Wang Tianhao

"If you have the silver, one month is enough. Just come pick up the weapon then." The big man agreed without hesitation.

"Then I'll trouble Master Ma. This is the deposit." Shi Mu's face showed a trace of a smile as he pulled a bulging silver pouch from his waist and tossed it over.

This Master Ma was one of the few people in the Black Fox Society—aside from Feng Li and Gao Yuan—who knew his 'Fierce Fist' identity. He was said to be some distant relative of Gao Yuan's, skilled not only in smelting and forging but even in blade and sword crafting that rivaled those so-called masters in Feng City.

Back then, the silver mask worn by the real 'Fierce Fist' had come from his hands.

Thus, Shi Mu felt quite at ease about the silver he'd paid in advance.

But that meant his pockets were empty again. He'd have to find some more silver somehow.

Thinking about it, his income over the past half year came partly from the 'Yuanxiang Restaurant' under his name, which had a good location. Ever since he started sending game from the nearby mountains directly there, business had been even better, bringing in over a hundred taels of silver each month.

The other, larger portion came from his earnings as Fierce Fist on several jobs. As for the farmland on the outskirts, it barely covered the estate's normal expenses.

It seemed that matter would have to be moved up earlier than planned.

Fortunately, just two days ago, he'd trained the Wind-Galloping Blade Technique to the level of seven strikes per breath, which should barely suffice for this task.

He knew that the surge from his body's transformation had ended half a year ago. Only then did he realize how remarkable it had been to easily achieve six strikes per breath before. Over these past six months, he'd trained the Wind-Galloping Blade Technique almost daily, barely managing to increase his strike speed by one more.

Still, that was enough to make him the envy of ordinary Martial Disciples. After all, even Li Canghai, using true qi, could only manage nine strikes per breath.

With these thoughts, Shi Mu slowly left the smithy, spent half a day visiting a few other general stores in the city to buy some supplies, and then returned to his residence in town.

The moment he stepped into the room, his gaze swept casually toward the window, and his expression shifted.

He walked over, reached under the half-open window, and pulled out a crumpled ball of paper.

Shi Mu smoothly unfolded the paper, scanned it quickly, and then laughed.

"Looks like someone's sending silver to my door again."

With that, he tucked the paper into his chest, lay down on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

He didn't get up until dusk, refreshed and energetic. After pulling a bundle from under the bed, he left his residence once more.

An hour later, in the back courtyard of the Heavenly King Temple—a place with some small fame in Feng City—a crowd of Black Fox Society members lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain. Clubs, blades, and swords were scattered everywhere, but not one dared to stand. Even Feng Li and Gao Yuan were on the ground—one with blood at the corner of his mouth, the other covered in dusty footprints.

These two leaders of the Black Fox Society stared at the spear-wielding youth standing before them, their faces filled with unspeakable shock.

They had heard of his reputation as a prodigy, but they never imagined his strength had reached such a level.

The two of them, Martial Disciples who had completed body tempering, plus over a dozen strong underlings in the courtyard, couldn't hold out for even a moment against him.

"Wang Tianhao, we only just received your challenge letter, and you've already stormed in. This is too much!" Gao Yuan, though wracked with pain, couldn't help shouting.

"Hmph, a waste like you, what's all the noise? I was in a bad mood this afternoon, so I thought I'd come say hello to your 'Fierce Fist' early. Got a problem with that?" The white-clad youth, fair-skinned and expressionless, replied flatly. He lifted his foot and—bang—stomped Gao Yuan's head into the ground, burying it halfway into the dirt.

Gao Yuan, terrified and furious, tried to struggle but had no strength left, so he could only curse.

The white-clad youth, without a word, pressed down harder. Gao Yuan's face twisted in pain, and he couldn't open his mouth at all.

Feng Li, seeing this, was equally shocked and enraged. Just as he was about to get up and fight to the death, a whoosh sounded, and a dark object shot toward the white-clad youth.

The youth raised an eyebrow and simply swung his spear in front of him.

Boom!

The dark object exploded against the spear shaft, sending fragments flying everywhere. The youth's spear shaft was actually forged from refined iron, while the dark object was a fist-sized stone.

The white-clad youth's arm trembled, forcing him back a step. He turned his head, and a shard of stone grazed past his cheek, leaving a shallow line of blood.

"Fierce Fist!"

The white-clad youth ignored the blood on his face entirely, his eyes locked onto the newly arrived figure in black with a silver mask, burning with fervor.

"So you're the one challenging me?" Shi Mu, looking through his mask at the scene in the courtyard, asked slowly.

"You don't know who I am?" The white-clad youth looked surprised.

"What, should I know who you are?" Shi Mu glanced at the iron spear in the other's hand, stepped forward into the courtyard, and kicked a stray iron blade off the ground into his grip.

