Blood Splatters in the Dark Alley, Body Tempering's Might

In the alley, three robbers: one had his wrist broken, another's tiger mouth was split open, and the burly leader was so scared his heart was pounding. The young man before him landed on the rooftop, his movements as agile as if he weren't human. The stone in his hand, spinning between his fingers, was more chilling than any blade or axe.

"Friend, we were blind and offended you. Please accept this token of respect, and let's be friends!" The burly man, quick to adapt, untied his money pouch and tossed it over from a distance.

Ye Qingxuan didn't catch it; he let the money pouch fall onto the tiles. He leaped down from the roof, landing silently on the other end of the alley.

"Scram."

One word, without anger, yet colder than winter ice shards.

The burly man felt as if he'd received a great pardon. He helped his two injured companions, and the three scrambled away, disappearing from the alley entrance in moments.

Ye Qingxuan didn't go to pick up the money pouch. He stood in place, listening, the surroundings utterly silent except for the distant clapper of a night watchman, striking the third watch.

He slowly turned and walked back the way he came, his steps unhurried.

Earlier, in the black market cellar, when he exchanged silver ingots for that manual, he had already noticed several unfriendly gazes. These three robbers were merely the most impatient fools among them.

True hunters were more patient.

He turned a corner, and about thirty paces behind him, a dark figure clung to him like a maggot to bone, following at a steady pace. The person wore a low-brimmed bamboo hat, their movements far more skillful than the previous three. Their footsteps on the bluestone slabs were almost inaudible.

If Ye Qingxuan's Body Tempering had not reached the perfection of the second stage, his five senses and six perceptions would not have been so far beyond ordinary people, making it impossible for him to detect the follower.

The onlookers in the cellar, seeing the man in the bamboo hat tailing Ye Qingxuan, curled their lips in mockery. Another ignorant brat, carrying a fortune, too lazy to even bother with basic disguise – practically a fat sheep carrying a lantern in the dark, afraid the wolves wouldn't see him.

Ye Qingxuan's thoughts raced, but his feet deliberately stumbled, as if tripped by a stone, and he lurched forward. He quickly regained his balance and looked back, his eyes filled with panic.

The man in the bamboo hat behind him indeed quickened his pace.

Ye Qingxuan no longer hesitated and took to his heels. He deliberately chose deserted dead-end alleys, darting through narrow passages, his breathing growing heavier, his steps more erratic, appearing utterly terrified and running without direction.

Finally, he rushed headlong into a narrow alley with walls on three sides. At the end of the alley, garbage was piled high, emitting a foul, rotten smell.

He turned back "despairingly," leaning against the cold brick wall, his chest heaving, gasping for breath.

At the alley entrance, the man in the bamboo hat walked in unhurriedly, blocking the only exit. He slowly raised his head, his eyes beneath the hat revealing a cat-and-mouse playfulness.

"Running, why aren't you running anymore?" His voice was hoarse, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

Ye Qingxuan didn't answer, merely watching him warily, his body pressed against the wall as if trying to draw strength from it.

Seeing that he was trapped like a turtle in a jar, the man in the bamboo hat completely relaxed and approached step by step. His right hand slid a dagger from his sleeve, its blade glinting with a chilling white in the moonlight.

"Kid, remember this in your next life: flashing wealth in the black market is like handing over your life. Give me the silver and that martial arts manual, and I'll give you a quick end."

He was less than five paces from Ye Qingxuan. At this distance, he was completely confident of a fatal blow.

Ye Qingxuan's rapid breathing suddenly calmed. His panicked expression vanished completely. He looked at the man in the bamboo hat as if looking at a dead man.

This change made the man in the bamboo hat's heart skip a beat, a premonition of ill omen arising. He stopped wasting words, exerted force with his feet, and transformed into an afterimage, his dagger stabbing straight for Ye Qingxuan's heart.

At this moment, Ye Qingxuan moved.

He didn't retreat; instead, he stepped forward. With this step, he lowered his body extremely low, coiling himself into a ball. The full force of his perfected second-stage Body Tempering qi surged into his waist and hips, then drove his entire body, launching him forward with a sudden impact!

This was not some intricate technique, but a pure, primal burst of strength. He himself was like a boulder hurled by a trebuchet!

"Bang!"

A dull, heavy thud.

