Chapter Seventeen: Princess Anyi

After the hectic process of tidying up, Wu Jue and the others still couldn’t reach Xiao Han. Xiao Yang began to speculate pessimistically, wondering if Xiao Han had met with misfortune.

“At this point, we can’t wait any longer,” Wu Jue decided. “While Desai hasn’t launched another attack, let’s prepare to leave.” On the way out, they could search for Xiao Han.

Everyone left the treasury and got into the vehicles outside. Xiao Yang moved most of his instruments onto the vehicle, sealing the rest in the underground chamber.

Sitting in the car, he pulled up the surveillance footage currently available in the city, searching for any trace of Xiao Han. Soon, he discovered that over an hour ago, Xiao Han had appeared near the stadium in the western suburbs, but there was no footage afterward.

Beyond the stadium to the west was the suburban prison. Surely Xiao Han hadn’t gone there? He voiced his speculation, and Wu Jue, who shared the vehicle, judged, “Let’s head to the vicinity of the stadium. Once we arrive, you all can rest while I look for Xiao Han’s trail.”

With their destination set, they sped along, finally reaching the stadium in the western suburbs as dawn approached. The place was in ruins; much of the stadium wall had collapsed, exposing the empty field and track inside, scattered with corpses—a scene eerie and desolate.

There was no sign of Xiao Han, so the search had to continue. Wu Jue got out of the car, deciding to act alone this time, armed with two pistols and his flywheel shoes.

Wu Jue adapted more quickly than Xiao Han; within a few leaps, he had mastered the technique, moving with the agility of someone traversing rooftops and walls. His martial skills shone as he sprinted over a mile in just a few minutes.

At last, he witnessed a brutal melee ahead. A large horde of zombies surrounded two people on horseback, howling and attacking, trapping them in a deadly circle.

Wu Jue’s eyes lit up, surprised to see that the rider was a man and a woman. The man sitting behind was Xiao Han, the scout from earlier. The woman in front was fiercely valiant, wielding a bow and spear, relentlessly slaughtering zombies with tireless ferocity.

Most astonishing, the woman was extraordinarily tall, sweeping her spear to fell several zombies around the horse with each move, evidently a skilled rider.

Judging by her attire—animal skins and a headdress of bones—it was clear she was of a foreign tribe.

Wu Jue’s heart filled with curiosity; she seemed, like him, not of this era.

As he pondered, Wu Jue sprang into the fray, firing his pistols in rapid succession and dropping more than a dozen zombies in moments.

The remaining zombies, drawn by the gunfire, turned and lunged at Wu Jue, intent on tearing him apart. But Wu Jue would not allow them to succeed; holstering his pistols, he unleashed his Mad Palm technique, sending gusts of force in all directions. Soon, each zombie lay dead, their skulls shattered.

The embattled woman, seeing Wu Jue’s intervention, was stirred to compete, urging her horse forward and swinging her spear in a whirlwind of attacks. She dismounted to pursue the remaining zombies, stabbing them one by one.

Once the scene was cleared, the woman approached Wu Jue, scrutinizing him with proud eyes, and asked, “Are you a monk? There aren’t many as skilled as you.”

Wu Jue calmly pulled his steel blade from a zombie’s body and replied, “You could say so. My Buddhist name is Wu Jue. Thank you for saving Xiao Han.”

Xiao Han hurriedly dismounted, coming over, “I was scared to death. Just arrived here and ran into so many zombies—almost didn’t escape. Luckily, this young lady rescued me. By the way, what’s your name?”

The woman shook her hair and whistled, summoning her horse and grabbing the reins. “Call me An Yi. I’m a princess from the Dongyi tribe. I doubt anyone knows we exist anymore. If not for this crisis threatening our tribe’s safety, I wouldn’t have come out.”

Xiao Han wanted to laugh at Princess An Yi’s lofty words, but seeing Wu Jue’s serious expression, realized she wasn’t joking.

“You’re a princess? From the Dongyi tribe?” Xiao Han questioned, and Wu Jue answered, “I once heard the abbot say that at the dawn of Huaxia, there were three great tribes: Yanhuang, Dongyi, and Jiuli. They say our ancestors, the Yanhuang, survived and flourished, while the other two vanished. Yet now, it seems there are still descendants of the Dongyi tribe. My apologies for the ignorance.”

Wu Jue, hands pressed together in respectful greeting, prompted Princess An Yi to soften her arrogance. She explained, “Our tribe chose seclusion long ago, hiding in deep mountains where no one could find us. That’s why no one knows. Enough about that. I know there’s a prison ahead, which seems chaotic and crowded with inmates. I’m going to investigate. Are you coming?”

Wu Jue was intending to investigate the area anyway, so he nodded, “I do intend to check the situation there. Princess, you know that with zombies rampant, many are homeless, and our companions are still beset by invaders as we search for safety. Let’s join forces and see what’s happening.”

An Yi looked at him, “You want my help?” She clenched her fist, intrigued. “How about a wager or a duel? I haven’t met a worthy opponent since coming out.”

Wu Jue smiled, “A friendly sparring is fine; but let’s avoid deadly combat.”

With that, the three set off. Xiao Han used his flywheel to scout ahead, while Princess An Yi graciously invited Wu Jue onto her yellow horse.

Wu Jue silently recited a Buddhist chant, considering to protest about propriety between men and women, but in the apocalypse such conventions were pointless. He grabbed An Yi’s hand and mounted.

An Yi shouted, urging the horse onward, and they raced off at full speed.

At first, Wu Jue was uncomfortable with the horse’s jolting. An Yi advised him to hold tight to her waist, and Wu Jue recited a Buddhist chant again.

Deep down, he persisted in his monk’s principle of avoiding women, but as the horse accelerated, he had no choice. Instinctively, he held An Yi’s waist, feeling her athletic and surprisingly perfect figure. Wu Jue sensed, with a martial artist’s intuition, that she possessed talents unlike ordinary people.

He abandoned all distractions, holding An Yi closely and quietly attuned to the aura emanating from her.

Though she belonged to the Jiuli tribe, her body seemed to transcend the ordinary. Drawing upon Huron’s memories, Wu Jue realized her tribe held unique secrets—how else could they cultivate such extraordinary female warriors?

End of Chapter Seventeen: Princess An Yi