How magnificent was Yu Tu, bold and mighty; its fierce spirit was unlike that of any ordinary beast!
The sudden shift in that young man's bearing transformed him from a gentle scholar into a striped, ferocious tiger, making the spring rain filling the sky seem to freeze and shatter!
The burly man with the red scarf over his mouth immediately felt as though he were suffocating!
He seemed to hear a tiger's roar. The king of beasts stood atop the forest, brows drawn as it gazed down upon all, its howl like thunder. The burly man's head spun.
The youth moved like a Tiger Pounce, slapping aside the fist the man had thrown before following with another palm strike that smashed into his chest. The tremendous force made the burly man's pupils contract. His chest caved in at once, and the sound of breaking ribs burst forth like a string of firecrackers.
His entire body suddenly flew backward even faster than he had charged forward, crashing to the ground. His back scraped against the earth, scattering the rainwater that had pooled there.
In just one move, he had crushed that incomparably vicious burly man to the ground, leaving him unable to move!
The savage grins vanished from the faces of the remaining two men in the alley.
"A cultivator?!"
Their lips trembled. Their shocked, furious voices exploded amid the curtain of spring rain, filled with disbelief!
"That old bastard Liu Qingyan tricked us! Didn't he say he was just an ordinary young painter? How had he become a cultivator?!"
"He had us ordinary thugs kill a cultivator? He was sending us to our deaths?!"
The two men were both shocked and enraged, while an icy despair shrouded their hearts.
The red-scarfed man's miserable wails echoed through the streets and alleys. An Le's tiger-form strike just now had driven his qi and blood into motion, generating force from within. The power it unleashed was more than five times what he had possessed as an ordinary person!
He had nearly slapped the red-scarfed man's heart meridians apart and killed him outright!
Why did cultivators hold such lofty status? Because once one stepped onto the path of cultivation, it was a transformation in quality. Their physique and reaction speed were greatly enhanced. A Body Forging Martial Artist at the Opening Qi and Blood realm possessed enough strength to utterly crush any ordinary burly grown man!
These gang thugs naturally were not cultivators. If they had been cultivators, they would never have fallen so low as to become hired muscle. Setting aside the stipends granted by the imperial court, cultivators' ability to earn money alone meant they would disdain becoming cheap gang thugs.
An Le held his oil-paper umbrella as the spring rain gradually grew more urgent, pelting down like pearls and jade, bouncing across the umbrella's surface. He frowned slightly as he stared at the burly men who had suddenly begun to panic.
"In broad daylight, you actually intended to break the hands of a Juren scholar?"
There was surprise in his heart, anger as well, and a touch of cold disillusionment.
This was also the first time he had realized that beneath the glittering splendor of Lin'an Prefecture lay such filth.
He asked himself whether he had offended anyone. Since coming to Lin'an Prefecture, aside from visiting West Lake to watch the ethereal Female Sword Immortal, the Flower Queen who seemed to drift down from the heavens, he had conducted himself properly and obeyed the law.
Yet why had malicious intent still come for him?
Someone had paid these people to break his hands?
Breaking his hands was the same as severing his future. He would have no chance at the imperial examinations, nor would he be able to paint. His future would be swallowed by darkness!
Who could it be?
Countless questions surged over him like a tide.
Suppressing the doubts in his heart, An Le thought for a moment, then held his umbrella and slowly stepped forward toward the two men in the alley.
Though the two men in the alley were terrified, they had no way out now.
Once they learned that An Le was not only a cultivator but also a Juren scholar recognized by the court, they even wanted to kill Liu Qingyan. Was someone like this really a person they could provoke?
Even if they somehow managed to break An Le's hands, how could they withstand the imperial court's fury afterward?
However, these gang thugs who lived by licking blood from knife edges had no desire to fight An Le to the death. An Le was a cultivator; even if they risked everything, their chances of winning were exceedingly slim. Running was far more practical.
The two burly men scattered and fled. Whoever escaped would leave it to fate.
But An Le had no intention of letting either of them go. He quickened his pace, charging forward with the Tiger Step of the Five Animals Body Forging. Closing in on one of the men, he suddenly folded the oil-paper umbrella in his hand and lightly thrust it out like a stabbing sword. His spiritual power, visualizing the Sword Waterfall Diagram, clung to it, turning the paper umbrella into a sword.
The umbrella struck the man's chest. Force passed through it, making the man's eyes bulge as he coughed blood. His back swelled outward, and a ring of force exploded. His body flew backward and crashed to the ground, stirring up a mess all around him.
Shaking off the water droplets, An Le stood with spring rain draped over his shoulders. His qi and blood circulated, and the heat dried the rainwater from his body, raising a faint white mist.
Facing the other fleeing man, he threw the oil-paper umbrella in his hand.
In an instant!
The whistling oil-paper umbrella became like a flying sword cutting across the air. Empowered by the Sword Dancer Dao Fruit, it carried the force of his qi and blood and directly struck the fleeing thug. The umbrella tip pierced through his flesh and knocked him to the ground.
