The three bandits in the alley had each suffered a different fate: one had a crippled wrist, another had a split web between thumb and forefinger, while the burly leader was even more chilled to the bone. The youth before them had landed on the rooftop with a lightness that seemed beyond mortal. The pebble spinning between his fingers was more terrifying than any blade or ax.
"Friend, we were blind to your greatness and offended you. Please accept this small token of respect. Take it as a gesture of friendship!" The burly man was quick to read the wind. He immediately untied the money pouch from his waist and tossed it over from afar.
Ye Qingxuan did not catch it, allowing the money pouch to land on the roof tiles. He leaped down from the rooftop and landed silently at the other end of the alley.
"Get lost."
The single word held no anger, yet it was colder than the ice chips of winter.
The burly man felt as if he had received a royal pardon. He helped up his two injured companions, and the three of them crawled and rolled away in a panic, vanishing from the alley entrance in moments.
Ye Qingxuan did not bother picking up the money pouch. He stood where he was, tilting his head to listen. The surroundings were utterly silent, save for the distant clapper of the night watchman, echoing through the third watch of the night.
He slowly turned around and walked back the way he had come, his pace neither hurried nor slow.
Back in the cellar of the Black Market, when he had exchanged silver ingots for that secret manual, he had already noticed several unfriendly gazes. These three bandits were merely the most impatient fools among them.
A true hunter was more patient.
After turning around a street corner, he sensed a dark shadow roughly thirty paces behind him. It clung to him like a maggot to bone, following at an unhurried pace. The man wore a bamboo hat pulled low over his face. His movement was far more skillful than that of the previous three, and his footsteps on the bluestone pavement were nearly inaudible.
If not for Ye Qingxuan's perfected Body Refining Second Layer, which had given him senses far beyond those of ordinary people, he would have been unable to detect him at all.
When the onlookers in the cellar saw the bamboo-hatted man tailing Ye Qingxuan, their lips curled in derision. Another fledgling who did not know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth. Carrying a fortune yet too lazy to bother with even the most basic disguise or concealment—he was a fat sheep carrying a lantern through the night, practically afraid the wolves might not see him.
A thought flashed through Ye Qingxuan's mind, but he deliberately stumbled, as though tripping over a pebble, and pitched forward. He hurriedly steadied himself and glanced back, his eyes filled with panic.
The bamboo-hatted man's footsteps indeed quickened.
Ye Qingxuan no longer hesitated and took off running. He deliberately chose deserted dead ends and squeezed through narrow passageways. His breathing grew heavier, his footsteps more chaotic, and he looked just like a man frightened out of his wits and running blindly wherever his feet took him.
At last, he plunged into a narrow alley enclosed by walls on three sides. At the end of the alley, garbage was piled as high as a mountain, giving off a sour, rotten stench.
He turned around in "despair," pressing his back against the cold brick wall. His chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.
The bamboo-hatted man entered the alley at an unhurried pace, blocking the only exit. He slowly raised his head. Beneath the bamboo hat, his eyes gleamed with the amusement of a cat toying with a mouse.
"Run. Why did you stop?" His voice was hoarse, like two sheets of sandpaper rubbing together.
Ye Qingxuan did not answer. He merely watched him warily, his body pressed against the wall as though he wanted to draw a little strength from it.
Seeing that his prey had been caught in a jar, the bamboo-hatted man finally let his guard down and advanced step by step. His right hand slid a dagger from his sleeve. Under the moonlight, its edge reflected a chilling white gleam.
"Kid, remember this in your next life. Showing off your wealth in the Black Market is the same as handing over your life. Give me the silver and that martial arts manual, and I'll give you a quick death."
He was less than five steps from Ye Qingxuan. At this distance, he was completely confident he could kill him with a single strike.
Ye Qingxuan's hurried breathing suddenly steadied. The panic-stricken look on his face vanished without a trace. He looked at the bamboo-hatted man as if he were looking at a dead man.
The change made the bamboo-hatted man's heart jolt, and an ominous premonition rose within him. He no longer wasted words. Pushing off with his feet, he transformed into a blur, his dagger stabbing straight toward Ye Qingxuan's heart.
At that moment, Ye Qingxuan moved.
He did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward. With that step, he lowered his body until it was nearly parallel to the ground, shrinking himself into a ball. The strength of his perfected Body Refining Second Layer poured into his waist and hips, which then drove his entire body forward in a sudden collision!
This was no exquisite technique, merely the purest and most primitive eruption of force. His entire body was a boulder hurled from a catapult!
"Bang!"
A dull, thunderous impact rang out.
