“It turns out he’s just a farmer who’s never practiced martial arts, only brute strength.” The men in black all laughed. The one who’d had his head split open by a club earlier darted forward, easily dodging Charles Carter’s wild swings, and deftly slashed his long blade toward Charles Carter’s neck.

It’s over.

No way to dodge.

What kind of crappy nightmare is this! Not only is it even more disgusting than before, but the difficulty’s gone up!

Just as this thought flashed through his mind, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air—“clang!”—the man in black’s long blade was knocked flying.

At the same time, the sound of hooves approached from afar. Someone was riding toward them. Before the horse even arrived, the rider had already leapt off. Charles Carter only caught a glimpse of a figure in red, a flash of sword light cold as frost, and suddenly blood sprayed all around. Several screams rang out almost simultaneously, then were abruptly cut off.

Only then did the galloping horse reach them. The red figure flipped back onto the saddle.

Only now did Charles Carter see clearly: it was a woman in a fitted red outfit, her hair in a high ponytail, astride a green-maned horse, a long sword in a red scabbard slung at her waist. Her beautiful eyes were sharp as lightning, her bearing heroic and imposing.

“Thud.” “Thud.” One after another, the men in black collapsed to the ground, all dead on the spot.

After so long hacking and slashing in a daze in this dream, it was the first time Charles Carter had witnessed the scene described in novels—one sword felling nine wild geese.

This is martial arts! It really exists!

The woman looked around at the carnage, a trace of sorrow in her eyes, and murmured softly, “If only I’d arrived a moment earlier…”

Charles Carter was gasping for breath, the shock of his narrow escape overshadowed by the anger at the tragedy that had befallen the village. He even forgot to thank her, and blankly looked up to ask, “Who were those people?”

The woman silently shook her head. After a long pause, she said, “I was just passing by… but maybe I have a clue. Let me ask, is the Luojiazhuang this way?”

So she was just passing by and happened to intervene… Charles Carter had no idea what Luojiazhuang was, so he could only shake his head.

Seeing Charles Carter’s confusion, the woman seemed to understand his state of mind and didn’t press further. She rode her horse in a circle and soon spotted a stone tablet at the village entrance, inscribed with “Zhao Cuo.” She nodded, “Zhao Cuo. Earlier, someone told me the way—go forward several miles from Zhao Cuo, so this must be the right road…”

She then examined the corpses of the men in black, frowning and muttering, “So they’ve come here? But why make such a commotion?”

She crouched down and carefully searched two of the bodies, finding only a little silver, no other identifying marks. Frowning in thought but getting nowhere, she turned to see Charles Carter still standing there in a daze, and sighed, “Do you… have any family left?”

Charles Carter shook his head again.

The woman said, “I have business at Luojiazhuang. You might as well come with me. The people there can handle the aftermath, and you could find work and a place to settle down.”

Go to Luojiazhuang to look for work? Charles Carter wondered if he was straying from what he was supposed to do in this dream… But if he had to find a goal, where should he go?

Seeing his hesitation, the woman advised, “In these chaotic times, if you haven’t trained in martial arts, you’ll only be bullied. Luojiazhuang is at least a famous clan in Daxia, said to have ties to the royal family. If you can learn even a little martial arts there, you might have a chance for revenge, and it’s a foundation for settling down in the future.”

Daxia…

This dream even has its own world-building?

Charles Carter couldn’t be bothered to think that far ahead, and blurted out, “Sister, you’re so skilled—if I want to learn martial arts, could I learn from you?”

“Sister? Who knows which of us is older.” The woman laughed and shook her head. “I wander the jianghu, not fit to take disciples. Luojiazhuang suits you well. If I bring you, they might give me some face.”

Charles Carter could only say, “Alright. I was so dazed just now I forgot to thank you for saving my life. May I ask your name?”

“Emily Foster.” The woman answered casually, then asked with some curiosity, “You speak like someone who’s been educated. What’s your name?”

“Charles Carter.”

Fittingly, it matched the Zhao Cuo here.

Emily Foster said no more. She reached out and pulled him up—Charles Carter felt as if he were flying through the clouds, and soon landed on the horse’s back, sitting right behind Emily Foster.

Her slender, upright back was just inches away, and he could faintly smell her fragrance. As a lifelong bachelor, Charles Carter didn’t dare let his thoughts wander, and obediently grabbed the back of the saddle, feeling that this dream was even more absurd than the previous ones, because it was so detailed…

There was conversation, fragrance, a dashing heroine—so free-spirited, she seemed like a real person.

The thin snow all around, the wind as they galloped—it was cold. The tips of Emily Foster’s hair, lifted by the wind, brushed lightly across his cheek, tickling slightly.

These were things he could never have experienced in his previous dreams, which were nothing but killing—never so detailed.

The wound on his cheek from earlier still hurt. He reached up to touch it—his hand came away bloody.

Looking at the blood on his hand, Charles Carter suddenly felt a twinge of panic—what if this wasn’t a dream?

His mind was in turmoil, and for a while he didn’t know how to ask Emily Foster anything, so they rode on in silence.