On the slope’s crest, Li Gui trembled with rage, his jowls quivering.

“Shoot him… shoot that bastard dead!”

Pointing at Wen San in the valley below, his voice cracked in fury.

Damn it, this filthy puller dared to trick me?

Promised to lure those two kids, and he turned traitor?

A chill gripped Li Gui’s heart: Two kids?

Only the big puller was at the valley’s mouth—where was the other?

As if to confirm his fear, a blade’s gleam flashed in the distance.

Screams and wails erupted.

In the piercing blade’s light, severed limbs flew.

Bathed in blood rain, Liu Tang’s steps didn’t falter, charging straight for Li Gui!

His long saber glinted coldly under the sun.

“Stop him—stop him now!” Li Gui, soul-shattered, turned to flee, tripping over a pebble.

His fat body rolled like a ball for several steps.

Scrambling up, mud smeared across his face, he looked utterly wretched.

Seeing Liu Tang stalled by guards, he breathed a slight relief.

Then a vicious snarl crossed his face.

“Switch to guns—firearms!”

“Blast the bastard!”

Firearms existed before the Great Shun Dynasty.

Back then, they fired once and needed half a day to reload, far less effective than strong bows or crossbows.

The Great Shun Dynasty’s Sacred Ancestor, with ten thousand elite cavalry, swept from the White Mountains and Black Waters to conquer the realm.

That’s another bloody tale, set aside for now.

Firearms’ true power emerged with the five-colored ore beneath their feet.

Some clever soul refined a higher-grade gunpowder from five-colored gold and fire ore dust.

This made firearms true killing tools.

Even common folk could challenge martial artists with them.

Especially those below the seventh-grade Membrane-Condensing Realm—their skin couldn’t withstand a firearm’s force!

But they were tightly controlled. Marshal Zhang’s strict decrees forbade even martial halls from owning them.

In Forty-Nine City, only bandit strongholds and a few outer mines had them.

So, seeing Liu Tang carve through like slicing vegetables, Li Gui ruthlessly unleashed this weapon.

Bang, bang! The gunfire shook the earth.

The guards, just shooting arrows at the valley puller, now scrambled to load firearms, their trained hands fumbling.

A meticulously planned ambush, thrown into chaos by Wen San’s fearless defiance.

In the curling gunpowder smoke, a towering figure charged without fear.

Each flash of his blade claimed a life.

This gave Xiangzi, below the slope, his chance!

The heavy rickshaw, racing at full speed, kicked up dust in the valley.

Xiangzi gripped the handles, his face solemn, barely raising a brow at Wen San’s limp form on the ground.

Wen San must be dead—Xiangzi knew his Third Brother had used his life to warn him away.

Liu Tang had rushed out early—by plan, Xiangzi was to draw fire, letting Liu Tang strike the slope.

Xiangzi knew Liu Tang was buying him time with his life.

His hands, gripping the handles, bulged with veins, trembling slightly.

Even with the interface’s aid, his emotions—rage, pain, despair—surged beneath his stoic face.

He couldn’t lose control.

This was the chance Wen San and Liu Tang had bought with their lives.

He had two choices:

Rush to the boulder, save Uncle Jie and the others.

Or charge the other slope, relieving Liu Tang’s double-sided assault.

As if by instinct, a flicker of hesitation rose, and his eyes shrank—

By the boulder, a burly man, riddled with broken arrows, burst out with two short spears, roaring, “Xiangzi—charge the slope!”

Without a second’s pause, Xiangzi swung the rickshaw’s handles.

The cart arced smoothly, barreling toward the slope.

He glanced back, catching Wen San’s prone form.

They passed each other!

Wen San’s back bristled with arrows, his face bloodless, frothy blood bubbling from his mouth.

Sensing Xiangzi’s gaze, he strained to prop himself up.

“Xiangzi… Third Brother’s done for. Can’t protect you anymore. You gotta live!” Wen San shouted with his last strength.

Blood surged from his lungs, his words drifting faintly in the wind.

But Xiangzi heard every word, clear as day.

Seeing Wen San’s proud smile, Xiangzi grinned back, raising a thumb, shouting with all his might, “Master Wen, mighty!”

The wind was too strong, Wen San too wounded to hear.

But he knew Xiangzi was praising his Third Brother!

Satisfied, Wen San closed his eyes, his body crashing down, his smile lingering.

A tear slid from Xiangzi’s eye.

As he charged the other slope, Uncle Jie led the two remaining pullers out of the valley, rushing toward Liu Tang’s slope.

This was a certain death trap.

Yet Xiangzi and Liu Tang’s resolve, plus Wen San’s life-bought chaos, cracked open a sliver of hope.

Perhaps moved by Wen San, the two pullers shed their fear, grabbing spears and charging with Uncle Jie at the Li Family’s qi-and-blood martial artists.

The orderly firearm line faltered.

With Uncle Jie’s group as reinforcements, Liu Tang, caught between enemies, gained a moment to breathe.

But firearms were no trifling matter.

Liu Tang’s initial surprise advantage waned after cutting down several men, the fierce Li Family guards steadying their ranks.

How could a ninth-grade adept’s footwork outrun bullets?

Liu Tang had taken several shots.

Without Uncle Jie’s sudden charge splitting their focus, he’d have been gunned down.

The true shift came on the opposite slope—

Seizing the chaos, Xiangzi sprinted, reaching the crest in a blink, pushing his rickshaw.

Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s cart, fitted with heavy iron plates, had blocked bandit arrows before.

Now, those same plates stopped bullets.

With two pillars of qi and blood, Xiangzi’s strength surpassed a ninth-grade entry-level martial artist.

Under his Rickshaw Puller mastery, the cart became a steel beast, crashing into the crowd.

What terrified the guards was that, in such tight terrain, the cart moved unhindered, its speed unabated!

Guards who couldn’t dodge were flung aside.

Under the massive inertia’s brutal force, limbs flew, blood mist bursting around the cart.

Touch it, you’re hurt; hit it, you die.

No finesse, no technique—just raw, primal power.

In this narrow terrain, one man and one cart carried the momentum of an army.

Even Liu Tang couldn’t break the firearm line, but Xiangzi’s cart did!

In moments, he was close to linking with Liu Tang’s group.

Li Gui, watching, felt his eyes split with rage.

Who’d have thought such a perfect plan would be ruined by a few reckless pullers?

They’re insane—all of them!