Three days later, Chen Jianghe stood in the middle of the small courtyard, giving his gear one last check.
He had changed into a dark gray, coarse-cloth outfit with short sleeves. Hemp cord bound his cuffs and trouser legs tight, making it easier to move through the woods.
His waterskin and saber were securely fastened at his waist, and a pair of Brass Knuckles lay hidden against his chest. Two specially made cloth pouches hung at his sides—one held lime powder, the other dried rations.
"Are you really going?" Su Derong's voice came from behind him, unusually grave.
Chen Jianghe turned and saw him holding a palm-sized celadon bottle.
"Senior Brother."
"Take this." Su Derong handed him the bottle, lowering his voice. "Jianghe, this Bone-Corroding Powder is no joke. One drop of blood and it kills; touch it to skin and the flesh rots. I kept it for self-defense. You... use it with caution."
"Senior Brother," Chen Jianghe interrupted, his voice calm. "You know better than I do what Black Wind Ridge is like now. If the Green Dragon Guard surrounds and hunts me, or I run into a vicious beast, ordinary methods might not be enough."
Su Derong stared at him for a long while, then finally sighed. "It's the only bottle I have, so use it sparingly. Remember, don't let any get on you. Only use it if you're truly out of options."
"I know."
Su Derong's brow furrowed, but he still couldn't help worrying. "You've mastered Dark Strength, but two fists can't fight off four hands. If you run into a patrol, avoid them if you can. Don't be reckless."
"I understand." Chen Jianghe nodded. "I'm only going to look around the outer perimeter, hunt a few ordinary beasts, gather some herbs, and come back."
Su Derong watched him for a long while, then suddenly sighed. "Fine. You're levelheaded, so I won't lecture you. That's just how the world is now... Go early and come back soon."
Just then, the courtyard door creaked open.
Li Chengyue shuffled out in his slippers, a wine gourd in hand. He still wore the same grease-stained gray jacket, and his hair was a mess.
He came up beside Chen Jianghe, glanced at the bulging pouch at his waist, then looked at Su Derong and snorted through his nose.
"What are you dragging your feet for? If you're going, then go. Stop fussing like an old woman."
Chen Jianghe bowed. "Master, this disciple will set out now."
"Wait." Li Chengyue stopped him. "Have you memorized the map?"
"I have."
Li Chengyue took a swig of wine. His eyes were murky, but his tone was grave. "Remember, avoid trouble if you can. If you really can't... strike cleanly. Leave no survivors."
"This disciple will remember."
Li Chengyue said no more. He waved a hand, turned around, and shuffled back to the martial arts school.
Three days later, Chen Jianghe stood on a ridge in the outer reaches of Black Wind Ridge.
He crouched low behind a thick patch of bushes, slowly surveying the valley below.
The sight before him made his heart sink.
At the valley entrance, what had once been a dirt road barely wide enough for carts had been completely transformed.
A barricade of rough-hewn logs stretched across the road, with a pitch-black banner planted atop it. A ferocious Green Dragon was embroidered on the fabric, claws bared.
Eight men in black, close-fitting outfits stood beneath the banner. Every one of them wore a saber at his waist, had a sharp gaze, and carried himself with a steady, restrained air. All of them had Bright Strength.
And that was only what he could see.
Chen Jianghe's pupils contracted slightly as his gaze shifted to the woods on either side.
Between the shifting shadows of the trees, he could make out more figures in black.
They moved in groups of three, with a guard posted every five paces, repeatedly patrolling the various trails leading into the ridge.
They moved with light, nimble steps. Clearly martial artists. They were not as formidable as the eight at the barricade, but they were no ordinary gang members, either.
Farther away, flashes of light occasionally glinted from several high points—copper mirrors, used to keep watch and send signals.
"What tight security..." Chen Jianghe thought, his heart sinking.
The Green Dragon Gang's grip on Black Wind Ridge was even tighter than he had expected.
Forget a large force—even a lone martial artist trying to sneak in without a sound would find it harder than climbing to heaven.
He remained hidden and watched carefully.
After half an hour, he finally figured out some of their patterns.
The patrols crossed paths every two quarters of an hour, following fixed routes.
The checkpoint's inspections were extremely strict. Anyone entering the ridge—whether martial arts school disciples traveling in groups, Escort Guards from escort agencies, or lone herb gatherers—had to show a Hunting Token and pay the so-called Mountain Entry Tax.
Chen Jianghe watched as a group of around ten martial artists was stopped.
The burly man at their head had a face full of coarse flesh and nine disciples with Bright Strength behind him. He looked like an instructor at some martial arts school.
"The rules have changed!" The Green Dragon Guard officer at the checkpoint was a scar-faced man. "Seven taels per person. Ten of you, so that's seventy taels."
"Seventy taels?!" The burly man glared. "Last month it was three taels per person!"
"Last month was last month." Scarface sneered. "Black Wind Ridge belongs to the Green Dragon Gang now. Think it's too expensive? Fine. Turn around and go home."
The burly man's face turned ashen, and the disciples behind him began to stir.
But at the sight of the eight Green Dragon Guards glaring menacingly behind the barricade, and the patrols appearing and disappearing among the woods on either side, the burly man finally gritted his teeth. He pulled a bag of silver from his chest, counted it for a long while, then added some loose silver and copper coins until he had just enough.
Scarface weighed the bag, then waved them through, satisfied.
The group of martial artists entered the ridge with their heads bowed, their backs radiating humiliation.
Chen Jianghe watched in silence, weighing the situation.
Seven taels per person. It was practically daylight robbery.
And yet, martial artists still gritted their teeth and paid to enter the mountain.
The Outer City's resources were nearly exhausted. If the martial arts schools didn't risk a trip into the mountains, they would run out of food, and their disciples would scatter.
In troubled times, the weak didn't even have the right to choose how they were exploited.
He looked no longer and quietly moved northeast, using the bushes and scattered rocks for cover.
On the map Li Chengyue had given him, a thin green line marked the northeast corner: a hidden trail.
An incense stick's time later, Chen Jianghe stopped before a sheer cliff.
The cliff rose more than ten zhang, nearly vertical, with sparse bushes and moss growing in its cracks. Far below, a mountain stream roared by.
From the front, there seemed to be no way across the cliff.
But following the map's directions, Chen Jianghe circled around to the side and found a narrow fissure behind a thick cluster of vines.
It was just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. Darkness and dampness filled the passage, and a chill breeze blew faintly from within.
Chen Jianghe took a deep breath and squeezed inside sideways.
The passage was dim. He proceeded cautiously, listening in all directions and watching every corner.
After about a hundred paces, a faint light appeared ahead.
Chen Jianghe slowed and crouched in the shadows by the exit, peering outside.
He had made it.
Chen Jianghe went another seven or eight li before stopping beneath a sheltered cliff face.
The place was hidden, with rocks on three sides and only one narrow opening to enter. Inside, however, it opened into a natural cave about two zhang square.
A crack in the ceiling let in daylight, barely enough to make out shapes.
The ground was dry, with some dead grass scattered over it. It seemed that wild animals had once lived here.
"This will do."
Chen Jianghe carefully inspected the cave and its surroundings. Only after confirming there was no danger did he set down his pack.
After putting his things in order, he set up several simple warning traps at the entrance.
A fine vine tripline was connected to a string of dry branches. The slightest disturbance would make them rustle faintly.
Only after he had finished did he sit cross-legged and chew half a flatbread with some fresh water.
After resting a while, he got back to his feet and left the cave.
His goal wasn't to hunt a beast. Having just arrived, he needed to familiarize himself with the area and hone his wilderness survival skills.