Lime Martial Saint

The night was bright with stars and sparse with clouds.

Mountain-Back Village.

Mountain Gang outpost.

Several villagers worked with their sleeves rolled up, long blades slicing open the bellies of prey to drain the blood, iron tongs tearing off thick animal hides, and after rubbing in coarse salt and spices for curing, they nimbly moved the meat into the warehouse.

A few Mountain Gang lackeys stood by, watching the villagers to ensure they didn't slack off, while unable to stop themselves from glancing at He Xiuyong by the campfire.

Beside his feet sat half a jar of strong liquor, and in his hand, he gripped a piece of beast leg roasted to a charred fragrance, his mouth glistening with grease.

The lackeys' throats bobbed as they quietly swallowed their saliva, their eyes filled with cravings.

He Xiuyong had long since noticed these gazes.

He picked up a piece of roasted meat and shoved it into his mouth, deliberately smacking his lips as he ate.

Scanning the envious expressions of the crowd from the corner of his eye, a faint smile curled at the corners of his lips.

He didn't shout to stop them, because he thoroughly enjoyed this feeling of being envied.

A short while later.

"My lord, today's catch has been processed."

He Xiuyong wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand; the wine jar had long since hit the bottom.

He nodded nonchalantly, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction:

"Mn, tidy everything up and disperse."

With that, He Xiuyong stood up, stretched his back, and with his hands behind him, strolled out of the courtyard.

The moment He Xiuyong stepped out of the courtyard, the few Mountain Gang lackeys instantly lost all restraint.

They moved with light steps, crowding around and heading straight for the stone table.

Some reached out to grab the remaining half-plate of roasted beast meat, while others picked up clean chopsticks to snatch the scraps left on the plate.

Chopsticks clattered against the porcelain plate, creating a crisp, rhythmic sound.

Everyone moved with agility, fearing that if they were too slow, they wouldn't get a taste of the fresh meat.

Chewing the meat, someone muttered vaguely:

"This meat is roasted truly authentically."

"Take less, let me have a taste too."

Before long, the leftovers on the table were completely divided and devoured.

He Xiuyong, full of food and wine, walked with a slightly unsteady gait, his body wrapped in the scent of alcohol and roasted meat, as he swayed back to the middle courtyard of the Mountain Gang outpost.

He raised a hand to push open the wooden door, a frivolous smile on his face:

"Little lady, Master He has returned; why don't you hurry up and come forward to welcome me?"

The room was dimly lit, with only a single oil lamp placed on the desk.

A woman with delicate features sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clutching the corners of her clothes. When she lifted her eyes to look at He Xiuyong, her gaze was filled with an inconsolable sorrow.

Her body remained still; she neither stood up nor responded.

Seeing her lack of cooperation, the smile on He Xiuyong's face vanished instantly. His brows furrowed, his face darkened, and his tone turned several degrees colder:

"Qian Qiuqiao, who are you putting on that sour face for?

Do you dare to give me attitude?"

Qian Qiuqiao's shoulders trembled slightly, her voice carrying an irrepressible sob:

"I wouldn't dare give you attitude, my lord.

It's just... it's just that my three younger brothers have been missing for over half a year.

To this day, there is no sign of them alive or dead.

As their older sister, I worry day and night, and I truly cannot find peace in my heart, nor can I force a smile on my face."

Speaking of this matter, He Xiuyong was also filled with frustration.

He had used all his connections and searched for so long, yet he hadn't been able to find Li Yun.

Could this brat fly?

How could He Xiuyong know that after Li Yun joined the Subduing Tiger Martial Hall, he spent his days practicing martial arts there.

He hadn't stepped out even half a step.

Recently, although he had taken a part-time job escorting goods for the meat trade, he did so during the hours of the Tiger and the Rabbit.

Even when he sold the deer antlers back then, he had chosen newly opened shops.

Moreover, on the way to the martial hall, he always tried his best to walk through small alleys to avoid the crowds.

He wouldn't dare say his actions were flawless, but for a small-time leader like He Xiuyong, the difficulty of finding Li Yun was far from ordinary.

As time passed, He Xiuyong gradually gave up on the matter.

"Hmph."

