Shift in Status

In the night, Yang Jing quickly returned to the small courtyard in Tongyi Ward.

The instant he pushed open the courtyard gate, Yang Jing frowned.

The wooden door inside the house was ajar, and there were signs of violent prying around the hinges.

He strode into the room and, by the moonlight, his brow furrowed slightly.

The tables and chairs had been overturned, the bedding rummaged into a mess, and the wooden chest in the corner stood open, its clothes scattered all over the floor. Someone had clearly searched the place thoroughly.

"It must have been the Righteousness Gang." Yang Jing understood at once.

Zhao Meng and Qian Bao had likely sent men to search his residence, hoping to find the batch of valuables from the Great Fortune Gang.

When they failed to find it, the two had acted personally, intending to capture and interrogate him. They had only underestimated his strength and been killed by him instead.

Yang Jing did not rush to tidy up. His gaze swept across the room, confirming that aside from the mess, there were no other losses.

He then turned and walked into the courtyard, his eyes settling beneath the old locust tree.

He picked up the iron shovel in the corner and went over to the tree, digging a hole in the earth.

He had long considered that even after getting a courtyard of his own, it might not be safe. So he had divided the gold, silver, and ginseng he had obtained from the Great Fortune Gang into three portions: one hidden atop the beam of his old home, one buried beneath the locust tree in the courtyard, and one carried on his person for daily expenses.

Beneath the soil lay a sturdy wooden box.

Yang Jing lifted out the box and opened it. The gold bars, silver ingots, and the old wild ginseng wrapped in brocade were all intact.

These were the gains he had taken from Xu Tai of the Great Fortune Gang, and his most important savings at present. He had deliberately hidden them in this most inconspicuous place, never expecting it to truly evade the Righteousness Gang's search.

Yang Jing breathed a sigh of relief, closed the box again, and carefully buried it back in the hole. He tamped the soil down with his feet, restoring it to its original appearance without leaving the slightest trace of digging.

Only after finishing all this did he return to the room, without immediately cleaning up the wreckage.

Since nothing had been lost, this little disorder did not matter.

He sat down by the table, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and drank it, calmly gazing out at the night beyond the window.

Since the Righteousness Gang had already traced matters back to him and even thought to search his home, his decision last night had truly been the right one. If he had not broken through to Hidden Strength in one go, today would have been genuinely dangerous.

Now that Zhao Meng and Qian Bao were dead, the Righteousness Gang was a dragon without a head. That was one less hidden danger.

As he pondered, Yang Jing took out the two money pouches he had gotten from Zhao Meng and Qian Bao, poured the silver onto the table, and set the small porcelain bottle beside it. He then tossed the two pouches aside, intending to burn them later.

Yang Jing gathered up the silver on the table. Its heavy weight in his hand felt reassuring.

He then picked up the small porcelain bottle containing the dark-red Pills and examined it against the moonlight. Its medicinal fragrance was rich, but he could not guess its exact effect, so he could only tuck it away for now. When the chance arose, he could discreetly inquire about it at Liu Medical Hall.

Yang Jing looked at the silver and porcelain bottle on the table, his lips pressed thin as his fingertips tapped the tabletop. In his heart, he began calculating the Righteousness Gang's assets.

The silver Zhao Meng and Qian Bao carried on them was not much. As leaders of a gang, their savings certainly amounted to more than this, but most of it had not been on their persons. By that reasoning, the Righteousness Gang headquarters might hold quite a substantial stash.

But... loot the Righteousness Gang headquarters? The thought had barely arisen before he suppressed it.

There were too many people there, too many watchful eyes. Even though he was now at Hidden Strength, sneaking in unnoticed beneath the eyes of the Righteousness Gang's many members would be difficult. Charging in and killing his way through would not be hard, but it would inevitably stir up a citywide uproar. If the authorities truly investigated, trouble would be unavoidable.

For now, he did not lack silver. Having broken through to Hidden Strength, making money would be much easier in the future. The Righteousness Gang was, in the end, merely a gang founded by a Bright Strength martial artist. Even if it had some money, it was no longer so important to him.

