An Moxue's group of five was fighting against one warlock. At first, it was a draw, but the more they fought, the more difficult it became for them.

Seeing this, the militiamen swarmed forward and joined the battle. The saying that "a madman can kill a master" has some truth to it; the sorcerer was already showing signs of defeat.

Seeing that the police and the young men were locked in a fierce battle, the militiamen decisively joined the fight, and the young men were quickly captured.

An Moxue became more and more excited as the fight went on. This sorcerer was incredibly strong. Although she had been injured in several places, the gains were also enormous. This was her first time facing an ancient martial artist head-on, and a powerful one at that.

Knowing that defeating them and escaping would be difficult, the sorcerer feinted, then sidestepped, and performed a series of flips to break free of the encirclement. He then ran towards the forest on the mountain. Everyone hurriedly gave chase. As she chased, An Moxue took out her crossbow and fired a barrage of arrows at the sorcerer. She fired five arrows in quick succession, but only one hit his arm. She then stopped chasing and picked up the crossbow bolts.

The militiamen who caught up later were surprised and asked her, "An Zhiqing, why didn't you chase after them?"

An Moxue replied confidently, "He'll have to slow down soon, he won't need me anymore."

Then he raised the arrow in his hand and said, "See? He's been hit by an arrow. It has anesthetic on it."

The militiamen understood and stopped chasing. Not long after, two policemen returned with the sorcerer, their eyes filled with murderous intent as they looked at An Moxue.

An Moxue smiled at him, her eyes full of disdain. She thought to herself, "You're probably after my family's ancestral graves."

You think you can let me go? What a pipe dream!

Are you still asleep, or am I the one who's still asleep?

A soldier came down, handed her a crossbow bolt, and asked, "What did you put on this arrowhead?"

An Moxue replied smugly, "Anesthetic."

After thinking for a moment, he added, "You'd better break his limbs, otherwise he's very likely to escape once the anesthesia wears off, and the effects of the drug don't last long."

As they walked toward the battalion headquarters, a soldier said, "This might not work. We have regulations, especially in public."

An Moxue gave him a knowing look, jogged into the educated youth courtyard, picked up a wooden stick as thick as an arm and as long as a calf, and caught up with the sorcerer.

Before anyone could react, the blow was swiftly delivered twice to the warlock's legs. Two crisp "crack" sounds were heard, followed by a deafening "Ah!!!" as the warlock's legs snapped.

Everyone who saw or heard it felt their own legs ache, and their hearts trembled as well. It was too decisive and resolute.

When everyone finally realized what was happening and looked at her, she shamelessly said, "No need to thank me, it was just a small favor. Otherwise, if the anesthesia wore off and he escaped while we weren't looking, it would be a huge loss."

Everyone thought it made sense, but something still felt off.

The sorcerer's eyes now seemed to be coated with poison as he stared at her. She remained indifferent, looking back at him, thinking to herself, "You little brat, I originally wanted to break all four of your limbs, but now that everyone's watching me, I have to consider my image in the public eye. You got lucky and got two arms instead! Serves you right for coveting my things!"

The warlock had no idea what she was thinking. If he did, he probably would have said, "Go to hell! I should thank you!"

The sorcerer's legs were broken, so he had to find two militiamen to support him by the arms and walk back.

In the brigade headquarters, the militiamen who knew An Moxue's past achievements were not surprised, but the soldiers and a policeman from the town were a little astonished. When the village chief saw her, his eyes and mouth twitched. Old Ma was full of praise. No wonder they were two people who could get along so well. There was a reason for it. Their thoughts were highly consistent.

Soldiers, police officers, the village chief, the old horseman, the accountant, and the militia company commander gathered at the brigade headquarters. After discussing and deciding, the village sent three mule carts, driven by the village chief, the old horseman, and the militia company commander, along with some militiamen, to escort the soldiers and police officers to the county.

Inside the educated youth compound, after two policemen searched through the belongings of Li Bin and the other two, they left some things behind and took some others. Then the educated youth were released from their confinement and allowed to move around freely.

The educated youth erupted in excitement as they watched Li Bin and his two companions being arrested. A cacophony of voices rang out: "What crime did they commit?" "I saw the police." "I saw the soldiers." "I think I saw Mo Xue." "This must be serious, otherwise it wouldn't involve both the police and the soldiers." "You're right. Will we get involved?" "No way!" "Do you think Mo Xue's absence these past few days is related to this? She seemed to have gotten into a fight with that middle-aged man just now." "Let's ask her when she gets back." "What exactly did they do?"

...

On the mule cart heading to the county, Old Ma drove, An Moxue and the sorcerer sat on the same cart, along with two soldiers and two militiamen.

With nothing else to do, An Moxue would occasionally blurt out a question, all of which were about the middle-aged sorcerer. After each question, she would stare intently at the sorcerer.

"Your name is Wang Dachui, is that really your name? It doesn't match the kind of person you are." The warlock didn't even give her a second glance.

“If it were me, even if it were a pseudonym, I’d choose something profound, something that would immediately tell people I’m capable. Like Wang Daxian, Wang Banxian, Wang Daozhang, Qiushan Daoren, or something like that. Oh, I forgot, now that the country is cracking down on feudal superstition, it’s forbidden. You should have originally been called some kind of awesome Daozhang, right?” He still didn’t speak, but his eyes flickered slightly, which An Moxue would have missed if she hadn’t been observing him closely.

“You have dug up every grave in this entire region and left the remains lying around in the wilderness.”

Suddenly, she stopped, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, "Still want to find something? Dream on! Those ghosts won't let you go. You'll all die a horrible death and go to hell."

Then she looked at him with a smile, while the sorcerer glared at her fiercely. She felt a little more at ease and decided to believe in ghosts and gods.

"The Tao follows nature, valuing life and abhorring death. You're supposed to be a cultivator of the Tao, but look at what you've done, or rather, what your whole group has done. You still want a peaceful death, you still want to cultivate longevity? Dream on! Even in dreams, it's all nightmares. Those you've killed, or indirectly killed, will not let you go. You've so many evil causes, and the consequences will inevitably be evil as well. As long as you don't die, you'll be haunted by nightmares every day. If you don't believe me, just wait and see. Time will tell you the answer."

An Moxue got carried away and couldn't stop talking. Old Ma made two loud "cough, cough" sounds, and she stopped talking. She just stared at him with a half-smile, giving the impression that she knew what he was thinking. In fact, she did know, but she just couldn't tell anyone.