First Entry into Ninth Rank

Ye Yun stood up, his robes stirring without a breeze. A restrained brilliance gathered in his eyes, and his entire demeanor sharpened—a stark contrast to the sickly air he'd carried before.

His gaze settled on the stone locks in the courtyard, tools meant for building strength.

From the original body's memories, this physique had been tempered for years, easily lifting three-hundred-jin stone locks and straining to hoist five hundred jin at full effort.

Ye Yun walked over to the stone locks and eyed the largest one. Gripping it with both hands, he drove his legs with sudden force and raised it overhead with ease. He held it for a few seconds, then set it down slowly, a lingering sense of unfulfilled energy in his chest.

The previous body could never have lifted this stone lock—it must have weighed eight hundred jin.

But today, he'd raised it effortlessly. Ye Yun calculated silently, estimating his current strength could handle a thousand jin.

Drawing on the original body's memories, lifting a thousand jin was within the realm of body refiners, freakish prodigies, or Ninth Rank martial artists.

Ye Yun turned to the weapon rack and grabbed a blade at random. It was a steel saber, shaped like an ox's tail, covered in rust spots, with an unsharpened edge—a plain training weapon.

Holding the saber in one hand, he slowly closed his eyes, recalling the Po Yue Dao Technique.

Then he murmured, "Po Yue Saber Technique, First Form: Ripping Silk." The blade sang as it rose, a sound like tearing brocade, seizing the opponent's spirit—the saber followed the sound.

Leaves on a branch ahead were stripped away by the saber aura, even though Ye Yun stood several zhang away.

Though he'd merged with the original body's memories, he'd never personally felt this sensation of saber aura leaving his body. If his strength were greater, he'd have cut through the trunk, not just the leaves.

This was far more vivid than the special effects in wuxia novels or xianxia TV shows. Ye Yun steadied himself—his martial path had truly just begun.

Uncle Fu heard the noise from the courtyard and stepped out of the kitchen. He glanced at the branches and frowned. "There's no strong wind—how'd so many leaves fall?" He didn't notice how cleanly the leaf ends were severed, clearly cut.

"Young Master Yun, the meal's ready. Time to eat," Uncle Fu said warmly, then turned back to bring out two small dishes and a bowl of porridge.

Ye Yun hadn't eaten properly in days, and now a fierce hunger hit him. He wolfed down a few bites to ease it.

The two finished lunch quickly, and Uncle Fu began cleaning up. Ye Yun sat on a stone stool in the courtyard and started cultivating, feeling the Essence Qi of heaven and earth as it washed through his meridians again and again.

After several full cycles, Ye Yun sensed he was just one step away from a new realm.

He pressed on, absorbing more Essence Qi. Soon, a faint thud sounded within him, and his body felt like a sluice gate opening—Essence Qi surged through him, scouring his entire frame. This was the Ninth Rank.

Ye Yun felt his blood flow like liquid mercury, his skin tough as leather, his spirit and energy elevated to a new level. His injuries had fully healed.

After two days of cultivation, Ye Yun had stabilized his Ninth Rank realm. Since his talent awakened, his progress felt like a thousand li in a single day.

He could now easily lift the eight-hundred-jin stone lock in the courtyard, using only forty to fifty percent of his strength. He estimated his current power at around eighteen hundred jin.

From the original body's memories, Captain Chen Qingzhou was a Ninth Rank martial artist, in his forties, who'd reached that level over a decade ago. His strength was likely around seventeen hundred jin. Ye Yun had the edge.

After two days of rest, Ye Yun returned to the County Yamen. Though his injuries had been severe and the office had told him to rest, he couldn't sit still.

As he approached the County Yamen today, he felt the oppressive atmosphere. The recent bandit hunt had been a disaster—several dead or wounded—and the grief still hung over everyone.

He ran into a constable, Yan Xiao Liu, a few years older than Ye Yun with decent martial talent, said to be just shy of entering the ranks. Ye Yun greeted him. Yan Xiao Liu spotted him and asked skeptically, "You're healed, kid?"

After all, on that bandit hunt, Ye Yun had been gravely wounded, barely clinging to life—Yan Xiao Liu had carried him back himself. Seeing him fully recovered in just a few days was shocking.

"Sixth Brother, I'm young, so I heal fast. I feel fine now, so I came back on duty," Ye Yun said. Just then, Captain Chen Qingzhou hurried toward them, looking rushed.

Chen Qingzhou shot Ye Yun a surprised glance, also stunned by his recovery—he'd been at death's door days ago.

"Captain, you look in a hurry. Something happen?" Yan Xiao Liu asked bluntly.

"Follow me. I'll explain on the way," Chen Qingzhou said, picking up the pace.

It turned out that early that morning, someone had reported a village a few li away had been massacred.

Soon, they arrived at the ravaged village. Broken walls, corpses everywhere—not a single survivor. The scene was chilling.

Someone had already been sent to check nearby villages for leads.

Ye Yun carefully examined the site. The ground was a mess. Based on footprints and hoofprints, the attackers numbered at least a few dozen. The wounds on the bodies were all clean kills—one cut each. Ruthless.

A quick analysis pointed to a band of mountain bandits. Soon, the scout returned, saying someone from a neighboring village had spotted a gang of bandits attacking from a distance.

They looked like the bandits from Woniu Mountain.

"Those bastards, they're inhuman," Yan Xiao Liu spat angrily.

"Right. They've gotten bolder. Word is a new Second-in-Command joined recently, and the whole stronghold's power surged. They've been raiding everywhere—merchant caravans won't even go near that road. But this time, they massacred a village," Chen Qingzhou said, fury in his voice.

"Still, their good days are numbered," he added, lowering his voice.

Ye Yun and Yan Xiao Liu exchanged curious glances.

It turned out the bandits had recently plundered a caravan backed by a Big Shot. That incident had displeased the Big Shot, who'd pressured the local authorities to wipe out the bandits.

"With just us, can we take them down?" Yan Xiao Liu asked doubtfully.

"Not just us. Word is, local garrison troops will be deployed. These bandits have gotten too bold—it's time they paid. We'll probably just assist from the sidelines, not take the lead," Chen Qingzhou speculated.

So that was it. Ye Yun and the others finished their scene investigation and returned to report.