Since that was the case, it was better to have one less matter than one more.

Having thought it through, Yang Jing stopped dwelling on it and put both the silver and porcelain bottle into his own money pouch.

He then rose, left the main room, and entered the kitchen. He cut off a chunk of Bear Meat weighing a full jin and put it in the pot. As he lit the stove, he tossed Zhao Meng and Qian Bao's money pouches into the flames to burn, then boiled the Bear Meat in water and ate both the meat and broth.

Warm energy flowed through his entire body, but he could clearly feel that it was far weaker than when he had been at Bright Strength.

Now that his realm had improved, the nourishment provided by ordinary Fierce Beast Meat was plainly much less effective than before.

"Looks like I need to use that old ginseng soon."

Yang Jing rubbed his stomach and thought to himself.

In a couple of days, he would slowly begin consuming that old ginseng. Its effects would likely be far stronger than ordinary Fierce Beast Meat.

The night deepened, until only the chirping of insects remained in the courtyard.

Yang Jing walked into the yard, lowered his stance, and planted his feet. He slowly performed a stance of Open Mountain, formally beginning to study the Hidden Strength level of the Mountain Collapse Fist.

His fist wind swept past. He no longer sought the fierce force of Bright Strength, instead concealing Hidden Strength within the turns of his movements.

He deliberately slowed down, feeling how Internal Energy wound along his spine and how, at the instant his fist was about to touch but had not yet touched, it suddenly burst forth, carrying a subtle force capable of piercing stone and boring through gold.

The principle of "coil" that Sun Yong had taught him during the day gradually became clearer through repeated practice. When he threw a punch, his Internal Energy split into three streams: one struck the surface, one penetrated within, and the last could even faintly spiral inside the body, leaving a lingering reserve of force.

Moonlight spilled over him, stretching his shadow long and short.

Once, twice, three times... Yang Jing immersed himself completely in the fusion of fist forms and Internal Energy. Only after more than an hour did he slowly withdraw his fists and exhale a long breath of turbid air. The stream of breath actually condensed in the air without dispersing, only turning into white mist after a moment.

"The ways of Hidden Strength truly run unfathomably deep." Yang Jing felt the increasingly smooth and harmonious Internal Energy within him, and a glimmer of realization flashed through his eyes.

This round of cultivation had given him a clearer understanding of Hidden Strength, and his gains were immense.

Standing with his fists withdrawn, Yang Jing breathed slightly heavily as Hidden Strength circulated endlessly within him.

The night was deep, yet his heart felt clear and open. Rather than rest, he simply changed his stance and began practicing Surging Wave Leg.

Though he had not practiced this leg technique for long, he stood high enough to see far. Having cultivated the Mountain Collapse Fist to Bright Strength and even Hidden Strength, his progress with Surging Wave Leg had advanced by leaps and bounds. He was already close to touching the threshold of Bright Strength.

Now, with Hidden Strength in his body, his understanding of "force" was no longer what it had once been. Between kicks, stamps, sweeps, and thrusts, he deliberately guided Internal Energy down into his legs, trying to pry open the key to Bright Strength.

After who knew how many exchanges, when he unleashed a move of "Waves Strike the Embankment," his right leg swept through the air and suddenly produced a faint howl.

"Buzz—"

A surge of heat shot from the root of his thigh to his toes. Yang Jing's entire body trembled, as though something within him had shattered open.

When he raised his eyes again, the scenery around him seemed several degrees clearer. His legs felt weightless, yet they contained boundless power.

Surging Wave Leg had finally broken through to the Bright Strength level!

He tried taking a step. His figure flashed, and he was already over ten feet away—nearly half again as fast as before.

As his toes touched down, he silently exerted force. His entire body floated up like willow fluff, landing without a sound, not even disturbing the insects chirping in the corner of the courtyard.

He tried another move, "Against the Current." His legs shifted and sprang in alternation, his figure darting through the courtyard. The afterimages he left behind numbered as many as three or four. The transitions in his footwork were several times smoother than before, like stormy waves crashing endlessly against the shore, continuous and without the slightest hitch.