Seeing that Qian Qiuqiao still wouldn't cooperate, He Xiuyong, feeling a bit hot-headed, couldn't care less.

He walked over and took what he wanted by force.

The night grew deeper.

The campfire at the Mountain Gang outpost burned down to embers, the occasional crackle of sparks fading into silence.

The chirping of insects in the distant forest intertwined, making the courtyard feel even quieter, to the point where the sound of the wind brushing against the shacks was clearly audible.

Just then, a black shadow moved outside the courtyard wall.

The figure was exceptionally agile, using a low tree on the wall for leverage, toes tapping against the brickwork to vault over as lightly as a tiger.

He landed without making a sound, quickly blending into the shadows.

Not long after.

A flash of fire suddenly erupted from the direction of the warehouse.

At first, it was just a weak flame, but in the blink of an eye, it spread with the night wind, the inferno surging upward as thick smoke billowed into the air.

The gang member on night watch, who had just been dozing off in a corner, caught sight of the fire and shuddered, scrambling toward the gong stand.

He grabbed the wooden mallet and struck it frantically, screaming at the top of his lungs in a panic:

"Fire! There's a fire!!"

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The urgent, ear-piercing sound of the gong instantly shattered the silence of the compound.

The sleeping gang members were jolted awake, rushing out of their shacks in disarray, descending into chaos.

He Xiuyong, who had been "working out" hard, had only just hit the bed and was fast asleep.

The sound of the gong and the shouting dragged him awake, and he bolted upright from the bed, his eyes filled with fury.

He cursed while grabbing the outer robe draped over the head of his bed:

"Damn it!

Which blind fool dares to neglect their duty?

If I catch them, I'll skin them alive!"

He Xiuyong put on his clothes as he walked toward the door.

The moment he opened it, a cloud of white dust exploded in his face.

The powder instantly coated his face, drilling into his nostrils and stinging his eyes.

He instinctively squinted, his eyes feeling as if they were on fire.

Through the blur, he saw a figure lunging toward him.

This person was none other than Li Yun.

He Xiuyong was like a thorn stuck in his throat; it wouldn't be satisfying until it was pulled out.

At first, the two sides had lived in peace.

Half a year ago, the Qian Brothers had come to cause him trouble, and it must have been with He Xiuyong's nod.

Otherwise, such a situation could not have occurred.

As for why, Li Yun didn't understand.

If he couldn't figure it out, he wouldn't bother.

Solve the source of the trouble directly, and there would be no more trouble.

He opened with his ancestor's ultimate technique: throwing lime.

Then, he circulated his blood energy, the power rising from his feet, traveling through his legs, waist, shoulders, and arms, straight into his fist.

His form was like a tiger coiled to strike, unleashing the Fierce Tiger Pounces on Prey with lightning speed, his fist whistling through the air as it drove straight for He Xiuyong's chest.

He Xiuyong felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to his crown, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.

In his haste, there was no time to think; he hurriedly crossed his arms to protect his chest, only managing to muster five parts of his blood energy to resist.

Bang!

The dull thud sounded like a beating drum.

He Xiuyong's arms went numb, his chest feeling as if it had been struck by a boulder, his blood energy churning as it surged into his throat.

He was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the wooden table in the bedroom with a crack.

Between life and death, there is great terror.

He Xiuyong ignored the pain and, relying on his familiarity with the bedroom, rolled over to the side of the bed.

Ignoring Qian Qiuqiao's scream, he reached for the oil on the nightstand to rinse his eyes.

Li Yun, standing at the doorway, hadn't expected He Xiuyong to be so crafty.

He actually had oil on hand.

Instantly, he unleashed the Crouching Tiger Mountain Climbing Step, covering the distance in two strides. His figure shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, rushing straight toward He Xiuyong with ferocious speed.

Just moments ago, He Xiuyong had managed to block his fully powered strike despite being caught off guard.

He was clearly a cut above Zhuo Yong, whom he sparred with daily.

It was evident that by guarding Crow Mountain Pass and lining his own pockets, his vitality had become so abundant that he was only a single step away from cultivating Bright Force.

Strike while he is down, finish him off.

Li Yun slightly bent his arm, his fist already coiled with power once more.

He waited only to close the distance before unleashing another full-force blow.