Chapter 12: Escape

Chapter 12 - Escape "I'm free!" Lin Fan yelled, his voice cutting through the air as he sprinted across the blood-stained courtyard, a wide grin stretched across his face. The bodies of the guards he had taken down littered the ground behind him, their groans fading as his footsteps thundered forward. 'Don't get too excited yet, boy. You still need to get out completely,' the old man's voice echoed inside his mind. "I got you, old man," Lin Fan muttered between heavy breaths as he vaulted over a patch of thorny undergrowth, his robe catching on the edge but tearing free without slowing him down. Ahead loomed the outer perimeter wall. Without hesitation, Lin Fan gathered his strength, crouched, and launched himself upward. His hand gripped a loose stone at the top. For a heart-pounding moment, he nearly slipped—his foot landing awkwardly on the other side—but he rolled forward, hitting the dirt hard. Pain jolted through his knees and palms, but Lin Fan scrambled up instantly. A chorus of shouts erupted behind him: "He's getting away!" "After him!" "Don't let him escape!" "That way—he went over the wall!" Lin fan looked back: "Shit." He took off into the open fields. Tall stalks of grain brushed against him as he ran, their dry whispering a constant backdrop to his ragged breathing. He ducked low, weaving through the vegetation, every few steps glancing over his shoulder. Lin Fan knew all too well—if any high-level cultivator gave chase, he wouldn't last ten seconds. He didn't have the power to outrun them. Not yet. 'Calm down,' the old man's voice returned, this time slower, assessing: 'It seems you're in the clear. I don't sense anyone following.' Lin Fan finally came to a stop near the edge of a narrow creek. He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees, gulping down air like a man rescued from drowning. After a few moments, he reached up and wiped his forehead, flicking off the sweat that clung to his brow. "Hah... Holy hell," Lin Fan exhaled, falling back onto the damp grass, arms spread wide: "I still can't believe it. I'm in the Foundation Realm... so fast!" He laughed, a breathless, incredulous sound that came from deep in his gut. The joy was real—but it was tinged with disbelief. 'You should consider yourself lucky. Anybody else would've gotten their cultivation sealed,' the old man remarked, his voice dry but not without a touch of amusement. "Guess the heavens really do favor me," Lin Fan smirked. Suddenly— 'Move!' The old man's voice cut through Lin Fan's thoughts like a blade. "Huh? Why?" Lin Fan was confused by the sudden urgency. 'Move, you moron! I sense people heading this way right now!' That was all Lin Fan needed. He shot to his feet like a spring uncoiled, his fatigue instantly forgotten. "Damn it!" Lin Fan cursed, already sprinting over the creek. He splashed through the shallow water without hesitation, the cold soaking through his footwear, but he didn't slow. Not even for a second. He plunged into another stretch of tall grass beyond the bank, blades slicing across his skin as he forced his way through. Just as Lin Fan's figure vanished— Several cultivators descended from the sky. They landed with unnatural grace, the force of their arrival bending the grass outward in a ring. At their head stood Hei Long. His hands were folded behind his back, his robes fluttering slightly in the wind. His eyes scanned the area with cold precision. "He couldn't have gotten far," Hei Long said, his tone calm, but edged with threat: "Spread out." "As you command, Young Master," the men answered in unison, before vanishing in streaks of light, darting off in all directions. Hei Long didn't move. He simply stood there, eyes following the path Lin Fan had taken moments ago. A cruel smile curled at the corners of his lips. Hei Long knew exactly which direction he went. However— Chasing a protagonist at this stage? It was laughable. Fate protected Lin Fan like a divine shield. Coincidence, luck, and the heavens themselves would ensure his survival. But even knowing that... "Still," Hei Long murmured, voice laced with amusement, "this little game of cat and mouse is far too entertaining." A soft giggle answered him from behind. Slender arms wrapped around his waist. "Mmm... such a handsome expression," Li Mei purred, licking her lips as she peered over his shoulder. Her long lashes fluttered: "So manly~" Hei Long didn't flinch, didn't even look: "Mother." Li Mei ran her fingers across her son's chest, tracing lazy circles. "I do love watching you act like this," she whispered: "You're always so composed. It's intoxicating." Hei Long finally turned his head slightly: "Well~ let's not waste too much time." Li Mei chuckled, resting her chin on his shoulder: "Of course. Lead the way." . . . "A small village?" Li Mei stood with her arms crossed just beneath her chest, the wind gently playing with her hair as she narrowed her eyes at the scene below. They stood atop a low grassy hill. "He should be in there," Hei Long yawned, raising his hand and pointing toward a humble wooden hut situated on the very edge of the small village. Li Mei tilted her head, her eyes glowing faintly as she scanned the area. "You're sure?" she asked, her voice curious rather than skeptical: "Even I can't sense anything." Hei Long merely smirked. He didn't respond. Instead, he began descending the hill with a calm, unhurried pace, as if this entire detour was already scripted in his mind. Of course it was. Hei Long couldn't exactly say, "I know because I've read this harem novel." Li Mei raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips: "No answer? Hmph." She gave a soft sigh and followed after him. As the two approached— The small village began to stir— Murmurs spread among the people like wildfire. "That Qi..." "Who are they...?" "Such pressure..." The villagers—a mix of low-level cultivators and mere mortals—quickly realized they were in the presence of power far beyond their own. Most bowed their heads, averting their eyes and backing away to clear a path. They knew better than to show disrespect. But not everyone possessed sense. A few rough-looking men, their eyes drawn more to Li Mei. Their gazes were lecherous, undressing her with their eyes. Hei Long noticed immediately. He paused in his stride, his expression still calm—but something in his gaze darkened. Without a word, he floated lightly off the ground. A subtle surge of qi pushed against the dirt beneath him, and then—like a viper striking—he landed directly in front of the group. "What the—" one of the men began. A crack of lightning arced through the air. Hei Long's punch struck the nearest man in the face—and passed clean through it. There was a wet, crunching sound as the man's skull burst like overripe fruit. His body collapsed to the ground in a heap, blood spraying across the faces of his stunned companions. A heartbeat passed. Then, in a blur, Hei Long moved again. Another flash. Another explosion of bone and brain matter. One after another, their heads were removed from their bodies—neatly, brutally. None of them even had time to scream. By the time the blood had stopped spraying, four corpses lay in a row. Hei Long casually wiped his bloodstained hand on the corpse's robe, flicking away the residue like it was dirt. "It's rude to stare," he said simply, glancing back at the remaining villagers. The message was received. All who had been watching now looked firmly at the ground, trembling. Li Mei had heart eyes watching all this. "Tsk. So dramatic," she murmured. But her voice carried no disapproval. If anything, she sounded like she loved it: "Still, I suppose it's fair. Who told them to ogle what they can't have?"