Murder for Profit

The shop assistant put the twenty taels of silver into the cashbox and watched Feng Chen's back disappear into the crowd at the street corner. The attentive smile on his face gradually faded.

He tossed the rag onto the counter, leaned against the bookshelf, folded his arms, and snorted.

"Another fool."

"That makes four in the past half month."

"Twenty taels of silver—he might as well save it and learn martial arts at a martial hall. At least he'd have a master to guide him. Buying books to practice blindly on his own? That's just throwing money into the water."

He had seen too many people like this. They came up from the villages below with hard-earned savings accumulated over who knew how many years, bought a few manuals, and went home to reinvent the wheel behind closed doors. A few months later, they could only give up.

Some suffered qi deviation or went berserk. The lucky ones simply made no progress, while the unlucky ones ruined their bodies outright.

But he had not recognized Feng Chen because Feng Chen had disguised himself. He had smeared soot on his face, drawn his eyebrows thicker, and changed his hairstyle. He looked completely different from the last time he had come.

After leaving the bookstore with the four manuals, Feng Chen did not hurry back to the village.

He spent more time in town gathering information on the three martial halls. This time, he sought out an elderly storyteller in a teahouse. For two copper coins and a pot of tea, the old man told him everything he knew.

After making inquiries, Feng Chen gained a better understanding of the three martial halls.

The Wang Household and Zhao Household were lineage martial halls, passing down the martial arts of their ancestors. They would not teach their true techniques to anyone outside the household or their direct heirs. They did teach outsiders who paid to learn, but only the foundational techniques for the first three heavens of Body Tempering. They would never pass on the later manuals.

There was only one way to obtain the later techniques of those two households: marry into one of them, change one's surname and join the lineage, becoming a member of their family.

Great Mountain Martial Hall was relatively open-minded and did not discriminate against outsiders. Its hall master was surnamed Zhou and was said to be a Rogue Cultivator martial artist from elsewhere. He accepted disciples regardless of background, caring only about aptitude and silver.

However, obtaining the later manuals beyond Body Tempering, Third Heaven still required at least several hundred taels of silver. It was no cheaper.

After hearing everything, Feng Chen had made up his mind.

He possessed the talent destiny of Rapid Qi Cultivation. By studying on his own, he could steadily complete the first three heavens of Body Tempering, at a pace not much slower than what martial halls taught—perhaps even faster.

Besides, martial halls had too many rules. Apprentices had to perform grand rites, obey the hall master's commands after joining, and offer filial gifts during every holiday and festival. Buying books and practicing at home was far more freeing.

All things considered, there was little difference between joining a martial hall and studying on his own, so Feng Chen stopped wasting thought on the matter.

He turned and headed somewhere else!

The pharmacy.

The three portions of high-grade Blood-Qi medicinal ingredients he had bought last time had let him truly experience the exhilaration of surging blood and qi when he broke through to Body Tempering, First Heaven—A Thousand Miles a Day.

He still vividly remembered the feeling of medicinal power rushing through his veins. The sensation of feeling his body grow stronger with every breath was more addictive than any miraculous pill.

Now that he had obtained new cultivation techniques and martial skills, the strain of training would only be greater than before. The medicinal ingredients he needed had to keep up as well.

He still had nearly nine hundred taels of silver. Spending it where it mattered was the right choice.

When he arrived at the entrance of the Hall of Benevolent Relief, its vermilion wooden doors stood wide open, and the air was thick with medicinal fragrance.

The medicine cabinets covering the entire wall behind the counter were packed with tiny drawers, each labeled with the name of a herb.

There were more customers than last time. Two middle-aged men were waiting in line before the counter to buy medicine.

Feng Chen sensed that both men were powerfully built, with veins faintly showing on their arms. Though they were not martial artists, the blood and qi within them were far stronger than that of ordinary people. They were clearly nearing a breakthrough.

Each wore a long saber at his waist. Standing before the counter, they spoke quietly to each other in the rough manner unique to jianghu men.

Feng Chen said nothing and silently queued behind them.

Only after the two middle-aged men had bought their medicinal ingredients and walked out of the shop side by side with their oil-paper packets did Feng Chen step forward to the counter.

