Jingzhou lies in the northwest of the Yue Kingdom, a relatively remote region where large cities are scarce. The terrain is predominantly hilly and rolling, with vast stretches of barren, sparsely populated countryside. As a result, Jingzhou has a significantly higher number of bandits and outlaws compared to other provinces, making it one of the most diverse and mixed regions in terms of martial figures and folk heroes. For a long time, no single major martial power has emerged to dominate the area. This lack of unifying influence has instead fostered a resilient, bold local spirit, giving rise to numerous courier agencies and wagon caravans—forming a striking contrast to the abundance of bandits. On this particular day, on a simple dirt road in the countryside, a scene commonly witnessed throughout Jingzhou once again unfolded. A group of over a hundred sturdy men, dressed in coarse cotton garments, their heads wrapped in black headbands, wielding a variety of weapons, were surrounding and attacking more than thirty men in green robes. Protected by the green-robed figures, several high-pitched, covered horse-drawn carriages were shielded at their center—painting a vivid picture of a fierce battle between bandits and a courier convoy. Behind these thieves were three black-robed figures resembling one another, coldly observing the scene, their faces occasionally hardening with fierce determination. Near the carriage, several young, sturdy men dressed in the attire of household servants each held a staff, standing guard with slightly tense expressions. Inside the several carriages behind, a number of women and children in elegant garments sat. In the foremost carriage, a middle-aged scholar, calm and composed, sat seated. His black, flowing beard was neatly groomed, and though he appeared physically unremarkable—lacking even the strength to lift a chicken—he exuded an unmistakable aura of someone accustomed to leadership, commanding respect. Facing him was a blue-embroidered, bearded man seated against the carriage wall. With broad hands and bright, piercing eyes, he was clearly a rare master of the martial arts, a true peak-level exponent of the martial world. These two figures clearly held distinguished status, both composed and serene. Yet, in such a spacious carriage, there were only these two with them—no one else sharing the journey. The two remained silent at this moment, yet through the half-opened window of the carriage, they could clearly observe what was unfolding outside. The sounds of battle and cries of the wounded constantly reached them inside. The band of robbers, wearing black headscarves, were numerous and strong, while the young镖men in blue jackets were more agile and skilled, and for now, the two sides were evenly matched, unable to determine a clear winner. Seeing this, the scholar smiled gently and suddenly addressed the bearded man across from him. "Then, perhaps we need not trouble Lord Li with any further efforts—the Tianwu Courier Agency will be quite capable of handling things on its own!" "Hmm! If only those three leading figures among the black-clad robbers stay back, Tianwu’s men will easily manage these lesser fighters. But should those three come into action, the courier staff and assistants will find it difficult to hold their ground. After all, those three leaders are well-known tough characters in the Jingzhou region. It’s said they are brothers, and exceptionally skilled at coordinating their joint efforts." A competent swordsman, facing off against a towering figure far beyond his reach, suddenly brightened with evident excitement. With a thick finger he gently bent it, emitting crisp, resonant "crack" sounds—clearly the result of his external martial arts reaching its zenith. "Li brother! Whenever it comes to actual combat, you're always so eager, so restless—just like your father used to be back in the old days." The scholar watched the scene, finding himself utterly at a loss, clearly helpless in the face of this robust figure. "Han brother, that's entirely natural. Our Li family has always emphasized martial prowess—when we encounter someone we find particularly interesting, we naturally want to test ourselves against them. It's much like your Han family, a scholarly lineage, where one or two members typically enter government service each generation. What puzzles me, however, is how our Han and Li families—so different in nature—came to be such close friends in the first place, and how we've maintained such a strong, enduring friendship across generations!" The tall figure clasped his hands, clearly puzzled. "Haha!" A few days ago, while casually flipping through some personal notes, I happened to learn a few things about past events. If Lord Li is interested, I’d be happy to share with you—though I’m not entirely sure about the authenticity of some of the details. The scholar smiled lightly. "True! Unfortunately, our family has never kept records of our ancestors’ histories. Aside from preserving a few exceptional martial arts traditions, we have hardly any mention of how our families, the Han and Li, once interacted." Upon hearing this, the Li-family man expressed genuine curiosity, clearly eager to learn more. "Not good—those three have definitely taken action. Brother, wait a moment. I’ll summon them and then come back to report what happens." The bearded man glanced out the window, his expression turning serious. