Untitled

Xiang Yang knew nothing of the Giant Bear Gang's guesses and reactions, nor did he have the mind to care. Having completed the mission, he now devoted himself wholeheartedly to intensifying his training.

For several days in a row, he drilled the Hu Family Saber Technique, Iron Finger Technique, and Iron Crotch Technique almost without pause, not daring to slacken for a single moment. He knew that only by becoming stronger could he make his situation safer.

Under the blazing sun, Xiang Yang bared his upper body and swung the Wild Goose Feather Saber as he practiced the Hu Family Saber Technique. Completely focused, and bolstered by his many years of foundational saber training, his progress was gratifying. He could not claim to have mastered the technique to perfection, but he had achieved modest success. At the very least, Xiang Yang felt that if he fought Hu Qiang at his peak, he had a seventy percent chance of winning.

"Captain Wang Ying, Steward Fang, Magistrate Li's housekeeper, and Qian Fu of the Fierce Tiger Martial Arts Hall. Judging by Hu Qiang's behavior at the time, he didn't seem to be lying. One of those three must have been the one who harmed Xiang Da Niu. As for who it was, I'll have to investigate slowly while on duty at the County Yamen. I can't alert the snake in the grass."

Feeling his stamina greatly depleted, Xiang Yang stopped and sat on a small stool to practice the Iron Finger Technique. He divided his attention, using his two fingers to nimbly undo the dead knots in a rope while considering who was most likely to be the mastermind behind the scenes.

Xiang Yang was most familiar with Wang Ying. Uncle Wang, the man who had comforted him before the mourning hall that day, was stern and righteous at the yamen, cracking down on criminals. He had even led several efforts to wipe out the Black Wind Mountain Stronghold. Could such a man really be Xiang Da Niu's killer? Xiang Yang found it hard to believe.

Steward Fang, Magistrate Li's housekeeper, was about the same age as Wang Ying. He too was broad-shouldered and powerfully built, but he always presented himself as a good old fellow. Xiang Yang had dealt with him several times back when he worked as a yamen runner's assistant, and he did not seem much like a murderer either.

In Xiang Yang's heart, Qian Fu was the most suspicious. This man had always been mysterious, and rumors said he was a skilled martial artist who understood internal cultivation. The Fierce Tiger Martial Arts Hall had been founded single-handedly by Old Hero Qian, and the Fierce Tiger Fist was purely an external art. Where had Qian Fu obtained his internal cultivation? That was enough to make Xiang Yang suspicious.

And that was not all. Just listen to Qian Fu's name—Qian Fu, "lurking in ambush." Who knew what Old Hero Qian had been thinking, giving his son such a name? Of course, that was only a joke.

"On the surface, Qian Fu does indeed seem the most suspicious, but everything must be based on evidence. You can know a person's face but not their heart. Someone who appears righteous or honest may not truly be so by nature. Such people are usually good at disguising themselves."

Xiang Yang did not hesitate to view Wang Ying and Steward Fang with malice. There was even another possibility: perhaps all three of them were members of that great power.

"Huh, it came undone? I can count this rope-untying skill as mastered. Next comes training the finger-locking skill to strengthen my fingers."

Delighted, Xiang Yang tossed the hemp rope in his hand aside. The two fingers of his right hand stretched together, bent, and curled with extreme agility. Together with the calluses formed by friction, he had already achieved the first level of the Iron Finger Technique.

"My speed is a little fast. Could this be the effect of the Wordless Book? If it is, that would be wonderful. When I cultivate internal arts in the future, if I receive the same boost, then even though I started martial arts somewhat late, I can still achieve great things."

Xiang Yang had heard travelers in the county town speak of matters beyond it.

For internal arts, one generally began laying one's foundation in childhood. Around the age of six, one cultivated a sense of qi, using medicinal baths and medicinal meals to strengthen essence and qi. With every breath drawn and released, one achieved twice the result with half the effort, while also opening the meridians and expanding the dantian. By adolescence, one would enter a period of rapid improvement.

Yet he was already fifteen. Before this, he had only practiced foundational saber techniques. His meridians and dantian had already begun to take shape. Even if he obtained an internal art, compared to those who had practiced internal cultivation since childhood, he would be far behind, and his future potential would be quite limited.

