Hong Shou's Study

Before long, Han Zhong appeared in Li Xiang's courtyard. He bent down and pinched up a handful of soil from the crimson ground, his eyes widening slightly. "The third layer of Bell-Tolling Crimson Ground? Who in the village broke through to the third layer? Could it be Wu Feng?"

He straightened, his usual gentle smile gone, his face dark and grim. "It seems the plan must change. If we let these little vermin keep hopping about, they might truly ruin what comes later."

"Still, it's a pity to lose one chess piece..." Han Zhong rubbed his chin as he pondered. "Which one should I choose as the next piece, then?"

With that, he slowly walked to the door, intending to enter and inspect Li Xiang's home.

Suddenly, a wail of anguished sobbing came from inside.

The cry was so shrill, as though liver and guts had been torn apart, a pain that pierced the heart.

It turned out that, affected by the bell toll, Li Xiang's head had throbbed and he had awakened early. But at the first sight of his wife's miserable state, the towering waves of grief and agony completely crushed his consciousness. Bloody tears burst from his eyes as he clutched his wife's corpse and wept in utter despair.

Hearing the crying, Han Zhong frowned. An inexplicable irritation rose within him. He raised one hand slightly and slowly approached, intending to send Li Xiang to his death and eliminate future trouble.

Then, his ear twitched. The impatience on his face vanished, replaced by an expression of compassion for all beneath heaven.

Bang!

The gates were kicked open. A group of nearby martial academy disciples and villagers filed in, warily sweeping their gazes across the courtyard. At the sight of the place where not a blade of grass remained, all of them were struck speechless.

Seeing Han Zhong there, Mao Chen and Li Zhi ran up to him.

"Senior Brother, this..."

"Shh..."

Han Zhong's expression was somber as he pointed inside.

The two craned their heads to look. When they saw what was inside, they both sighed.

"Was this the work of something strange?"

Li Zhi's face was grave as he looked toward Han Zhong.

"Alas, I arrived too late." Han Zhong nodded with a sigh, his face full of self-reproach. "Don't disturb him. Let him have a good cry."

Mao Chen nodded in sympathy and consoled him, "Senior Brother, you've already done very well. Didn't you deal with the strange thing? In a sense, you saved Uncle Li Xiang too, didn't you?"

Han Zhong froze at those words, but Li Zhi suspiciously asked, "Senior Brother, did you break through to the third layer?"

"Of course he did." Without a second thought, Mao Chen said with immense admiration for Han Zhong, "Master isn't here right now. Who else in the village could break through to the third layer and use Bell-Tolling Crimson Ground? Use your head for once."

"What does breaking through to the third layer matter? I still failed to prevent the tragedy." Han Zhong did not care in the slightest, showing no trace of pride.

Yet those words were tantamount to telling them that he had indeed caused the earlier commotion—that he had broken through to the third layer and beaten the strange thing to death.

This made Mao Chen admire him even more, while Li Zhi, unusually, put away his lazy demeanor.

Before long, the villagers and martial academy disciples who had rushed over also learned what had happened, and all of them lavishly praised Han Zhong.

"The student surpasses the master—Master Hong has a worthy successor."

"Hehe, I knew that Han lad was no ordinary fellow. See? I wasn't wrong. He actually killed a strange thing. Truly remarkable."

"Big Brother Han, the village's safety depends on you!"

They crowded around Han Zhong, showering him with flattery.

They had completely forgotten Li Xiang inside, crying his heart out.

Han Zhong merely gave them a bitter smile and accepted their praise with a clear conscience.

Meanwhile, Chu He, entirely unaware of this, tossed and turned sleeplessly. To ease the vexation in his heart, he practiced his fists through the night.

Early the next morning.

Black clouds pressed down upon the sky as a cold rain drizzled without end.

The sudden overcast rain washed away the smoke that had filled the sky.

The village was silent, bleak and deserted.

Inside the house, Chu He's body was like a furnace, mist steaming from all over him, his hands covered in wounds.

"Just a little more, just a little more!"

On the back of his swollen hand, five faint blood lines clung to it like dragon-and-serpent sinews, radiating a fierce aura.

Bloodshot veins spread through his eyes as he forcefully exhaled a mouthful of turbid air.

With a thought, he summoned the modifier panel.

[Chu He]

[Martial Art: Golden Bell Shield (Second Layer)]

[Energy: 8]

Yesterday, he had gained five points of energy from Liu Ci. The remaining three had been provided by the shadow. Unfortunately, he had left in too much of a hurry last night and had not had time to search the Land God statue, losing out on two points of potential gain.

He now had eight energy points in total. As long as he got started with Red Line Fist, he could immediately push it to the second layer, greatly increasing his strength.

"I just don't know how chaotic things will become over the next few days."

Sitting on the bed, Chu He knew that the village chief and Han Zhong might be carrying out some mysterious plan, and that the village was growing increasingly dangerous. For a moment, he had the urge to flee the village.

With his current strength, able to project his qi and blood outward, leaving the village would not be a problem at all.

But where would he go after leaving?

"To be safe, I still need to find a map." After pondering for a moment, Chu He made up his mind. "Master's room definitely has a map. I'll look for one when the time comes."

With a plan in mind, he leaned against the headboard and dozed for a while.

Near noon, Chu He casually dealt with a meal, hastily filling his stomach. As his strength grew, his appetite had surged; he now needed half a basin of food just to eat his fill.

He had truly become a rice bucket.

The sky was dim, fine rain drifting through the air, and the small path outside the courtyard had long turned into a muddy mess.

Fortunately, Hong Shou's home was not far from Chu He's. Most of the way was paved with cobblestones. He put on the straw rain cape hanging on the wall and took up the iron saber wrapped in leather.

He gently stroked the rough hilt. This was the most valuable thing he possessed now. From his memories, he knew that this long saber had been left behind by his father before his death. Afterward, he had kept the iron saber hidden beneath the bed.

He had rushed back yesterday precisely for this long saber.

In the past, strange things had not appeared, and people's hearts had not revealed themselves. This sharp weapon had no place to be used. But now, it was time to properly hone its edge.

Tap, tap, tap...

Through the dense curtain of rain, leaping over puddles of unknown depth, Chu He had just arrived before Hong Shou's gate when, in the next instant, he immediately retreated.

He bent low and hid at a corner of the wall, just in time to see Han Zhong emerge from Hong Shou's courtyard gate.

Han Zhong looked around, and Chu He swiftly pulled his head back.

"Why did Han Zhong come here? Is he looking for something too?"

When he peered out again, no one remained before the courtyard gate.

To be cautious, Chu He waited another quarter of an hour. By then, the rain had grown heavier and soaked through his straw cape. With a swift burst of movement, he tapped the pooled water atop a cobblestone with the tip of his foot and, light as a swallow, vaulted over the wall.

Inside the courtyard stood bamboo groves and ornamental rocks, with bluestone paths and flowing water, carrying a refined and natural elegance.

Chu He crossed the courtyard and entered the corridor. Following his memories, he turned a corner and stopped before an antique door.

This was his ultimate destination: Hong Shou's study.

He raised a hand and pushed the door. With a click, it opened at once. Chu He raised his brows slightly, surprised. It was not locked?

Chu He stepped lightly into the study, moving on tiptoe. One glance told him that someone had visited before him.

The study's furnishings were simple: one table, one chair, several paintings and pieces of calligraphy by unknown hands, and two orderly bookcases standing against the inner wall.

Too orderly. It did not resemble Hong Shou's style at all.

But Chu He had no mind to spare for anything else. His gaze swept across the rows of shelves, and at last, in a corner, he found what he wanted.