"Ha... ha..."
Hu Tian lay limp on the stretcher, his throat rasping with desperate breaths like a fish out of water.
He used the last of his strength to struggle to open his eyes, to make out the figure walking away.
The figure that had once patted his shoulder and said, "I regard you as my own little brother."
But all he could see was Zhang Xu's tightly enclosed soft palanquin, growing more distant and blurred as the servants carried it away, until at last it vanished completely into the crowd.
Only now did he truly understand how foolish he had been to listen to Zhang Xu and leave the Martial Academy.
"Big sister, I was wrong..."
The words his sister, Hu Li, had once spoken flashed through his mind. His face contorted with pain and endless remorse.
But it was too late.
"Hu Tian's really finished! His spine's broken. Forget practicing martial arts—he'll be lucky if he can even stand and walk again."
"What a waste of talent. Breaking through to Bright Strength in half a month—who wouldn't be green with envy? And what happened? He brought it all on himself."
"Serves him right! He trusted someone like Zhang Xu. When he betrayed his sect, didn't he think about the consequences?"
"Now he's in a sorry state. With no use left to him, why would Zhang Xu bother looking after him?"
Not far away, the Bluestone Martial Academy disciples had gathered together. Watching the scene, they kept their voices low as they murmured among themselves.
Among them, Lin Xiaohe wore the most complicated expression.
She had witnessed every moment of Hu Tian's brief "glory" over the past half month.
From his awkwardness when he first entered the Martial Academy, to his flattered delight when Zhang Xu brought him into his "circle," to his high spirits when he first learned a fist technique, to his smug satisfaction when he broke through to Bright Strength, and finally to his current wretched state, sprawled on a stretcher like a dead dog.
She had watched him build his tower high, watched him feast his guests, watched his tower collapse.
There was no better way to put it.
Thinking of how Hu Tian had all but humiliated her with his rejection, the complicated look in Lin Xiaohe's eyes finally gave way to a trace of satisfaction. She sneered inwardly.
Serves him right!
Then she turned away, no longer sparing a glance at the figure she had once gone to such lengths to cozy up to, but who was now worth nothing.
Her gaze passed over the crowd and settled on the silent, mountain-like figure not far away. She murmured, "As I thought, Senior Brother Shi Lei is the one best suited to me."
Shi Lei's expression remained fairly calm, but as he looked at Hu Tian's wretched state in the distance, he sighed inwardly.
"In the martial way, what matters isn't getting ahead first, but pressing on without end!"
He now understood those words more deeply.
Seated in his grand armchair, Yan Sheng's expression had darkened until it seemed he might drip with fury.
He had watched Zhang Xu's palanquin disappear into the crowd without so much as a backward glance, and then watched as more and more strange looks turned toward him.
In the end, he could only grimly pay for a Great Restoration Pill and have someone force it down the throat of the dying Hu Tian.
Three thousand taels of silver—he would consider it money spent on a shred of decency.
The two physicians swiftly administered the pill to Hu Tian, then examined his injuries. Only after that did they breathe a sigh of relief. Rising, they said to Yan Sheng, "Master Yan, your disciple's life is safe for now. But he still needs proper rest. It would be best to take him back to the martial arts hall, keep him lying down for a hundred days, and give him medicinal decoctions as well..."
"Take him back to the martial arts hall?"
Yan Sheng cut in coldly, not a trace of warmth in his voice.
"That boy has nothing whatsoever to do with the Extreme Fist Martial Arts Hall anymore."
He did not even glance at the barely breathing figure on the stretcher. Turning away, he left them with one last, icy remark:
"Take him anywhere you like. Just don't bring him back to our hall."
The two physicians exchanged glances and could only sigh helplessly.
They looked down at the pale, unconscious boy on the stretcher.
He had been a celebrated genius only moments ago, but now he was a burden everyone wanted to avoid.
The struggles of martial artists were truly cruel.
"A pack of useless fools! You can't even walk steadily!" A jolt from the palanquin roused Zhang Xu. Fury surged through him. Without even bothering to open his eyes, he cursed, "I was just about to fall asleep. Why have we stopped?"
"Master, there's an old man blocking the road ahead..."
A servant answered in a meek voice.
"An old man?" Zhang Xu furrowed his brow, still not opening his eyes. "Damn it, he dares block my way? Zhang Wang! Get rid of that old fool!"
"Yes, Master!"
Zhang Wang was following behind the palanquin. At the order, he immediately strode forward.
He glanced up. The man blocking the road was an unremarkable, gaunt old man, his body slack, as if he were gravely ill.
"Old fool, if you're sick, crawl back home and lie down! Blocking the road—you got a death wish?"
