The Complete Mystic Ice Technique of the Meng Family

"Old man, are you asking me to assassinate Baxia?" Lin Zhao sneered, his fingertips unconsciously tapping a Mystic Iron ingot on the table corner – it was forging material he'd just bought from the mining market that morning. "I'm just a Common Fighter who relies on blacksmithing to earn Songjiang Tael of Silver. How could I possibly contend with a Great Commander of the Oirat like the 'Guardian General of the Nation'?"

Though he said this, he had already guessed about seventy to eighty percent of it. If this old man dared to mention Baxia, there must be a significant scheme hidden behind him, and it was definitely related to the grievances of the Oirat Nobility.

The masked elder slowly shook his head, his withered fingers gripping the coarse porcelain teacup, his knuckles turning white from the force, the rim of the cup already showing fine cracks. "You are in a hurry for Dragon Yuan, which must be for condensing Postnatal Vitality and Blood. Although my eyes are dim with age, I know that a Grand Master Craftsman who can forge Northern Frontier Cold Iron into Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor could never achieve it without some Martial Path heritage – how could an ordinary blacksmith withstand the backlash of Vitality and Blood when forging Cold Iron?"

He paused, his voice dropping even lower, with a barely perceptible tremor, as if afraid of being overheard. "How I wish I could find a Peak Grandmaster Warrior to help! But such individuals are either kept as guest elders by the inner city Nobility, or they live in seclusion in Zhongnan Mountain to cultivate. How would they pay attention to an unknown old man like me? Besides, I don't have anything that could move a Grandmaster – I can't possibly offer the remaining half-page fragment of the Mystic Ice Technique from the Meng Family, can I?"

Lin Zhao's heart stirred – the Meng Family!

They were a distinguished military family from the founding of the Great Ming, with ancestors who had been Legendary Master Warriors. They had fallen into decline later due to their involvement in the power struggles between Imperial Power and the Celestial Masters' Manor.

No wonder this old man spoke so coherently and even understood the intricacies of Vitality and Blood cultivation. So, he was a descendant of a fallen noble family.

The elder seemed to see through his thoughts and continued, "How would I dare ask you to assassinate Baxia? In this world, the number of people who can defeat him probably doesn't exceed five! He is a God of War who cut through Tatar cavalry in the Northern Desert. Half of the 'Formation Breaking Spears' held by the Fierce Wind Guard were personally taught by him!"

His voice suddenly became gritted, and he slammed the teacup heavily on the table. The spilled tea landed on the Mystic Iron table leg and instantly evaporated. "I want you to kill Ling Song – the Oirat Ministry of Revenue Left Vice Minister! That old scoundrel's martial arts are no more than Peak Martial Master level, about the same as this old bone of mine. He only got the position of Vice Minister thanks to his son-in-law Baxia's military achievements. He's utterly useless, only knowing how to embezzle funds through his Grain Transport authority and indulge his subordinates in oppressing the common people!"

"Before he became Vice Minister, he was just a petty clerk in the Ministry of Revenue's Grain Transport Department, and his evil deeds were rampant in secret!" The elder's voice was choked with tears, his withered shoulders trembling slightly. Suppressed sobs could even be heard from beneath the mask. "He once locked dozens of young women from villages along the canal in the cellar of the grain transport warehouse for his pleasure and to bear him children. His depravity didn't stop until those women's daughters reached fifteen years old... Many people died at his hands, including my only sister – she was only fourteen that year, having just fled from the Great Ming with her family to Oirat!"

By the end, the elder was almost roaring. The breathing beneath the mask was as rapid as a bellows, his hands clenched into tight fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

After a long moment, he finally turned his gaze to Lin Zhao, with a look of desperate hope. "Looking at what you've posted rewards for in Xuan Yao Pavilion, besides Dragon Yuan, you're also looking for cultivation techniques, aren't you? I heard you also asked about the whereabouts of the Mystic Ice Technique last month?"

Lin Zhao's pupils contracted – the Mystic Ice Technique!

It was a technique that, when mastered, could unleash immense strength. For a Martial Master, it could directly solidify their Vitality and Blood foundation. He had searched for years without finding even half a fragment.

"If you are willing to help me kill Ling Song, I will tell you where the complete scroll of the Mystic Ice Technique is hidden – it's in the cellar of the old Meng family residence in the outer city. Our ancestor left it there specifically, and it wasn't confiscated!"

The elder's voice returned to calm, but it carried a tone of desperate resolve. "I drink 'Blazing Sun Burn' in a corner of Xuan Yao Pavilion every day, awaiting your arrival with Ling Song's head. However, my lung disease is severe, and the doctor says I won't make it past next spring. Whether I can see that villain Ling punished depends on you."

He stood up, staggered slightly, and instinctively pressed his right hand to his chest before steadying himself. "Oh, right, my name is Meng Yanshan. I am the last male descendant of the Meng family."

