Black Tiger Hall

"Old Man Zhang?"

Lin Zhao's brow twitched, his fingers instinctively reaching for the hilt of the sword at his waist. He'd heard the name of the blacksmith shop's previous owner from Li Yue when he rented the place, but he hadn't expected the man to dump this mess on him.

"No wonder the rent was abnormally cheap. So he already knew Black Stone Alley wasn't peaceful," Lin Zhao sneered inwardly, his gaze sweeping over the murky street outside the shop.

The outer city of Lanting Holy City was a cesspool of corruption. Gangs were more numerous than stray dogs by the roadside. Most of the Oirat constables were mere beginners in the Body Tempering Realm; they wouldn't dare make a peep when facing a tough opponent, let alone bother with these trivial matters.

To put it bluntly, the government was deliberately indulging them!

The poor of the outer city made up more than half of Lanting City's population. By keeping them busy fighting gangs and struggling for food, and by letting the thugs from the "Ge Gate" within the "Eight Secret Gates" bully them into submission, they could ensure the populace remained compliant.

The gentry of the middle city and the Nobility of the inner city sat high above, watching the show, controlling Oirat's military and financial power. Only then could they live in peace. Lin Zhao had understood this principle clearly back in Northern Garrison City.

When he emerged from the shop, he had just rounded a street corner when he ran into two groups of people hacking at each other with cleavers, the blood on the ground staining the bluestone slabs red.

He also saw a peddler in ragged clothes being surrounded by a few thugs trying to rob him. The peddler didn't even dare to cry for help.

He hadn't expected trouble to find him so soon after renting the shop. His luck was truly "great."

"I am the new tenant of this shop. If you want to collect the usual fee, find the previous owner, Old Man Zhang. My rent has already been paid in full," Lin Zhao said, crossing his arms. His tone was calm, and he deliberately spoke the Oirat dialect with a heavy accent, pretending to be an outsider.

He had learned some Oirat official language from Li Yue these past few days, which was just enough to handle this situation.

"Outsider?" The scar-faced man sneered, kicking the wooden pillar of the shop door hard, sending wood chips raining down.

The ruffians behind him joined in the taunting, their wooden clubs making sharp "pa pa" sounds as they were slapped against their palms. "So many outsiders come to the outer city every day. One more or one less doesn't matter!"

"Whether you're a tenant or the owner! This area of Black Stone Alley belongs to my Black Tiger Hall! If you open a business here, you have to pay the usual fee!" The scar-faced man touched the curved saber at his waist, his eyes as fierce as a hungry wolf's. "If you're smart, hand over the money quickly, or don't blame me for taking action!"

The ruffians immediately surrounded him, their expressions lewd. They didn't even have a trace of Blood Essence fluctuation on them—they hadn't even touched the threshold of the Body Tempering Realm. They were just a bunch of hoodlums who only knew how to bully ordinary people.

Lin Zhao felt no disturbance in his heart, even finding it a bit boring. Killing such trash wouldn't earn him much, and it would bring unnecessary trouble. It simply wasn't worth it.

But this was Oirat. There were still pedestrians passing by on the street in broad daylight. If he revealed his strength, it would attract the attention of the Nobility's spies, which would be troublesome.

Lin Zhao glanced left and right. The doors and windows of the neighboring houses were tightly shut, with eyes peeking through the cracks. He sighed and took out ten copper coins from his bosom, handing them over.

"Pa!"

The scar-faced man slapped the copper coins away. The coins hit the wall, bounced back, and rolled to Lin Zhao's feet, covered in black mud. "Are you trying to beg for alms? You dare offer me copper coins?" He spat, pointing at Lin Zhao's nose and cursing, "Don't think you're so great just because you're tall! My Hall Master, 'Black Tiger Yama,' is a genuine Peak Martial Master!"

"The last time some blind fool dared to refuse the usual fee, the Hall Master crushed his wrist with one hand and tore him in half! His intestines spilled everywhere. Do you want to end up like him?" The scar-faced man grew more pleased as he spoke, puffing out his chest as if the name 'Black Tiger Yama' could scare everyone. "Now you know the rules, right?"

