The Journey of a Youth

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"Father, Uncle An, what are you talking about?"

While the strongman and the richly dressed man were talking, the young man had already trotted over. The strongman smiled at him and stopped speaking, while the richly dressed man crouched down and stroked the boy's hair, chuckling.

"We were wondering what could possibly be going on in Great Liang Village to raise such a robust young man..."

The boy's eyes lit up at that, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Exactly. The books say this is called 'a common household concealing a hero.'"

The richly dressed man cursed the book's author inwardly, but his expression remained unchanged. He merely furrowed his brows and said, seemingly puzzled, "That is indeed the case. It's just that I wonder which is more formidable—the few masters of yours, or this young man."

The boy's expression froze slightly. After a moment, he said uncertainly, "It should... it should be my masters, shouldn't it?"

"After all, my masters are older and have more experience..."

Hearing this, the burly man swept his child up into his arms, straightened his body, and laughed heartily.

"Heroes of the world aren't ranked by age! In this age, there is the Saint of the Sword, who lashed the world with a wooden sword while still young, and there are Confucianism masters who, in their twilight years, still possess undiminished ardor. Since we are martial artists, the only way to know who is superior is to fight!"

"How about this? Your masters, along with that young man, can have a contest. Whoever defeats them all will have his monthly salary doubled, along with gifts of fine wine and beautiful women. What do you gentlemen say?"

As he spoke, he smiled toward the other six riders nearby. Among them were a Daoist in white robes and a jade crown, as well as a burly man wearing patched robes with a wine gourd hanging from his waist. A flicker of heat quietly rose in all their eyes. After a moment of silence, the Daoist coughed lightly and said solemnly, "Although money and pleasure are external things, how could we martial artists lack the desire to compete for victory and defeat? This poor Daoist may be unworthy, but I am willing to use my three-foot blade to seek instruction from all of you."

A dwarf elder nearby gave a cold snort. His ten fingers knocked together as he chuckled darkly.

"You're a Daoist mystic, yet you're not afraid that women and money will taint your cultivation? Rather than let you shoulder all these karmic debts, this old man might as well bear them for you."

"That won't do, that won't do... You're already old. Don't grow attached to the mortal world."

The strongman watched as these six people began quarreling over superiority in the blink of an eye, without the slightest trace of a great master's bearing. His face remained calm, but he sneered inwardly.

If they hadn't played at being gods and ghosts and won the young master's favor, he alone could have let them have one arm and still slaughtered all these good-for-nothings within thirty breaths. Their current dispute was merely because they knew none of them possessed much ability, allowing them to boldly contend for superiority.

They were like domestic dogs: trembling like sieves before a fierce tiger, yet barking furiously at a stray dog on the road—all because they were relying on their master's power.

He only wondered how strong that young man was.

He had become somewhat lost in thought when, just then, a faint clinking of chains seemed to come from the distance. At the same time, there came a subtle yet pungent smell of blood. The strongman's expression shifted slightly. He stepped sideways, blocking the richly dressed man and the boy behind him. The masters, meanwhile, were still noisily arguing over who was superior.

The sound of chains gradually drew closer. Only then did the masters stop quarreling. As they listened to the chains' slow, ringing rhythm, an inexplicable unease arose in their hearts. The man who had previously come to Great Liang Village to purchase timber, however, cried out loudly, "That's the sound!"

"Young Master Zhao, that young man has returned!"

Zhao Xiujie's eyes lit up. He struggled free from his father's arms and leaped down, then gazed excitedly toward the direction of the sound. The masters seemed to feel that their earlier unease had damaged their dignity before the young master. They coughed lightly and all put on inscrutable expressions. One of the burly men took a drink of wine and sneered.

"Looks like the little fellow who was chopping wood has returned."

"He certainly kept us waiting. Such a young age, who knows how strong he is? Yet he has quite a grand entrance."

As the clinking of chains drew ever closer, the smell of blood grew clearer as well. Unless someone had sliced off their nose, everyone could now smell the stench in the air, and their expressions could no longer remain relaxed.

The bushes beside the mountains outside the village trembled slightly, and a young man stepped out. He was not the broad-backed, muscular figure everyone had imagined earlier. His frame was somewhat thin, and his face was even rather handsome and refined. He wore a blue short jacket, but it was now riddled with tears and wounds. Several cuts marked his cheeks as well, and with the chains around his body, he looked extremely disheveled.

The burly man relaxed slightly and laughed aloud.

