Transporting Pig Iron

"It seems these bandits have learned their lesson—they've chosen to lie low."

"Too bad for them, you simply can't afford to wait."

For three straight days, not a single bandit showed their face on Falling Mist Mountain. Clearly, they had pulled back their forces.

But they couldn't stay hidden forever.

Just as the great man said, the sixteen-character mantra.

The enemy advances, we retreat; the enemy camps, we harass; the enemy tires, we strike; the enemy retreats, we pursue.

"The further we go, the fewer chances the disciples will have to train."

The younger generation of the Fang Family were mostly still in the Acquired Realm.

But with the Green Ridge Stronghold's strength nearly worn down, the remaining elites would surely counterattack—and insufficient strength meant death.

"It's time to consider wiping out Green Ridge Stronghold entirely!"

Fang Yuan's eyes flickered with a dangerous light. He had already opened over a hundred acupoints in his body, his strength surging.

Of course, he wasn't arrogant enough to think he could take on that Foundation Establishment Realm expert from Green Ridge Stronghold.

The gap between them was a chasm.

"Just a little longer."

At most half a month, and Fang Yuan was confident he could break through to Foundation Establishment. Then he could charge up Green Ridge Stronghold without worry—no need to rush.

"Continue cultivating!"

Add points!

Fang Yuan closed his eyes and sat cross-legged, shifting his awareness to the attribute panel. He tapped the "+" next to his cultivation level.

In an instant.

Fang Yuan felt a surge of heat rush to his head—itching one moment, aching the next—but it didn't last long.

Then, his face grew hot, the warmth spreading to his eyes in a soothing stream.

Finally, in his chest, it felt as if a mysterious gate had burst open, power erupting through his entire body.

You have cultivated for a year, breaking through three barriers in succession. Parts of your body have been strengthened, but your cultivation has not yet achieved a substantive breakthrough.

The final step of the Xiantian Realm.

Breaking through one hundred and eight acupoints—but the hardest were the last eight, which served as connectors, linking the upper and lower.

What he had just broken through were the Baihui, Jingming, and Danzhong acupoints, located at the crown of the head, the face, and the chest respectively.

After breaking through these three barriers, Fang Yuan felt his mind clear and his five senses sharpen.

Knock knock knock...

Not long after, a knock came at Fang Yuan's door. It was Steward Fang Zheng, here to discuss something.

"Soon, we need to transport a batch of pig iron back to the family's blacksmith shop."

"I'd like to entrust this task to the Young Master, and it also gives us a chance to send some injured disciples back to the clan."

Fang Yuan thought for a moment and quickly agreed.

With the Green Ridge Stronghold bandits refusing to show their faces, staying here wasn't very meaningful.

"I recall that last batch of pig iron was hijacked by bandits halfway?" Fang Yuan asked.

Fang Zheng, thinking he was being blamed, tensed up and quickly apologized.

"I'm just curious—does Green Ridge Stronghold have its own forging production line?"

Fang Zheng thought it over and shook his head. "They probably don't. Forging weapons takes more than just pig iron."

Blacksmithing was a legitimate business, and it was regulated by the government.

Fang Yuan nodded. To prevent any further mishaps, he had the pig iron transport convoy disguised as an ordinary merchant caravan.

He also sent people to the iron mine to find some experienced miners and laborers, dressing them up to blend into the group.

It was autumn now, leaves falling in the wind.

The disciples walked along the official road, the workers keeping watch over the pig iron, while Fang Yuan lounged leisurely in a carriage.

"Not a single worthy opponent along the way—no chance to use the Myriad Star Fist at all."

Fang Yuan decided that after dealing with Green Ridge Stronghold, he would head to Falling Mist Mountain alone to train. Those demon beasts would make excellent sparring partners.

"Fifth Chief, didn't Second Chief say no robbing the roads for now..."

In a grove by the official road, over twenty men lay in ambush, each gripping sharp blades, their faces fierce and menacing.

"No robbing? You want to eat the wind instead?" the Fifth Chief sneered.

"Once we finish this job, I'll take you all to the Prefecture City's brothels. Anyone who performs well, I'll lead straight to the Embracing Moon Pavilion."

Thinking of the feeling of a beauty drunk in their laps, these bandits, who rarely got a taste of flesh, felt a flicker of excitement.

"Boss, look ahead—there's a wagon train coming!"

