The mountain path grew more rugged. The trees on either side gradually thinned, revealing bare rock. Wind whistled through the crevices, carrying a grim, chilling air.

Before long, a towering peak appeared ahead. It was several hundred meters high, steep and rocky, looking like a crouching behemoth from a distance.

A thought struck Yang Jing. He recognized this mountain. It was called Yunshan, and it stood right at the border of Yuhe County, Jiujiang County, and Caozhou.

This area was a lawless no-man’s-land, and had always been a den for bandits. It was utter chaos.

’So the Flying Horse Thieves’ lair really is hidden here.’

He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the procession ahead.

He saw the Flying Horse Thieves urging their carriages up a rugged path, one so narrow that only two people could walk side-by-side. The clatter of hooves on loose stones was exceptionally clear in the quiet mountains.

Yang Jing maintained a distance of several dozen yards, using the rocks and low shrubs for cover as he shadowed them step for step.

At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the four men from the Cao Bang following as well, back and to his left in the dense woods. They were being extremely cautious, sticking to the shadows. Apparently, they also wanted to scout out the Flying Horse Thieves’ lair.

As the procession continued its ascent, the mountain path gradually grew less steep.

After another fifteen minutes or so, the outline of a mountain stronghold appeared in a hollow.

The stronghold was built from thick pine logs. A fence nearly twenty feet high, covered in sharp spikes, completely enclosed the hollow.

Two watchtowers stood at the entrance. A few bandits were on top of each, cradling their sabers and chatting idly. They would occasionally glance down the mountain, their faces full of languor.

When the Flying Horse Thieves’ procession reached the gate, their leader, Li Qianxiong, shouted a password, and the bandits in the watchtowers immediately lowered the drawbridge.

Carriage after carriage rolled through the gate, their hooves thudding dully against the wooden planks of the drawbridge.

Yang Jing crouched behind a massive boulder, carefully scanning the stronghold’s layout.

As the last carriage entered the stronghold and the drawbridge began to rise, a sharp glint flashed in Yang Jing’s eyes.

The bandits in the watchtowers had clearly let down their guard. They were huddled together, bragging about something, not looking toward the rocks at all.

’Now’s my chance!’

Yang Jing took a deep breath. The internal energy in his body surged as he fully unleashed his Raging Tides Kick.

His body shot out like an arrow. With a light tap of his toes on the rock, he launched himself into the air, clearing a distance of several dozen feet as he pounced toward the stronghold’s fence like a night owl.

Just before hitting the fence, he twisted in mid-air and pushed off the top beam with his foot, launching himself even higher. He landed steadily on the ground inside the palisade, making only the faintest, nearly inaudible sound.

The instant he landed, Yang Jing rolled behind a pile of firewood. He held his breath and quickly scanned his surroundings.

The stronghold was boisterous. Many bandits were cheering around the carriages of silver, while others walked back and forth, shouldering their weapons. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Yang Jing relaxed slightly and began to consider his next move. The priority was to find where Senior Brother Liu was being held.

Crouching behind the firewood pile, Yang Jing observed the entire stronghold.

The encampment covered a wide area and was primarily made up of simple wooden huts scattered here and there. Many had thatched roofs and looked rather dilapidated.

In the open spaces between the huts, several army-green tents were pitched, with piles of miscellaneous items next to them.

In the distance, the bandits who had escorted the carriages were cheering together. The burly man suspected to be Li Qianxiong, leader of the Flying Horse Thieves, pried open a chest of silver, grabbing silver ingots and tossing them in the air for fun. The ruckus echoed throughout the entire stronghold.

Most of the men’s attention was fixed on the silver, and even the patrolling bandits walked about carelessly.

Yang Jing seized the opportunity. He shot out like a cat, using the shadows of the huts for cover as he moved swiftly through the encampment.

His objective was clear: first, confirm if Liu Maolin was still alive, and then find where he was being held.

But there were far too many huts in the stronghold—several dozen at least. If he searched them one by one, he would likely be discovered by the patrols before he found his man.

Yang Jing’s brow furrowed slightly. His eyes scanned the area, searching for an opportunity.

Soon, he saw a tall, skinny bandit emerge from a latrine, pulling up his pants. Looking slightly drunk, the man stumbled westward, all alone.

A glint in his eye, Yang Jing silently followed him.

As they passed an empty hut, he suddenly accelerated, circling behind the tall, skinny man like a phantom. He clapped his left hand over the man’s mouth while his right hand pressed a drawn dagger to his throat.

"Mmph!" The tall, skinny man jumped, startled. He was about to struggle when he felt a cold, sharp pain on his neck and instantly froze.

Yang Jing kept his voice to a low whisper, tinged with a chilling cold. "I’ll ask you once. The Young Hall Master of the Liu Family Medical Hall, the one you captured three days ago—where is he being held? Tell me the truth, or I’ll send you on your way right now."

The tall, skinny man’s eyes went wide. Muffled sounds came from his throat as he seemed to contemplate struggling again.

Yang Jing applied the slightest pressure with his wrist. The dagger’s edge sliced lightly across the man’s neck, and a line of blood immediately welled up, warm liquid trickling down his skin.

"HSSS—"

The man’s scalp went numb with terror, and the alcohol instantly vanished from his system. How could he possibly dare to struggle now?

He could feel the blade’s keen edge; if his captor applied even the slightest bit more force, his throat would be slit.

He began nodding frantically, indicating his willingness to talk.

Yang Jing loosened the hand covering the man’s mouth, but the dagger remained pressed to his neck. "Speak!"