The physician behind the counter was an elderly man with gray hair and beard, dressed in a faded blue cloth robe.

He looked at Feng Chen, his gaze lingering briefly on his plain clothes before he calmly asked, "What would you like to buy, young man?"

"Blood and qi medicinal ingredients." Feng Chen looked at the physician and said directly, "I want ten portions of high-grade ingredients."

Each portion of high-grade medicinal ingredients cost thirty taels of silver. Ten portions came to three hundred taels.

For ordinary people, that was enough to live on for ten years. Even for most martial practitioners in Green Mountain Town, it was no small expense.

But the same principle still applied!

Silver would not produce cultivation on its own. Only by turning it into personal strength could he earn greater returns in the future.

The physician was visibly surprised by Feng Chen's words. He looked him over again from head to toe, likely wondering how such a plainly dressed young man could buy so many high-grade medicinal ingredients in one go.

However, he quickly composed himself and nodded. "No problem. As it happens, the shop has exactly ten portions of high-grade ingredients left. There isn't even one more."

With that, he turned around and began preparing the medicine from the cabinets behind him.

There were ten portions of high-grade medicinal ingredients, each separately wrapped in yellow paper. Inside were prepared astragalus root, codonopsis root, angelica root, and Blood-Qi Herb...

Meanwhile, the two middle-aged men who had just left the pharmacy had not gone far.

They stood at the entrance of an alley across the street. They had heard Feng Chen mention ten portions of high-grade medicinal ingredients inside the shop, then doubled back and pressed themselves beside the door to listen some more.

The two exchanged glances and both smiled.

Three hundred taels of silver, casually taken out just like that. And judging by the boy's clothes, he was clearly some mountain hunter.

He bore no mark of any faction. He was neither a martial hall disciple nor a gang member, was alone, and still so young!

He was practically a fat sheep delivered right to their door.

The two exchanged signals, lightened their footsteps, and retreated farther into the alley. They hid behind a pile of broken bamboo baskets and quietly waited for Feng Chen to come out.

A short while later, Feng Chen paid three hundred taels of silver and received a large oil-paper bundle containing ten portions of high-grade medicinal ingredients.

He hugged the bundle to his chest and walked out of the Hall of Benevolent Relief. After looking both ways along the street, he turned into a narrow alley leading toward the edge of town, intending to take a shortcut straight out of town.

The alley was narrow, with uneven earthen and brick walls on either side. Several clumps of withered wild grass grew atop the walls, rustling in the wind.

The bluestone paving beneath his feet had been worn smooth and bright, while black mud had gathered in the cracks between the stones.

Feng Chen had not walked far before stopping.

Two tall, powerfully built middle-aged men stood ahead in the alley.

Seeing them, Feng Chen frowned because he recognized them.

They were the two men who had been ahead of him in the Hall of Benevolent Relief, buying medicine.

Each held a long saber polished bright as snow. The blades reflected the sunlight spilling in from the alley entrance, casting shifting flashes across their faces.

They blocked the center of the alley, one on the left and one on the right, cutting off the way forward.

One of the middle-aged men rested his saber on his shoulder and tilted his head toward the oil-paper bundle in Feng Chen's arms. A greedy smile spread across his face, revealing two rows of teeth yellowed by smoke. "Kid, three hundred taels for high-grade medicinal ingredients. You're pretty rich. Hand over your money now and buy your dog life, or we'll kill you."

The other immediately added, "That's right. If you know what's good for you, hand over the money and save your life. We brothers only want wealth, not lives. Leave the money and the medicine behind, and we'll let you walk away."

Though they claimed they would not kill him, the fingers gripping their saber hilts kept tightening and loosening, while cruelty gleamed in their eyes.

Hearing their words, Feng Chen's grip on the medicine bundle tightened slightly.

He had known those two were waiting outside. He should have waited until they had gone farther away before mentioning how much medicine he wanted to buy.

But on second thought, the way these two blocked the road was so practiced that even the distance between their positions seemed rehearsed countless times. This was clearly not their first time doing such a thing.