The Storeroom

Seeing the crowd eagerly heading off to pursue and kill, Yang Qingyun did not stop them.

His goal for this trip was very clear—vengeance was not the objective; the objective was to seize the Black Wind Bandits' accumulated wealth over the years to fuel his own cultivation advancement.

"Where would it be?"

Crossing the wide open space, he arrived at the main hall of Black Wind Stronghold.

Gazing at the empty hall, and at the dried tiger head at the far end, beneath which stood the vacant tiger-skin chieftain's throne atop the steps, Yang Qingyun sank into thought.

It seemed he had killed them too early!

Who knew where they had hidden the wealth plundered over the years?

Such a matter, was probably known only to the three leaders of the Black Wind Bandits!

"Forget it, I'll search one place at a time."

Yang Qingyun shook his head slightly and resignedly prepared to search the surroundings.

However, Hm?

Someone?

He stomped one foot onto the ground, exerting force abruptly. The dark floor tiles cracked and split apart, and a thumb-sized piece of gravel sprang up, rising before him.

Yang Qingyun flicked his finger, and that piece of gravel instantly shot like a bullet toward the wooden wall draped with tattered cloth behind which something was hiding!

With a chi sound, the tattered cloth was pierced, and the gravel struck a figure concealed behind it!

"Ah!"

The figure cried out in pain, a wound torn through its shoulder by the gravel, and it tumbled out from hiding.

"It seems I won't have to worry after all. Can you tell me where your chieftain's valuables are kept?"

Yang Qingyun slowly walked over to the figure that had fallen to the ground, clutching the wound on its shoulder, and spoke calmly.

Lying on the ground

was a servant dressed in gray attendant's clothes.

Holding its shoulder wound, trembling all over, it looked up at Yang Qingyun in fear.

This was a menial worker in Black Wind Stronghold, responsible for cleaning and tidying.

"I've recalled some... not-so-pleasant memories."

A cold glint flashed in Yang Qingyun's eyes.

These people were servants plundered from the countryside by the Black Wind Bandits, the lowest in status within the stronghold, enduring endless bullying from the bandits.

Yet, they dared not resist the strong who inflicted pain upon them, but they dared to raise their blades against the weaker!

For instance, the slaves who had once been captured by the Black Wind Bandits alongside Yang Qingyun and imprisoned in the back mountain!

Withholding rations, false accusations, oppression, whipping, amusement—

this was truly not a pleasant memory.

Fortunately, the temperament tempered through the vicissitudes of his previous life allowed him to keep his emotions somewhat hidden. Though disgusted inside, he showed nothing on his face.

"I, I don't know!"

"Great Hero, Great Hero, spare me!"

The servant trembled all over, as if scared witless, lying prostrate on the ground, begging for mercy in a pitiful voice.

Anyone seeing this scene would likely feel a pang of sympathy.

But, this act had no effect on Yang Qingyun whatsoever.

After all, in his previous life, he had personally witnessed these very people, moments earlier torturing an innocent villager to death for amusement under the pretext of attempted escape, and the next moment trembling on their knees, faces pressed to the ground, groveling before Black Wind Bandit members, as humble as dust beneath their feet.

Bullying the weak and fearing the strong, inflicting even crueler methods on those weaker than themselves—this was their way of survival!

Yang Qingyuan had no desire to comment on right or wrong.

What he cared about was the wealth the Black Wind Bandits had accumulated over the years!

In this empty stronghold hall, everyone else had already fled, yet this fellow had not taken the chance to escape in the chaos but instead hid in some corner of the hall.

Clearly, he was someone with intentions!

And, Yang Qingyun could also faintly sense a fresh smell of blood on the other party—it seemed this fellow had killed someone not long ago.

Interesting.

"Is that so? Then I apologize. It appears you are of no use to me."

Yang Qingyun's expression was calm, revealing no hint of emotion as he spoke evenly.

"No! No! Great Hero, I am still useful!"

"I know where the Black Wind Stronghold's storehouse is! Spare my life! I'll take you there!"

"Then lead the way."

Yang Qingyun's face remained placid.

The servant scrambled to his feet, crawling and stumbling, and walked ahead in terror to guide the way.

Under the servant's direction, Yang Qingyun bypassed the stronghold's main hall and entered a secluded path, leaving behind the chaotic thatched huts of the stronghold. Following a tree-shaded trail, he passed several unmanned watch posts, an unlocked wooden gate, and finally arrived before a sheer cliff face!

A narrow plank road zigzagged up the cliff, folding back on itself, extending a hundred meters upward to a hollow cave carved into the middle of the precipice!

"Great Hero, that cave is the Black Wind Stronghold's storehouse! All the wealth of the entire stronghold is gathered there!"

The servant spoke cautiously, his eyes darting to gauge Yang Qingyun's expression.

Seeing that his gaze was fixed on the cliffside cave without a word, the servant carefully retreated to the side.