Three cries of agony rose and fell one after another.
On this day, An Le finally understood the gap between cultivators and ordinary people of the jianghu... it was the distance between an eagle soaring through the nine heavens and an ant that took a tiny square inch as its entire world.
Soaked through by the spring rain, An Le slowly turned around to look at the three burly men and asked again.
"Who sent you?"
Above Drunken Dragon Pavilion.
Liu Qingyan stood dumbstruck. Unable to hold his celadon cup steady, he dropped it onto the table, spilling the expensive Drunken Flowing Clouds all over it.
"A cultivator... This An Le is a cultivator?!"
Every hair on Liu Qingyan's body stood on end.
The information Mr. Luo had given him was wrong!
An Le was a cultivator. Why had such crucial information not been mentioned in the intelligence?!
Had he known An Le was a cultivator, he never would have sent thugs to commit violence. Wouldn't that have been seeking death?!
Or perhaps... all of this had been Mr. Luo's scheme?
"It's over. Mr. Luo has harmed me!"
Liu Qingyan was overwhelmed by grief. Looking at the table full of fine food and wine, he had no appetite whatsoever. Before his eyes lay nothing but a dead end.
After hurriedly paying several dozen taels for the food and wine, he rushed downstairs. He planned to leave Drunken Dragon Pavilion, return to pack his belongings, and flee. Though he could not bear to abandon the foundation he had built over so many years in Lin'an Prefecture, the foundation that had allowed him to live rather comfortably, his life mattered more!
Yet the moment he stepped out of Drunken Dragon Pavilion, a familiar and luxurious carriage was waiting at the entrance.
The curtain lifted, revealing the man's cold face at the carriage window, lofty and aloof.
"Mr. Luo, why did the information you gave me not mention that An Le is a cultivator?!"
The moment he saw Mr. Luo, the pent-up frustration in Liu Qingyan's heart burst forth, sounding almost like an accusation.
Inside the carriage, Mr. Luo's cold face suddenly blossomed with a smile amid the spring rain.
"You failed again."
"Neither matter was accomplished."
Mr. Luo's smile was like a gentle spring day, yet Liu Qingyan felt as though he had fallen into an ice well.
Recalling his accusation, he wished he could slap himself.
What the hell were you? How dare you question Mr. Luo?!
"You sent people to murder a Juren scholar with official rank, and he is even a cultivator. Once the imperial court investigates, you will not escape. Go turn yourself in, and your punishment may be lighter. After all, you were acting for Young Master Qin. He will protect you."
Mr. Luo spoke calmly, then released the curtain, letting it fall.
Had his intelligence been wrong?
In truth, it had not been. He had met An Le once before and sensed that An Le had succeeded in cultivating the spirit and entered Entering Stillness, but...
He had merely entered Entering Stillness and had not yet forged his body. With only the spiritual power of someone newly entered into stillness, if those jianghu thugs had fought with all they had, An Le's hands would still have been broken.
Yet Mr. Luo had never expected that this young man... in a single night, starting from nothing and without any warning, would open his qi and blood and step into the first realm of Body Forging Martial Artists.
Opening qi and blood in a single night was quite rare. His talent was also extraordinary.
He had made a mistake, but it was not a major problem. In fact, Mr. Luo had become even more interested in this young Juren scholar.
Outside the carriage, Liu Qingyan revealed a trace of delight upon hearing those words. Mr. Luo had said that Young Master Qin would protect him?
Then everything was settled. In Lin'an Prefecture, would Young Master Qin's power not make protecting a mere Boat Painter effortless? Even though his hands had been stained with quite a few murder cases before, if Young Master Qin wanted to protect him, it would take only a single sentence.
"Thank you for your guidance, Mr. Luo. This old man will go to the Yamen and turn himself in at once."
Liu Qingyan's expression shifted uncertainly. After considering it for a moment, he gave the carriage a deep bow.
The luxurious carriage remained silent and no longer paid Liu Qingyan any heed.
Liu Qingyan raised his head, rain soaking his beard and hair. His lips moved slightly before he turned and slowly headed toward the Yamen. After taking several steps, he suddenly began to run, faster and faster, his direction veering slightly away.
Young Master Qin would protect him?
Who was he trying to fool?!
Did Mr. Luo himself believe those words?
Liu Qingyan did not. He had to flee! If he escaped Lin'an Prefecture and concealed his name and identity, he could survive!
Along the long street, the disheveled old painter ran madly, his feet splashing ceaselessly through the pooled rainwater.
Smack!
A sudden dull sound rang out.
The old painter's body was abruptly separated from his head. A head flew high into the air, blood spraying out and intertwining with the spring rain like an ink-wash landscape splashed across paper.
The spring rain fell in a fine, dense curtain.
Before Drunken Dragon Pavilion.
The carriage stood still. A breeze carrying rain lifted the curtain slightly, revealing a figure seated within, a small sword floating in his palm, returning with blood upon it.
After a long while.
The carriage wheels crushed the pooled water between the cracks of the bluestone road and slowly began to move, heading toward Quiet Street.
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