A change in standing

Under cover of night, Yang Jing soon returned to his little courtyard in Tongyi Ward.

The instant he pushed open the courtyard gate, his brow furrowed.

The wooden door to the house stood ajar, with signs of violent prying around its hinges.

He hurried inside and looked around by the moonlight, his brow creasing slightly.

The table and chairs had been overturned, the bed ransacked, and the wooden chest in the corner left open, its clothes scattered across the floor. Someone had clearly searched the place thoroughly.

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

Zhao Meng and Qian Bao must have sent men to search his residence, most likely hoping to find the Great Fortune Gang's stolen wealth.

When they failed to find it, the two had taken matters into their own hands, intending to capture and interrogate him. But they had underestimated his strength, and he had killed them instead.

Yang Jing did not hurry to tidy up. His gaze swept through the room, confirming that aside from the mess, nothing had been lost.

Then he turned and walked into the courtyard, looking toward the old pagoda tree.

He picked up the iron shovel from the corner, walked over to the tree, and dug a hole.

He had already considered that even having a courtyard of his own did not guarantee safety, so he had divided the gold, silver, and ginseng acquired from the Great Fortune Gang into three portions. One was hidden on a roof beam back at his old home, another buried beneath the pagoda tree in the courtyard, and the last kept on his person for everyday expenses.

Beneath the soil lay a sturdy wooden box.

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

These were his gains from Xu Tai of the Great Fortune Gang, and his most important savings at present. He had deliberately hidden them in this inconspicuous spot, never expecting that they really would escape the Righteousness Gang's search.

Yang Jing breathed a sigh of relief, closed the box, and carefully buried it again. He stamped the soil firm and restored its original appearance, leaving not even a trace of digging.

Only after finishing all this did he return inside, though he still did not immediately clean up the mess.

Nothing had been lost, after all. A little disorder hardly mattered.

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

The Righteousness Gang had already traced matters back to him and even thought to search his residence. Clearly, last night's decision had been right. Had he not pushed through to hidden strength in one burst, he would have been in real danger today.

Now that Zhao Meng and Qian Bao were dead, the Righteousness Gang was a dragon without a head. That was one less threat to worry about.

As he pondered, Yang Jing took out the two money pouches he had acquired from Zhao Meng and Qian Bao. He emptied the silver onto the table and set down the little porcelain bottle, then tossed the pouches aside to burn later.

Yang Jing gathered the silver together, its reassuring weight settling into his hand.

He picked up the little porcelain bottle containing the dark red pills and examined it against the moonlight. Their medicinal fragrance was rich, but he could not guess their precise effects. For now, he could only tuck it into his robe and discreetly inquire at the Liu Medical Hall when an opportunity arose.

Looking at the silver and porcelain bottle on the table, Yang Jing pressed his lips together and tapped the tabletop, calculating the Righteousness Gang's wealth.

Zhao Meng and Qian Bao had not carried much silver. As gang leaders, their savings surely amounted to more than this; they simply had not kept most of it on them. That meant there might be considerable wealth at the Righteousness Gang's headquarters.

But... should he go plunder their headquarters? He dismissed the thought as soon as it arose.

There were too many people and watchful eyes there. Even with his hidden strength, sneaking in beneath the noses of so many gang members would be difficult. Fighting his way in would be easy enough, but it would inevitably stir up a storm throughout the city. If the authorities seriously investigated, trouble would be hard to avoid.

For now, he was not short of money. Having broken through to hidden strength, earning more would be much easier. Ultimately, the Righteousness Gang was merely a gang founded by bright strength martial artists. Even if they had some wealth, it no longer mattered that much to him.

In that case, better one less complication than one more.

With that settled, Yang Jing stopped dwelling on it and put both the silver and porcelain bottle into his own money pouch.

Then he left the main room and entered the kitchen. He cut off a piece of bear meat weighing a full jin and put it in the pot. While lighting the stove, he tossed Zhao Meng's and Qian Bao's money pouches into the fire, then boiled the meat in water and ate it along with the broth.

Warm energy flowed through his whole body, but its effect was noticeably weaker than when he had been at bright strength.

Now that his cultivation had advanced, the nourishment provided by ordinary fierce beast meat was clearly less effective than before.

Looks like I need to use that aged ginseng soon.

Yang Jing rubbed his stomach and thought to himself.

In a couple of days, he would begin consuming that root little by little. He reckoned its effects would be far stronger than those of ordinary fierce beast meat.

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

Yang Jing walked outside, lowered his hips, and settled into a horse stance. He slowly executed Open Mountain, formally beginning to explore Mountain Collapse Fist at the hidden strength level.

