Investigation

Strength +1, Agility +1, Spirit +1. Feng Xiu knew the direct numerical display meant he was growing stronger.

But overall, it wasn't the earth-shattering transformation he had imagined.

"Progress from zero to one... Is it because my life force is too high, thus overshadowing the changes in other attributes?"

As he thought, Feng Xiu took another step forward, sinking his waist. Power rose from his legs, twisting through his hips and past his shoulders, all coordinated with a specific breathing rhythm.

He casually threw a punch. Beneath that single fist, a clean, crisp air blast sounded.

After finishing, Feng Xiu lowered his head to look at his own hands, sinking into deep thought.

"My overall blood and qi sensation, as well as the power in my core waist and hips, have indeed improved quite a bit."

"Moreover, this kind of force technique is very similar to the 'whip-crack effect' used by athletes in my past life. Applied to martial arts, it means integrating it into one's own instinct?"

The whip-crack effect—the name sounds lofty, but in reality, it's a process of continuous force transmission through the legs, waist and hips, core muscle groups, and breathing.

Like a violent smash in badminton, a 'king's twist' in table tennis, the wrist snap in a standard jump shot.

And the most typical example, the javelin throw, is all an application of the whip-crack effect.

"No wonder you have to get rid of the stiffness in your body before training in martial arts. Someone with poor coordination really couldn't practice this."

Feng Xiu suddenly understood. After making a brief self-assessment in his mind, the corners of his mouth unconsciously lifted.

Martial arts training tempers the body—muscles, bones, skin, and membranes—each step building on the last. Yet the Five Force Fist managed to encompass all four of these stages.

Practicing the fist form regularly brought constant renewal. Persistence was key, and every session yielded new insights. To be honest, Feng Xiu had truly fallen in love with cultivation.

Especially that process of sweat streaming down his cheeks, the smell of perspiration mingling with the effort of growth—it was utterly addictive to him.

Immediately after, Feng Xiu loosened his bones and joints.

Instantly, a series of crackling sounds like beans popping in a pan came from his body as he walked toward Uncle Zheng under the covered walkway.

"Uncle Zheng."

"Eldest Young Master."

Uncle Zheng had a towel draped over his right arm and handed it over. Feng Xiu wiped the fine sweat from his forehead.

He had been so absorbed in his training that he hadn't noticed Uncle Zheng had been there for a while. Now that he looked, he saw a worried frown creasing the old man's face.

"Uncle Zheng, what's wrong? Nothing's gone wrong in White Willow Village, has it?" Feng Xiu asked.

Currently, after Feng Ao had made it clear what Feng Xiu should do, Feng Xiu simply hadn't listened.

He still felt things weren't that dire yet.

"Right now, grain prices in the city are showing signs of rising, and the River Law Bureau is completely inactive. White Willow Village hasn't erupted yet, but public sentiment is unpredictable."

Uncle Zheng was silent for a moment.

Feng Xiu frowned upon hearing this.

"I'll think of something. I'll find time to go check the reservoir. I want to see exactly what the River Law Bureau is trying to do!"

Unless absolutely necessary, Feng Xiu wouldn't use the escort team's manpower to suppress a bloody conflict.

When it came down to it, what the tenant farmers were asking for was nothing but water.

Go back five hundred years, whose ancestors hadn't scraped a living from the dirt?

Uncle Zheng nodded after hearing this, then remembered the main matter and reported in a low, serious voice.

"Eldest Young Master, the matter you asked me to investigate before has finally yielded some clues."

Feng Xiu paused in wiping his sweat, looking at him with a jolt of alertness. "What did you find?"

Uncle Zheng stepped forward. "Regarding Su Wantang, this old servant has had people investigate her thoroughly. This woman... is eerie."

"Eerie? How so?" Feng Xiu asked in surprise.

Uncle Zheng paused his tone, as if organizing his words, his usual composure replaced by a hint of doubt.

