The heavy iron door creaked open with a dull thud as it was pushed open from the outside.
Yang Yuan stepped inside.
Today she wore a dark, fitted outfit, without the pair of silver claws at her waist. Her black hair was tied up with a plain silver hairpin, and a few stray strands fell beside her cheeks, casting faint shadows in the dim light.
Her beautiful face showed no expression, but her eyes held a colder, more detached look than usual.
" The Iron River Gang..."
The Iron Fist Sect Elder on the far left raised his head, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were being rubbed.
What exactly do you want?
The Iron River Gang captured them, but did not kill them, which made him feel uneasy.
Yang Yuan did not answer.
She walked slowly to the Elder, raised her right hand, and placed it on the top of the Elder's head.
Her hands were slender and fair, a stark contrast to the Elder's withered complexion.
The Elder's body jolted violently.
"You--!"
He spoke in a hoarse voice, his voice filled with barely suppressed terror.
Before he could finish speaking, his body began to wither away at a visible rate.
The once-plump muscles shrank and collapsed inch by inch, like soil that had been drained of moisture. The bronze skin lost its luster, becoming dry, sallow, and clinging tightly to the bones.
Those eyes, which had been wide open in anger, gradually dimmed, their pupils dilating and their spirits rapidly fading.
In a short while, a Third Grade martial artist was transformed into a light, desiccated corpse.
Yang Yuan withdrew her right hand and closed her eyes.
A rich, blood-red essence surged into her body through her arm, flowing and circulating within her meridians.
She could clearly feel that her cultivation level was increasing at an incredible speed.
The bottleneck of the Third Grade Late Stage was teetering on the brink of collapse under the impact of this vital energy.
She opened her eyes and turned to walk towards the second Iron Fist Sect Elder.
"Magic... magic power..."
The Elder's lips trembled, and his voice shook so much that he could barely form a sentence.
"..."
Yang Yuan didn't speak, but simply raised her right hand and placed it on the top of his head.
The same scene played out again—shriveled, withered, collapsed, a vibrant face turning into a withered shell in a very short time.
Third place, fourth place.
As the last Iron Fist Sect Elder's body slid limply onto the iron frame, Yang Yuan withdrew his right hand and stood in the center of the cell.
Her eyes were closed, and her aura began to fluctuate violently.
The surge came violently and rapidly, like a volcano that had been suppressed for a long time finally finding an outlet to erupt.
Within her body, the essence absorbed from the four Iron Fist Sect Elder was being refined and absorbed at an unprecedented speed, transforming into her own cultivation, flowing into her Qi Sea, and then being channeled towards a certain bottleneck.
"Buzz--"
A soft murmur, perceptible only to herself, resonated from the depths of her body.
The bottleneck that had been preventing her from making any progress, the Second Grade bottleneck, shattered at that moment.
Her aura suddenly surged.
The aura was so strong that it far surpassed that of Third Grade Late Stage, creating an invisible wave of energy within the narrow cell.
The flame of the oil lamp on the wall was blown about violently, almost going out, before it resumed its original flickering motion.
"Early stage of Second Grade."
Yang Yuan slowly opened her eyes and looked down at her hands.
Beneath the skin, a faint silvery sheen flowed, the lingering effect of Internal Qi naturally overflowing after a breakthrough in cultivation.
She gently clenched her fist, her knuckles crackling softly, feeling the unprecedented surge of Internal Qi within her body, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
She turned around and walked out of the cell.
Behind them, four shriveled corpses were chained to an iron frame, their empty eye sockets staring straight at the dim dome, their mouths wide open, as if they were still screaming silently until their death.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered in the draft, casting withered shadows that were distorted and eerie on the rough stone wall.
In a secluded room, candlelight flickered on a bronze lampstand.
Yan Wuji sat on the stone chair at the head of the table, his gray robe gleaming dimly in the firelight, his ancient face revealing no expression.
Qi Zhen stood beside him, his hands hanging at his sides, his posture respectful.
Yang Yuan pushed open the door and entered, then knelt on one knee as she approached.
" Supreme Elder, Chief."
Her voice was clear and bright, carrying an irrepressible joy.
Yan Wuji raised his eyes, his turbid yet deep gaze falling on Yang Yuan.
After a moment, he nodded slightly, his voice aged and calm:
"Early stage of Second Grade, not bad."
Yang Yuan raised her head and met Yan Wuji's gaze.
"I owe my success today entirely to the guidance and cultivation of the Supreme Elder."
"Get up and speak."
Yan Wuji waved his hand.
Yang Yuan stood up and stood at her feet on the steps.
Yan Wuji's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he slowly spoke:
"Don't waste the sect's efforts in nurturing us. Next time, we must defeat Fang Han, take first place on the Prodigy Ranking, and bring glory to our Iron River Gang."
"Yes."
Yang Yuan bowed and replied, her voice solemn and firm.
The afternoon sun shone through the windows of the Side Hall, casting bright shadows on the blue brick floor.
Fang Han sat at the dining table.
In the center, a large celadon bowl holds a braised pork hock, its color a bright red, stewed until tender and falling apart with a gentle touch of chopsticks.
Next to it was a plate of stir-fried seasonal vegetables, bright green and glossy, with a fragrant garlic aroma.
The other dish was cold wood ear mushroom salad, which was sour, spicy, and crunchy, quite appetizing.
The soup was made with old hen, golden in color, with a thin layer of chicken oil floating on top, and steaming hot.