Fist Wind swept through the air. Rather than pursuing the sheer ferocity of bright strength, he concealed hidden strength within the transitions of his moves.

He deliberately slowed down, feeling how internal energy wound along his spine and burst forth just before his fist made contact, carrying a deft force capable of piercing stone and metal.

The principle of Entwining, which Sun Yong had explained that day, gradually became clearer through repeated practice. With one punch, his internal energy divided into three streams: one struck the surface, another penetrated within, and the last actually circled slightly inside the body, its lingering force long and sustained.

Moonlight spilled over him, stretching and shortening his shadow.

Once, twice, three times... Yang Jing became completely absorbed in the blending of his fist forms and internal energy. Only after more than two hours did he slowly withdraw his fists and release a long breath of stale air. The column of breath actually held together in the air before finally dissolving into white mist.

"The intricacies of hidden strength really are unfathomable." Feeling the increasingly smooth flow of internal energy within him, Yang Jing's eyes flashed with understanding.

This practice session had given him a clearer understanding of hidden strength. He had gained a great deal.

Yang Jing stood with his fists withdrawn, breathing slightly harder, while hidden strength continued circulating within him.

The night was deep, but his mind was clear. He decided not to rest, changed his stance, and began practicing Surging Wave Leg.

Though he had not practiced this leg technique for long, he approached it from a commanding height. Having trained Mountain Collapse Fist to bright strength and then hidden strength, his progress with Surging Wave Leg had advanced by leaps and bounds. He was already close to the threshold of bright strength.

Now that he possessed hidden strength, his understanding of force was beyond comparison with before. Between kicks, stamps, sweeps, and thrusts, he deliberately guided his internal energy down into his legs, trying to unlock the key to bright strength.

After an unknown number of rounds, he executed Waves Strike the Embankment. As his right leg swept through the air, it suddenly raised a faint whistling sound.

Humm-

A stream of heat shot from the root of his thigh straight to his toes. Yang Jing felt his whole body jolt, as though something had shattered.

When he looked up again, his surroundings seemed a little clearer. His legs felt weightless, yet brimmed with immense power.

Surging Wave Leg had finally broken through to bright strength!

He tried taking a step. His figure flickered, and he was already more than a zhang away, nearly half again as fast as before.

Quietly applying force as his toes touched the ground, he floated up like willow fluff and landed without a sound, not even disturbing the insects chirping in the courtyard corner.

He tried Against the Current next. His legs moved in alternating leaps as his figure darted through the courtyard, leaving three or four afterimages. His footwork flowed several times more smoothly than before, truly like surging waves crashing against the shore, continuous and without the slightest hitch.

What delighted him even more was how perfectly the leg technique blended with his movement.

Previously, his footwork had always struggled to keep pace with his punches. Now that Surging Wave Leg had reached bright strength, his steps were as nimble as an ape's. He could instantly widen the distance while evading or follow an opponent like a shadow when pressing an attack, complementing the hidden strength of Mountain Collapse Fist perfectly.

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He suddenly spun, sweeping his right leg sideways. The gust it raised actually tore several fragments of tile from the courtyard wall, sending them crashing to the ground with a crack.

The speed and power of this strike had at least doubled since before his breakthrough-perhaps more.

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

Bringing Surging Wave Leg to bright strength had not merely improved the technique itself. It had raised his overall combat power to a new level.

His hidden strength fist technique led the attack, while his bright strength leg technique provided speed. One hard, one soft; one moving, one still. The obvious gaps between offense and defense had diminished.

With bright strength Surging Wave Leg supporting him, the inner force throughout his body felt more powerful. An ordinary hidden strength martial artist of the same level could no longer compare with him.

His movements were swift as a phantom, his punches penetrating deep into the organs. If he encountered someone like Zhao Meng again, even a prepared opponent, he was fully confident he could end the fight within a few moves.

The night breeze swept through the courtyard, bringing a touch of coolness.

Yang Jing drew a deep breath, calmed his surging blood and qi, and stood quietly in the courtyard as thoughts crowded his mind.

This is my advantage. Others would find it difficult to replicate.

Everyone has limited time and energy.

To go far along the martial path, they can only follow one road. Perhaps only after encountering a truly despair-inducing bottleneck they cannot cross will they begin cultivating a second martial art.

Master and the masters of other martial arts halls most likely know more than one martial art, but each has a specialty.

But as far as I know, although several disciples here practice a second martial art, none has brought it to bright strength. They only practice it casually. Liu Maolin, for instance, focuses on Mountain Collapse Fist, but because he believes he has no hope of breaking through to transforming strength anytime soon, he has also made his Ancestral Palm Technique a focus.

But I have no bottlenecks. While focusing on one martial art, I'm better suited to cultivating others alongside it. Working from a commanding height, even if I spare only a little time for them, I can progress rapidly and greatly improve my strength.

