Li Beichen leaped down from the arena.
He took a white cloth and wiped the blood from his hands.
It was all Wu Ming's blood.
As for him, only the knuckles of his fists were a little red and scraped. It was nothing to worry about.
That was the result of putting too much force into his punches just moments ago, holding nothing back as he swung.
In a couple of days, he would be as good as new.
"If I'd held back just a little, I still could've beaten Wu Ming to death, and I wouldn't even have scraped the skin off my hands..."
Li Beichen reflected on his gains and losses.
"After yesterday's training, my Giant Elephant Fist progress was over 380. I wonder how much this fight raised it."
With a thought, he opened the proficiency panel.
[Skill: Giant Elephant Fist (Threshold of Mastery)] [Progress: (421/500)] [Traits: Bright Force, Elephant Breath] [Bright Force: Body and strength united, fists weighing over a thousand pounds] [Elephant Breath: Longer breaths, improved stamina, improved explosive power]
Over 420!
One fight had raised his progress by more than thirty points.
"At most another ten days, and my Giant Elephant Fist will reach the next level."
Li Beichen thought to himself.
Just then, several muscular men in brocade robes parted the crowd like sharks and came up to Li Beichen.
The burliest among them gave Li Beichen a once-over.
After confirming he was unharmed,
he grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.
"Old Seven, looks like we got here a step too late. You've already finished the fight."
He patted Li Beichen on the shoulder and glanced at Wu Ming's corpse on the arena.
"Good lad. You beat a veteran Ninth Grade fighter to death with your bare hands. You've done the Like-Elephant Martial Hall proud!"
"Next time, wait for us, Eldest Senior Brother!"
Looking at everyone, the chill faded from Li Beichen's face, and a smile returned.
Apart from Yuan Dazong and Fang Meiqin, all the other Inner Courtyard disciples had come to back him up.
A touch of warmth rose in Li Beichen's heart.
He cupped his hands in salute.
"Thank you, brothers."
At that moment, a burly, dark-skinned man came hurrying over, gasping for breath and carrying a Pig-Slaughtering Knife.
It was Wang Er.
The first thing he did was ask,
"Brother Beichen, are you all right?!"
"I'm fine, Brother Wang. Catch your breath first."
Li Beichen could tell Wang Er had run two li without stopping to get here.
"The mastermind behind the attack on our shop has already been dealt with."
"Don't worry. Tell the workers to keep the shop open!"
Hearing Li Beichen's words, the butcher gave a simple, honest smile.
Wang Er's loyalty was pure. Facing a Ninth Grade martial artist, he had grabbed his knife and come running without a second thought.
And he had a baby at home who wasn't even a month old.
Though Zhou Zhongru had caught him off guard today, he had a group of people like this who would rush to his side the moment they heard the news.
Li Beichen was in good spirits.
He looked at everyone.
"Tonight's on me. Rouge House, Hundred Flowers Pavilion—we'll drink till we drop!"
Before the words had even left his mouth, a sinister voice cut in.
"You killed someone and think you can just walk away?"
Two men in brocade robes shoved through the crowd.
They blocked Li Beichen's path.
Li Beichen saw clearly that the words "Thunderbolt Martial Hall" were embroidered on their sleeves.
The speaker's aura was powerful, and a strange, dark gleam rippled across his skin.
Li Beichen was no longer the clueless novice who knew nothing about martial arts.
He knew this was a sign of Seventh Grade Skin Refining.
But he wasn't alone, either.
Behind him, Eldest Senior Brother Zhang Meng stepped forward, amusement in his eyes.
"Mo the Second, what's this? Doesn't the Thunderbolt Martial Hall recognize the rules of the martial arena anymore?"
Beside him, Fourth Senior Brother Yang Ling quietly explained to Li Beichen,
"That's the second-in-command of the Thunderbolt Martial Hall, Mo Changkun. He's Seventh Grade Skin Refining, but don't worry. Eldest Senior Brother will beat the stuffing out of him."
"Mo Changkun's been at the Thunderbolt Martial Hall for over ten years, and Wu Ming followed him around like a lapdog."
Li Beichen nodded. He watched Mo Changkun take a small step back, though he still kept up his threats.
"Zhang Meng, you people can go ahead and kill someone from the Thunderbolt Martial Hall, but this isn't over."
Zhang Meng immediately stepped forward again, pressing his massive chest into Mo Changkun's face as he looked down at him.
"Wu Ming left the Thunderbolt Martial Hall ten years ago. You still call him one of their people?"
"What, everyone under you, Mo the Second, counts as a member of the Thunderbolt Martial Hall now?"
"When did you get the authority to call the shots? I'll have to discuss this with Lin Xiong."
At Zhang Meng's words, Mo Changkun's expression changed.
Seeing this, Zhang Meng sneered and shoved him, making Mo Changkun stumble.
"Get out of my way. If you've got the guts, meet me on the Martial Arena."
Mo Changkun was left utterly humiliated.
All he could do was watch Li Beichen and Zhang Meng's group leave.
"What are you staring at? Get lost!"
Mo Changkun took his anger out on the bystanders.
He kicked several people to the ground in succession.
The strong only challenge those stronger than themselves.
Only the weak draw their blades against the weak.
Rouge House, Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
Li Beichen and several of his senior brothers from the Like-Elephant Martial Hall drank and toasted together.
As for Wang Er, he had two cups, then said he was worried about his wife and child at home and took his leave.
Li Beichen didn't try to stop him.
He knew Wang Er would feel out of place in this kind of company.
They were all his friends, but each had his own circle. There was no need to force himself in.
He could invite Wang Er for a drink alone next time.
"Come on, Eldest Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, Fourth Senior Brother, Sixth Senior Brother—let's drink!"
Li Beichen raised his cup and invited them all to join him.
They were all Grade Entry martial artists, every one of them powerfully built and bursting with muscle.
They drank with bold, unrestrained gusto.
It was Li Beichen's first time drinking with them like this.
Without even realizing it, they had grown closer.
Zhang Meng drained a bowl of wine and slapped his chest.
"Old Seven, remember what I told you? The Thirty-Six Guilds are one big web."
"Our Like-Elephant Martial Hall is a web, too. Now that you've joined the Inner Courtyard, you're part of it."
"Whatever you do, you can rely on this web to catch you if you fall."
"As your Eldest Senior Brother, I, Zhang Meng, will catch you whenever I can."
"And even if I can't, Master will step in."
Li Beichen had always thought Zhang Meng was no simple brute. Though he seemed reckless, he was shrewd beneath the surface, and these words made his meaning perfectly clear.
He thought it over, then returned Zhang Meng's toast with a bowl of wine.
"Eldest Senior Brother, I think I understand."
"Haha! No matter if you don't understand it all yet. Spend more time with us, and you'll figure it out soon enough!"
After drinking for a while, Li Beichen rose from his seat.
"Brothers, my belly's full. I'll be right back. Keep drinking!"
"All right, go ahead!"
The moon shone bright.
Li Beichen headed toward the latrine beside Hundred Flowers Pavilion.
Then he turned and slipped into another alley.
Through this alley and across two more streets lay the direction of Market Ward.
On the street, a peddler selling masks was getting ready to close up shop.
He bent down to pack his things. When he stood back up, one of the Tiger-Head Masks was gone from his stall.
In its place were five copper coins.
"Hey... you're short five coins! The Tiger-Head Mask costs ten!"
But the customer was nowhere to be seen.
A moment later, a man wearing a Tiger-Head Mask appeared downstairs at the Meat Trade Association.
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