Making a Move

"I think you're asking to die!" the tall, thin man cursed, throwing the first punch. His fist carried brute force, but there was no technique behind it.

Yang Jing stood firm without dodging. He blocked with his left arm and clenched his right hand into a fist—the opening stance of the Mountain Collapse Fist.

His fist swept past the skinny man's arm and slammed heavily into his ribs.

"Argh!"

The tall, thin man bent over as though struck by a sledgehammer, pain wracking his body. The dagger in his hand clattered to the ground.

The short-haired man jumped in fright. Looking at his fallen companion, he suddenly gritted his teeth, a vicious gleam entering his eyes as he drove his dagger straight at Yang Jing's lower abdomen, swift and vicious.

Yang Jing's expression tightened slightly, but he remained utterly calm.

He was now a Bright Strength expert, a true Entering Strength martial artist. He had sparred and exchanged moves with Liu Maolin for a long time, and had personally killed people and seen blood. When it came to real combat, he did not panic in the slightest.

Yang Jing shifted his feet, his body slipping aside by half a foot like a ghost. At the same time, his left hand shot out like lightning and accurately seized the short-haired man's wrist. His right hand formed a fist as Bright Strength erupted—

Bang!

His fist smashed directly into the short-haired man's elbow.

With a soft crack, the short-haired man cried out and released his grip. The dagger fell to the ground, and his entire arm twisted at a grotesque angle.

Yang Jing did not stop. He shoved forward with the momentum, sending the short-haired man staggering back several steps before he fell to the ground with a thud, rolling about in agony.

In no more than three breaths, the two gang thugs armed with daggers had completely lost their ability to resist.

"Get out of here. If you come charging in so recklessly again, it'll be your legs I break next time."

After speaking, Yang Jing did not even glance at the two groaning men on the ground. He bent down, picked up the two daggers, casually tossed them into the weeds by the courtyard wall, then pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard.

There were other tenants in the courtyard as well.

Hearing the commotion, they ran to the gate to take a look. All of them were startled, silently branding Yang Jing in their hearts as someone ruthless, someone not to be provoked.

Yang Jing had no idea what the other tenants were thinking, nor did he care.

After dealing with the two gang thugs, he went straight back to his room and began stewing meat.

He had already finished this month's ten-pound allotment of bear meat, so Yang Jing had returned to eating horse meat.

He had once thought horse meat tasted quite good, but after eating bear meat, going back to horse meat boiled in plain water with a few chunks of salt made it feel like chewing wax.

The groans outside the courtyard gate soon disappeared. Evidently, the two gang thugs had gritted their teeth through the pain and forced themselves to leave.

Yang Jing did not take those two gang thugs seriously. They were merely ordinary people who had never even received systematic training in fist and foot techniques; they were beneath his notice.

He was now a genuine Entering Strength martial artist, and there was already an enormous gap between him and ordinary people who had not cultivated strength.

Moreover, Yang Jing had undergone professional martial arts training at the Sun Clan Martial Arts School. He had received systematic instruction from a Transforming Strength expert, along with diligent sparring and exchanges from his fellow disciples.

Whether in strength or technique, the gap between Yang Jing and ordinary people was now immense.

To Yang Jing, defeating those two gang thugs—or even killing them—would not have been difficult. It would have been almost easy. That was the difference between an Entering Strength martial artist and an ordinary person.

It was precisely because of such a vast disparity that, after Master Ning of Wazi Township learned Yang Jing had broken through to Bright Strength, he immediately sent his household steward to apologize and curry favor.

If Yang Jing truly wished to kill Ning Xuezhi, Ning Xuezhi might evade the first day, but he would not necessarily escape the fifteenth.

As the meat stewed, Yang Jing's thoughts raced.

"Fourth Senior Brother's family runs a medicinal hall and herb business. They have some reputation throughout Yuhe County, so they probably know quite a bit about these gangs. Tomorrow, I can ask Fourth Senior Brother about the Great Fortune Gang's exact situation."

Yang Jing thought to himself.

Since he had already torn all pretense with the Great Fortune Gang, it would be better to learn more about them.

"Judging from how those two gang thugs acted today, they probably don't know I've already entered strength."

"If they knew I was a Bright Strength martial artist, they wouldn't dare lay hands on me so openly even if they had three times the guts."

"But that's normal."

"To the Great Fortune Gang, the original owner of this body was probably just one of countless ordinary people who borrowed usury from them. There was no need to pay him much attention—they only had to come collect the debt when the deadline arrived."

"Still, after today's fight, the Great Fortune Gang should investigate me properly."

Yang Jing narrowed his eyes.

He did not know the Great Fortune Gang's background, nor how strong the gang was.

"After the Great Fortune Gang learns that I successfully entered strength, will they let this matter go?"

Yang Jing frowned as he pondered it.

Under normal circumstances, that was quite possible.

After all, he had only borrowed a principal sum of eight taels of silver from the Great Fortune Gang.

A mere eight taels of silver should amount to nothing for the Great Fortune Gang, whose main business included usury lending.

Was it not far too unwise to make an enemy of a Bright Strength expert over eight taels of silver?

"No, no. These gangs are all rotten to the core, and this Great Fortune Gang in particular has committed countless atrocities that outrage both heaven and earth. I absolutely can't judge them by ordinary reasoning."

Yang Jing's brows gradually drew together.

In the eyes of others, it might be only eight taels of silver.

But in the eyes of those beasts from the Great Fortune Gang, this was sixteen taels of silver.

And gang members were unscrupulous in their dealings, skilled at all manner of sinister tricks. They might not necessarily care that he was at Bright Strength.

"No. From here on, I need to be more careful and cautious. I should drag out the conflict with the Great Fortune Gang as long as possible. Once I break through to Hidden Strength, these gangs won't amount to anything."

Yang Jing's thoughts raced as he decided to act with greater caution for some time to come.

If the Great Fortune Gang came looking for trouble head-on, he had nothing to fear. What worried him was whether they would use methods like poison, covert attacks, or ambushes against him.

"I'll see how things go. If it really comes to it, I'll ask Master to clear out a woodshed for me, and I'll stay at the martial arts school long-term!"

Guang'an Ward, in the courtyard housing the Great Fortune Gang's headquarters.

Dust billowed through the air as several bare-chested men gathered around a stone table gambling. The crisp clatter of dice striking bowls mingled with a rising chorus of crude curses.

"Fuck, it hurts like hell!"

The short-haired man staggered in, half-supported by the tall, thin youth. His arm hung at a grotesque angle, his face covered in cold sweat. The instant he entered the courtyard, the pain made him curse aloud.

Hearing the commotion, the gang men who had been gambling looked up. Seeing the pair in such a miserable state, they tossed aside their dice and crowded around.

"Brother Shun, what happened? Did someone beat you up?" a crew-cut man asked noisily, his gaze sweeping over the two of them. "Who did you fight? That's brutal."

The tall, thin youth clutched his ribs, baring his teeth in pain. "Who else could it be? That Yang Jing! Fuck, that kid hid himself well. He's actually a trained fighter—he took the two of us down in just a few moves."

"I suspect he may have reached Entering Strength," the short-haired man said in a trembling voice.