A vicious grin curled Zhang Wang's lips. He raised his leg and kicked hard at the old man's knee.
The kick was ruthless and carried considerable force. If it landed, the old man would be unable to stand for months.
The next moment.
The old man, who had seemed gravely ill, suddenly sprang into action. Like a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey, he appeared in front of Zhang Wang in an instant and lightly pressed a fist against his chest.
"You—"
The vicious grin on Zhang Wang's face froze.
The punch seemed weak, yet when it struck him, it was like an extraordinarily subtle steel needle, piercing through flesh, bone, and organs in an instant, grinding his insides to a pulp.
The force continued unabated, bursting straight through his back—
Bang!
With a dull thud, a bloody hole burst open in Zhang Wang's back!
Bright red blood sprayed out like arrows, spattering the face of Zhang Xu, who was inside the palanquin behind him.
"Hm?"
Feeling the warm, viscous blood dripping onto his face, Zhang Xu naturally noticed it and subconsciously opened his eyes.
What met his gaze was a pair of old eyes, utterly devoid of mercy.
"You are..."
Zhang Xu's pupils shrank violently.
The memories of that night at Lake Heart Pavilion—the fist to his chest, the terror that had nearly killed him, the white-haired old man's figure—overlapped in that instant with the gaze of the unfamiliar old man before him.
He was given no time to cry out.
Jiang Ye's fist had already struck his head.
Bang!
Another soft thud.
Zhang Xu's head did not burst like a watermelon. It crumpled and collapsed in an instant like a candle struck by a sledgehammer, scattering into countless tiny flecks of blood and bone.
Zhang Xu would never get his head around it.
Having killed two men in the blink of an eye, Jiang Ye's mind remained as calm as ever.
He did not spare either corpse a glance, but immediately withdrew.
After a brief silence.
"Murder!!!"
Only then did the Zhang family servants break down and scream.
About half an hour later.
Jiang Ye returned to the Martial Academy without a sound.
He changed his clothes, washed away the last faint trace of blood from his hands with water he had prepared earlier, and once more became the frail old gatekeeper.
To his surprise, less than half an incense stick later, hurried footsteps sounded from the far end of the long street.
The Martial Academy disciples returned in twos and threes, far earlier than the Martial Assembly had ended in previous years.
"Did the Martial Assembly end this early today?"
A flicker of curiosity crossed Jiang Ye's eyes.
But he soon guessed the reason from the disciples' chatter.
"Have you heard? Something big happened to the Zhang family!"
"How could I not? Zhang Xu was killed in the street! His head's gone!"
"Not just Zhang Xu. His trusted man, Zhang Wang, died too. There's a huge hole in his back, and his insides were ground to mush..."
"How awful... Someone who was there said blood was splattered everywhere, and they couldn't even find all of Zhang Xu's head..."
"The county magistrate has ordered a citywide lockdown and a house-to-house search for the killer! I heard the Zhang family patriarch nearly fainted on the spot and had to be carried home!"
"That old fox Zhang He's finally getting what he deserves? Serves him right! He shouldn't have raised such a beast of a son."
The disciples' chatter was mostly gleeful.
"Citywide lockdown to catch the killer?!"
A look of scorn flickered in Jiang Ye's aged eyes.
Who could have guessed the killer was a frail old gatekeeper?
Before long, Liu Qingshi returned as well. The disciples behind him carried a stretcher, and on it lay Hu Tian, limp as a pile of mud.
Jiang Ye was somewhat puzzled by the sight, but he did not ask.
Before long, he learned what had happened from the disciples' chatter.
After the two physicians had used the Great Restoration Pill to save Hu Tian's life, they had not known where to take him to recuperate. In the end, they could only ask Liu Qingshi if he knew where Hu Tian lived.
Liu Qingshi was indeed a man of compassion. He had already sent someone to notify Hu Tian's sister, so she could come and take him home.
Before long, Hu Tian's sister, Hu Li, arrived.
This should have been the third time Jiang Ye had seen her.
In the past, though Hu Li's clothes had been plain, her eyes had been bright and steadfast.
But now, her face was deathly pale, drained of all color. She seemed as if her bones had been pulled from her body, and she staggered with every step, nearly falling several times.
Her eyes were fixed on the stretcher, on the motionless figure lying atop it. Her lips trembled violently, but no sound came out.
At last, she rushed to the stretcher.
"Tian... my Tian!!!"
The cry tore from her, as if she were coughing up her very heart and lungs.
The disciples around them gradually fell silent, their expressions complicated as they watched.
Jiang Ye sighed softly, as if he were seeing again the first time Hu Li had brought Hu Tian to the Martial Academy to seek instruction.
All he could say was that on the martial path, one wrong step led to one mistake after another.
Before you continue