Crisis

The iron lock seemed to have been tampered with, though it had not been damaged. After unlocking it and stepping inside, Zhao Feng's heart sank at the sight of the floor just beyond the door. His suspicions were confirmed. Two indistinct footprints stood out clearly in the thin layer of powder spread inside the threshold. This was part of his routine whenever he went out—either scattering powder or wedging a leaf in the door crack.

"Someone came in. Could it have been a thief?" Anyone capable of opening the iron lock rather than breaking it had to be a somewhat skilled thief, but he quickly dismissed that possibility.

Though the furnishings inside were simple, there were no obvious signs of rummaging. Only because Zhao Feng knew someone had entered could he notice the tiny traces of disturbance. It seemed someone had searched through the place, then tried to put everything back to cover their tracks.

A thief would never do that. They would only tear the place apart looking for money and valuables.

"Then who was it?" Zhao Feng's mind raced as he thought of anyone who might have snuck into his home and done such a thing. Fellow townsmen? Impossible. None of them knew where he lived—not even his fellow disciples.

Neighbors? No. They did not have the nerve.

"Black Tiger Gang!" Those three words flashed through his mind, and his adrenaline surged.

Only they were possible. But how had they set their sights on me?

Zhao Feng swiftly retraced every step of how he had killed Chen Bao and confirmed that he had not left any obvious clues.

There was only one thing: the Heart-Top Elbow. Wanting to end things quickly, he had shattered Chen Bao's breastbone with a single Heart-Top Elbow, then hacked up the corpse with random slashes to conceal it. He had gambled on committing the murder while they were fighting the Three Harmonies Gang, so they would only assume the Three Harmonies Gang had done it.

But upon closer consideration, there were still holes in that plan. Even so, why would they suspect him? After all, other fist techniques could also shatter someone's breastbone.

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

These gangs had drifted through the streets and marketplaces for years, living lives with blades at their throats. Naturally, they possessed extensive experience in the martial world. Unless he had done everything flawlessly, there was always a chance they could trace it back to him.

What were they looking for? Zhao Feng recalled the ledger Chen Bao had carried, which he had burned. Could they have been searching for that ledger?

Yet they had not come openly to confront him. Instead, they had acted in secret, afraid he would notice. Such caution meant they were likely wary of his master, Huo Shan.

With the banner of a master at the Transformation Force level behind him, such lowly martial world gangs indeed did not dare offend him lightly.

But no matter what, he had been targeted. The feeling of being watched was unpleasant, and he hated it.

Since he hated it, he needed to take the initiative and eliminate it.

"I heard the Black Tiger Gang's leader is at the peak of Bright Force. To defeat him with certainty, I need to succeed in breaking through the barrier a second time and become a Dark Force expert."

But his food and medicinal supplements were not good enough in quality right now, and his progress was too slow. If necessary, he could only take a desperate risk.

At that thought, a sense of urgency rose in Zhao Feng's heart. He had to push himself harder in both fist training and stance practice.

The same went for archery. Archery did not require the support of vital energy and blood; every arrow he shot increased his progress a little.

Early the next morning, he arrived at the martial arts hall to practice his stance and train. Then the neighing of horses sounded from the entrance. He turned and saw a luxurious carriage stopped outside. A middle-aged man dressed like a steward stepped down, smiling broadly as he lifted the carriage curtain.

"Young Master Chu, be careful. Take it slowly," he said attentively, bowing at the waist.

The one who stepped out of the carriage was Chu Fan. He wore an exquisitely tailored brocade robe threaded with gold, clearly worth a great deal, and carried himself with remarkable presence.

"Senior Brother Chu!"

"Senior Brother Chu, you're here!" At the sight of him, the disciples in the martial arts hall all stopped what they were doing, pausing their training or chores to greet him.

Zhao Feng merely glanced at him before turning his attention away. He was already used to it. In the two months since Chu Fan had become a Dark Force expert, ever more praise and wealth had come his way. More and more wealthy households, trading houses, and distinguished figures sought him out and hosted banquets for him. He was often picked up by luxurious carriages as soon as he left the martial arts hall. The plain cloth robes he once wore had become brocade garments, his complexion had grown fair, his eyes bright, and his every movement carried greater composure, faintly bearing the air of someone in a high position.

But today, his eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol. It looked as though he had spent the entire night drinking.

Just then, Huo Shan emerged from the rear courtyard with a stern expression.

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

"Master." Chu Fan lowered his head somewhat guiltily.

"You have excellent natural talent. While you are young, you should devote yourself to martial arts instead of indulging in pleasure. Do not waste your youth and squander such talent. Wine and women are steel blades that scrape the bones; you must never lose yourself in them," Huo Shan said sternly, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Look at... him." Huo Shan turned and pointed at Zhao Feng. After pausing, he finally recalled Zhao Feng's name.

"Although Zhao Feng's natural talent is inferior to yours, his persistence and determination surpass yours. You should learn from him in that regard."

"Master, this disciple knows his mistake." Chu Fan's face flushed red as he lowered his head and accepted the reprimand. Yet he shot Zhao Feng a sidelong glance, his eyes carrying a trace of chill.

"It is good that you know. From today onward, put your mind back into martial arts. Given time, you may yet become Big Stone County's youngest Transformation Force expert and make a name for yourself in the martial world." Huo Shan's tone softened. He could not bear to reprimand this favored disciple too harshly.

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

Zhao Feng looked at Huo Shan's retreating figure, his feelings a tangled mess. Master Huo had never given him special instruction. Apart from teaching him one-on-one when he had first entered the school and when he broke through to Bright Force, Huo Shan only occasionally offered a few pointers when passing by.

He drew a deep breath and suppressed those complicated feelings. Huo Shan owed him nothing. In everyone's eyes, his natural talent was only below average, and his potential was already exhausted. Huo Shan had already done enough.

Around noon, Zhao Feng entered Treasure Brocade Workshop, a weaving workshop in the outer city, carrying a bundle.

"Cousin, you're here!" Qiao'er jumped up excitedly as soon as she saw him, her face full of anticipation.

Over this period, thanks to improved food, the sallow look had faded from Qiao'er's face. She had filled out somewhat and was beginning to show the grace of a young woman.

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

"Auntie, Qiao'er, eat while it's hot."

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

"Xiaofeng, why are you spending so much money again?" Zhao Youfang said heartfully, though Zhao Feng could see that her eyes had reddened. Her face was full of comfort.

"Eat up. Both you and Qiao'er need to build up your health," Zhao Feng said softly.

Last time, Qiao'er had let it slip that the chickens he brought had all been eaten by her uncle's family.

After that, he stopped giving them money or goods, unwilling to let others benefit from them. Instead, he occasionally brought food and watched the two of them finish it.

Fortunately, his uncle had not hit his aunt again. At least he knew better, or Zhao Feng would not have been polite with him.

After his aunt and Qiao'er finished eating,

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

"Alright!" Qiao'er pulled him into the courtyard and used charcoal to write the two characters Zhao Feng had taught her last time: "farmer" and "water."

Zhao Feng nodded. His younger cousin was actually clever and quick-witted, learning characters very quickly. It was truly unfair for her to be stuck doing needlework here.

Once he had a little more money on hand, he would send her to a private school in the county to learn to read and write.