The dagger in the man in the bamboo hat's hand was still half an inch from Ye Qingxuan's chest, but it could advance no further. He felt an irresistible, immense force collide with his chest and abdomen, his internal organs displaced. He was lifted off his feet by this brute force, sent flying backward, and slammed heavily onto the ground.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, struggling to get up, his eyes filled with horror.

Body Tempering realm! And by no means just entering the first stage! This kid had been playing the pig to eat the tiger!

Without thinking, he scrambled on all fours, crawling desperately towards the alley entrance. He had only one thought: escape! Escape as far as possible!

However, a foot landed on the back of his head.

The owner of the foot had, at some unknown time, appeared before him. The strength of that foot was as heavy as a mountain, pressing his head firmly against the cold, dirty ground.

The man in the bamboo hat struggled violently, flailing his hands backward, only to grasp at empty air.

"You... Who exactly are you..." he gritted out between clenched teeth.

His answer was another foot.

Ye Qingxuan raised his right leg, the surging qi and blood of his perfected Body Tempering converging at his toe. Without the slightest hesitation, he brought his foot down fiercely towards the man in the bamboo hat's temple.

"Crack!"

A crisp sound of bone breaking, starkly piercing in the dead-silent narrow alley.

The man in the bamboo hat's body convulsed violently, then went limp.

Ye Qingxuan did not stop. He lifted his foot and stomped down hard on the man's nape!

"Snap!"

This time, it was the sound of a neck bone snapping.

The body completely ceased to move. A warm current, mixed with foul stench, spread out from beneath the corpse.

Ye Qingxuan stood in place, his chest rising and falling slightly. The thick smell of blood mingled with the alley's original fetid odor, assaulting his nostrils, making his stomach churn.

He turned his head, leaned against the wall, and gagged a few times, but nothing came up.

A moment later, he straightened up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. He walked over to the still-warm corpse and squatted down.

He reached out, his fingertips touching the skin of the person's neck. It was warm and sticky. He snatched his hand back as if scalded.

But it was only a moment's hesitation.

He reached out again, his movements no longer trembling. Enduring the slippery sensation, he began to search the corpse's clothes.

Soon, he pulled out a money pouch. It felt heavy in his hand, much heavier than his own three taels of silver. He felt around again, and in the corpse's boots, he found a short dagger.

The dagger was still in its sheath. The sheath was made of sharkskin, and the handle was wrapped with anti-slip twine. He drew the blade, revealing a deep, dark edge that could cut hair blown by the wind—a rare, sharp weapon.

He tucked the money pouch and dagger into his clothes and stood up.

He glanced at the corpse in the alley, his brow furrowed. The constables of the Fengtian Division were most skilled at investigating cases based on corpses. This person's face was intact. If discovered, it would be hard to prevent their identity from being recognized, which could lead to trouble related to the black market.

He walked to the corner of the wall and moved a square stone slab covered in mud. The slab was heavy, yet he lifted it with one hand, effortlessly.

He walked over to the corpse, looking at the conical hat still worn on its head. He didn't look at the face beneath the hat again. He raised the stone slab high, then let go.

"Thwack."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was more sickening than the cracking of bones just before.

After finishing, he walked to the pile of garbage, tore off a relatively clean piece of rag, squatted down, and carefully wiped the blood and brain matter splattered on the soles of his boots.

He wiped slowly and meticulously, as if cleaning a precious piece of porcelain.

Once he confirmed no traces were left, he tossed the rag far into the depths of the garbage heap, turned, and disappeared into the deep night.

On his way home, the night wind was exceptionally cold.

Ye Qingxuan touched the newly acquired dagger in his bosom, then weighed the heavy bag of silver.

He recalled the fight just now.

After his Body Tempering reached perfection, his physical defense and strength had reached a terrifying level. That head-on collision just now would likely have shattered the bones of an ordinary expert at the first or second stage of Body Tempering.

However, this technique was ultimately strong in defense and weak in offense. If not for his surprise attack and brute force to break through, it would have taken some effort to subdue the experienced man in the conical hat with just his fists and feet.

The last two kicks were purely driven by sheer ferocity and strength far exceeding that of ordinary people. If he had practiced any proper leg techniques, that first kick might have completely blown the man's head off, eliminating the need for a second blow.

His gaze pierced through the darkness, as if seeing the scroll he had just recorded in his mind.

Locust Throwing Technique.

This hidden weapon technique would perfectly compensate for his lack of offensive methods, especially his shortcomings in mid-to-long-range attacks.

The night in Linyuan Prefecture City was indeed full of danger, but also full of opportunities.