Crisis

The iron lock showed signs of having been tampered with, but it had not been broken. After unlocking it and stepping inside, he looked at the floor just beyond the doorway, and his heart sank. His suspicion was confirmed: two indistinct footprints stood out in the thin layer of powder inside the threshold. This was a precaution he took every time he went out-either scattering powder or wedging a leaf in the door crack.

"Someone came in. A thief?" Anyone who could open the iron lock rather than break it had to be a thief with some skill, but he soon dismissed that guess.

Although the furnishings were simple, there were no obvious signs of a search. Only because Zhao Feng knew someone had entered did he notice the subtle traces of disturbance. Someone seemed to have rummaged through his belongings, then tried to cover their tracks by putting everything back, only making their interference more conspicuous.

A thief would never do that. They would simply turn everything upside down looking for money and valuables.

"Then who could it be?" Zhao Feng's mind raced as he considered who might sneak into his home and do such a thing. Someone from his hometown? Impossible. None of them knew where he lived, not even his fellow disciples.

The neighbors? No. They lacked the nerve.

"The Black Tiger Gang!" The name flashed through his mind, sending his adrenaline surging.

They're the only possibility. But how did they get onto me?

Zhao Feng quickly reviewed every step of how he had killed Chen Bao, certain he had left no obvious telltale signs.

There was only one possibility: the Heart-Top Elbow. To cut through the tangled mess with one swift stroke, he had shattered Chen Bao's breastbone with a single elbow strike, then hacked up the corpse to conceal it. He had gambled that, since he struck while they were fighting the Three Harmonies Gang, everyone would assume the rival gang was responsible.

On closer thought, there were holes in that plan. But even so, why would they suspect him? Other fist techniques could shatter a breastbone just as easily.

Zhao Feng let out a long, stale breath and quickly calmed himself. He had still underestimated these gangs of the martial world.

These gangs had spent years prowling the streets, living by licking blood off a blade's edge. Naturally, they had plenty of worldly experience. Unless his work was seamless as a heavenly robe, they might still track him down.

What were they looking for? Zhao Feng remembered the ledger Chen Bao had been carrying, which he had burned. Could they be looking for that ledger?

But rather than coming openly to his door, they had acted in secret, afraid of alerting him. Such caution probably meant they feared his master, Huo Shan.

With a Transformation Force expert as his master and banner of protection, these lowlife gangs of the martial world indeed would not dare offend him lightly.

Regardless, he was now being watched. It was an unpleasant feeling, and he disliked it intensely.

Since he disliked it so much, he would have to take the initiative and eliminate it.

"I've heard the Black Tiger Gang's leader is at bright strength peak. To be sure of beating him, I'd best succeed in my second gate breakthrough and become a hidden force expert."

But the quality of his nourishing food and medicinal supplements was inadequate, so his progress was slow. If that proved insufficient, he would have to risk walking into danger.

At that thought, a sense of urgency rose within Zhao Feng. He had to put even more effort into practicing his fists and standing stances.

That included archery. Archery did not require the support of his qi and blood; every arrow he shot could add a point of progress.

Early the next morning, he arrived at the Martial Arts School to practice his standing stances and martial arts. Just then, horses neighed outside the entrance. He looked back and saw a luxurious carriage parked there. A middle-aged man who looked like a steward climbed down and lifted the carriage curtain with a beaming smile.

"Master Chu, mind your step. Take it slowly," he said solicitously, bowing at the waist.

The man who stepped down was Chu Fan. He wore an expensive, exquisitely tailored brocade robe threaded with gold, and carried himself with distinction.

"Senior Brother Chu!"

"Senior Brother Chu, you're here!" At the sight of him, the disciples in the Martial Arts School stopped their training or work and greeted him.

