There were no strict requirements for practicing martial arts at Mad Saber Martial Arts School. You could train if you wanted to;
if you didn't feel like it, or got tired, you could go out and have fun, but you had to let the instructors know, and your tuition had to be paid in full.
To avoid standing out and drawing attention, Zhao Han picked up a wooden saber and began clumsily practicing Mad Saber Nine Forms in a corner.
When morning practice ended, many people left, heading out in groups of three or five to get breakfast.
Zhao Han went with them. At a noodle stall near the school, he ordered a bowl of five-copper Saosao Noodles and wolfed it down.
Quite a few people nearby were eating, too.
"Did you hear? A boss from Poison Snake Gang's Poison Dragon Hall named Wang Bao was killed by his own men. The gang's issuing wanted notices everywhere now."
"Apparently a Skin Refining Warrior did it. They're offering five taels of silver for reliable information."
"If you can kill the culprit, you'll get a reward of twenty taels of silver."
Zhao Han slowed down at that and pricked up his ears to listen.
"That's it? Who the hell would risk their life for such a measly sum?"
"He was only a minor boss, after all. Poison Snake Gang wouldn't make a huge fuss over him. The money's probably coming from Poison Dragon Hall."
Zhao Han ate in silence, thinking:
I'll be at the Muscle Refining Realm soon. Offering that little to hunt down a Muscle Refining Realm expert? They're dreaming.
After finishing his noodles, Zhao Han bought a bamboo hat from a nearby stall and put it on.
Then he headed for the notice board nearby.
The notice board was where people paid the Blackwater County Yamen to post various announcements.
Wanted notices, job openings, missing-person notices, and the like.
By the time Zhao Han arrived, the board was surrounded by people pointing and commenting.
Zhao Han's looks were nothing special, but he was tall—one meter seventy-eight—which counted as tall in this world.
Even standing outside the crowd, he could read the notices.
"With an artist like this drawing the portrait, catching anyone would take a miracle."
When he saw the wanted poster, Zhao Han nearly burst out laughing.
Even someone who'd only taken a few painting lessons in modern times couldn't possibly draw a person this badly.
The wanted notice showed an unbelievably ugly, twisted-looking man who seemed as if his kidneys had been drained dry.
Either way, there was no chance that portrait could lead back to him.
No wonder nobody had paid him any attention while he was eating. His real face was so utterly ordinary, nowhere near as memorable as the one on the wanted poster.
"That ugly mug really is hideous. He looks like a notorious bandit."
"He's just a member of Poison Snake Gang. What notorious bandit? Though he is pretty ugly."
"Someone that ugly should be easy to find. Come on, let's look around. Maybe we'll spot him."
The crowd bustled and chattered, but Zhao Han had already taken off his bamboo hat and walked away.
He strolled openly down the street. Not a single person looked twice; nobody paid him any attention.
His face was so plain that anyone who saw it would forget it at once.
He made it safely into an alley near the martial arts school.
At a deserted spot, somewhat run-down and filthy, Zhao Han took a deep breath and began practicing his fist technique.
Five minutes later, his proficiency had reached 990 points.
"I'll rest a little longer, then keep training."
Zhao Han glanced around and spotted an abandoned residence with a rather high wall. His eyes lit up.
He backed up a few steps, then sprinted forward, leaped, grabbed the abandoned wall, and vaulted over it.
He swept his gaze around. The abandoned estate was fairly large, and it looked like it had once belonged to a wealthy family.
Unfortunately, it had fallen into disrepair—or perhaps something had happened—and was now completely deserted. Weeds covered the ground.
Only a large locust tree remained alive, standing in the courtyard.
"This place will make a great secret training spot." Zhao Han smiled with satisfaction.
He found a rock to sit on, then took dried meat and water from the System Space to eat and drink, replenishing the energy he'd just spent.
Time passed. After resting for a little over an hour, Zhao Han got up and resumed his fist training.
Boom!
With the final strike of the last set of Black Wolf Fist, a mighty aura surged uncontrollably from Zhao Han. The weeds swayed wildly as the force of his qi swept over them.
A thousand repetitions—finally done!
Black Wolf Fist had reached mastery, its highest level.
Realm: Muscle Refining
Black Wolf Fist [Simplified, Unclassified, Mastered]
At the same time, Zhao Han's Martial Way cultivation broke through to the Muscle Refining Realm. Aside from the powerful aura he now exuded, his physical attributes—his physique, strength, reflexes, and more—had all increased considerably.
Every movement of his hands and feet carried tremendous force. If he didn't rein himself in, he could crush the weaker with the sheer pressure of his presence.
"So this is the Muscle Refining Realm? It's incredible. I feel like I could take on ten men." Zhao Han ran a hand over his skin and smiled confidently.
Skin Refining meant training the skin until it was as tough as cowhide.
Muscle Refining meant training the flesh until it was as hard as iron.
The Muscle Refining Realm and the Skin Refining Realm were worlds apart.
"Feels great!"
He stretched, and his whole body crackled like beans popping in a pan.
He'd been reborn anew!
"Now that Black Wolf Fist is mastered, I can try killing a python and mastering Snake-Style Deft Hand, too."
"Or I could pay someone to catch a python for me, then kill it myself."
"Besides, I need to find a stronger Classified martial art to keep improving—or save up One Hundred Taels of Silver..."
Zhao Han suddenly looked toward the Shanyin Art stored in the System Space.
It was a lower-grade technique, a whole rank above Classified martial arts.
And it belonged to a different cultivation system—the Ghostly Path. In every way, it seemed stranger than martial arts.
"Too bad simplifying a lower-grade technique costs One Hundred Taels of Silver. That's a huge sum, and I honestly have no idea where to get it for now."
With a sigh, Zhao Han prepared to leave and return to the school for lunch.
"Hmm, is someone talking?"
He'd only taken a couple of steps and was about to climb over the wall when he heard people speaking in the alley. He immediately stopped and listened carefully.
A deep, steady male voice said:
"Junior Sister Yu, didn't you want to see Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave? It took a great deal of effort to get a copy from Senior Brother through a deal. I paid a steep price for it."
"Please. It's just some lousy Classified saber technique. Do you really think my family doesn't have one?" Junior Sister Yu replied, her voice rather sharp.
"Heh, Junior Sister Yu, let's not beat around the bush. You came to Mad Saber Martial Arts School to learn Mad Saber Nine Forms. Your real goal is Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave, isn't it? Mad Saber Nine Forms and Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave are—"
"You'd better watch what you say. Do you really think I wouldn't dare kill you?" Junior Sister Yu cut him off at once, as if he'd stepped on her tail.
"Fine, I'll stop. But what about Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave? Do you want it or not?"
The man looked perfectly calm, as if he had Junior Sister Yu completely in his grasp.
Junior Sister Yu gave a little ground and said:
"Of course... I want it. Just tell me what you want. Money, or a Classified martial art from my Yu Family?"
The man scoffed. "Heh, Junior Sister Yu, talking about money is so vulgar. Money is the one thing we martial artists need least."
Listening from the other side of the wall, Zhao Han silently protested: I'm very short on money!
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