What delighted him even more was that his leg techniques and movement techniques had become one seamless whole.

When he threw punches in the past, his footwork could never quite keep up with his fist speed. Now that Surging Wave Leg had entered Bright Strength, his steps were as nimble as an ape's. He could instantly open the distance while evading, yet also follow like a shadow when pressing the attack, coordinating perfectly with the Hidden Strength of Mountain Collapse Fist.

He abruptly spun, sweeping his right leg sideways. The gust of force it raised actually tore several loose roof tiles from the courtyard wall, sending them smashing to the ground with a crack.

The speed and power of this strike were at least twice what they had been before the breakthrough.

Yang Jing stopped and looked down at his legs, excitement flashing in his eyes.

Surging Wave Leg entering Bright Strength was not merely an improvement in his leg techniques—it had also raised his overall combat power to a whole new level.

His Hidden Strength fist technique focused on offense, while his Bright Strength leg technique prioritized speed. One hard and one supple, one moving and one still—there were now far fewer obvious flaws between attack and defense.

At this moment, bolstered by the Bright Strength Surging Wave Leg, the Inner Force throughout his body felt even more vigorous. Among those of the same realm, he was no longer someone an ordinary Hidden Strength martial artist could compare to.

His movement was swift as a ghost, his fist force sank through to the organs. If he encountered the likes of Zhao Meng again, then even if the other side came prepared, he was fully confident he could end the fight within a few moves.

The night wind swept through the courtyard, carrying a trace of chill.

Yang Jing took a deep breath and calmed his surging blood and qi. Standing quietly in the courtyard, all manner of thoughts flooded through his mind.

"This is my advantage. It would be difficult for others to replicate."

"Everyone's time and energy are limited."

"If one wishes to go far on the path of martial arts, one can only follow a single path. Perhaps only after encountering a true bottleneck that leaves them in despair, one they cannot cross, would they begin cultivating a second martial art."

"Master and the other martial hall masters likely know more than one martial art, though each has their own specialty."

"But as far as I know, although several disciples in the martial hall are now cultivating a second martial art, none have broken through to Bright Strength. They are merely practicing them casually. Liu Maolin, for instance, while focusing on Mountain Collapse Fist, believed he had no hope of breaking through to Transforming Strength anytime soon, so he also began focusing on his family's inherited palm technique."

"But I have no bottlenecks. While focusing on one martial art, I am better suited to cultivating others alongside it. With a lofty vantage point, even if I devote only a small amount of time to training, I can still progress rapidly and greatly increase my strength."

The next day.

News of Zhao Meng and Qian Bao's deaths spread through the streets and alleys of every market district in the western city as if it had grown legs.

"Did you hear? Zhao Meng and Qian Bao of the Righteousness Gang are dead!"

"Oh? How did they die?"

"No idea. Their bodies were beaten to pulp. Looks like someone seeking revenge went for the kill."

People discussed it heatedly in teahouses and taverns, but it did not cause much of a stir.

These days, more and more refugees were gathering outside the city. People driven mad by hunger were capable of anything.

The gangs within the city were hardly idle either. Today you seized my territory; tomorrow I burned down your gambling den. Flashes of blades and clashing swords were commonplace.

Forget two gang leaders dying—even if an entire gang were uprooted, no one would mention it again after a while.

Some people sighed over it, feeling only that the Righteousness Gang had risen to prominence quickly and fallen just as swiftly.

Not long ago, they had crushed the Great Fortune Gang. Zhao Meng and Qian Bao had strutted around Guang'an Ward, throwing their weight around, practically walking with the wind at their backs. Who would have thought that so soon, they would become two nameless corpses in a dark alley?

"If you ask me, there's an eighty-percent chance that the remnants of the Great Fortune Gang spent money to hire experts to seek revenge on the Righteousness Gang," one tea drinker said, smacking his lips. "Didn't someone say before that the Great Fortune Gang had hidden away their assets, and the Righteousness Gang never found them? The Great Fortune Gang people must have used that money to hire experts. Think about it—Xu Tai died without rhyme or reason. Could the people under him really swallow that grievance?"

