The Web of Relationships

Li Beichen jumped down from the ring.

He took a white cloth and wiped the bloodstains from his hands.

It was all Wu Ming's blood.

As for him, only the five knuckles of his fist were slightly red and grazed, nothing more than a minor irritation.

This was merely the result of him using too much force and holding nothing back while throwing his punches.

They would be fully recovered in a couple of days.

If I had held back just a fraction of my strength, I still could have killed Wu Ming, and I wouldn't have even broken the skin on my hands...

Li Beichen summarized his gains and losses.

After finishing my training yesterday, my progress in Giant Elephant Fist was over three hundred and eighty. I wonder how much this bout improved it.

With a thought, he opened his proficiency panel.

[Technique: Giant Elephant Fist (Just Entered the Threshold)]
[Progress: (421/500)]
[Traits: Bright Force, Elephant Breath]
[Bright Force: Body and strength unite, fist exceeds a thousand catties]
[Elephant Breath: Breath is long and steady, stamina increased, explosive power increased]

It was already over four hundred and twenty!

A single fight had granted him over thirty points of progress.

In ten days at most, Giant Elephant Fist will reach the next realm.

Li Beichen thought to himself.

Just then, several muscular men in brocade robes parted the crowd like sharks and walked up to Li Beichen.

The most burly one among them looked Li Beichen up and down.

After confirming he was unharmed, he grinned, revealing white teeth.

"Seventh, it seems we arrived a step late; you've already finished the fight."

He patted Li Beichen on the shoulder and glanced at Wu Ming's corpse on the ring.

"Good lad, you beat a veteran Ninth-Grade martial artist to death with your bare hands. You didn't lose face for our Like-Elephant Martial Hall!"

"Senior Brother, I'll wait for you next time!"

Li Beichen looked at the group, the coldness on his face melting away to reveal a smile once more.

Except for Yuan Dazong and Fang Meiqin, all the other inner-court disciples had come to back him up.

This stirred a sense of warmth in Li Beichen's heart.

He cupped his fists in a salute.

"Many thanks, Senior Brothers."

At this moment, a dark-skinned, sturdy man carrying a Pig-Slaughtering Knife came rushing over, panting heavily.

It was Wang Er.

He approached and immediately asked, "Brother Beichen, are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, Brother Wang Er, catch your breath first."

Li Beichen could tell that Wang Er had run for two miles without stopping to get here.

"The culprit who smashed up our shop has already been dealt with by me."

"You don't need to worry; tell the staff to continue business as usual!"

Hearing these words from Li Beichen, the butcher revealed an honest, simple smile.

Wang Er's friendship was incredibly pure; he hadn't hesitated to grab his knife and come, even when facing a Ninth-Grade martial artist.

One had to remember, he still had an infant not yet a month old at home.

Although he had been played by Zhou Zhongru today, having a group of people like this who would rush over the moment they heard the news put Li Beichen in a good mood.

He looked at the group.

"My treat today! Rouge House, Hundred Flowers Pavilion—we won't go home until we're drunk!"

Before his voice had even faded, a sinister voice drifted over.

"You've killed a man, and you think you can just leave?"

Two men in brocade robes pushed through the crowd.

They blocked Li Beichen's path.

Li Beichen could clearly see the four characters "Thunderbolt Martial Hall" embroidered on their sleeves.

The man who spoke had a powerful aura, with a strange, dark luster flowing across his skin.

Li Beichen was no longer the novice who knew nothing about the martial path.

He knew this was a sign of the Seventh Grade Skin-Refining Realm.

However, he was not alone.

Behind him, Senior Brother Zhang Meng stepped forward, his eyes filled with mockery.

"Mo the Second, what's this? Does your Thunderbolt Martial Hall no longer recognize the rules of martial duels?"

Fourth Senior Brother Yang Ling whispered an introduction to Li Beichen from the side.