Zhao Feng merely glanced over before turning his attention away. He was already used to it. In the two months since Chu Fan had become a hidden force expert, praise and wealth had followed. More and more wealthy households, trading companies, and influential people sought him out and invited him to banquets. Luxurious carriages often picked him up as soon as he left the Martial Arts School. His ordinary cloth robes had given way to brocade, his complexion was fair and his eyes bright, and his every movement had grown more composed, carrying a hint of a superior's bearing.

Today, however, his eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol. He looked as though he had spent the entire night drinking.

Just then, Huo Shan emerged from the rear courtyard, his face stern.

"So you finally decided to come back?" Huo Shan snorted.

"Master." Chu Fan lowered his head guiltily.

"You have excellent root bone. While you're young, you should devote yourself all the more to martial training, not lose yourself in pleasure. Don't squander your years and waste all that talent. Wine and women are steel blades that scrape your bones-you must never sink into them," Huo Shan said sternly, his hands behind his back.

"Look at... him." Huo Shan turned and pointed at Zhao Feng. He paused before remembering Zhao Feng's name.

"Zhao Feng's root bone may not be as good as yours, but his perseverance and determination surpass yours. You should learn from him in that respect."

"Master, I know I was wrong." Chu Fan's face flushed scarlet as he bowed his head and accepted the admonition. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he glanced at Zhao Feng with a trace of coldness.

"As long as you recognize your mistake. From now on, put your mind back into training. Given time, you might well become Big Stone County's youngest Transformation Force expert and startle the martial world with a single resounding cry." Huo Shan's tone softened. He could not bear to scold his favorite disciple much more.

"Come to the rear courtyard with me. I'll test you on the key points of the fist sequence I taught you last time and see whether you remember them." Huo Shan turned and entered the rear courtyard with his hands behind his back. Chu Fan hurried after him.

Zhao Feng watched Huo Shan's retreating figure, a jumble of emotions stirring inside him. Master Huo had never given him special lessons. He had only taught him one-on-one when he first joined and when he broke through to bright strength. Usually, he merely offered a few pointers in passing.

He drew a deep breath and suppressed those tangled feelings. Huo Shan owed him nothing. In everyone's eyes, his root bone was below average and his potential already exhausted. What Huo Shan had done for him was enough.

Around noon, Zhao Feng entered the Treasure Brocade Workshop in the Outer City's Weaving Workshop, carrying a bundle.

"Cousin, you're here!" Qiao'er jumped up excitedly at the sight of him, her expression full of anticipation.

With her improved diet lately, the sickly pallor had vanished from Qiao'er's face. She had filled out a little, too, and was beginning to show signs of growing into a graceful young woman.

Zhao Feng opened the bundle and took out a stack of steaming flatbreads and two packets of sliced braised meat.

"Little Aunt, Qiao'er, hurry and eat while it's hot."

Little Aunt and Qiao'er received no lunch while working here, so he occasionally brought cooked food to help nourish them.

"Feng, why did you spend so much money again?" Zhao Youfang said, pained at the expense. Yet Zhao Feng could see her eyes reddening, her face full of warmth and gratitude.

"Go on and eat. Little Aunt, both you and Qiao'er need to build up your strength," Zhao Feng said softly.

Last time, Qiao'er had let slip that the chicken he had sent them had all been eaten by his uncle's family.

He no longer gave them money or goods, lest someone else reap the benefit. Instead, he brought food from time to time and watched the two of them finish it.

Fortunately, his aunt's husband had stopped beating her. At least he knew what was good for him. Otherwise, Zhao Feng would not have treated him kindly.

Once Little Aunt and Qiao'er had finished eating.

"Qiao'er, write out the two characters I taught you last time and let me see," Zhao Feng said.

"Sure!" Qiao'er pulled him into the courtyard and used a piece of charcoal to write the two characters Zhao Feng had taught her on the ground: "farming" and "water."

Zhao Feng nodded. His younger cousin was actually bright and quick-witted, learning characters swiftly. Having her do needlework here was truly a waste of her abilities.

Once he had a little more money to spare, he would send her to a private school in the county town to study and learn to read.