Late at night, after taking one look at his sleeping mother, Lin Yin quietly slipped out of the house.
Moonlight lay like frost over the empty, stone-paved streets.
Even near Fist Manor, it seemed hardly anyone was willing to go out at this hour.
Lin Yin wore a black robe, wrapping himself up so thoroughly that not even his face could be seen.
Third Uncle Lin De's words from that day still lingered in his mind. Though Lin Yin didn't know what the Fist Manor required for entry, he needed to prepare some money, no matter what.
He had no intention of touching the five taels of silver his old mother had painstakingly scraped together. That money was needed to keep the Cloth Shop running, and it gave her at least a little security.
He hurried through the alleys, soon making it beyond Langshi Town. Compared with the town's quiet and peace, the villages on its outskirts were rife with undercurrents.
At the foot of Tiger Head Mountain, in a secluded patch of woods.
Lin Yin lay low in the undergrowth. One hand clutched a Black Cloth Bag, and a bow and crossbow wrapped in burlap was strapped to his back.
These were the things he had hidden after taking down Li Sihhu.
But after retrieving them, Lin Yin didn't hurry home. Through the sparse leaves, he could see figures streaking past in the distance.
Flashes of blades and swords, cries of battle ringing out. Before long, the commotion vanished into the vast darkness.
Lin Yin had no idea what had happened. He only stared at the eerily silent woods in the distance, a chill running through him.
The world was growing more and more chaotic.
After making sure there was nothing amiss around him, Lin Yin took off running.
He even put aside the thought of practicing his Stance Skill in the mountains.
Back home, Lin Yin lit a candle and eagerly opened the Black Cloth Bag.
He had taken it from Li Sihhu.
The cloth fell open, and the gleaming silver inside instantly caught Lin Yin's eye.
"Damn... this... there must be over thirty taels here."
His eyes widened. He had suspected Li Sihhu was wealthy, but he hadn't expected the man to carry so much around with him.
Five taels of silver could be more than an ordinary farming family earned in a whole year. So what did thirty taels mean?
How many families had this man driven to ruin?
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Lin Yin's eyes.
Li Sihhu had bullied and exploited his neighbors, and often taken his attendants out to carouse. This money was probably only a part of his ill-gotten wealth.
"I suppose I've done the people a service—robbing the rich to help the poor."
The lingering unease he felt after killing someone ebbed away. Lin Yin put the money away with a clear conscience.
Besides the silver, there was one other thing. Lin Yin stared at it in bewilderment: a humanoid withered vine, its yellow-brown skin covered in wrinkles.
It looked a little like ginseng, and a little like the vines found everywhere in the village.
Lin Yin leaned closer and sniffed. It had a strong, earthy smell.
"What is this?" He frowned.
Neither his memories from his previous life nor those of his original self offered any information about it.
"I'll put it away for now..."
Without any particular thoughts about it, Lin Yin stowed the thing. Then he picked up the Black Cloth Bag from the table and tossed it into the brazier.
The leaping flames cast shifting light across Lin Yin's face.
Though the matter of Li Sihhu was behind him, Lin Yin still felt a deep sense of danger, especially because of the man he had seen last time.
For the first time, Lin Yin had felt an oppressive force so suffocating it was hard to breathe.
"Joining Fist Manor is a must."
Over the next two days, Lin Yin was out by day and in by night.
Langshi Town was fairly peaceful during the day. Meanwhile, Lin Yin secretly tried to find out what had been happening with the Black Scorpion Gang.
The peddlers had little more than rumors to offer, but a few details gave Lin Yin an unexpected lead.
"The authorities are going after the Black Gang? Old man, you're not pulling my leg, are you?"
Lin Yin looked at the vendor in feigned astonishment.
"You brat, if you didn't come by my stall so often, I wouldn't tell you any of this. My son saw it with his own eyes...
"That fellow wasn't anybody important in the Black Scorpion Gang, but he was still a minor leader."
"Old Man Li, the Black Scorpion Gang is so vicious and brutal. Would the people from the Yamen really dare arrest them?"
A trace of disbelief showed on Lin Yin's face.
"Heh... why would I lie to you? They say the Black Scorpion Gang has been too brazen lately, and the Yamen couldn't stomach it anymore."
As he spoke, Old Man Li slammed the butcher's knife in his hand onto the board beside him, then leaned closer and whispered:
"You don't know? The Black Scorpion Gang's slaughter of the hunters has blown up!"
"The Black Scorpion Gang... ambushed hunters?"
Lin Yin's heart stirred.
He recalled what he had seen before. The hunter had clearly said "Hungry Wolf Gang." So how had it become the Black Scorpion Gang?
"Alas, a lot of people died in the village to the east. Now the hunters are banding together. These times..." Old Man Li, the pork vendor, shook his head, looking guarded, and said no more.
Lin Yin wore an unreadable expression and could only hurry away.
Though he didn't know the reason behind it, he knew things were definitely not as simple as Old Man Li made them sound.
The waters were too deep. Better not to get involved.
He buried the matter deep in his mind, went back and forth to the Market, bought some meat, then began practicing in the courtyard behind his little house.
Calling it a courtyard was generous; it was barely larger than a palm. Compared with the neighboring yard, it looked especially shabby.
Without changing expression, Lin Yin picked up the Stone Stake beside him. It was heavy enough to make a grown man blanch, yet he held it steady in his hands.
With his front leg bent and his back leg planted, his movements as he practiced the Vajra Stake Technique were no longer as awkward as before.
He even held the heavy Stone Stake steady between his hands.
Time trickled by. He went through several sets of slow, heavy movements, then set down the Stone Stake and began throwing punches and kicks, their muffled thuds filling the courtyard.
For well over an hour.
[Heaven rewards diligence; Will achieve something] [Vajra Stake Technique: Beginner (80/100)]
A stream of information flashed through his mind. A faint, barely perceptible warmth spread through his limbs and torso. Clearly, Lin Yin's martial cultivation had reached a new level.
He didn't pause for a moment and continued practicing.
As his skill with the Vajra Stake Technique grew, Lin Yin could feel the changes in himself becoming more and more obvious. That mysterious force seemed to grow stronger as well.
Beside the dilapidated little courtyard stood a yard more than ten times the size of Lin Yin's home.
Flowers bloomed in profusion. A pot of steaming tea sat on the stone table beside the courtyard.
Wisps of steam curled from the tea. The middle-aged man sitting beside the table with his eyes closed suddenly opened them, looking momentarily startled as he glanced to one side.
The tall wall stood in stark contrast to the decrepit yard next door. The whooshing sounds of punches and kicks coming from beyond it had caught his attention.
"Father, you heard that too."
Just then, the door of a side room on the courtyard's left swung open, and a girl in a white dress peered out.
Curiously, she studied the tall wall, as if she could see through it to the man practicing his punches and kicks on the other side. His movements made quite a racket.
"His qi and blood are abundant, and his foundation is solid. Looks like we have a promising talent next door."
"Could he be a new junior disciple at the manor?" the girl asked curiously.
"No. Most of them have only just begun their Stance Skill training; they're nowhere near this level. As for your senior brothers, even the weakest are Ming Jin Martial Artists. Their punches and kicks boom like tigers and leopards. This is nothing like that."
The middle-aged man smiled and shook his head. He picked up the pot of steaming tea and continued to sip it, as though the noise were no more than an insignificant interruption.
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