Night had fallen, and Bluestone Alley was completely shrouded in darkness and silence.
Only the occasional barking of dogs in the distance and the stifled weeping from certain courtyards reminded people that plague and fear were gnawing away at this area.
The Wang Family had finished dinner early.
Before long, Wang Gui's heavy snoring and Madam Zhou and Wang Yu's steady breathing sounded inside the house.
Wang Yuan lay on his small bed, his eyes open in the darkness, utterly unable to sleep.
The burly man's venomous gaze when he left, along with his words, "Just you wait," coiled around Wang Yuan's heart like a poisonous snake.
His family was his reverse scale, and also his greatest weakness.
The Incense God Cult acted with such reckless abandon. Now that they had become enemies, the other side would never let the matter rest.
He could not place his family's safety in the hands of his enemies' mercy or forgetfulness.
"To cut the grass, one must pull up the roots!"
A cold, resolute thought took shape in his heart.
They were moving anyway. This was the perfect chance to leave this land of trouble behind.
Even if the Incense God Cult found out afterward that he was responsible.
By then, he would already be in the South District, with Panshi Fist Academy at his back.
If they had the guts, they could come to the South District—to Panshi Fist Academy's territory—to find him!
At that thought, a vicious glint flashed through Wang Yuan's eyes.
He rose quietly, making not the slightest sound, nimble as a spirit cat.
He changed into a set of dark old clothes and tucked the Bone Dissolving Water Senior Disciple Brother had given him, along with the remaining half packet of chili powder, into his clothes.
He pushed open a crack in the door and made sure no one was outside.
Wang Yuan's figure flashed, melting into the thick night.
Like a ghost, he darted through the narrow, cluttered alleyways, relying on the lightness granted by Chasing Wind Leg and the sharp senses bestowed by Dragon Tendon Tiger Bone.
His target was clear—the Widow Li's home at the end of the alley.
He remembered perfectly the direction in which the burly man and Widow Li had fled.
Before long, Widow Li's mud-brick house, even more dilapidated than the Wang Family's, appeared before him.
Unlike the other households, whose lamps had long been extinguished and which lay deathly silent.
Widow Li's window still leaked a dim, flickering yellow glow. Faintly, the sounds of men chatting and laughing, along with bowls and chopsticks clattering, drifted from within.
Holding his breath, Wang Yuan silently drew closer. Like a gecko, he used the shadows at the foot of the wall and its uneven surfaces to climb the low roof in a few soundless leaps.
He lowered himself, found a gap between the roof tiles, and cautiously peered inside.
Sure enough, the scene inside was entirely different.
Several plates of glistening meat dishes and a jar of wine sat on the table.
Three men dressed in ordinary coarse linen clothing, yet all powerfully built, sat around the table eating and drinking, their faces flushed red.
Widow Li, meanwhile, hovered beside them like a servant girl, cautiously pouring their wine and serving dishes, her face carrying a fawning smile and a thread of fear that was hard to detect.
At such close range, the conversation inside reached Wang Yuan's ears with perfect clarity.
A scar-faced man gulped down some wine, wiped his mouth, and said gruffly:
"Damn it, the poor bastards in Bluestone Alley are pretty easy to fool. Scare them a little, and they obediently worship the Incense Deity."
"It's just that tough bone we ran into today. He's a bit prickly."
Another man, missing half an ear, let out a scornful laugh, unconcerned:
"Scarface, you're the useless one. You got your hand injured by some brat's punch."
"That kid is a little strange. His strength is shockingly great."
"But tomorrow, once the three of us go together, catch him off guard, ambush and surround him—even if he has three heads and six arms, he'll still have to lie flat!"
"Then we'll seize him and his whole family. They'll be perfect for making Blood Sacrifices—drain their Vital Blood dry, then turn them into Chaotic Blood Incense."
"Hehe, incense made from a martial artist's Vital Blood is top-grade stuff!"
The third man, whose face was gloomy and sinister, nodded and lowered his voice:
"The higher-ups are pressing hard. They need large quantities of low-grade Chaotic Blood Incense to cultivate the cult's lower-ranking members."
"Once these ordinary cultists have been fattened up, they make the finest Blood Sacrifice materials."
"That kid's family, especially that kid himself, has abundant Vital Blood. He's worth dozens of ordinary people. We can't let him go."
Wang Yuan heard every word clearly from the roof, and an icy, bone-piercing Killing Intent surged from the depths of his heart, nearly bursting through the crown of his head.
So that was it!
This so-called joining of the Incense God Cult was nothing more than raising Blood Sacrifices in captivity.
They used ordinary cultists' Vital Blood to make Chaotic Blood Incense, mass-producing martial artists who had undergone the First Blood Change.
And because of his resistance, the Wang Family had already been targeted. They did not merely want to kill him—they wanted to refine his entire family into that wicked Chaotic Blood Incense.
Just then, the burly man called Scarface—the very one whose arm Wang Yuan had injured during the day—seemed to have drunk too much.
He swayed to his feet and muttered, "Can't take it anymore. Gotta go relieve myself..."
As he spoke, he pushed open the back door and headed toward the weed-choked patch of wasteland behind the house.
An opportunity!
A cold gleam erupted from Wang Yuan's eyes as baleful energy rose in his heart.
Three mere First Blood Change martial artists who had broken through using Chaotic Blood Incense dared to be this arrogant?
Like a cheetah that had waited for a long time, he silently slid down from the roof, landing without a sound. Shielded by the shadows, he swiftly circled around to the back of the house.
Scarface stood by the grass relieving himself, even humming an off-key tune, completely unaware that death had arrived.
Wang Yuan appeared behind him like a phantom. The extreme speed granted by Chasing Wind Leg meant he made almost no sound at all.
Just as Scarface sensed something strange behind him and was about to turn around.
"Who's behind me?"
Scarface gave a wary low shout and instinctively tried to turn.
But the answer he received was a whip-like kick that tore through the air!
"Chasing Wind Leg!"
Wang Yuan's right leg lashed out like a steel whip.
The circulation of Vital Blood from Chasing Wind Leg combined perfectly with the immense power of Dragon Tendon Tiger Bone, its speed reaching the utmost extreme.
Carrying a vicious gust of wind, it smashed solidly into Scarface's unguarded ribs.
"Bang!!"
A dull, teeth-aching crash rang out.
Scarface only felt an irresistible, terrifying force erupt inside his chest.
He could even clearly hear the crisp crack of his breastbone snapping clean through.
The agonizing pain instantly drowned his consciousness. His entire body flew backward as though struck by a charging savage bull.
His feet left the ground, and he hurtled sideways before slamming heavily into the earthen wall behind him and sliding limply down.
"Puh!"
He violently spat out a mouthful of blood. His eyes were unfocused, filled with extreme pain and disbelief.
Scarface struggled to raise a trembling finger, pointing at Wang Yuan, who stood not far away.
His throat rasped as he squeezed out a few words with his final strength:
"It... it's you..."
"You... how could you... be... this strong..."
Although Wang Yuan had injured him with a punch during the day, he had only thought Wang Yuan was unusually strong. He had never imagined the gap between them was so vast!
The power of this kick far surpassed that punch from earlier.
Wang Yuan's gaze was icy. He showed not the slightest mercy, nor could he be bothered to answer a dying man's question.
He moved again, closing in like a ghostly shadow. His left leg rose once more like a battle-axe, carrying a sharp howl of wind as it came crashing down.
"Crack!"
That stomp directly crushed Scarface's throat bone.
His body convulsed violently once, his eyes wide open. With endless unwillingness and regret, his breath was completely extinguished.
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