With that, he leaned against the wall and walked out of the private room step by step. His hunched back was like a withered tree bent by a fierce wind, yet it exuded an indescribable stubbornness – the last vestige of pride from a noble family.

Lin Zhao remained seated, his fingers lightly tapping the Mystic Iron ingot on the table, producing dull "tok tok" sounds. His expression was complex. He had originally thought the Meng family had long since vanished into the annals of history during the Celestial Masters' Manor's "purge" in the Yongle Era. He hadn't expected that in Lanting, outside the Oirat city, there would still be descendants like Meng Yanshan alive.

It made sense, really. Only in a place like the outer city, a melting pot of all sorts, where the authorities were too lazy to manage meticulously, could a fallen noble family find a sliver of survival.

"A distinguished military family that once commanded the Great Ming, now reduced to relying on outsiders for revenge... In the face of Imperial Power and the passage of time, even the most glorious forces are nothing more than fleeting clouds," Lin Zhao sighed inwardly, his finger tracing the forging marks on the Mystic Iron ingot. "It's no wonder Meng Yanshan is so knowledgeable, even knowing the whereabouts of the Mystic Ice Technique. So, he is a genuine descendant of the Meng family."

"I urgently need the Dragon Yuan – I must use it to refine the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine to break through to Peak Martial Master. The Mystic Ice Technique is even rarer. That top-tier armor can compensate for my shortcomings. But asking me to kill Baxia's father-in-law, the risk is too great."

Lin Zhao frowned, rapidly calculating in his mind. Although Ling Song was weak, as the Ministry of Revenue Left Vice Minister, his mansion would definitely have Fierce Wind Guard escorts arranged by Baxia, at least Peak Martial Masters.

Furthermore, Ling Song also had connections with the Oirat Khan. Killing him would mean offending both Baxia and the Oirat simultaneously.

Even if he could kill Ling Song, with the skills of a Legendary Master Warrior like Baxia, he would likely be able to track him down within three days.

He shook his head. Since his debut, he had only killed when he had an overwhelming advantage in strength, or when he had absolute confidence in his self-preservation, like when he faced lower-level Martial Masters back then.

Although he could now defeat high-level Martial Masters and was invincible below the Heavenly Gang Realm Grandmaster level, he didn't even know how strong a Heavenly Gang Realm Grandmaster truly was, let alone a top-tier expert like Baxia, who could contend with a Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon.

The only Grandmaster Warrior he had ever seen was his father, but his father had rarely made a move when he was young. He only remembered his father shattering a thousand-jin Mystic Iron ingot with a single palm strike. He had only a vague concept of the strength of a Heavenly Gang Realm Grandmaster.

"What if I'm like a frog in a well, overestimating myself, and end up with my head severed?" Lin Zhao calmed down, slowly retracting the Vitality and Blood in his fingertips. "Meng Yanshan looks like he can hold on for a few more months. Why not wait until I obtain the Dragon Yuan and break through to Peak Martial Master before making a decision? At least then, even if I can't defeat Baxia, I'll be able to escape."

As he left Xuan Yao Pavilion, Lin Zhao felt some hesitation, but also some gains. At least he knew the complete scroll of the Mystic Ice Technique still existed, and that Ling Song's mansion contained a large amount of Dragon Yuan.

"No wonder Dragon Yuan is hard to find even in the Oirat medicine markets. It turns out Baxia plundered it from the Northern Desert and presented it as a statue for Ling Song's sixtieth birthday!"

Lin Zhao cursed inwardly, clenching his fists until they creaked. "This Ling Song is truly living the high life while others suffer! I have to forge three sets of Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor overnight just to earn a tael of Dragon Yuan, yet he treats such precious cultivation resources as mere decorations. He deserves to die!"

Returning to the blacksmith shop, Lin Zhao refocused his attention on forging. He was running low on silver coins, not enough to buy the materials for refining the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine. He needed to sell two more sets of Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor.

"Clang! Clang!"

The flames in the furnace burned fiercely, emitting a pale blue light – that was the forging flame mixed with "saltpeter," which could soften Mystic Iron faster.

Lin Zhao poured his Vitality and Blood into the hammer. Each strike was accompanied by a dull whistling sound as it cut through the air. The scorching hot iron billet gradually took shape under the hammer, sparks flying everywhere, landing on the ground with a faint golden residual warmth of Vitality and Blood.

Just then, a commotion suddenly arose from outside the door, mixed with rough shouts: "New blacksmith! Get out here for me!"

Lin Zhao put down his hammer and wiped the sweat from his brow – the sweat contained a faint trace of blood, a result of prolonged Vitality and Blood infusion.

He walked out of the shop and saw a scarred man from the Black Tiger Hall standing at the entrance, holding a broken Fine Iron saber. With a "crack," he threw it on the ground. The broken blade was still stained with dark brown blood and mud.

