Ambush

The improvement in the Dragon-Subduing Stake Technique lifted Chen Mo's spirits and banished his fatigue.

Now that he was free of outside distractions, he could focus on honing and refining his techniques.

People moved to and fro around him, rushing about to make a living, while Chen Mo never budged, steady as an old fisherman.

Red-hot iron rods were pulled out one by one, then hammered, quenched, clamped, and ground until they became serviceable weapons. The process also steadily advanced Chen Mo's Fuhu Fist and Dragon-Subduing Stake Technique.

He discovered that he could direct his thoughts to choose whether grinding the crude iron would improve his Fuhu Fist or his Dragon-Subduing Stake Technique.

Immersed in his work, he lost track of time until the sun was already dipping west.

The laborers around him gradually left. Zhang Cai glanced at Chen Mo several times, seeming to want to go over and greet him, but after a moment's thought, he gave up.

For several days in a row, Chen Mo went to the martial hall in the morning to practice his stances and punches, then to the Iron Furnace Room in the afternoon to grind and temper iron. His life followed a simple, three-point routine.

To provide Chen Mo with more nourishing food, Chen Lan carefully "allocated" the remaining copper coins. More than half went toward meat, though that was only enough for two or three days. She herself barely managed to put something in her stomach.

On the fifth day,

a clear chime rang in Chen Mo's mind, and his Fuhu Fist finally reached the entry level.

Several details in the fist technique that he had never noticed before now stood out with startling clarity, as if branded into his mind, never to be forgotten.

Chen Mo estimated that incorporating these details into his punches would increase the technique's power by nearly twenty percent. In actual combat, even the smallest difference could decide victory or defeat—let alone a gap of nearly twenty percent.

That was the benefit of the increased Comprehension brought by Mountain and Water Cultivation!

He considered the matter in secret. If reaching the entry level already brought such results, perhaps there were still the minor mastery, major mastery, and perfection stages ahead—and maybe even some wondrous transformation. His heart brimmed with anticipation.

Chen Mo could now stand steadily on the Plum Blossom Stakes while performing Stone-Crushing Strike. His Wave-Intercepting Style had improved considerably, and he had even begun practicing its third move, Sand-Raising Style.

As for the Dragon-Subduing Stake Technique, his Comprehension had already reached 18 points, but it would still be some time before he reached the entry level.

Every day, the senior disciples in the martial hall discussed current events in Black River Town and even Anyang County. For instance, the Hansha Gang and Black Tiger Hall had recently fallen out. The Hansha Gang had the Zhao Family backing them, so they weren't afraid of Black Tiger Hall.

Another piece of news was that the Zhao Family and the Wu Family would come to Tianqing Martial Hall in a few days to hire martial artists for temporary positions. Any disciple who had reached Ming Jin could apply.

Chen Mo listened from the side and quietly committed these matters, which concerned him, to memory.

Ji Chang noticed Chen Mo practicing alone. "Little junior brother, once you break through to Ming Jin, you can take a temporary post outside and get a taste of the wider martial world."

Chen Mo smiled. "You're giving me too much credit, senior brother. I've still got a long way to go."

Not far away, the hall master's daughter, Yin Shanshan, cast them a glance, as if she thought Ji Chang's words were rather unnecessary. "Even our eldest senior brother, who broke through to Ming Jin the fastest, took two months."

Ji Chang teased her. "Junior sister, you're wonderful in every way, but you can't go a single sentence without mentioning eldest senior brother."

Laughter rippled through the martial hall. Yin Shanshan lowered her head with a radiant smile, dimples appearing in her cheeks, as if they could hold two cups of fine wine.

Chen Mo continued practicing his punches, turning over the words "the Hansha Gang and Black Tiger Hall have recently fallen out" in his mind as his thoughts drifted.

As far as he knew, Huang E of Black Tiger Hall went to Hua Pavilion for drinks on the fifth day of every month. After getting pleasantly tipsy, he would return along a deserted path in the north of town.

Today was the fifth.

Huang E had coveted Chen Lan for a long time, and she was always extremely cautious, not daring to offend him in the slightest. Even now that Chen Mo had joined the martial hall, the danger had not passed.

What was more, Huang E had insulted Chen Lan repeatedly in the past, and Chen Mo had carved every slight into his heart, never forgetting a single one.

Besides, he needed plenty of nourishing food now, and that took money. Where could he get it? Huang E was a low-ranking thug who collected tribute grain; he was bound to have plenty of loot on him...

