’If they travel through the night after the attack, they’ve probably already returned to the Sect by now. It’s too late!’

Fear appeared on Qian Yong’s face. If that "compromised shipment" was discovered by the Sect, the harshest of tortures awaited him.

In an instant, fear crushed his anger.

His gaze fell once more upon the five battered, "useless fools" before him.

’It’s all their fault! Their incompetence ruined everything!’

’If it weren’t for their ineptitude, how could I have ended up in this situation?’

A violent killing intent sprouted and grew wildly in his heart, like a poisonous weed.

The five who had fled back seemed to sense that something was wrong. They felt the bone-chilling killing intent radiating from Qian Yong.

They looked up at Qian Yong in terror.

They saw the ferocious look on Qian Yong’s face gradually fade, replaced by an unsettling calm.

But beneath that calm, a volcano seemed ready to erupt.

"St... Steward..."

the scar-faced man stammered, his voice trembling with fear.

SWOOSH—

Qian Yong didn’t wait for the scar-faced man to finish. His portly body moved with an agility that defied his size.

In a flash, he was upon the five men.

The powerful Inner Qi of a Middle-Grade Martial Artist erupted from him. His palms glowed with an earthen-yellow light as he ruthlessly struck out, carrying a momentum as heavy as a mountain.

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! ...

Five dull thuds sounded in succession, like ripe watermelons being smashed.

The five Ninth Grade Martial Artists had no time to react before the terrifying Palm Force, infused with his Inner Strength, viciously struck their chests and heads.

The cracking of bones was clearly audible.

Their eyes bulged instantly, filled with utter shock, terror, and disbelief. It seemed that even in death, they couldn’t believe they hadn’t been killed by the enemy, but by the "master" they served.

Blood gushed from their eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouths. The five men crumpled limply to the ground, silenced in an instant.

’Sect investigators will be here soon. I can’t stay here long!’

Qian Yong withdrew his palms and stood, his chest heaving slightly. He stared at the five rapidly cooling corpses on the ground, his eyes as cold and placid as ice.

He quickly turned back to the stone house and deftly opened a hidden compartment, retrieving a heavy, medium-sized bundle he had prepared long ago.

Inside was the money he had earned from selling off the Spirit Iron.

He changed into a set of plain gray clothes, carelessly tossing his Steward’s Robe into a corner.

His gaze swept across the room, lingering on the fine decorations and calligraphy he had painstakingly collected. A flicker of reluctance showed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resolve.

’Nothing is more important than my life!’

He didn’t leave through the main door, maintaining the illusion that he was still inside. His fat figure slipped nimbly through the window like a civet cat, landing without a sound.

Knowing the mine’s layout like the back of his hand, he easily avoided several patrols, melting like a ghost into the dense forest at the edge of the mining area without drawing any attention.

He glanced back at the mine one last time, then departed without hesitation.

...

Just as the sky began to lighten, the majestic, blurry silhouette of Qingxuan Mountain came into view.

After a full night of hard travel, the convoy finally reached the foot of the Qingxuan Sect’s mountain.

The faces of Fang Han and the others showed unconcealable exhaustion. Their robes were stained with dust and dried blood, and their expressions were grave, marked by the recent life-or-death struggle.

Even the draft horses pulling the carts looked listless, snorting heavily.

The Mountain Guard Disciples at the gate were surprised and suspicious when they saw the convoy’s battered state, especially the clear signs of battle on Fang Han and his group.

After checking their Identity Tokens and asking a few questions, they let them pass.

The convoy followed the familiar bluestone path, heading straight for the plaza where the Task Hall was located.

In the early morning, the Task Hall was still quiet, with only a few disciples scattered about, turning in their missions.

Fang Han and the other four stepped into the main hall and walked directly to the handover counter.

Behind the counter sat a stern-faced Steward, his head bowed as he reviewed a scroll.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up. His gaze swept over the five of them, pausing on their torn clothes and bloodstains, and his brow furrowed slightly.

"Steward, we were ordered to escort a shipment of supplies from the Spirit Iron Mine back to the Sect. We were attacked by unidentified Martial Artists en route. Fortunately, we did not fail our mission and managed to repel them. The goods are here. Please inspect them for handover."

Fang Han stepped forward and presented the mission voucher. His voice was hoarse with fatigue, but still clear.

"Attacked?"

The Steward’s face showed clear surprise at his words, and his hand paused as he took the voucher.

"Someone dared to touch the Qingxuan Sect’s property within Qingyang County’s borders? Who were they? Did you get a clear look?"

As he spoke, he stood up and gestured for Fang Han and the others to follow him to the convoy parked outside the hall.

"There were about a dozen of them. Their methods were ruthless, and they were well-trained. They didn’t seem like ordinary bandits,"

Chen Ying added, his tone grave.

"Well-trained?"

The Steward’s steps faltered slightly. The surprise in his eyes deepened, and his expression grew more serious.

He walked quickly to one of the carts and carefully inspected the seal pasted on it, which bore the special mark of the Qingxuan Sect.

The seal was intact, with no signs of having been torn and re-stuck.