Lin Zhao suppressed his anger. Peak Martial Master?

He did have some strength, but not enough to make him afraid.

He showed no emotion on his face, still smiling as he asked, "I'm new here and don't know the rules. May I ask how many silver coins the monthly usual fee is?" He felt that ten copper coins were already quite a lot. The rent for this shop was only one silver coin a month, and these brutes dared to ask for the moon.

"Seeing as you're new, I won't haggle with you. One silver coin a month will ensure your shop's peace," the scar-faced man said, holding up one finger, his tone incredibly arrogant.

Lin Zhao paused, then took out a silver coin from his bosom. This was one of the few silver coins left in his travel funds. He handed it over and then bent down to pick up the copper coins from the ground one by one.

The scar-faced man took the silver coin and weighed it in his hand, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. He had originally intended to teach Lin Zhao a lesson, but seeing how sensible he was, he couldn't be bothered to exert himself.

"You're sensible!" The scar-faced man pocketed the silver coin and shouted to the ruffians behind him, "Brothers, let's go!" He then turned and roared at the windows and doors of the neighbors, "What are you all looking at? Get back to work! If anyone can't pay the usual fee next month, the Hall Master's 'Tiger Claws' won't show any mercy!"

The eyes in the window cracks vanished without a trace.

Everyone on Black Stone Alley knew of the ferocity of "Black Tiger Yama." The Hard Qigong he practiced had reached its peak. His claws could easily tear through Fine Iron. Not long ago, a Martial Master from a rival gang had come looking for trouble, and he had been torn apart alive. His corpse had been left at the alley entrance for three days, stinking—no one dared to provoke this terrifying figure.

Lin Zhao watched the scar-faced man and his group leave, his eyes turning cold.

He found a secluded, dilapidated courtyard, changed his long robe for coarse cloth shorts, and quietly followed them. He tracked them all the way to a rundown shop with a "Azure Jade Tavern" sign.

The shop's door curtain was stained with oil. He could vaguely see more than a dozen men inside drinking with knives in hand, blood scabs still clinging to their hilts—this was the Black Tiger Hall's stronghold.

After noting the location, Lin Zhao turned back to the blacksmith shop and picked up his hammer to continue forging.

He knew in his heart that even if he eliminated the Black Tiger Hall now, other gangs would rush to occupy the street within three days, and the usual fees would still have to be paid.

Furthermore, these gangs were definitely backed by the gentry of the middle city or the Nobility of the inner city. They might even be managing underground dealings for the powerful. Acting now would only create more complications.

"Black Tiger Hall, Black Tiger Yama..." Lin Zhao tightened his grip on the hammer, his knuckles turning white. "I'll settle this score later. Once I gather enough materials and earn enough for my travels, I will definitely let you know what happens when you mess with the wrong person!"

The next few days, the blacksmith shop reopened.

Lin Zhao displayed ordinary iron swords and spears in the shop, the kind used by Warriors in the Body Tempering Realm, to cover his tracks.

When he closed the shop at night, he would lock himself in the back room, set up his furnace, and begin crafting truly fine items.

The fire in the furnace burned a fiery red, illuminating Lin Zhao's face.

The hammer in his hand weighed thirty jin. When it fell, it carried a dull whistling sound through the air. Each strike landed precisely at the seam between the Cold Iron and the Fine Iron. Sparks flew half a foot high, shining dazzlingly in the dim room.

This Cold Iron was bought from Xuan Yao Pavilion, sourced from the ore veins of the Northern Frontier's snow mountains. It was hard enough to withstand a strike from a Peak Martial Master's sword, but it was too brittle. It needed to be forged seventy-two times to fuse with the Fine Iron.

After a full seven days of work, a set of scale armor was finally completed.

The armor plates interlocked, fitting the body like fish scales, emitting a cold, faint glow.