Chen Mo's Fuhu Fist had reached minor mastery, while Huang E had yet to break through to Ming Jin and would be drunk and dazed. With those odds in his favor, Chen Mo had a seventy- to eighty-percent chance of a successful ambush.

At that thought,

Chen Mo suddenly drove power through his right fist. A gust of force burst outward with a crisp crack.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The people who had been deep in discussion suddenly fell silent. Their gazes searched the martial hall before settling, in surprise, on Chen Mo.

Dusk spilled over the town like ink, spreading across its streets.

Around midnight, Chen Mo was already lying in wait on a narrow path in the north of town. He stood behind a broken wall, bent slightly forward, his body perfectly concealed in its shadow.

In the night and thin mist, the path was hazy; not a trace could be seen.

Several days earlier, he had already studied the surroundings: where the path narrowed and made a good spot for an ambush, where it opened up enough for a fight, and where he could escape if he proved outmatched. He had familiarized himself with every detail.

Everything was for tonight.

After waiting for about half an hour, a figure appeared at the far end of his field of vision, swaying as he slowly approached. Chen Mo recognized him at once. It was indeed Huang E.

He crouched like a cat, his left hand gripping a handy stone from the wall so he could use it to propel himself forward. His right hand formed a fist, and his breathing began to quicken.

Huang E swayed along, still lost in the fragrant embrace of fine wine. Suddenly, he shivered and looked around. But years of brazen impunity had left him with no suspicion.

Just as Huang E turned his back, a figure shot out from behind the wall, slicing through the thin mist. A fist shot forward with a whooshing crack.

In that instant, most of Huang E's drunkenness vanished. He pivoted on his feet, turning halfway around as he threw a punch of his own, trying to catch Chen Mo's incoming blow.

But Huang E's punch was only halfway there when Stone-Crushing Strike, launched first, loomed large in his vision.

Chen Mo's punch wasn't aimed at his face. It was aimed at the artery in his neck!

In a flash, the force of Chen Mo's punch crashed into Huang E's neck, sinking in more than half a fist's depth. Chen Mo clearly felt his fist strike the bones in his neck, followed by a faint cracking sound.

"Crack."

Stone-Crushing Strike blurred most of Huang E's vision. Agonizing pain stabbed through his neck, but he had spent years fighting and scrambling his way through life and had learned a few tricks. He immediately let himself fall with the blow, bleeding off some of its force.

Through his blurred vision, he saw a face as vicious as a starving tiger's, devoid of every other expression.

He had looked down on that face from above just days ago—and trampled its owner like an insect.

"It's you!"

Chen Mo regained his balance and didn't stop, giving his opponent no chance to catch his breath. He immediately set his fists in the Wave-Intercepting stance, took a fierce step forward, and drove his left fist out, with his right following close behind.

Huang E forced down his terror and tried to spring up and turn over. He reached for Chen Mo's left fist with one hand, while the other, bracing against the ground, could not strike.

The instant fist met palm, Huang E felt his tendons and bones go numb. The wound in his neck split open further, and his face twisted in agony.

He was now completely sober and understood perfectly: Chen Mo meant to kill him tonight.

And that wasn't all. The essence of Wave-Intercepting Style lay in its second punch!

Chen Mo's right fist shot out, hammering toward Huang E's crown.

A rush of deathly terror swept through Huang E's entire body. His mouth fell open without his knowing, and his pupils widened to their limit.

The fist came down. His skull shattered with a crack.

"Crack!"

As the sound of breaking bone rang out along the path, the light of life slowly faded from Huang E's eyes. Chen Mo then noticed that the man's crotch had somehow become wet.

"Phew—"

Chen Mo withdrew his hand and pulled out a short blade, the kind commonly used by the Hansha Gang. Two days earlier, he had found it after one of the gang members carelessly discarded it, and picked it up while no one was around.

Without hesitation, he gripped the blade and slashed hard across Huang E's throat. Blood sprayed everywhere. Chen Mo quickly retreated a few steps to avoid getting any on himself.

Then he hacked several more times at Huang E's neck, skull, and other places, obscuring the traces of his fist technique. Only then did he stop and toss the blade onto the ground nearby.

Afterward, he searched Huang E's pockets and found some silver. He counted it: a full seven taels.

Chen Mo was delighted. He stuffed the silver into his pocket, didn't linger, and hurried home.

Silence returned to the narrow path, broken now and then by a few distant barks from dogs in the nearby homes.

In the thin mist, the moonlight was faint, but the blood was bright, glaringly so.