The next day.

News of Zhao Meng's and Qian Bao's deaths seemed to grow legs, spreading through the streets and alleys of every ward in West City.

"Have you heard? Zhao Meng and Qian Bao of the Righteousness Gang are dead!"

"Oh? How did they die?"

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

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

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

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

Never mind two dead gang leaders-even if an entire gang was uprooted, people would stop mentioning it after a while.

Some sighed over it, merely feeling that the Righteousness Gang had fallen as quickly as it had risen.

Not long ago, they had crushed the Great Fortune Gang. Zhao Meng and Qian Bao had swaggered around Guang'an Ward, flaunting their might, their strides stirring the wind. Who could have imagined that so soon afterward, they would become two nameless corpses in a dark alley?

"If you ask me, remnants of the Great Fortune Gang probably paid an expert to avenge them," one tea drinker said, smacking his lips. "Wasn't someone saying their wealth had been hidden away, and the Righteousness Gang still hadn't found it? They must have used that money to hire an expert. Think about it. Xu Tai died under murky circumstances. Could his men really swallow that anger?"

"Not necessarily. The Righteousness Gang seized so much territory these past two years that the people they offended could line up from the east side of the city to the west. Who knows which enemy came knocking?"

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

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

"Whatever happened, it's best not to provoke those martial arts hall disciples. You never know when you might offend someone you can't afford to offend."

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For all their talk, no one truly investigated.

An officer from the authorities came to take a look. Seeing that it was a gang conflict, he could not even be bothered to carry away the bodies. He simply ordered someone to drag them off and bury them, wrote "Internal gang conflict, dealt with" in the file, and considered the case closed.

The Righteousness Gang's headquarters in Guang'an Ward and its outposts in other wards had already descended into chaos.

With both leaders suddenly dead, the underlings scattered like monkeys from a fallen tree. Everything valuable was looted, and within half a day, only empty courtyards remained. Even the flag embroidered with the character for "righteousness" at the entrance had been torn down and trampled into the mud.

Yang Jing saw all of this.

Passing through Guang'an Ward that morning, he did not even slow down at the sight of the wreckage. Two Righteousness Gang members spotted him, however, and instantly turned pale before tremblingly turning and fleeing.

To him, Zhao Meng's and Qian Bao's deaths had merely removed a threat. Whatever the outside world discussed or guessed had nothing to do with him.

His mind was now filled entirely with his own martial path. Mountain Collapse Fist had reached hidden strength, and Surging Wave Leg had broken through to bright strength, filling him with anticipation for the road ahead!

After circling Guang'an Ward and losing some time, Yang Jing arrived at the Martial Arts Hall. Quite a few disciples were already practicing their punches in the front courtyard.

Usually, everyone practiced on their own.

Today, however, someone called out the moment he entered the gate, "Morning, Senior Brother Yang!"

The voice was loud, with a touch of deliberate warmth.

Yang Jing paused and looked up. Several disciples he barely knew had stopped practicing, their faces full of respectful smiles.

He nodded slightly in response and walked a few steps farther. More people gathered around him, offering greetings all at once. The friendliness in their voices was utterly unlike before.

"Senior Brother Yang is here!"

"Hello, senior brother!"

As he walked, calls of "Senior Brother Yang" followed him without end. Several disciples practicing in the spacious central area of the front courtyard even moved aside of their own accord, yielding the open space at its heart. Normally, only core disciples such as Lin Yue and Qi Yun used this spot.

Yang Jing walked into the center of the cleared space. Seeing the open and furtive glances the surrounding disciples directed at him, he could not help feeling moved.

He remembered how his breakthrough to bright strength had drawn some attention, but nowhere near this much.

Back then, many disciples had probably still harbored a stubborn drive, thinking that with a little more effort, they might catch up. Their hopes of a lucky chance had not yet died.

But hidden strength was different. That threshold was too high; the vast majority would never reach it in their lifetimes. Once someone crossed it, the gap became that between clouds and mud. There was no longer any hope of catching up through luck.

This respect was directed at his status as a hidden strength martial artist.

He drew a deep breath, suppressed the ripples in his heart, lowered his hips into a horse stance, and began practicing Mountain Collapse Fist.

As his fists stirred the air, the surrounding chatter quietly subsided. The disciples either watched from afar or lowered their heads and continued practicing, but no one dared approach and disturb him.

Sunlight climbed over the wall and fell across the front courtyard, drawing a clear distinction between Yang Jing's figure and the outlines of the disciples around him.

Yang Jing vaguely sensed that from the moment he broke through to hidden strength, his position in this Martial Arts Hall had already changed.