"What is the matter, everyone?" Lin Zhao stood with his arms crossed, his tone calm, his gaze sweeping over the few lackeys behind the scarred man – each of them had only practiced rudimentary martial arts, not even reaching the Body Tempering Realm.

"Stop playing dumb!" The scarred man pointed at the broken saber on the ground, his face arrogant, spitting far and wide. "Don't you see my saber is broken? Do you have any good Fine Iron sabers in your shop? Hurry up and get me one! If you don't have a suitable weapon, how can you protect your shop? Do you know that the Wildfire Gang next door has been eyeing your blacksmith shop? They even robbed the grain shop on the west street yesterday!"

Lin Zhao sneered inwardly – this was clearly an attempt to rob him of weapons, using such a high-sounding excuse.

He pointed to the weapons on the rack outside the shop. "Feel free to pick any Fine Iron saber or iron spear from the racks outside. But I'll say this upfront, these are for Body Tempering Realm practitioners. They'll easily get nicked if you chop too much." After saying that, he turned and went back into the shop, too lazy to waste time arguing with these thugs. Arguing with them would only waste his cultivation time.

"Brothers, all switch to new gear!" the scarred man shouted. The lackeys behind him immediately swarmed forward, snatching all five Fine Iron sabers and three iron spears from the racks. They even threw their own broken scrap metal on the ground – there were nicked cleavers and broken handles of chopping knives.

In the eyes of these thugs who had never seen good things, the Fine Iron sabers forged by Lin Zhao were already "divine weapons" capable of cutting through armor.

After a while, the commotion outside the door subsided.

Just as Lin Zhao was about to resume forging, he faintly heard hushed conversations from the rice shop next door, mixed with helpless sighs:

"When will this life ever end... The Black Tiger Hall demands three Tael of Silver as a monthly tribute. We sell rice for a month, and our net profit is less than two Tael. Isn't this pushing people to their deaths?"

"Father, I saw a wandering swordsman at the entrance of Xuan Yao Pavilion yesterday. He's a mid-level Martial Master and said that if we give him eight hundred Tael of Silver, he'll help us drive out the Black Tiger Hall! Why don't we pool money with the neighbors and fight the Black Tiger Hall! We can't just keep enduring this!"

"Sigh... Do you think I don't want to?" another voice carried deep helplessness and a hint of fear. "The Black Tiger Yama is a Peak Martial Master! Last month, blacksmith Wang on the west street refused to pay the tribute, and he broke three of his ribs with a single punch. He's still lying in bed! And a few days ago, someone saw the Black Tiger Yama drinking with the steward from Vice Minister Ling's mansion. How can we fight them – they're people from the Ministry of Revenue Vice Minister!"

"Living so subserviently is worse than following a hunting party into the wilderness to make a living. At least there, you wouldn't have to put up with other people's moods!"

Lin Zhao listened to these words with a blank expression, continuing to swing his hammer at the iron billet. He couldn't and didn't want to manage the predicaments of these neighbors.

His sole objective now was to forge two sets of Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor as quickly as possible, earn enough money to buy Dragon Yuan, break through to Peak Martial Master, and then obtain the Mystic Ice Technique.

The following evening, the two new sets of Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor were finally completed. The armor plates shimmered with an inky, cold light, and the edges were engraved with delicate anti-slip patterns.

Lin Zhao hired a porter to deliver the armor to the Xuan Yao Pavilion for auction. As soon as he entered the pavilion, he saw the familiar hunched figure in the corner. As Meng Yanshan had said, he was sitting alone, drinking, with an empty "Blazing Sun Burn" wine pot and a plate of untouched braised beef in front of him.

Lin Zhao walked over and sat opposite him. He beckoned a waiter and pointed to the wine pot in front of Meng Yanshan, "Another pot of Blazing Sun Burn, heated."

The waiter acknowledged him and soon returned with a pot of steaming wine. Lin Zhao picked up the wine pot, poured himself a cup, and as soon as it was full, he lifted it and drank it down in one go. The spicy liquor slid down his throat, bringing a burning sensation of Blood Essence, which perfectly relieved the fatigue of a day's forging.

"Old man, you must live well," Lin Zhao said, putting down his cup and looking at Meng Yanshan's pale fingers. "Don't wait until the day I bring Ling Song's head to you, only to find you've already been buried and can't drink this Blazing Sun Burn."

Meng Yanshan suddenly looked up. A glint flashed through his cloudy eyes, like a dying man seeing a glimmer of hope.

He grabbed the wine pot on the table, poured himself a cup, and drank it down without caring if it was too hot. He coughed violently, his shoulders shaking. "Cough, cough... Good! Good! Young man, I wish you a bright future, like the 'Marquis Zhenbei' of yesteryear, leaving a resounding name in the annals of the world's Martial Path!"