Entering the Ranks

"Dan Wenlong was a notorious bandit who had once been active around Ye Liang Lake. Later, after killing a Noble Family scion, he was hunted down and fled here. Lao Fang and the others finally caught his trail some time ago, but even after leading men to surround him, they still let him escape. Brother Zhong, you must be careful. If necessary, stay in the yamen. No one knows whether he will seek revenge on you."

As he spoke, Lao Liu from the archives room took out Dan Wenlong's case file. It recorded some of the crimes he had committed over the years.

"How strong is he? What is his cultivation?"

"He is at the Seventh-Rank Bone Forging Realm. The martial art he cultivates is the Red Snake Leg. This martial art focuses on leg techniques. Once mastered, the body stands like a pine and the legs move like snakes. While walking, the body moves but the heart remains still. It excels at leaping, shifting through the air, and long-distance running. That is why he was able to escape Lao Fang and the others' pursuit," Lao Liu explained.

Zhong Lin reached out to take the case file and examined it carefully. From its descriptions, he could see that Dan Wenlong was ruthless and vicious, repaying every slight with vengeance. He was skilled with a Fish Intestine Dagger, and paired with the techniques of his Red Snake Leg, he was practically unstoppable. This was also the main reason he had managed to escape pursuit.

After reading the file, Zhong Lin's expression darkened further. Seventh-Rank Bone Forging Realm.

By now, Zhong Lin was no longer an ignorant novice. He had long since gained a thorough understanding of the lower three ranks of the Martial Path Ninth Rank.

Ninth Rank, Skin Grinding. At this realm, one possessed three hundred jin of strength, with skin like leather armor that arrows could not pierce.

Eighth Rank, Tendon Changing. One possessed five hundred jin of strength, with powerful tendons and fascia that could stretch and contract, fierce explosive force, and an agile body.

Seventh Rank, Bone Forging. One possessed a thousand jin of strength, with bones like refined steel and boundless power.

Zhong Lin had cultivated the Iron Mountain Skill for barely half a month. Even with the System's aid, and despite drinking Eight Treasures Blood Nourishing Soup without interruption every day, he had only just reached the threshold of Skin Grinding.

Facing a Bone Forging Realm expert with a thousand jin of strength would be like striking a stone with an egg. The only thing he could do was flee for his life.

"You needn't worry too much either. Dan Wenlong is nothing more than a startled bird now. He has probably already fled Black Mountain County, and the chances of him retaliating against you are minuscule. Not everyone is as unlucky as Zhu Yu."

The Zhu Yu Lao Liu spoke of was Zhong Lin's predecessor—the painter whose entire family had been slaughtered by an escaped criminal.

A strained smile appeared on Zhong Lin's face. "Don't worry. I still care greatly about this little life of mine."

After returning the case file, Zhong Lin turned and left the archives room.

"Brother Zhong, help a man in urgent need! There's an emergency at home—lend me two taels of silver to tide me over."

The moment he rounded the corner, he encountered Chi Yan, who had been sitting bored out of his mind on a stone bench. Chi Yan immediately sprang up to meet him.

Zhong Lin frowned slightly. "Brother Chi, it seems you still haven't repaid the five taels from last time, or the three taels from the time before that?"

"Isn't it because my pockets are empty?" Chi Yan said casually. "Lend me another two taels. Next time—next time I'll definitely repay you."

"Sorry. I don't have any."

When Zhong Lin had first joined the yamen, he had wanted to become acquainted with Chi Yan. Yet he had never expected the man to be a gambler. The moment his salary came in, he offered every last coin to the gambling house. When he ran out of money, he borrowed. At first, people had still lent to him, but they eventually discovered that he borrowed without repaying, his character rotten to the extreme. After that, no one paid him any heed.

Zhong Lin had lent him eight taels of silver in total. It had vanished like a stone sinking into the sea; Chi Yan had never once mentioned repayment. Now he had come to borrow money again. No matter how good Zhong Lin's temper was, he could not be bothered to give him a pleasant face.

