Chapter Fifty-Three: The Rescue

Inside this room, bound and helpless, were all the bandits who had been wounded or knocked unconscious during the battle, losing the ability to fight any further. When the county guards swept the battlefield, they gathered these bandits together and locked them in this chamber.

According to some of the bandits, this room had originally been used to imprison hostages kidnapped for ransom, and Qi Jun’s own father had once been confined here. The irony was not lost on the bandits; the jail that had once served as a holding cell for their captives had now become their own prison.

Qi Jun stood silently at the doorway, surveying the bandits. Sensing the anger and murderous intent in his gaze, wherever his eyes swept, the bandits would lower their heads, avoiding his look, unable to meet it directly.

“Brothers, he’s the one who led those peasants and broke through our gates, killing the chief! Remember him, brothers—if we die and become ghosts, we cannot let him go!” cried a bandit crouched in the corner, seemingly a minor leader among them. Perhaps he was a staunch supporter of their chief, for he shouted his defiant slogan without fear upon seeing Qi Jun.

The other bandits were taken aback, turning to look at him, some with a hint of admiration in their eyes.

Qi Jun paused, then smiled.

“All right, then. Why don’t you become a ghost right now and show me? With all the evil you’ve committed, even in hell, you’d be ground to dust by the Underworld King!”

He snatched the sword from the county guard beside him and strode over, brandishing it without hesitation. In a moment, warm blood splattered across Qi Jun’s face, already contorted by hatred, and sprayed onto the faces and clothes of the surrounding bandits.

The bandit did not die immediately; as the blade struck, he let out a piercing, wretched scream. Qi Jun did not stop there, but continued to hack away.

Two strikes, three, four...

It wasn’t until a county guard, finally reacting, rushed forward hesitantly and seized Qi Jun from behind, dragging him out from amidst the captured bandits, that the slaughter ceased.

The minor leader was so mangled as to be unrecognizable, and from the half of his head lying on the ground, one could barely discern the despair, terror, and regret in his eyes before death.

Qi Jun had no recollection of how many times he had struck; his entire body was soaked in the blood of bandits. He lifted his hand to inspect the sword—its blade was curled and battered, like raging waves on a stormy sea.

He turned to glance at the county guard, patted his shoulder lightly, and returned the sword to him.

The guard, gazing at the man before him who seemed to have emerged from hell itself, shuddered, and the bloody blade almost slipped from his trembling hand.

All the bandits in the room had witnessed this infernal execution, their former bravado utterly gone. Now, each one shook like leaves in a storm, their fear of Qi Jun surpassing even the dread of the legendary demon king.

Even Sun Jiu and Deng Fang were stunned. The Qi Jun before them was nothing like the gentle, refined scholar they once knew; his decisiveness and ruthlessness in executing the bandit chilled them to the bone.

“Sir, these bandits deserve death, but you need not dirty your own hands,” Sun Jiu swallowed, his heart still racing as he watched Qi Jun’s back.

“Brother Jun, I understand you. Just thinking about what they did to those women makes me want to kill them myself. But you... you were frightening just now…” Deng Fang hesitated, standing at Qi Jun’s side.

“It was rash of me.” Qi Jun smiled, his demeanor returning to its usual calm.

Sun Jiu breathed a sigh of relief and quickly ordered a guard to fetch a basin of water.

Qi Jun washed away the dried blood from his face, and only then did he feel he had finally shed the guise of the vengeful demon and returned to himself.

“Sir, what should we do with the rest? Should we…” Sun Jiu gestured toward the bandits, drawing his hand across his throat.

“Bring them all out and have them stand in the courtyard,” Qi Jun said coldly after a moment’s thought.

Having seen what befell their comrade, the bandits knew their fate was sealed. They cried and begged for mercy as the guards dragged them out, some so terrified they soiled themselves, the stench forcing guards to cover their noses.

“Master, I know I was wrong! Please, spare me! I promise to live honestly from now on!”

