He sighed and stopped pressing for details about the fighting. Instead, he said to Zhang Shun, "Brother Shun, please keep an eye out for me. If you hear anything about the front lines, especially news from You Province, good or bad, please let me know."
Zhang Shun patted him on the shoulder and answered solemnly, "Don't worry, Junior Brother Lin. If I hear anything, I'll tell you at the first opportunity."
Having entered the Skin Refining Realm and brought Iron Wire Fist to the height of perfection, Lin Qing could clearly feel his strength growing.
His qi and blood brimmed with vitality, his skin was tough, and power surged through his fists and feet. He was far stronger than before.
However, after sparring with his senior brothers at the martial hall and experiencing the dangers of that night at the docks,
one thought had never left his mind: fist and foot techniques were ultimately fighting skills meant to be used in the open.
Once someone figured out his moves, or he ran into a desperate man with a blade, he would be at a disadvantage.
He remembered a common close-combat weapon from his previous life: brass knuckles.
They had a simple design, yet could greatly increase the destructive power of a punch. They were especially suited to a fierce, forceful style like Iron Wire Fist, and were inconspicuous when worn. At a critical moment, they could catch an opponent completely off guard.
But in the Great Shun Dynasty, blacksmiths had to register all standard weapons they forged, such as swords and sabers, with the authorities.
Privately forging weapons was a serious crime.
Though brass knuckles weren't swords or sabers, their lethality was not to be underestimated. Asking a blacksmith to make them openly carried considerable risk.
After thinking it over, Lin Qing remembered a place his father, Lin Qing, had once mentioned in passing.
Twenty li southwest of Qingping County, beneath an abandoned brick kiln, there was a Black Market.
His father had practiced medicine and gathered herbs in his day, coming into contact with all sorts of people. Once, he had visited the place in search of a rare medicinal herb.
When he returned, he had strictly forbidden Lin Qing from going near it, only briefly mentioning how to get inside and what token was required.
Now that he himself had reached the First Barrier Realm and had some strength to rely on, he decided to take a look.
Relying on his memory, he drew a detailed diagram of the brass knuckles. He added a sharp blade at the tip and specified that they be forged from refined iron, with their edges sharpened.
He named this slightly modified weapon the Kirin Spike.
The next day, he told his older sister he was going on a trip.
Then he left early. Once he was out of the city, he saw many young masters and ladies dressed in brocade robes and riding tall horses, heading away amid crowds of attendants.
Along the road, he also saw many displaced people setting up makeshift shelters and making porridge over fires with their children beside them.
But the porridge in their pots was little more than clear water and wild greens. There were hardly any grains of rice in it.
The world was in turmoil everywhere. Whenever disaster struck, most people had no choice but to abandon their homes and flee.
In a secluded patch of woods, Lin Qing changed his clothes.
He covered his face with black cloth and changed into a slightly worn tunic.
He proceeded with caution, avoiding the main road.
There were other ragged passersby along the way, most of them watching everyone with wary eyes.
After nearly an hour, following his father's vague directions, Lin Qing found the abandoned brick kiln, overgrown with weeds and its chambers collapsed.
There were clearly many more masked people along the way now, hurrying along with swords or sabers at their waists, wary of one another.
Following the flow of people, Lin Qing came to the side of a kiln that appeared to have completely collapsed.
He pushed aside the dense vines. Beyond them lay a broad earthen path leading underground.
Lin Qing proceeded carefully. Many people passed him in the narrow way, but none spoke to one another.
Soon, an underground kiln chamber, hollowed out by hand, came into view.
It covered a vast area, perhaps several thousand square meters.
The space was brightly lit and filled with moving figures, yet it was not noisy.
A burly gatekeeper stood at the entrance and stretched out an arm to stop him.
"To enter the Black Market, you need to pay a hundred copper coins."
"Understood."
Lin Qing counted out a hundred coins and handed them over.
The man accepted them and tossed him a wooden token.
"When you leave, give me the token. If you don't have it, you'll have to pay another hundred coins."
"Mm." Lin Qing nodded and put the token away.
Inside the Black Market, crude stalls lined both sides, along with small booths screened off by cloth curtains. They sold all manner of goods.
There were gleaming standard-issue bows, crossbows, and arrows, even leather armor.
There were also so-called potent medicines that gave off a strong medicinal smell.
Manuals of martial arts, pills, and other such things were not uncommon either.
But few of the goods here had clear prices.
Most of the stallholders had shifty, shrewd eyes.
Lin Qing felt a chill in his heart. Just as his father had said, this was a place beyond the law, a den of snakes and dragons.
As he walked along, people kept approaching him to make hushed offers.
"Take a look at this fragment of Golden Bell Cover, young man?"
"Once you master it, blades and spears can't hurt you!"
"Brother, fresh in from the Northern Border Strong Bow! Three-stone draw, and it'll pierce a willow leaf from a hundred paces!"
"I've got a secret medicine from the palace. It'll make you virile and vigorous, and keep your spear standing tall..."
Lin Qing kept his eyes forward, sometimes giving a slight shake of his head and sometimes simply ignoring them.
He knew these people were all shrewd operators, fluent in all kinds of trade jargon and coded slang.
If he rashly responded or asked too many questions, it would be easy to expose himself as a newcomer. Then he might be picked clean to the bone.
Before long, he found a blacksmith's shop in a corner of the Black Market.
The shop was small, and the furnace blazed brightly.
A muscular man with a bare chest and burn scars on his face silently hammered a glowing piece of iron. The clang of metal rang out.
Judging by his face, Lin Qing guessed that the man had once been a slave. Somehow, he had escaped and destroyed his slave brand himself.
Aside from killing his master's entire family, Lin Qing couldn't think of any other way.
He had intended to look for another blacksmith's shop, but this seemed to be the only one in the Black Market.
With no other choice, Lin Qing waited for the man to finish his work.
Only then did he step forward and ask in a lowered voice, "Master, do you take custom orders?"
The burly man raised his head and swept his cloudy eyes over Lin Qing. His voice was hoarse. "Let me see it."
Lin Qing handed over the diagram he had drawn for the Kirin Spike.
The burly man took it and studied it carefully. A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes; he had clearly never seen a weapon with this kind of design.
After pondering for a moment, he held out a hand as broad as a palm-leaf fan. "Refined iron, sharpened edges. The materials aren't expensive, but it'll take a fair bit of work."
"Five taels up front, five when it's done. Come back at this time in ten days to collect it."
Ten taels of silver was far more than an ordinary iron tool would cost.
But Lin Qing knew there was no room for haggling here, and this thing really would take a lot of work.
He readily took out five taels in silver and placed them in the man's hand. "Deal."
After paying and handing over the diagram, Lin Qing felt a little more at ease.
He began wandering around the Black Market.
The pharmacy's monthly profits seemed substantial.
But they were still a drop in the bucket compared to the tens or even hundreds of taels needed to buy martial arts manuals or strong bows and crossbows, or to pay for medicinal baths to temper his body and advance further.
He had to find a faster way to make money.
His attention was drawn mostly to the stalls selling medicinal herbs.
Some of the Black Market's herbs had been obtained through shady channels, while others were rare finds gathered by mountain folk who didn't know their value. They were a mixed bag.
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