"Hahaha, little fellow, where's your tree? Did you leave it on the mountain?"

The young man paused, seemingly not having expected so many people to be here today. But since someone had asked, he answered, "Mm. Yes."

Indeed, it had been left on the mountain.

Hearing this, the man seemed even more pleased. He looked left and right and laughed. "You managed to chop yourself into a body full of wounds while chopping trees. We could smell your blood from far away. Young fellow, you're certainly vigorous and full of youthful spirit! Hahaha."

The excitement in Zhao Xiujie's eyes dimmed somewhat, while the richly dressed man sighed inwardly.

There was no need to provoke him with words. Looking at him like this, he probably didn't possess much real ability...

At that thought, his interest faded. But the strongman's expression stiffened slightly, his gaze fixed on the chain gripped in the young man's hand.

Wang Anfeng had no idea what they were thinking and simply continued, "Are you here to buy timber? If you want to purchase some, I'm sorry for the trouble, but please come again tomorrow."

The Daoist looked at him and said indifferently, "We heard that there was a young prodigy here and wished to exchange martial instruction with him and make friends. We did not expect the rumors to be untrustworthy. What a pity."

With that, he flicked his sleeve, turned his head, and no longer looked at him.

The richly dressed man pondered inwardly. He felt this was the perfect opportunity to advise the child not to become obsessed with rumors from the countryside, so he laughed and asked, "Little brother, since the tree is on the mountain, why wait until tomorrow?"

As he spoke, Wang Anfeng had already begun walking forward. Chains rang from his body, with many lengths extending from his right arm and pulled taut. With the young man's steps, a dark object was dragged out. Claws glinted coldly upon it, making the man's pupils contract slightly.

Wang Anfeng took another step forward and shouted softly. His muscles and bones exerted force. Amid the sound of scraping, a giant beast was slowly dragged out under everyone's horrified gaze, leaving conspicuous trails across the ground. Its body was massive, its claws sharp enough to rival blades and swords. Though it lay sprawled on the ground, it was far larger than the young man, and even with its eyes shut, a savage, violent aura rushed toward them.

The atmosphere froze for a breath.

Only after dragging it out did Wang Anfeng let out a sigh of relief. He turned and pointed at the giant beast.

"Because I still have other things to do today."

The young man had originally been dressed in a short jacket, covered in wounds and looking utterly disheveled. Yet with the black bear beside him, he now radiated an oppressive presence like a heavy sword without an edge, leaving everyone speechless.

By then, Zhao Xiujie had already approached the bear. His eyes widened as he examined it curiously from head to toe. Seeing how majestic the bear's head was, he reached out to touch it. But at that moment, the black bear's tightly shut eyes suddenly opened. It struggled and roared, and the savage aura of an exotic beast surged straight toward the boy. Its fangs were razor-sharp, and it opened its mouth to bite.

Everyone cried out in alarm. But just then, Wang Anfeng suddenly twisted around. The chain looped around the bear's neck tightened once more with a clattering boom. Taking advantage of the momentum, he flipped over and landed behind the black bear, then explosively unleashed his strength. The bear, only just regaining consciousness, struggled and roared furiously, but Wang Anfeng refused to loosen his grip, allowing it to smash its claws into the ground and pound out one crater after another.

For several full minutes, under the silent gazes of the seven or eight people before him and the villagers, Wang Anfeng forcibly choked the black bear—which weighed at least a thousand pounds—unconscious once more. Only then did he relax. His body was somewhat fatigued, and when he tried to climb down, his limbs briefly went weak, so he simply sat on the bear's back. He gave the pale-faced Zhao Xiujie a gentle smile and asked warmly, "Are you all right?"

Zhao Xiujie nodded blankly, as if he had been struck stupid. The richly dressed man beside him was likewise pale. He swallowed and gave a dry laugh.

"Little brother... no, Young Hero... why didn't you kill this bear?"

Wang Anfeng shook his head. Thinking of the message Mr. Ying had passed to him on the mountain, he sighed and said, "I practice Fist techniques."

The richly dressed man suddenly understood.

"So you're missing a sharp blade or sword."

"No. I'm missing an opponent."

The entire scene fell deathly silent. When the young man spoke of an opponent, he seemed to think of something. He lifted his eyes toward the few people who had been acting like highly accomplished masters, a glimmer seeming to leap within his gaze, and asked softly, "You said earlier that you wanted to exchange blows with me?"