“I never killed anyone, I swear! I’m sorry for what I’ve done…”

“Please, give me a quick death… don’t do that to me…”

Their desperate pleas and wails filled the air, making Qi Jun and his companions’ heads ache.

“Enough! Whether you live or die is not for me to decide. They will decide!” Qi Jun pointed to the room where the women were, signaling Sun Jiu to invite them out.

Sun Jiu led two guards into the room, but the women, seeing them, reacted just as they had upon seeing the bandits—crying out in terror and huddling in the corners.

“Sir…” Sun Jiu came out helplessly, shaking his head at Qi Jun.

“It’s because of your uniforms,” Qi Jun said with a glance. “Take them off and try again.”

Sun Jiu paused, looked at the guards, then at himself, and reluctantly removed their soldier garb before re-entering.

This time, as they tried to coax the women out, the panic and resistance, as Qi Jun predicted, lessened. Some ventured to the doorway but retreated upon seeing the guards outside.

Qi Jun understood how terribly these women had suffered at the hands of the bandits, and that the authorities had never stood up for them. Now, seeing both bandits and soldiers, their instinct was to recoil in fear and distrust.

“You’ve all suffered so much. Don’t be afraid; we’re here to save you. The bandits have been defeated, and you are now free!” Qi Jun said sincerely from the doorway.

Upon seeing Qi Jun, the women no longer exhibited their earlier terror. Many listened to his words with hesitant hope.

“Trust me, no one will harm you again. Come with me—we’ll send you home to reunite with your families. Don’t you long to see them? Don’t you want to go home?” Qi Jun continued, sensing the shift in their emotions.

Soft sobbing spread among them, and soon the room was filled with the sound of suppressed, heartfelt weeping.

Sun Jiu watched the women and sighed deeply, beginning to understand Qi Jun’s earlier anger.

Qi Jun knew the fear and grief long pent up in their hearts needed release. He said nothing more, only watched them quietly.

A young woman wiped her tears and looked up at Qi Jun; her intuition told her this young scholar could be trusted. Slowly, she stood and walked toward the doorway.

Sun Jiu and the guards stepped aside. She reached the threshold, gazed at the blue sky, and reached out to touch the precious sunlight.

After a moment, she no longer hesitated, stepping out on her scarred feet into the courtyard. Seeing the bound bandits, she instinctively hid behind Qi Jun.

Qi Jun was touched by her trust. He glanced back and gave her a gentle smile, then spread his arms before her—a symbolic gesture, yet it gave her a long-lost sense of safety and protection.

Following her lead, more women gradually emerged from the room, until the last one finally stepped out.

“Sir, there are thirty-five women in total,” Sun Jiu counted and reported to Qi Jun.

“Is that all? Where’s the girl I saved at Dragon’s Claw Peak?” Qi Jun remembered the girl who had nearly been violated in the watchtower, wondering if these women were her companions.

“She and a few others are in the house behind the gate. After you mentioned it, I sent someone that night. They’re well,” Sun Jiu pointed toward the gate at the back of the courtyard.

“Bring them here too.” Knowing the girl and her companions had been rescued, Qi Jun felt relieved.

Soon, the guards opened the gate and led several girls over. The leading girl, upon seeing Qi Jun, burst into tears, hurried forward, and knelt at his feet.

Before Qi Jun could help her up, she knocked her head repeatedly against the ground.

“Sisters, he is the one who saved us! Come, bow to our benefactor!” She ignored the blood seeping from her wounded forehead, calling to the others.

The girls hesitated, then rushed forward to kneel with her.

“Oh, you mustn’t! What are you doing? Please, get up!” Qi Jun reached out to help her, turning to Deng Fang. “Deng Fang, why are you just standing there? Help me get them up.”

“Ah? But… men and women…” Deng Fang blushed, scratching his head awkwardly.

“Now’s not the time for such formalities!” Qi Jun said, still holding the girl.

“Oh…” Deng Fang bit his lip, took a girl’s sleeve, and gently helped her up with comforting words.