Hearing Zhong Lin refuse so decisively, Chi Yan's expression darkened as well.

"Brother Zhong, don't be so heartless! I said I'd definitely pay you back. You sell a single painting for four or five taels of silver—you're not short of this little bit of money."

Chi Yan's shameless words angered Zhong Lin so much that he laughed. Too lazy to waste another word on him, he turned and left.

Watching Zhong Lin's retreating figure, Chi Yan's face twisted, his eyes filled with dangerous coldness.

"Damn it. A mere painter dares put on airs before me. Does he really think I don't dare touch him?"

With Dan Wenlong's matter weighing on him, along with that idiot Chi Yan, Zhong Lin had no mood to remain below any longer and went straight home.

"A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall. No one knows whether Dan Wenlong will retaliate against me. I must prepare early, in case of need."

"Staying in the County Yamen is one way, but it would always be inconvenient with Little Shi in tow. Besides, one may be a thief for a thousand days, but who can guard against a thief for a thousand days? I can't live in the County Yamen for the rest of my life if Dan Wenlong is never caught, can I?"

After thinking for a while, Zhong Lin changed course and headed to West Market. He entered a blacksmith's shop, and before long, returned carrying a bundle in his hand. He then went to a pharmacy and bought several packets of Eight Treasures Blood Nourishing Soup before finally returning home.

"Second Brother, what are we doing?"

Little Shi watched in confusion as Zhong Lin used an iron shovel to dig up the floor inside the house. Though puzzled, he obediently used a bamboo basket to carry the excavated dirt outside like an ant moving house.

"Digging a cellar, in case of need. Pile the dirt in the corner of the courtyard. When it gets dark, I'll find a way to move it out," Zhong Lin said without turning around.

"Oh!"

A cellar could not be finished in a short while. After digging for an hour, he stopped, for he had something more important to do.

He mixed a packet of Eight Treasures Blood Nourishing Soup with boiling water. But this time, instead of using one-third of a packet, he directly poured in half.

Once the medicinal powder had fully dissolved, he drank it in one gulp. A fiercer, more burning current than usual rose from his abdomen.

Without the slightest hesitation, Zhong Lin darted into the courtyard. His fists and legs unfolded, his breathing shook, and he practiced his punches with greater frenzy than before.

With every tremor of his breath, Zhong Lin could feel his blood coursing through his skin. His skin itself tingled, went numb, and itched. At that moment, he felt as though his body had been wrapped in a layer of film, an intensely uncomfortable sensation that made him want to tear it apart viciously.

Zhong Lin knew this was a sign that he was about to enter the ranks. He had cultivated the Iron Mountain Skill for a full half month, and at last, his accumulated efforts were bursting forth.

Suddenly, Zhong Lin felt a stream of cool air trickle through his entire body. Wherever it passed, his skin broke out in an itch. The sensation was like taking a cold bath in the height of summer—cool but not cold, with his whole body itching as though someone were tickling him with a feather.

In fewer than ten breaths, that cool current vanished. Zhong Lin stopped moving and stood where he was with his eyes closed, sensing the changes throughout his body.

"This feeling of strength... is this what it means to enter the ranks?"

Zhong Lin stretched lazily and felt that his strength had increased considerably.

He reached out, grabbed one edge of the millstone in the corner, and exerted force. With a sudden lift, he raised the millstone one-handed.

"Just as expected. A Ninth-Rank martial artist possesses three hundred jin of strength. This millstone weighs roughly two hundred jin, yet I can now lift it easily with one arm."

After setting down the millstone, Zhong Lin went into the kitchen and picked up a kitchen knife. He lightly drew it across his arm.

The blade passed over his skin, leaving only a red mark. He then increased his force, and only after using thirty percent of his strength did he barely cut through the skin. Moreover, as he drew the blade across his arm, Zhong Lin felt as though the knife were cutting through cowhide—his skin was extraordinarily tough.