The Gap Between Cultivators and Those in the Jianghu

Magnificent Yu Tu, fierce and bold, his savage spirit unlike any common beast!

The sudden shift in the young man's aura, from a gentle scholar to a striped tiger, caused the spring rain to seem to freeze and shatter!

The burly man with the red cloth over his mouth felt a suffocating pressure in his chest.

He seemed to hear a tiger's roar, the king of beasts standing atop the forest ridge, brows furrowed in disdain, its roar like thunder, leaving the man dizzy and disoriented.

The young man moved like a tiger pouncing, slapping aside the fist swung at him, then following up with a palm strike to the chest. A tremendous force made the burly man's pupils contract, his chest instantly caving in, ribs cracking like a string of bursting beads.

His entire body shot backward faster than he had charged in, crashing to the ground, his back scraping against the pavement, splashing through the accumulated spring rain.

One move, and the ferocious burly man was down, unable to move!

In the alley, the remaining two burly men's grins vanished.

"A cultivator?!"

Their lips stammered, voices filled with shock and fury exploding amidst the curtain of rain.

"That old bastard Liu Qingyan set us up! Didn't he say it was just an ordinary young painter? How is he a cultivator?!"

"He sent us common thugs to kill a cultivator? Is he trying to get us killed?!"

The two men were a mix of shock and rage, a chill of despair settling over their hearts.

In the alley, the red-clothed man's wails echoed miserably. That move of An Le's, the Tiger Style, had circulated his Qi and blood, generating strength, unleashing power over five times that of an ordinary man!

It had nearly slapped the red-clothed man's heart to death!

Why were cultivators held in such high esteem? Because once one stepped onto the path of cultivation, it was a qualitative transformation. Physique, reaction speed—all vastly improved. A Body Forging Martial Artist at the Opening Qi and Blood realm could easily overpower any ordinary strongman!

These gang thugs were naturally not cultivators. If they were, they wouldn't be reduced to thugs. Setting aside the government subsidies, a cultivator's earning power alone made them disdain cheap gang work.

An Le held his oil-paper umbrella as the spring rain grew heavier, pounding like pearls bouncing off the canopy. He frowned slightly, staring at the suddenly panicked men before him.

"In broad daylight, you were going to break a Juren scholar's hands?"

Surprise and anger stirred within him, along with a touch of chill.

For the first time, he felt that beneath the glamorous surface of Lin'an Prefecture lay such filth.

He hadn't offended anyone, as far as he knew. Since arriving in Lin'an, aside from going to West Lake to watch the Female Sword Immortal Flower Queen's ethereal descent, he had been nothing but proper and law-abiding.

So why had malice come for him?

Someone had paid these men to break his hands?

Breaking his hands meant cutting off his future—no chance at the imperial exams, no ability to paint. His future would be plunged into darkness!

Who could it be?

Countless doubts flooded over him like a tide.

Pushing aside his confusion, An Le thought for a moment, then stepped forward slowly under his umbrella, heading toward the two men in the alley.

The two in the alley, though terrified, had no retreat.

When they learned An Le was not only a cultivator but also a Juren scholar, they wanted to kill Liu Qingyan themselves. How could they afford to mess with someone like this?

Even if they somehow managed to break An Le's hands, how would they handle the government's wrath?

But these gang thugs, who lived on the edge, had lost any will to fight An Le. He was a cultivator; their chances of winning in a desperate struggle were slim. Better to just run.

The two men split up and fled, each to his own fate.

An Le had no intention of letting either escape. He quickened his pace, charging forward with the Tiger Step of the Five Animals Body Forging, closing in on one man. He folded his oil-paper umbrella, thrusting it lightly like a sword, his mind visualizing the Sword Waterfall Diagram, the umbrella becoming a blade.

The umbrella struck the man's chest, transferring force, making him gasp and spit blood, his back bulging as a ring of energy exploded, sending him flying to land in a mess.

Shaking off the water, the spring rain drenching his shoulders, An Le circulated his Qi and blood, the heat steaming the rain dry, a faint white mist rising.

Facing the other fleeing man, he hurled his oil-paper umbrella.

In an instant!

The umbrella shot out like a flying sword, empowered by the Sword Dancer Dao Fruit, carrying the force of his Qi and blood. It struck the fleeing thug directly, the tip piercing his flesh, sending him crashing to the ground.

Three cries of agony rose and fell.

That day, An Le finally understood the gap between a cultivator and an ordinary martial artist... like the distance between a soaring eagle and an ant confined to a square inch of earth.

Soaked by the spring rain, An Le turned slowly, looking at the three men, and asked again.

"Who sent you?"

