature that discerns right from wrong and judges impartially, its tiger-like eyes coldly staring at Wang Anfeng as if they were the eyes of the pretty girl in the sunset.

Images of everything he had witnessed earlier surfaced in his mind, his fingertips slightly cold, Wang Anfeng softly said:

"Let me do it, sir..."

As he spoke, the youth raised his hand to place the mask on his face, fitting perfectly, the eyes of the Bi'an mask revealing a pair of distinctly black and white eyes.

The scholar looked surprised, then nodded slightly, stepping back to look at the youth before him.

Dressed in black with his black hair cascading over his shoulders and wearing the fierce, solemn Bi'an mask.

The metal carried a subtle chill, strands of black hair slightly disheveled; the all-black attire gave the youth an added sense of chill. The determination to kill within him made the chill even more intense, satisfying Mr. Ying's gaze, who nodded slightly and said.

"Give yourself a name."

The youth's eyes remained clear as he turned around with his sword, fell silent for a moment, and said in a gentle voice.

"Yi Nanping."

In a blink, the figure had vanished from Shaoshi Mountain.

The Shi Family sighed, a scholar brings chaos with words, and heroes violate bans with martial prowess.

After all, intent is hard to pacify.

PS: A long chapter to offer,

This marks one of the turning points in Wang Anfeng's character... He can still be kind and sincere, but he can no longer be so naïvely like a child untouched by the world, he must grow up after all.

Then, I feel... it's the presence of darkness and chivalry that makes Jianghu, and precisely because of the darkness, the spirit of the martial hero shines all the more brightly and is all the more precious...

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