He infused a sliver of Inner Qi into his fingertip and swiped lightly. The seal broke with a snap.

He lifted the heavy, rain-proof tarp, revealing several tightly nailed wooden crates underneath.

He took out a small knife, pried open the nails on one of the crate lids, and lifted it.

However, the expected bluish metallic sheen of Spirit Iron was nowhere to be seen.

What met his eyes was a crate full of dusty, ordinary rocks!

The Steward’s face fell instantly, his gaze turning sharp as a knife.

He quickly pried open another crate next to it—the same thing!

He opened three or four crates in a row, and they were all filled with rocks!

"What... what is this?"

Noticing the change in the Steward’s expression, Fang Han and the others hurried over to look. They saw crate after crate filled with nothing but rocks.

Xiao Chen gasped, his face a mask of disbelief. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Shi Yong’s eyes widened. He subconsciously took a step forward to look into the crate, the muscles on his rugged face twitching.

Zhao Li’s pretty face turned pale, and she pressed her lips together tightly.

Fang Han’s pupils constricted slightly. His heart sank as a sense of foreboding washed over him.

"Steward, when we accepted this mission, Steward Qian Yong from the mine handled the handover personally. The seals on the crates were intact, and we never opened them on the way. We definitely did not switch the contents!"

Fang Han took a deep breath to suppress his shock and met the Steward’s now-frigid gaze, explaining in a low voice.

"All of you, wait here! Do not leave without permission, or you will be treated as fugitives attempting to escape justice!"

The Steward’s gaze was electric as it slowly swept over Fang Han and his group, then glanced at the anxious servants behind them.

Seeing that while the five were alarmed, they didn’t seem guilty or evasive, he couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

He pondered for a moment, knowing this matter was too significant for an ordinary Steward like him to handle.

After giving the cold command, he turned and hurried towards the Law Enforcement Hall.

CLACK CLACK CLACK—

Before long, the sound of urgent, disorderly footsteps approached.

The previous Steward returned, leading an Elder, several Stewards, and numerous Law Enforcement Disciples from the Law Enforcement Hall.

The Elder at the head of the group had a stern face and eyes as sharp as a falcon’s. It was none other than Elder Zhou Jin of the Law Enforcement Hall.

Elder Zhou Jin’s gaze swept over the scene, finally landing on the open crates filled with rocks. His expression instantly grew so dark it seemed water could drip from it.

"Separate everyone involved in this mission for individual questioning!"

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Law Enforcement Disciples immediately stepped forward, leading Fang Han’s group and the servants to different rooms.

Fang Han was taken to a spartan side hall containing only a simple table and chairs. The atmosphere was oppressive.

Two expressionless Law Enforcement Disciples stood guard at the door.

"Fang Han, you are to answer the following questions truthfully, without any concealment..."

A moment later, Elder Zhou Jin himself walked in, sat down opposite Fang Han, and began to question him in detail about every stage of the mission: its acceptance, the journey, the details of the ambush, and so on.

"Elder, after we arrived at the Spirit Iron Mine..."

Knowing his innocence was on the line, Fang Han dared not hide a single detail, recounting the entire process from beginning to end.

Elder Zhou Jin listened intently, interjecting now and then to ask about key details, his sharp gaze fixed on Fang Han the entire time.

The questioning lasted for nearly an hour before Elder Zhou Jin signaled for the recording disciple to stop writing. He gave Fang Han a deep look, then rose and left without another word.

Afterward, Fang Han and the other four were temporarily placed in a room guarded by Law Enforcement Disciples.

The room was completely silent.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on? We risked our lives to protect the cargo, and it turns out to be a bunch of rocks?!"

Shi Yong paced about irritably before finally punching the wall with a dull THUD.

Chen Ying leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought.

Xiao Chen sat on a stool with his head in his hands, looking thoroughly dejected.

Zhao Li sat quietly in a corner, unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, the worry on her lovely face plain to see.

Fang Han stood by the window, gazing out at the limited view, his expression calm.

He ran through the entire incident in his mind from start to finish before speaking slowly.

"The cargo was sealed when it was handed over at the mine, and we never opened it. The attackers had a clear objective and were ruthless. It felt more like they were trying to reclaim the goods rather than a simple robbery."

He paused and looked at the other four.

"I’m afraid it was Qian Yong. He stole the real Spirit Iron himself, replacing it. Then, fearing exposure, he sent men disguised as bandits to intercept us and destroy this ’compromised shipment’ on the road."

"But he never expected us to fight them off and bring this ’compromised shipment’ safely back to the Sect."

A sharp glint flashed in Chen Ying’s eyes as he said,

"Fang Han’s analysis makes sense. That would explain why the attackers had uniform equipment and didn’t resemble common bandits."

Realization dawned on Xiao Chen, followed by fury. "That Qian Yong! What a venomous scheme! He embezzled the goods himself but wanted us to be his scapegoats!"

Shi Yong snapped his head up, his eyes burning with rage. "If I get my hands on that bastard, I’ll skin him alive!"

Zhao Li let out a soft breath and said in a low voice, "Let’s just hope the Law Enforcement Hall can uncover the truth."