The Fifth Chief followed the direction he was pointing, a smile spreading across his face, his eyes flickering.

"Everyone, get your gear ready. Without my order, no one makes a move."

The merchant convoy passed right before them, yet the Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold still gave no command.

This made some of the brothers anxious—they were about to miss their chance.

"Have you forgotten the Second Chief's warning?"

This man had a fiery temper, but he wasn't brainless. Suspecting a trap, he decided to ambush them in open ground.

"What, are you doubting my strength?"

Hearing this, the bandits quickly denied it, shaking their heads.

"The Fifth Chief is a Ninth Heaven innate master—handling this convoy is as easy as reaching into your pocket!" someone flattered.

The man basked in the praise, and besides, he truly had the credentials to back it up.

"Finally, we're almost at the Prefecture City. We can go home," a disciple said excitedly.

Emerging onto the official road outside Falling Mist Mountain, what came into view was a massive city, like a crouching beast lying in wait.

Most bandits would choose to strike within Falling Mist Mountain—fewer people, better terrain, easier to make a move.

So stepping out, most people breathed a sigh of relief, loosening their taut nerves.

"Everyone on alert!"

But at that moment, a sharp voice rang out from inside the carriage.

The crowd didn't understand why, but they obeyed, scanning their surroundings warily.

After a moment, from who knows where, more than twenty men indeed burst out, surrounding the group.

"You're from Green Ridge Stronghold?"

They'd had plenty of dealings with those bandits lately, and one sharp-eyed disciple recognized them.

"Didn't expect you to be so alert."

The Fifth Chief didn't answer directly, only found it surprising—how did these people know he'd been tailing them the whole way?

"Kill them all!"

Suddenly, an icy command rang out.

But it didn't come from the Green Ridge Stronghold men—it came from inside the carriage.

"I've never seen anyone this cocky. Get the hell down here!"

The Fifth Chief burned with rage, his Ninth Heaven innate cultivation on full display as he raised his broadsword and swung it at the carriage, intent on splitting it open.

"Protect the Young Master!"

The powerful true qi shook the carriage violently. The disciples were alarmed and rushed toward that spot.

But at that moment, a figure shot out swiftly.

Boom...

With a thunderous blast.

Everyone saw a figure in the air fly backward at high speed.

"Who are you?"

The one on the ground was none other than the Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold. He stared fixedly at Fang Yuan, his expression shocked and uncertain.

One exchange and he'd been blasted flying—someone like this couldn't possibly be a nobody.

"The man who kills you."

Fang Yuan's tone was indifferent. To withstand one of his blows without dying, this man was worthy of crossing blades with him.

The Fifth Chief pushed off the ground with both hands, springing upright. His gaze was icy cold, his true qi surging as he poured it into his broadsword, which gleamed with a chilling light.

As he swung, blade qi split the air, heavy and forceful—likely carrying several thousand jin of strength.

Fang Yuan's expression didn't change. He stepped with Phantom Step, and the true qi longsword he'd condensed in his hand shattered the moment it touched the blade.

"Won't even draw your sword? Truly a newborn calf unafraid of tigers."

The Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold sneered, unleashing over a dozen fierce slashes. The ground cracked under the force of his strikes.

Boom... Bang...

Fang Yuan dodged while unleashing the Myriad Star Fist, a barrage of attacks like falling meteors raining down on the man.

"Damn it."

The Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold roared in pain. Every punch that landed on him shook his internal organs, nearly knocking them out of place.

But his swinging broadsword couldn't even touch the hem of the other's clothes.

Since he'd cultivated to the Ninth Heaven innate and opened over twenty acupoints, he had never suffered such humiliation.

A dozen exchanges passed in rapid succession.

The Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold sensed something was wrong.

That brat was likely using him as a punching bag for practice—there wasn't even a trace of true qi flowing through his knuckles!

The burly man, both shocked and terrified, had already begun to think about retreating.

"Want to leave?"

Fang Yuan swept his gaze across the battlefield. The Fang Family disciples were outnumbered and on the losing end, barely holding on.

It was time to finish off this Fifth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold for good.

Fang Yuan condensed true qi into his arm and blasted forward relentlessly, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

Boom...

The fleeing Fifth Chief suddenly felt as if stars were falling from the sky behind him, hammering into his body again and again, shattering every bone until he collapsed limply to the ground, his breath finally ceasing...