Exchange

In the small courtyard, Wang Chen was sharpening a knife.

It was the mountain-cleaving blade Village Chief Shi Laowu had given him.

The blade was three inches wide and about two feet long, its design ancient and its spine thick—perfect for chopping and slashing.

In Little Stone Village, the value of such a metal weapon was no less than five hundred jin of cured meat.

That showed just how generous Village Chief Shi was.

However, when the blade had come into Wang Chen's hands, its edge had been somewhat dull. He had left it unattended for some time, only taking it out today after advancing to the Flesh-Refining Realm to restore its sharpness.

Wang Chen—or rather, Chen Ergou—had often sharpened Chen Qiaoshan's knives and arrowheads before. This task could not have been more familiar to him.

Unfortunately, the two usable weapons at home had both been taken away by Chen Qiaoshan, along with the man himself.

Scrape! Scrape!

Stroke after stroke, Wang Chen sharpened the mountain-cleaving blade with utter focus.

At the same time, he was tempering his state of mind.

Worried about Hu Jiaojiao's safety, he had been somewhat impatient lately. Though he had successfully advanced, such instability of mind was like a ticking bomb that might explode at any moment!

The martial path tolerated no hunger for quick success!

The more he sharpened the blade, the keener it became; the more he honed his heart, the calmer it grew.

Clang!

Wang Chen sheathed the blade and rose to his full height.

The blade was sharp now. He could no longer keep hiding at home, cultivating behind closed doors.

He packed the remaining dozen-odd jin of smoked meat into a cloth sack, slung the mountain-cleaving blade at his waist, shouldered a simple pack, and left home.

He did not