At the Drunken Dragon Pavilion.

Liu Qingyan stood frozen, the celadon cup slipping from his grasp, clattering onto the table, spilling the expensive Drunken Flowing Clouds across the surface.

"A cultivator... This An Le is a cultivator?!"

Liu Qingyan's hairs stood on end.

Mr. Luo's intelligence was wrong!

An Le is a cultivator—such crucial information, why wasn't it mentioned in the intelligence?!

If he had known An Le was a cultivator, he would never have dared to send thugs to attack him. Wasn't that just asking for death?!

Or... was all of this Mr. Luo's scheme?

"It's over. Mr. Luo has ruined me!"

Liu Qingyan was utterly despondent. He looked at the table full of fine food and wine, but couldn't eat or drink a single bite. All he saw before him was a dead end.

Hastily settling the bill for several dozen taels of food and drink, he hurried downstairs, intending to leave the Drunken Dragon Pavilion, go back to pack his bags, and flee. Though he was reluctant to abandon the foundation he had painstakingly built over so many years in Lin'an Prefecture, which had allowed him to live quite comfortably, his life was still more important!

However, just as he stepped out of the Drunken Dragon Pavilion, a familiar and luxurious carriage stopped at the entrance.

The curtain was lifted, and at the carriage window, a man's cold, aloof face appeared, looking down from on high.

"Mr. Luo, why didn't your intelligence mention that this An Le is a cultivator?!"

Seeing Mr. Luo, Liu Qingyan's pent-up frustration burst out, almost as if he were interrogating him.

In the carriage, Mr. Luo's cold face suddenly bloomed with a hint of a smile in the spring rain.

"You've messed up again."

"Two tasks, and you failed at both."

Mr. Luo's smile was as warm as a spring day, but Liu Qingyan felt as if he had fallen into an icy well.

Recalling his own questioning, he wished he could slap himself.

Who do you think you are? How dare you question Mr. Luo?!

"You sent men to assassinate a Juren scholar with a title, and a cultivator at that. Once the court investigates, you won't escape. Turn yourself in voluntarily, and you might get a lighter sentence. After all, you were working for Young Master Qin, so they'll protect you."

Mr. Luo said calmly, then let go, and the curtain fell.

Was his intelligence wrong?

Actually, no. He had met An Le once before and sensed that An Le had succeeded in Spirit Refining and stepped into Entering Stillness, but...

It was only Entering Stillness, without Body Forging. With just the Spiritual power of a newly entered state, if the thugs had fought to the death, An Le would still have ended up with broken arms.

But Mr. Luo hadn't expected that this youth... in One Night's Time, starting from nothing and without any warning, would open his Qi and Blood and step into the first realm of a Body Forging Martial Artist.

Opening Qi and Blood in one night was quite rare, and his talent was extraordinary.

He had made a mistake, but it wasn't a big deal. In fact, Mr. Luo was becoming even more interested in this young Juren scholar.

Liu Qingyan, standing outside the carriage, heard this and a glimmer of joy appeared on his face. Mr. Luo said Young Master Qin would protect him?

Then it was settled. In Lin'an Prefecture, Young Master Qin's influence could easily protect him, a Boat Painter, right? Even if he had many murder cases on his hands, for Young Master Qin to protect him was just a matter of a single word.

"Thank you for your guidance, Mr. Luo. This old man will go to the Yamen to turn himself in now."

Liu Qingyan's expression flickered uncertainly. After thinking for a moment, he bowed deeply to the carriage.

The luxurious carriage remained silent, no longer paying any attention to Liu Qingyan.

Liu Qingyan raised his head, rain soaking his beard and hair. His Lips Murmured, then he turned and walked slowly toward the Yamen. After a few steps, he began to run, his pace quickening, and his direction veering slightly.

Young Master Qin would protect him?

Who was he kidding?!

Did you, Mr. Luo, believe that?

Liu Qingyan didn't. He had to escape! Flee Lin'an Prefecture, go into hiding, and he could live!

On the long street, the disheveled old painter ran wildly, the sound of his feet splashing through puddles echoing continuously.

Slap!

A sudden Muffled Sound.

The old painter's body was abruptly severed at the neck. His head flew high into the air, accompanied by spurting blood that mingled with the spring rain, like a splash of ink on a landscape painting.

The spring rain fell steadily.

In front of the Drunken Dragon Pavilion.

The carriage stood still. A gust of wind carrying rain lifted the curtain slightly, revealing a figure seated inside, a small sword stained with blood floating in his palm.

A long time passed.

The carriage wheels crushed the water in the gaps between the blue bricks, slowly moving off toward Quiet Street.

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