The bamboo-hatted man's dagger was still half an inch from Ye Qingxuan's chest, yet it could advance no farther. He felt an irresistible force slam into his chest and abdomen, sending his internal organs askew. His feet left the ground as that brute force sent him flying backward, and he crashed heavily onto the ground.
A jet of blood sprayed from his mouth. He struggled to rise, his eyes already filled with terror.
Body Refining! And far beyond someone who had only just entered the Body Refining First Layer! This brat had been pretending to be a pig while eating the tiger!
Without a second thought, he crawled toward the alley entrance on all fours, disheveled and frantic. There was only one thought in his mind: escape! The farther away, the better!
Yet a foot came down on the back of his head.
The owner of that foot had somehow reached him. Its weight was as heavy as a mountain, pinning his head firmly against the cold, filthy ground.
The bamboo-hatted man struggled desperately, clawing backward with both hands, but grasped nothing but empty air.
"Who... who are you, exactly..." he forced out through clenched teeth.
The answer was another foot.
Ye Qingxuan raised his right leg. The qi and blood of perfected Body Refining surged and gathered at his toes. Without the slightest hesitation, he kicked viciously at the bamboo-hatted man's temple.
"Crack!"
The crisp sound of shattering bone rang through the silent narrow alley, especially grating to the ears.
The bamboo-hatted man's body jerked violently, then went limp.
Ye Qingxuan did not stop. He lifted his foot and stomped down hard on the man's nape!
"Crunch!"
This time, it was the sound of vertebrae snapping.
The body stopped moving completely. A hot stream mixed with foul-smelling filth spread out from beneath the corpse.
Ye Qingxuan stood where he was, his chest rising and falling slightly. The thick stench of blood mixed with the alley's existing sour rot and rushed into his nostrils, churning his stomach violently.
He turned his head, braced himself against the wall, and dry-heaved several times, but nothing came up.
After a moment, he straightened and wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. He walked over to the corpse, which still retained some warmth, and crouched down.
He extended a hand and touched the skin of the man's neck. It was warm and sticky. He jerked his hand back as if burned.
But only for a moment.
He reached out again, his movements no longer trembling. Enduring the slippery sensation, he searched through the man's clothes.
Before long, he felt out a money pouch. It was heavy in his hand, far heavier than the three taels of silver he possessed. He searched again and found a short dagger tucked inside the corpse's boot.
The dagger came with a sheath made of sharkskin. Fine cord had been wrapped around the hilt to prevent slipping. When he drew it, the blade gleamed with a deep luster. It could shave hair and sever it with a breath—an extraordinary weapon.
He tucked the money pouch and dagger into his clothes and stood up.
He glanced at the corpse in the alley, his brows furrowing. The constables of the Fengtian Division were best at solving cases through corpses. The man's face was still intact. If someone found him, there was no guarantee they would not identify him and trace the matter back to the Black Market.
He walked to the corner and lifted a square stone slab covered in mud. The slab was heavy, yet he held it in one hand without effort.
He walked over to the corpse and looked at the bamboo hat still perched on its head, no longer bothering to look at the face beneath it. He raised the stone slab high, then let go.
"Splurt."
The sound was not loud, yet it made one's teeth ache even more than the earlier crack of bone.
After finishing, he walked over to the pile of garbage, tore off a relatively clean scrap of cloth, and crouched down to carefully wipe away the blood and brain matter clinging to the soles of his boots.
He wiped slowly and meticulously, as though cleaning a precious porcelain vessel.
Only after confirming that he had left no trace did he toss the cloth deep into the garbage heap. Then he turned and vanished into the depths of the night.
The night wind was especially cold on his way home.
Ye Qingxuan touched the newly acquired dagger inside his clothes, then weighed the pouch of heavy silver.
He thought back to the fight moments before.
After perfecting the Indestructible Vajra Body, his physical defense and strength had both reached a terrifying level. With that collision alone, an ordinary expert at the first or second Body Refining layer would likely have suffered shattered bones and torn tendons on the spot.
But this cultivation technique was ultimately stronger in defense than offense. If he had not caught his opponent off guard and broken through the situation with brute force, taking down that seasoned bamboo-hatted man through fists and feet alone would have required some effort.
The final two kicks had relied entirely on viciousness and strength far beyond that of ordinary people. If he had practiced some proper leg technique, that first kick might have blown the man's entire head apart, making the second unnecessary.
His gaze pierced the darkness, as though he could see the painting that had just been recorded in his mind.
Locust Throwing Technique.
This hidden-weapon technique was precisely what he needed to make up for his lack of offensive methods, especially his weakness in mid- to long-range attacks.
The night in Linyuan Prefecture was indeed full of dangers—and full of opportunities.
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