Lin Zhao put it on and tested it, swinging his long sword. Apart from being slightly heavy, its flexibility was quite good. The defense of this armor was even stronger than the Dragon Pattern Armor worn by Border Army Captains. Even a full-power strike from a Peak Martial Master might not be able to break through its defense.

"Selling only weapons won't earn much money. In this world, armor that can save your life is the real hard currency," Lin Zhao patted the armor plates, producing a crisp "clang clang" sound. He had an idea—this "Mystic Iron Silver Scale Armor" should be sent to Xuan Yao Pavilion for auction. It would definitely fetch a good price.

Inside the "Drunken Immortal Residence" tavern in the middle city district, the lighting was dim, and the air was filled with the aroma of alcohol and roasted meat.

Lin Zhao, wearing a gilded mask, pushed open the door and walked in. The shopkeeper's eyes lit up when he saw the iron token in Lin Zhao's hand—the token was inscribed with the characters "Master Craftsman," a credential for VIPs of Xuan Yao Pavilion.

The shopkeeper quickly lifted the hidden door to the back hall and led Lin Zhao inside, calling out as they walked, "Steward! Master Craftsman is here!"

A middle-aged man in a brocade robe hurried forward. His gaze fell on Lin Zhao's mask, then swept over the armor in his hand. His tone was filled with reverence, "Are you truly Master Craftsman? I've heard so much about you!"

"Indeed. I wish to consign this set of armor for sale." Lin Zhao tossed the armor onto the ground. The armor plates clanged together with a muffled thunder, shaking the very ground.

"This armor is called 'Mystic Iron Silver Scale Armor.' It's made with Fine Iron mixed with half a pound of Northern Frontier Cold Iron, forged seventy-two times. It's one of my proudest works in recent years." Lin Zhao lowered his voice, deliberately emphasizing "seventy-two times forged"—such craftsmanship was unparalleled in all of Lanting City.

The steward quickly crouched down, carefully lifting the armor. His fingers traced the forging marks along the seams, and he gasped, "Seventy-two times forged! Your skill truly lives up to your reputation, Master!" He looked up at Lin Zhao, his tone even more respectful, "Rest assured, Master, our auctioneers at this pavilion are discerning. They will surely fetch a good price for you!"

Lin Zhao knew what he was doing—the cost of this armor alone was over two hundred taels. With his craftsmanship, selling it for over two thousand taels was definitely possible.

Peak Martial Masters were most in need of such life-saving protective gear. Xuan Yao Pavilion would undoubtedly spread the word to the powerful and wealthy common fighters in Lanting Holy City, and there would be plenty of people vying for it.

While waiting for the steward to register the item, Lin Zhao went to the bounty section.

He might find clues about the Netherworld Grass, which he couldn't find in Northern Garrison City, in this Oirat capital's foremost martial arts supply store.

This Xuan Yao Pavilion was the Oirat headquarters. The manager in charge was rumored to be a Peak Martial Master, so they surely had many goods.

He posted his request to purchase Netherworld Grass as usual, then browsed the martial arts manual section. He didn't find anything particularly good until he discovered a copy of the Green Falcon Body Tempering Technique in a corner.

Lin Zhao flipped through a few pages, his eyes lighting up—this technique was the signature skill of Li Cangying, who was trampled to death by a Pangolin Dragon!

He had searched for it for a long time when he was in Zhang Town, Northern Garrison City, and hadn't found it. He never expected to encounter it here.

This technique had twenty-five illustrated forms, specifically for practicing movement techniques and eagle claw strength. Although the method of circulating Blood Essence was rudimentary, it was very solid, making it a top-tier lower-grade technique, far superior to ordinary body-tempering methods, second only to the Blood Poison Spider Technique which could forge bones and open meridians.

"This is it." Lin Zhao took out one hundred taels of silver and handed it to the shop assistant, tucking the manual into his embrace. He then turned and left Xuan Yao Pavilion.

The corners of his lips curved slightly beneath the mask—he had the technique, and the armor would soon be sold for money. Next, he just had to wait for news from Xuan Yao Pavilion and gather the remaining materials, then he could cultivate with peace of mind.