"Little brother, be careful! This Wang Tianhao is called the number one Martial Disciple of Feng City. He's a disciple of the Bloodline Wang Clan." Feng Li shouted a warning.

"Number one Martial Disciple of Feng City! Bloodline Wang Clan!" Shi Mu's pupils contracted at these words.

"Heh, the title of number one Martial Disciple isn't something I gave myself. Everyone who didn't accept it, I've beaten into submission. As for the Bloodline Wang Clan, I'm a member, but I haven't awakened my bloodline to become a true bloodline warrior yet." The white-clad youth chuckled.

"With such a reputation, why would you trouble a small gang like ours?" Shi Mu asked, growing serious.

"Haha, challenging the strong—does that need a reason? Since you're here, I can't be bothered with these trash anymore. Take my spear first!" Wang Tianhao laughed loudly, then lunged forward, gripping his spear with both hands and thrusting it straight at Shi Mu.

Shi Mu's vision blurred as five gleaming spear tips appeared before him, stabbing viciously at his chest.

Shi Mu snorted, his arm moving as the iron blade blurred, conjuring five black blade shadows that slashed out.

Puff, puff.

The five spear tips and blade shadows collided and dissipated instantly. But then, a flash of cold light—a sixth spear tip emerged like a viper, shooting straight for Shi Mu's face.

The speed and angle of this strike caught Shi Mu off guard. He had no time to block with his iron blade. With a fierce shout, he threw the blade aside, stepped back, and brought both arms together in a blur before him.

A dull thud. The white-clad youth froze in shock.

Shi Mu's hands, clad in black gloves, clamped down on the spear tip like iron anvils, stopping it half a foot from his chest.

But the white-clad youth immediately sneered.

If this Fierce Fist truly believed he could catch a spear thrust with just his palms, he couldn't be more wrong.

Before Shi Mu could change his move, the youth twisted the spear shaft he had just grabbed with both hands, then yanked it back with all his might.

A "hum" sounded.

The refined iron spear shaft suddenly trembled violently, but the spearhead clamped between Shi Mu's hands remained utterly still.

The white-clad youth instantly felt a searing pain in his palms and sucked in a sharp breath. Needless to say, he had pulled too hard and scraped his own skin raw.

Just then, Shi Mu on the opposite side suddenly spread the fingers of one hand, still gripping the spearhead tightly, while his other hand clenched into a fist and slammed down fiercely on the spear shaft.

"Crack"

The ten-foot-long iron spear shaft bent inward from the middle, and at the same time, a tremendous force surged along the shaft straight toward the white-clad youth's arm.

"Damn, this freak!"

Though the white-clad youth had long known Fierce Fist was incredibly strong, he never imagined he could bend iron with his bare hands to such a freakish degree. He cursed aloud, stomped one foot on the ground, and hastily let go of the broken spear shaft, leaping backward.

"Boom"

The spear shaft, still under the force of the blow, slammed heavily into the ground, gouging out a basin-sized crater before rebounding instantly.

The white-clad youth, having regained his footing, watched this scene with an expression that turned extremely grim.

"Bang," Shi Mu casually dropped the spear, now bent like a great bow, to the ground and strode toward the other.

"I'm done! You're too strong, and I don't have a proper weapon anymore. Now I finally understand what the elders at home always meant by 'one force subdues ten skills.' Running into a muscle-bound freak like you, even if I used the full Fang Fire Spear Technique, I wouldn't have a sure win. But give it two or three months, and that might change." The white-clad youth suddenly laughed and waved his hand.

"You say fight, we fight. You say stop, we stop. Since when is the world so kind?" Shi Mu said coldly in a low voice. With a slight shake of his shoulders, he was about to teach the other a lesson with his fists.

"I'll pay compensation!"

"What did you say?" Shi Mu stumbled, almost thinking he had misheard.

"Compensation. I've got a small pouch of gold beans here, enough to cover your medical expenses. But don't get me wrong—I'm not really afraid of you, Fierce Fist. I just don't think I can crush you in a fight right now. If I had to work up a full sweat to settle this, wouldn't that tarnish my reputation as Feng City's number one Martial Disciple?" The white-clad youth raised his head, finished speaking, and tossed over a palm-sized cloth pouch.

Shi Mu stared, dumbfounded.

He had never met such a narcissistic fellow before.

Just then, the white-clad youth suddenly turned and sprinted away. Mid-stride, he stomped his foot and leaped clean over a two-zhang-high wall, his voice drifting back from the other side.

"Haha, Fierce Fist, remember this—my name is Wang Tianhao. I'll be the one to personally defeat you one day."

After that, no more sound came from the other side of the wall.