"She did indeed sign a contract with the Fragrant Flower Pavilion, but I used some connections to take a look at the contract's contents. It's not an ordinary bond-servant contract for a virgin courtesan."

"It looks more like a cooperative business contract. Her autonomy within the pavilion is astonishingly great."

"She chooses her own clients. She sells her art, not her body?" Feng Xiu raised an eyebrow.

The Fragrant Flower Pavilion was a place of wind and moon. In a den that devoured people without spitting out bones, the concept of 'selling art, not body' never truly existed.

As long as the money was right, even the madam could become a private guest.

"Not entirely. This woman is proficient in both zither and song, skilled in southern opera and ditties. She's deeply favored by many wealthy households in the city. One rich man offered five hundred taels to redeem her, but the Fragrant Flower Pavilion actually refused."

"That night at the private appreciation gathering, those bastards like Liu Wenjun spent the whole evening whispering in the Second Young Master's ear about how wonderful and rare this woman was."

As Uncle Zheng spoke here, his expression involuntarily darkened.

"When the Second Young Master bid two hundred taels, she had the madam drop the gavel on the spot. After that, she was only willing to receive the Second Young Master alone."

Feng Xiu's brows furrowed in thought as he pondered for a moment. "Uncle Zheng, there are too many suspicious points. A virgin courtesan waiting for the highest bidder is common sense, but only receiving Shou Zhuo alone—that's not about making money anymore."

"Eldest Young Master, are you saying this is a setup?" Uncle Zheng caught on. "But the Feng Clan is no small family..."

He hadn't not considered that Su Wantang might be a player in the game, specifically hunting Feng Shouzhuo.

But that line of thinking didn't match reality. After all, the Feng Clan was no small family—their strength was far from weak.

Had Su Wantang eaten a bear's heart and a leopard's gall, daring to provoke a third-generation clan?

"Precisely because the Feng Clan isn't a small family, she might have set her sights on it." Feng Xiu cut in, his voice turning cold.

"If she were only after money, there are plenty of targets. What if what she seeks is an easily controlled clan scion?"

"Besides, Shouzhuo's private savings and pocket money—would she really go for that?"

Uncle Zhou sank into thought at this. In his early years, he had seen similar setups before.

He simply hadn't considered it from that angle. Who would orchestrate a scheme using cultivation arts to drain a clan scion until he was neither human nor ghost?

"Uncle Zhou, are you certain she came as a refugee?" Feng Xiu asked again.

"Confirmed. Su Wantang said so herself—she hails from Jin Province, with no one to rely on." Uncle Zhou snapped back to reality and answered.

"There you have it. She's a pure courtesan—what right does she have to defy the madam?"

From every angle, Feng Xiu couldn't explain Su Wantang's actions.

On the flip side, aside from some grain trade, three farm estates, ten taverns, nine corner shops, and six streets—

What else did the Feng Clan have worth such a heavy investment, even at the cost of her chastity?

It couldn't be that she was after him, the legitimate eldest son, could it?

"By the way, how has Shouzhuo been lately? Has his health improved?"

"The second young master is still gaunt. Besides having no appetite or peace of mind, he keeps clamoring to see Su Wantang."

"Mm. Lock him up for a while first."

"Forget it." He rubbed his brow, suppressing the thought. "Let's set this aside for now. I'll talk to Uncle Zhou about it later."

Over the past few days, Zhou Gang and Feng Xiu's relationship had skyrocketed. The grace of passing on one's craft naturally carried a hint of master-disciple bond.

Zhou Gang had both influence and manpower. If Feng Xiu spoke to him properly, he likely wouldn't refuse.

No matter how exquisite the con or seductive the trap, before Zhou Gang's strength—capable of cleaving stone and severing iron—they were nothing but eggs smashing against rocks.

One force overcomes a hundred techniques. That principle was simple enough.

But Feng Xiu understood in his heart: if the other side truly dared to strike at the Feng Clan and could ignore the combined martial force of Feng Ao and Zhou Gang, Then behind them, they might well have their own "one force."