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he shot out of the carriage like an arrow from a powerful bow. Moments later, the sound of his laughter echoed from outside, mingling with the rising cries of battle. The scholar sighed, gently shook his head, and lowered the carriage curtain, choosing no longer to look out. He seemed confident in his resolve. After a cup of tea passed, the sound of the outer voice gradually subsided. The canvas curtain of the carriage stirred, and the Han man, dusty and slightly wounded—his shoulders bearing a faint crimson—hurried inside. He burst into laughter, addressing the scholar: "These three fellows truly have some skill; they've made me work harder than I expected. Yet, I've dispatched them all. From now on, the Black Cloak Thieves will be nothing in Jingzhou." The Han man looked thoroughly satisfied. The scholar, however, looked somewhat apologetic. "Had it not been for Brother Li's presence, my return journey home—my ancestral pilgrimage—would have turned into a death sentence for me, Han Rui. Clearly, my rivals truly detest me. Yet, in doing so, they've also burdened Brother Li." "What burden or inconvenience? Li's family has thrived in the martial circles for so long—thanks to your family's repeated support. Our two families have always supported each other, after all. That's simply what we're meant to do." The Li man replied with ease. "That does make sense—perhaps I've been overly dramatic." The scholar smiled, his expression returning to calm, clearly a man who could rise to the occasion and let go when needed. "Still, Han, don't forget to tell me about the history between your families—I'm genuinely curious!" The big man reached into his sleeve, pulled out a bottle of golden wound dressing, and began applying it to his shoulder, suddenly remembering the matter and asking. "Of course. In fact, the way our families came to become lifelong friends is quite remarkable. Do you recall the Seven Immortals Sect that once dominated Jingzhou city decades ago? Our ancestors once served as fellow disciples within that renowned martial arts guild. According to the hand-written records, one of our uncles in the Han family and your ancestor in the Li family were close as brothers, supporting each other throughout their lives. It was through that bond that our families first began to cultivate a relationship. And that uncle of ours was no ordinary man." It is said that back then... After the young man in green robes had carefully buried the bodies of both parties on the spot, several carts resumed their journey, gradually fading into the distance, disappearing from this desolate landscape. "Qingniu Town?" Floating hundreds of zhang above the ground, Han Li gazed down at the small town below, his face expressing a touch of bewilderment. Though the town was modest in size—only a few miles across—it bore no resemblance to the humble village he remembered, which had only a single street. Yet according to his memory, this was indeed the location of the old Qingniu Town. It seemed that over the past hundred years, the once-simple village had grown into a thriving town. Han Li stared at the scene for a while, then hesitated before suddenly casting a concealment spell, his form settling gently into a quiet alley where no one noticed him. Then he strolled out of the alley with a composed air, walking slowly along the narrow street. "Truly different!" Han Li murmured to himself, gazing at the one after another unfamiliar houses and pavilions lining both sides of the street. Though he knew that merely flying a little further west would bring him to his native village and the dark, towering mountain where he had grown up, he hesitated, and without hesitation, settled in the now dramatically transformed Qingniu Town. On the surface, Han Li appeared calm and at ease, yet deep down, he longed to find even a faint trace of familiar memories on either side. So far, however, he had been disappointed every time. Suddenly, Han Li slowed his pace and came to a halt at a three-way intersection. He stood motionless, gazing at a weathered little inn situated at the edge of the intersection. The inn was short and old, two stories in height, with a deep yellow signboard bearing the characters "Chunxiang" hanging above its door. It was precisely the old location where Han Li had once stayed for two days—the Chunxiang Restaurant that his uncle, the "Han Fat," had managed. Gazing at the restaurant, Han Li's past blurry memories suddenly came rushing back. The round, plump figure of his uncle, the compact courtyard behind the restaurant, the dimly lit pavilions, the fragrant and delicious meals, the black horse-drawn carriage adorned with the small flags of the Qiuxuan Sect—all these vividly unfolded before him. Han Li looked at the restaurant, his face expressing a mixture of emotions, a subtle sadness evident in his gaze. He studied the restaurant a bit longer and then noticed that pedestrians nearby were staring at him with an odd expression. It was indeed unusual—someone so young standing motionless, fixated on an old, weathered restaurant. After a brief thought, Han Li composed himself, straightened his posture, and slowly walked toward the restaurant.