But then Yang Qingyun grabbed him by the collar, hoisted him up, and leaped into the air. Along the narrow plank road, he bounded several times like a Great Roc, swiftly landing inside the cave halfway up the cliff.

The cave was not small—the floor was four to five meters wide, with an irregularly arched ceiling. Inside, jagged rocks stretched into the dark depths.

It was unclear whether it was naturally formed or man-made.

Ever since the Black Wind Bandits had entrenched themselves here, they had installed an iron gate at the cave entrance, remodeling this cliffside cavern into their storehouse.

At this moment, the iron gate at the entrance had already been forced open. Numerous corpses lay on the ground. Nearby, several Black Wind Bandits, carrying heavy bundles on their backs, were locked in combat with weapons drawn. The fallen bodies had torn sacks spilling white silver coins.

This was the storehouse, no mistake!

Seeing this scene, Yang Qingyun knew he had come to the right place. He casually tossed the servant aside.

Just then, as Yang Qingyun appeared, one of the bandits, bloodshot eyes blazing from the fight, charged at him with a blade aimed at his head.

"You seek death!"

Yang Qingyun had no intention of indulging them. His gaze turned cold.

With two fingers, he effortlessly clamped down on the incoming blade, then, as the bandit stared in shock, flicked with precise force, dislodging the longsword from his grip and smoothly snatching it away.

At the same time, his left fist shot out, shattering the bandit's ribs and caving in his chest. The man flew backward like a cannonball, crashing into the stone wall, coughing up blood, clearly dead.

This sight

was witnessed by the remaining bandits still fighting, and all were startled.

But Yang Qingyun wasted no words with them. His figure flickered, blade light flashed, blood splattered, and in the span of a breath, he cut down several on the spot!

Yang Qingyun strode, blade in hand, deeper into the storehouse.

Several large wooden chests lay scattered on the ground, spilled silver tarnished with mud and stained with blood. Several factions of Black Wind Bandits had been battling here, throwing the entire storehouse into chaos, all of them drunk on bloodlust.

Without a word, Yang Qingyun sent every last blood-crazed bandit to cool off.

Soon, only Yang Qingyun remained alive in the storehouse.

He used his blade to flip open the wooden chests one after another. Gleaming silver ingots, silk brocades, scrolls, jade ornaments—all manner of precious collections.

A vast fortune, enough to lift one's spirits.

With this substantial wealth, there was no doubt that Yang Qingyun's Martial Path would be much smoother from here on!

"Enough money to buy sufficient medicinal herbs, refine pills, and cultivate Qi and Blood. I need to raise my cultivation as quickly as possible, so I'll have the strength to seize those opportunities from my Previous Life that have yet to emerge."

"But... isn't this a bit too little?"

Upon closer thought, Yang Qingyun's brow furrowed slightly.

All these items looked plentiful, but in total, they probably amounted to no more than ten thousand taels of silver.

The Black Wind Bandits had occupied this place for years, and during that time, they had ravaged half the wilderness of Huangshi Town, destroyed dozens of villages, and plundered countless wealthy households. How could they only have this much?

Suddenly, Yang Qingyun seemed to realize something.

His figure flickered, and he retreated.

But

the iron gate he had entered through was now firmly shut, sealed not only with a heavy lock but also with a massive stone slab triggered by a mechanism, pressed tightly against the gate.

The iron door was completely locked!

Yang Qingyun's gaze turned icy, brimming with killing intent!

"Huff! Huff!"

Inside the chaotic Black Wind Stronghold, the servant who had earlier led Yang Qingyun to the storeroom was now rushing anxiously toward the stronghold's main hall.

By now, several corpses lay on the floor of the Assembly Hall, but no one else was in sight—after all, this was merely a meeting place for the Black Wind Bandits, holding little of value.

After some had finished their skirmishes, they had left for other areas.

Carefully scanning his surroundings and confirming no one was around, the servant suppressed the barely contained excitement in his heart and crept stealthily toward the direction of the Tiger Skin Throne.

Climbing onto the chair, he stood on tiptoe, took down the dried Tiger Head Trophy mounted above, and reached into the hollow space behind its skull to pull out several soft sheets of paper, two booklets, and three boxes.

Just as delight swelled within him—

Pfft!

A blade suddenly pierced through his body from behind. The servant's eyes flew wide open, as if he wanted to say something.

But Yang Qingyun gave him no chance to speak. With a palm strike to his head, he shattered the skull, utterly extinguishing his life.

"You thought you could trap me to death with such petty tricks? Ridiculous!"

Yang Qingyun's face darkened.

Though no serious consequences had come of it, being schemed against left him deeply displeased.

He snatched the items from the man's hands.

The first thing to catch his eye were five soft sheets of some unknown material, embroidered with patterns that seemed woven from golden thread.

Amid the dense, artful golden silk lines were written several large characters:

Sihai Trading Company, Gold Note, One Thousand Taels!

Yang Qingyun raised an eyebrow. This was a gold note for one thousand taels of gold!

And there were five such gold notes in total!