But Xiang Yang was not worried. With the Wordless Book in his possession, was he afraid he would not find martial arts that could improve his aptitude?

"Huang Shang was nearly seventy when he began practicing martial arts. Yet through the Nine Yin Manual he created himself, he mastered both internal and external arts and became a master of his generation. And Kou Zhong and Xu Ziling were several years older than me when they began martial arts. Through fortunate encounters, they cleansed their marrow and transformed their bodies, ultimately becoming grandmasters of martial arts, peerless beneath heaven. With the Wordless Book, could I really be inferior to them?"

Thinking of this, a tide of lofty ambition surged up in Xiang Yang's heart. One day, he too would write his own brilliance and legend in this world.

At Black Mountain's Black Wind Mountain Stronghold, Poison Scholar sat alone in the empty main hall. The oil lamp cast a dim yellow glow, illuminating the shifting uncertainty on his face.

It had been three days since Hu Qiang left the Black Wind Mountain Stronghold. In those three days, there had been no news whatsoever. No living man, no corpse. This was completely unlike his past habit of sending reports at regular intervals.

In the past, both Poison Scholar and Big Beard, the chief of the stronghold, knew whenever Hu Qiang went down the mountain. Everyone had their own secrets. Whom Hu Qiang knew and how he went down the mountain to enjoy himself were none of their concern. As long as he sent regular messages to report his safety, it did not matter how long he stayed away.

But now there had been no news for three days, which was a bad sign. Hu Qiang was injured, and less than one-tenth of his fighting strength remained. If he encountered a skilled opponent, he would likely be beaten into a dead dog.

"That bastard. I just hope the authorities didn't catch him. Otherwise, this stronghold will be in danger."

As he pondered this, Poison Scholar made up his mind. He lit a torch and headed toward a cliff at the very innermost part of the stronghold. There was no one along the way, and it was far from where the many bandits lived. If it were anyone else, they might not even dare take a step forward, but Poison Scholar's expression remained unchanged. He had confidence of his own.

Tap, tap, tap. Poison Scholar curled his index finger and knocked against the stone wall, then cleared his throat and called out,

"Big Brother, your little brother Chen Ning has an important matter to report."

Chen Ning was Poison Scholar's real name. Ever since he had taken to the mountains and become an outlaw, people generally called him by his nickname or Second Chief. Only when facing Big Beard, the chief of the Black Wind Mountain Stronghold, did he reveal his real name.

"What is it? Didn't I tell you not to disturb my training unless it was absolutely necessary?"

A deep, powerful voice came from behind the stone wall. Though it was only a lightly spoken sentence, it made Poison Scholar Chen Ning break out in a cold sweat, and a trace of fear appeared on his face. It was clear how deeply Big Beard's authority had cowed him.

"Big Brother, something must have happened to Third Brother. He has been down the mountain for three days without any news. I suspect he was either taken out by someone or captured by the authorities. This place is likely no longer safe. I want to move the stronghold to our temporary base."

"The stronghold has just received a large batch of supplies from Zhou Fugui. We have enough resources to lie low for a while."

Poison Scholar spoke uneasily. He was not certain that the stronghold had definitely been exposed or that danger would certainly come, but Chen Ning had always acted cautiously. He would rather spend more effort and energy than wait until disaster was upon him and regret it.

"Mm. You decide everything concerning the stronghold yourself. As for Hu Qiang, don't bother with him. His death would actually be a good thing. His identity and background are somewhat special. He is different from us, and he is not one of our kind.

"Come find me again when it is time to leave."

A cunning rabbit had three burrows. The Black Wind Mountain Stronghold was a key target of the authorities, and it had more than one camp on Black Mountain. This was not their first time relocating.

Chen Ning wiped the sweat from his forehead and respectfully answered yes before bending at the waist and cautiously leaving. Yet at the instant he turned around, he felt a trace of melancholy. After today, the Black Wind Mountain Stronghold would likely vanish from sight for a time. And without Hu Qiang, who dared to fight and charge ahead like a mighty demon ape, the stronghold's prestige would likely diminish considerably.