He picked up a piece of pork hock and put it in his mouth. The meat was tender and juicy, not greasy at all, and had a salty and savory flavor with a hint of sweetness. It made his mouth water as it melted on his tongue.
I took another sip of chicken soup. The broth was rich and smooth, and it dispelled the fatigue accumulated from days of training.
He ate slowly, but he ate each bite very carefully.
Qui Lan stood to the side with her hands at her sides. Fang Han put down his chopsticks, Teacup, and take a small sip, she stepped forward and said softly:
"Senior brother, you instructed me a few days ago to go to the Rain Listening Hall to gather information. I went there yesterday and heard some things."
Fang Han put down his Teacup and looked up at Qui Lan.
"Explain."
"Just a few days ago, the Iron River Gang made a move against the Iron Fist Sect, which is also a major power."
Qui Lan said.
Fang Han's gaze flickered slightly, but he did not speak.
Qui Lan continued:
"Even though Grandmaster Yan Wuji of the Iron River Gang didn't make a move, the Iron River Gang still utterly crushed the Iron Fist Sect."
She paused, her voice carrying a hint of seriousness.
"According to people from the Rain Listening Hall, the overall strength displayed by the Iron River Gang this time far surpasses that of the Iron Fist Sect, a major power, and is already catching up with the Seven Sects."
"Directly catching up with the Seven Sects?"
Fang Han's brows furrowed slightly.
He was neither surprised nor surprised by this.
It's not surprising, because the Iron River Gang produced a grandmaster.
With a grandmaster in charge, a power gains the confidence and resources to expand into surrounding areas.
It is perfectly normal to annex surrounding forces and strengthen oneself.
To his surprise, the Iron River Gang wiped out the Iron Fist Sect Yan Wuji even making a move.
Although Iron Fist Sect is not as powerful as the Seven Sects, it is still a major force in the county.
The sect has many disciples, more than ten Elder of the Upper Third Grade, and the sect leader is a First Grade martial artist.
Such a force was utterly powerless against the Iron River Gang.
This is not normal.
The Iron River Gang produced a Grandmaster, which can be said to be due to the fact that they were fortunate enough to obtain the Grandmaster's martial arts techniques from the Grandmaster's Tomb in Songquan Prefecture, and were fortunate enough to break through to the Grandmaster level with this technique.
However, their overall strength is approaching that of the Seven Sects, which cannot be explained by the word "luck".
Or perhaps the Iron River Gang has been hiding their true strength all along.
Alternatively, the overall strength of the Iron River Gang may have surged dramatically in a short period of time.
Fang Han was silent for a moment, then asked.
What is the Azure Profound Sect's stance on this matter?
The sect has not yet commented.
Qui Lan said.
"What about the other six cases?"
"They haven't made any statement either."
Qui Lan answered.
Fang Han Teacup and took another sip.
He was not surprised by the attitude of the Azure Profound Sect and the other six sects.
The Iron River Gang is not an ordinary force, but one with a grandmaster in charge.
The weight of a Grandmaster is enough to make the Seven Sects weigh the pros and cons repeatedly before making any decision.
A rash conflict with the Iron River Gang would come at too high a price.
Moreover, the Seven Sects are already engaged in open and covert struggles, and none of them want to antagonize the Iron River Gang, thus creating a powerful enemy and benefiting the other six sects.
Silence became the safest option.
"Keep an eye on news about the Iron River Gang."
Fang Han put down his Teacup.
"Yes, senior brother."
Qui Lan bowed in response.
Fang Han stood up and walked to the window.
Outside the window, the bamboo grove rustled in the autumn wind, and a few yellowed bamboo leaves swirled and fell, spreading a thin layer on the ground.
In the distance, the mountains stretch endlessly, shimmering with a faint golden glow in the afternoon sun.
Iron River Gang...
Whenever he thought of the Iron River Gang, a sense of unease lingered in his heart, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the source of this unease.
The afternoon sun slanted across the courtyard, casting long, thin shadows of the bamboo grove.
After lunch, Fang Han practiced his Sword Technique in the Cultivation Ground in the backyard. The Wind Sword Intent was attached to the Cloudsplitter Sword, releasing a dangerous aura.
In his hand, the Cloudsplitter Sword transformed into streaks of pale blue light; where the sword's edge passed, the air silently cracked open with fine lines.
The obsidian floor was now covered with new sword marks, varying in depth and thickness, some as thin as a hair, others an inch wide.
After finishing a set of Sword Technique techniques, he sheathed his sword, stood up, and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.
Hurried footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate, followed by the voice of a Maid:
"Senior Brother Fang, a servant disciple reports that a woman surnamed Lan is requesting an audience outside the sect, claiming to be an old acquaintance of yours."
Fang Han was slightly taken aback, guessed who it was, sheathed his sword, and turned to walk towards the front courtyard.
"Go to the sect gate and bring her in."
He gave the Maid an instruction, and Maid bowed in response and hurried toward the courtyard gate.
Before long, a slender figure gracefully entered through the moon gate.
Today, Lan Yuexin wore a light blue long dress with a matching sheer shawl over it. Her black hair was loose and flowing down her back, adorned with a jade hairpin.
As she walked, her skirt swayed slightly, and her hair ornaments trembled gently, making her already exquisite face appear even more refined and otherworldly.
" Fang Han"
Lan Yuexin walked closer, bowed slightly, and her bright eyes lingered on Fang Han's face for a moment before she spoke.
"Miss Yuexin."
Fang Han returned the greeting with a cupped hand and stepped aside to lead the way.