"This is Mo Changkun, the second-in-command of Thunderbolt Martial Hall. He's in the Seventh Grade Skin-Refining Realm, but don't worry, our Senior Brother can crush him."

"Counting it up, this Mo Changkun has been at Thunderbolt Martial Hall for over a decade, and Wu Ming was his loyal follower."

Li Beichen nodded as he watched Mo Changkun take a slight step back, even while still spouting threats.

"Zhang Meng, you've done it now. Killing someone from our Thunderbolt Martial Hall—this isn't over."

Zhang Meng stepped forward again, pressing his massive pectoral muscles right into Mo Changkun's face as he looked down at him.

"Wu Ming left Thunderbolt Martial Hall ten years ago, yet he's still considered one of your people?"

"What, is everyone you command automatically part of Thunderbolt Martial Hall?"

"Since when do you, Mo the Second, get to call the shots? I think I should have a chat with Lin Xiong about this."

Upon hearing Zhang Meng's words, Mo Changkun's expression shifted.

Seeing this, Zhang Meng showed a look of disdain and shoved him hard, causing Mo Changkun to stumble.

"Get out of my way. If you've got the guts, meet me on the martial duel stage."

At this, Mo Changkun was left completely humiliated.

He could only watch helplessly as Li Beichen, Zhang Meng, and the others walked away.

"What are you looking at? Get lost!"

Mo Changkun vented his anger on the surrounding commoners.

He kicked several passersby to the ground in succession.

The strong only challenge those who are stronger.

Only the weak turn their blades against the weak.

Rouge House, Hundred Flowers Pavilion.

Li Beichen and his senior brothers clinked their cups in a lively toast.

As for Wang Er, after two drinks, he excused himself, saying he was worried about his wife and children at home.

Li Beichen did not insist he stay.

He knew that in this atmosphere, Wang Er would only feel uneasy.

They were all his friends, but they had their own circles; there was no need to force them together.

He would simply invite Wang Er for a drink alone next time.

"Come, Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, Fourth Senior Brother, Sixth Senior Brother, bottoms up!"

Li Beichen raised his cup, inviting everyone to drink together.

They were all ranked martial artists, each with bulging, powerful muscles.

When they drank, they did so with boundless spirit.

This was the first time Li Beichen had gathered with them like this.

Unconsciously, their relationship grew closer.

Zhang Meng downed a bowl of wine and patted his chest.

"Seventh, do you remember what I told you before about the thirty-six trades being a giant web?"

"Our Like-Elephant Martial Hall is also a web. Since you've entered the inner courtyard, we are all on the same web."

"Whatever you do, you can use this web to catch you if you fall."

"As your Senior Brother, whatever I can handle, I will handle for you."

"Even if I can't, Master will step in."

Li Beichen had always felt that Zhang Meng was not simple; he appeared to be a brute, but he was actually meticulous. His meaning was clear.

Lost in thought, he returned the gesture and downed a bowl of wine with Zhang Meng.

"Senior Brother, this junior brother understands a little now."

"Haha, it's fine if you don't understand everything yet. We'll be spending plenty of time together, so it will all become clear eventually!"

Halfway through the drinking, Li Beichen stood up from the table.

"Senior brothers, this one's stomach is feeling a bit bloated. I'll be right back, please continue without me!"

"Alright, go ahead!"

The moonlight was bright and clear.

Li Beichen walked toward the latrine beside the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.

Then, with a sharp turn, he ducked into a different alleyway.

Passing through this alley and crossing two more streets would lead him in the direction of the Market Ward.

On the street, a vendor selling masks was preparing to close up shop.

He lowered his head to pack his things, but when he stood back up, he noticed a tiger-head mask was missing from his stall.

In its place lay five copper coins.

"Hey... that's not enough money. The tiger-head mask costs ten coins!"

But there was no one left to be found.

A moment later, a figure wearing a tiger-head mask appeared beneath the building of the Meat Trade Association.