Tracking

"Poison? When did you..."

The tall, thin man's expression shifted to one of horror as he instantly realized the source of the dizziness in his mind.

He jerked his head up, staring at Lin Qing's calm face, his eyes filled with shock.

"Ah! This is infuriating!!"

He let out an angry roar, attempting to gather his remaining blood-energy for a desperate, final strike.

But a wave of intense dizziness washed over his brain, his vision blackened, and his limbs felt as heavy as if they had been filled with lead.

The powder of the Seven-Step Smiling Madness was extremely fine, hidden by Lin Qing between his fingers.

During their previous fierce collision of fists and blades, the impact had caused the opponent's blood-energy to fluctuate.

Taking advantage of the moment his pores dilated, Lin Qing had used the force of the collision to silently coat the man's skin and clothing with the toxin.

Following the man's subsequent frantic, life-or-death assault, his blood-energy had accelerated.

The poison had long since seeped through his pores and minor wounds, invading his entire body.

"Thud!"

The tall, thin man could no longer hold himself up; his knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the ground, his horizontal blade dropping from his hand.

He clawed at his own throat, as if desperate to breathe.

Purple-black veins had already spread from his neck up to his cheeks, making his entire face look hideous and terrifying.

His body convulsed violently, the light in his eyes fading rapidly until he finally went completely limp, a look of relief etched onto his face as he fell silent forever.

Lin Qing stood where he was, panting slightly, and observed vigilantly for a moment to confirm that the opponent had died from the poison.

He walked over to the corpse and, without the slightest hesitation, picked up the horizontal blade and thrust it directly into the man's neck.

Puchi!

The blade sank into flesh.

Only after confirming there was absolutely no possibility of the man surviving did Lin Qing retract the blade and let out a long sigh of relief.

A wave of intense exhaustion washed over him.

It was not entirely physical; it was more the relaxation that followed a period of extreme mental tension.

"This world is far too dangerous."

He muttered to himself, looking down at the corpse.

There was no joy in his heart from having killed; only a heavy sense of urgency.

"I merely came to the Black Market and was already targeted for robbery. If I hadn't had these preparations and hidden cards, I would be the one dead today."

"I, with the strength of the First Barrier Realm, managed to kill a combat-hardened martial artist of the Second Barrier Realm."

"This proves that my preparations were not in vain."

Lin Qing pondered cautiously.

This tall, thin man was the strongest opponent he had encountered thus far.

In this chaotic world of martial arts, one could never be too careful or have too many hidden cards.

After resting for a moment, he began to clean up the scene.

First, he searched for spoils of war.

From the tall, thin man's body, he pulled out a bulging money pouch containing several dozen taels of silver—far wealthier than his own impoverished brother.

In addition, there was a palm-sized token that felt icy to the touch.

The token was crafted from an unknown metal, pitch-black and heavy in the hand.

On the front, three archaic characters were engraved in a flowing, dragon-like script: Ge Pao Society.

On the back was a numerical designation: Number 79.

"Ge Pao Society?"

Lin Qing gripped the black iron token, his brows furrowed.

He had never heard the name of this organization before.

However, judging by the quality of the token and the serial number, this was clearly not a loose, small-time gang.

It was a force with a strict, hierarchical structure.

Both Liu Xiaodao and his brother used the Wave-Breaking Blade Technique.

Could this blade technique be related to the Ge Pao Society they belonged to?

"It seems that after I return, I must find a way to gather intelligence on this Ge Pao Society."

"If it turns out to be a troublesome faction, I'll be able to respond in time."

Lin Qing carefully stowed away the token and silver, then meticulously cleaned up the scene, erasing every trace of the struggle as best he could.

Finally, he dragged the corpse into a hidden natural crevice in the rocks and covered it thoroughly with withered branches and fallen leaves.

By the time he finished, the day was already growing late.

He shouldered the bulging pack of medicinal herbs, identified his direction, and quickened his pace toward Qingping County.

Lin Qing sprinted the entire way, pushing his speed to the absolute limit.

It was only when the low silhouette of the Qingping County walls came into view that he slowed his pace slightly.

Yet, that sensation of being watched from the shadows—like needles pricking his back—arose abruptly the moment he entered the city.

It clung to him like a festering sore, faint yet persistent, refusing to dissipate.

His heart grew heavy.

Once might be a coincidence, but twice? That is likely not.

He pondered to himself, certain that he had truly been targeted.

Moreover, the person on his tail was an expert at tracking.

The enemy is in the dark while I am in the light; this is a grave disadvantage.

He returned home to drop off the herb pack, then stepped out of the pharmacy again, wandering through the city as if aimlessly.

He first bought daily necessities like oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar at a few general stores, then stopped by a clothing shop to pick out two sets of plain, spare garments.

Finally, he ducked into a bustling, crowded tavern.

Lin Qing chose a window seat on the second floor, ordering a few small dishes and a pot of cloudy wine.

He appeared to be leisurely observing the street scene below, but in reality, the corner of his eye was calmly scanning the interior and exterior of the tavern.

Before long, a figure caught his attention.

It was a man dressed in faded, coarse cloth short-garb, wearing a tattered bamboo hat, looking for all the world like an ordinary old farmer.

He was squatting in front of a bamboo-ware stall across the street, seemingly picking out items, but the gaze beneath that hat flickered toward the tavern from time to time.

Lin Qing remembered clearly that he had caught a glimpse of a similarly dressed figure outside a general store earlier.

Near the clothing shop, there had also seemed to be such a person lingering not far away.

Once is a coincidence; twice is an accident.

This third time, it was certainly no accident.

Finally, you've shown your tail.

Lin Qing's heart sank, but his expression remained calm as he continued to eat his meal at a measured pace.

He pricked up his ears, listening intently to the conversations of the patrons in the tavern, hoping to hear some clues regarding the Ge Pao Society.

However, the noisy chatter was mostly about the war in the northern border, the skyrocketing price of grain, or local gossip.

There was no information whatsoever related to the Ge Pao Society.

After finishing his meal, he paid the bill and went downstairs.

Lin Qing deliberately circled the streets a few more times.

He even went to a bookstore and spent a long while flipping through idle books.

The figure of the old farmer always appeared in some corner of his field of vision, neither too close nor too far, his tracking skills extremely sophisticated.

Had Lin Qing not been cautious and vigilant, he likely would never have noticed him.

The probing was complete.

Lin Qing delayed no longer and headed straight back to Benevolent World Hall on Yongning Street.

He continued to show no signs of abnormality, joking and laughing with his sister Lin Wan as usual while helping to organize the herbs.

He acted as if he were completely unaware that he was being watched.

The next three days passed in peace and quiet.

Business at Benevolent World Hall remained brisk, and Lin Qing traveled between the martial arts hall and the pharmacy every day, training diligently as if everything were normal.

However, that feeling of being watched had not vanished; it had merely become more covert.

Lin Qing knew clearly that the other party was scouting, trying to map out his daily routine.

But he had not been idle these past few days.

He had secretly embedded poison-tipped spikes into the courtyard walls and even placed warning bells and toxic powder at the entrance.

Yet, simply waiting like this was, in the end, no solution.