"Not necessarily. How much territory has the Righteousness Gang seized over the past two years? The people they've offended could line up from the eastern city to the western city. Who knows which enemy came knocking?"

"I heard they went to ambush a martial hall disciple. Maybe they weren't skilled enough and got killed by that disciple?"

"How is that possible? Who did you hear that from? If they dared set an ambush, they must have been confident. How could they have been so easily killed instead?"

"No matter what, it's best not to provoke those martial hall disciples. You never know when you'll offend someone you can't afford to offend."

"..."

Discussion was discussion, but no one truly looked into it.

The government constables came to take a look. Seeing it was gang infighting, they could not even be bothered to move the bodies. They simply ordered someone to drag them away and bury them, wrote "Bandit gang internal conflict, handled" in the case file, and considered the matter closed.

The Righteousness Gang's headquarters in Guang'an Ward, along with its various outposts in other districts, had long since descended into chaos.

With the two major leaders dead, the gang's underlings scattered like monkeys when the tree fell. Everything valuable was looted clean. Before half a day had passed, only empty courtyards remained. Even the flag at the entrance embroidered with the character "Righteousness" had been torn down and trampled into the mud.

Yang Jing saw all of this.

When he passed through Guang'an Ward that morning and saw that scene of devastation, he did not even slow his steps. However, two Righteousness Gang members spotted him, their faces instantly turning deathly pale before they trembled, turned around, and ran.

To him, Zhao Meng and Qian Bao's deaths had merely eliminated a hidden danger. How the outside world discussed or speculated about it had nothing to do with him.

His heart was now wholly occupied by his own martial path. Mountain Collapse Fist had attained Hidden Strength, and Surging Wave Leg had broken through to Bright Strength. The future path of martial arts filled him with anticipation!

After making a circuit around Guang'an Ward and losing some time, Yang Jing arrived at the martial arts hall to find quite a few disciples already practicing in the front courtyard.

Normally, everyone trained on their own.

But today, the moment he stepped through the gates, someone called out, "Good morning, Senior Brother Yang!"

The voice was loud, carrying a trace of deliberate warmth.

Yang Jing paused in surprise and looked up. Several disciples he was not usually familiar with had stopped their movements, respectful smiles piled across their faces.

He gave a slight nod in reply. After taking a few steps forward, several more people gathered around him, greeting him all at once, their tone of familiarity utterly unlike before.

"Senior Brother Yang is here!"

"Greetings, Senior Brother!"

As he walked onward, cries of "Senior Brother Yang" never ceased. Several disciples practicing in the broad central area of the front courtyard even moved aside on their own initiative, yielding the spacious core area to him. In the past, only core disciples such as Lin Yue and Qi Yun used this spot.

Yang Jing walked to the center of the cleared training ground. Looking at the open and covert glances cast his way by the surrounding disciples, he could not help but feel moved.

He recalled that when he had first entered Bright Strength, he had also drawn a wave of attention—but nothing close to this.

Back then, many disciples had likely still held a fire in their hearts, believing that if they worked a little harder, they might yet catch up. Their wishful hopes had not entirely died.

But Hidden Strength was different. Its threshold was too high; the overwhelming majority would struggle to touch it in their entire lives. Once someone crossed it, the difference was like clouds and mud—there was no longer even the hope of catching up.

This respect was for the status of a "Hidden Strength martial artist."

He drew a deep breath, suppressing the ripples in his heart. Lowering his waist and setting his stance, he began to practice the Mountain Collapse Fist.

As his fist wind rose, the discussions around him quietly subsided. Some disciples watched from afar, while others lowered their heads and continued training, yet none dared approach casually and disturb him.

Sunlight crept over the wall and spilled across the front courtyard, sharply dividing Yang Jing's figure from the outlines of the disciples around him.

Yang Jing vaguely sensed that from the moment he had broken through to Hidden Strength, his position within this martial arts hall had already become different.