Integration

When he arrived at the martial hall, Meng Juxiang was practicing beneath the rising sun.

Li Beichen stood quietly to one side.

He, too, practiced the Breathing Method of the Giant Elephant Fist.

When Meng Juxiang finished his training, Li Beichen handed him the silver.

"Master, this is the Meat Guild's compensation. Thank you for standing up for me."

"This silver was compensation for you. Why are you giving it to me?!"

The scar on Meng Juxiang's face twisted like a writhing centipede. Without turning around, he continued to face the rosy dawn, his expression solemn.

"Li Beichen, all you need to remember is that by the start of spring next year, you must meet the goal I set for you."

"Still, your fight to the death with Wu Ming shows that you've been practicing diligently and haven't slacked off. That's very good."

"As for that braised-food business of yours, transfer the share of the profits originally allotted to the Meat Guild to the martial hall. From now on, the martial hall will naturally have your back."

"Don't let these trivial matters delay your training!"

Li Beichen naturally understood Meng Juxiang's meaning. This was his way of protecting him.

With the martial hall as a shareholder, and Meng Juxiang's might as a Sixth Grade martial artist, they could protect not only the braised-food business in Ram City but even a brothel or gambling den that truly raked in gold by the day.

Li Beichen also knew that Meng Juxiang cared only about his progress in cultivation.

The more extraordinary his talent appeared, the more attention he would naturally receive.

Li Beichen guessed that recommending a genuine genius to the Giant Elephant Sect would greatly benefit Meng Juxiang himself as well.

He planned to reveal a little of his true cultivation progress.

"Master, your disciple can now strike ten successive echoes!"

At Li Beichen's words, Meng Juxiang, who had been standing bathed in the rosy light with a solemn expression, immediately turned around.

"Ten echoes?! Are you sure?!"

Li Beichen demonstrated at once.

His fists flew like a torrential storm. He struck ten times in succession, each punch exploding with the sound of wind and thunder.

When he finished, he withdrew his stance.

"Master, in terms of fist technique, I've only just reached the Threshold of Mastery in the Giant Elephant Fist. I'm still far from Mastery and Integration. I feel that ten echoes aren't the limit of what I can achieve in the Body-Refining Realm."

A rare smile appeared on Meng Juxiang's face.

"Your talent exceeds my expectations."

"That's right. Ten echoes is only the minimum standard for a Ninth Grade at the peak."

"Actually, among the true geniuses of the Giant Elephant Sect, some can reach fifty echoes, or even a hundred. According to legend, the Second Ancestor even reached a thousand."

"Li Beichen, focus on your training. If you keep up this pace, I believe that even when you join the Giant Elephant Sect next year, you won't be an obscure nobody!"

"Yes, Master!"

Li Beichen took Meng Juxiang's grand promise to heart.

With his talent, he truly had the confidence and ambition to climb to the highest heights of the martial world and take in the view.

Though Li Beichen was confident, he showed no sign of it.

Having lived two lifetimes, he had endured hardship from a young age in this one. Though he wasn't yet seventeen, his temperament was already steady.

He had truly learned to control himself and stay calm when faced with sudden changes.

Watching Li Beichen leave with an unchanged expression, neither arrogant nor impatient, a saying surfaced in Meng Juxiang's mind.

"He who holds thunder in his breast yet wears a face as placid as a lake may be appointed a great general!"

Meng Juxiang hadn't said how they would handle the martial hall's share of the braised-food business, but if there were any problems, Li Beichen knew he only had to find his eldest senior brother, Zhang Meng.

He had the martial hall's bookkeeper draw up the paperwork, pressed his fingerprint onto it, and then went to find Zhang Meng.

"Eldest Senior Brother, this is a twenty-percent stake in the braised-food business. The martial hall will hold it from now on."

Zhang Meng didn't even look at it. He pulled open an ordinary drawer that wasn't locked.

"Just put it inside."

The drawer already held a thick stack of similar contracts.

A glance at the top sheet caught Li Beichen's eye. The words "Datong Cloth Guild" were written across it.

It was one of the main members of Ram City's Cloth Guild.

A thought flashed through his mind.

"These Thirty-Six Guilds and the martial artists of Jinglong District really are tangled up with one another, each with a piece of the other. The word 'network' couldn't be more apt..."

Zhang Meng shut the drawer and raised his thick, dark brows.

"Old Seven, don't be fooled by that drawer full of contracts. In truth, they're completely useless."

He flexed a bicep as big as a small hill.

"It's all thanks to this!"

Li Beichen nodded, then asked another question.

"Eldest Senior Brother, the Thirty-Six Guilds must have their own pecking order, right?"

"Of course."

"The Meat Guild is a local trade association made up of butchers, butcher-shop owners, and the like. In terms of strength and status, it's at the bottom."

"Take the Tea Guild, which Second Brother joined. It's near the top among the Thirty-Six Guilds."

"Ram City doesn't produce tea. The tea merchants bring it here from all over the country. They even have a dedicated organization down in Jiangnan, the Tea Gang, whose power is far greater than that of the Meat Guild and the like."

As he spoke, Zhang Meng gave Li Beichen a pointed look.

"Unlike Zhou Zhongru. If you killed Yan Fu, the Tea Guild's president here in Ram City, that would be a real problem."

"If you left no evidence, that would be one thing. But if someone caught you in the act, even Master would have a hard time covering it up. He'd have no choice but to send you away to lie low."

Li Beichen considered this.

"So with the strength of our Like-Elephant Martial Hall, even if we killed the Tea Guild's president, we'd only have to lie low and let things cool down."

"Cough, cough, cough."

"You brat, the martial world isn't about fighting and killing. It's about human relationships and worldly wisdom."

"If you go around killing at the drop of a hat, who'll work with you? You'd be cutting yourself off from everyone. That won't do!"

"Eldest Senior Brother, you look fierce and invincible, but I never expected you to be such a steady, cautious man at heart."

Li Beichen understood this way of doing things, but he was alone in this world, with nothing tying him down. He would rather keep his grievances and debts clear and follow his own heart.

He didn't mind observing all these rules as long as they didn't cross his bottom line. In everyday matters, he was happy to get along and let others get along with him.

But what Li Beichen wanted wasn't to live timidly. He wanted to roam the martial world, free and unrestrained beneath heaven and earth.

But if anyone touched his scales, he would take justice from the edge of his blade.

As for martial artists—

He trusted only his fists.

Zhang Meng looked at Li Beichen's expression and realized the brat hadn't listened to a word. He clearly had no intention of following Zhang Meng's way of doing things.

"Go on, go on. Get to your morning practice."

At the same time, in another famous martial hall in Jinglong District—

Thunderbolt Martial Hall.

Mo Changkun stood respectfully before a middle-aged man.

He spoke in a low voice.

"Master, Wu Ming was an Attendant of the Meat Guild. He'd always been close to Zhou Zhongru and had taken care of plenty of shady business for him."

"This time, he was beaten to death in the Martial Arena by Meng Juxiang's seventh disciple."

"Zhou Zhongru was killed that very night."

"They say it was some unknown expert."

"There's no evidence, but anyone with eyes can see they did it."

"Killing those men would be bad enough, but then Meng Juxiang even sent this letter. The Like-Elephant Martial Hall is simply acting without the slightest restraint."

The middle-aged man looked imposing. A thick, faintly yellow beard covered his face, groomed with exquisite care and hanging all the way to his chest.

He looked just like a yellow lion.

He was none other than Huang Baitao, master of Thunderbolt Martial Hall.

He flicked his long beard, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Just wait. He won't be able to act so arrogantly for much longer."