Perfect Mastery Locust Stone

[Deceased: Brewer Durang]

[Realm: Bright Force]

[Soul-cleansing progress: 0%]

[Reward: One Talent, martial art, or skill]

Lin Qing's heart leaped. He had come here many times over the past four months to handle corpses, but every one had belonged to an ordinary person. The life skills he had gained held some value, but they offered little help in martial arts.

Martial Artists were few and far between, especially among refugees.

He immediately placed the corpse in the cremation furnace. The instant the flames swallowed it, he saw the martial art and skills it carried, and his heart leaped again.

"One martial art: Locust Stone at Perfect Mastery. One Third Tier Talent: Gastronomic Rhinoceros. One Fourth Tier Talent: Artisan Heart. And one skill: brewing."

With a burst of crackling, the corpse swiftly burned to ash. The soul-cleansing progress soon reached 100%.

Images flooded Lin Qing's mind: memories from the brewery owner's life.

The man had come from a comfortable family and studied martial arts in his youth. He had spent twenty years bringing Locust Stone to Major Mastery, then run a brewery and lived well.

Unfortunately, war had swept through the land. He had become a refugee, fleeing from place to place.

By the time he reached Shanyin County, he was desperately weak. He had frozen to death beneath the snow filling the sky.

Though he knew Locust Stone, his physique was unremarkable, so none of the county's wealthy and powerful figures had taken notice of him.

Lin Qing finished watching, numb inside. In these chaotic times, such tragedies were hardly rare.

[Please copy one martial art, skill, or Talent]

1. Locust Stone (Perfect Mastery)

A hidden-weapon art widespread in the southern Shu Region. It used thrown stones to injure enemies. At Perfect Mastery, the practitioner could hit any point he aimed at within thirty paces.

2. Gastronomic Rhinoceros (Third Tier · Fine)

The taste buds on your tongue would become exceptionally developed, allowing you to distinguish the subtlest differences in food and water and detect poisons and foreign matter.

3. Artisan Heart (Fourth Tier · Excellent)

You possessed extraordinary focus and patience for work you loved.

4. Du Family Brewing Technique (Major Mastery)

A brewing craft passed down through three generations of the Du Family. Refined through fifty years of practice, it had developed a distinctive style and was especially suited to making yellow wine that was strong without being harsh, mellow and lingering.

Lin Qing naturally chose to copy Locust Stone.

He then went out to carry in another corpse, but this time he had misjudged it. The deceased was a fisherman, and Lin Qing gained only a Third Tier Talent, Aquatic Mastery, which could make him far more capable in water than an ordinary person.

Back at the Martial Arts Arena, Lin Qing willed Locust Stone into his equipment slot.

In an instant, a wealth of details about Locust Stone surged into his mind.

"Thirty paces, and I can hit whatever I aim at. Not bad." Lin Qing was delighted.

But with so many people around, he had no chance to test it.

He waited until dusk, when everyone finished training and returned to their own courtyards. Only then did Lin Qing find a moment alone.

He picked up a few stones beside the path and flicked his hand. Smack! A bird perched on a distant branch was struck and knocked straight to the ground.

He aimed at several leaves next. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! He sent four stones flying in succession. Three struck their targets; the last missed.

"Four out of five. That's already a remarkably high hit rate."

"More importantly, it's practical. Pebbles, pottery shards, darts—I can use whatever I get my hands on."

Lin Qing returned to his little courtyard in high spirits. After a night of hard training, he asked for leave the next day and went home.

It had been a month since his last visit. Worried about his parents, Lin Qing felt he had to check on them.

On the way, he bought a box of osmanthus cakes. Han Ying had once said she had loved them since childhood, and Lin Qing had remembered.

But just as he reached the courtyard gate, he heard Lin Cheng sigh.

"A single coin can bring a hero to his knees. Where am I supposed to find the money?"

"We'll have to think of something. We can't afford to cross Rong Futong," Han Ying replied.

Lin Qing frowned and pushed open the gate.

"Father, Mother, what happened?"

Lin Cheng was chopping firewood. At the sight of Lin Qing, some of the worry left his face, and he sprang up from the ground.

"Ah Qing, you're back. Don't ask. Rong Futong went back on his word and is demanding money from the common folk again. This time it's a regular protection fee. Anyone running a small business has to pay."

"Rong Futong really is rotten. We already paid the White Emperor Assembly once, and now he wants more. Where are we supposed to find it?" Han Ying said.

Anger flared in Lin Qing's chest. He had paid part of the White Emperor Assembly's demand last time, and his parents had covered the rest. They had managed to scrape it together, but now Rong Futong wanted more. His greed was a bottomless pit.

"Father, Mother, don't worry about this. I have a way to deal with it." Lin Qing set down the osmanthus cakes.

"Ah Qing, you don't have to shoulder all the pressure yourself," Han Ying told him.

"Don't worry, Mother. I know what I'm doing." Lin Qing nodded.

At dusk, Lin Qing went out. He told his parents he was returning to the Soul-Calming Office, but in truth, he took a detour to find Rong Futong.

Rong Futong was notorious, and everyone knew where he lived: near Changping Street.

Lin Qing soon reached the vicinity of his courtyard house. A lantern hung above the gate, with low earthen walls on either side and five thatched cottages behind them.

Rong Futong squeezed the common folk and raked in money everywhere, but he was only an errand runner. Someone else stood behind him and took the lion's share. That was why his own home was so shabby.

Lin Qing did not rush in. He leaned against the wall and quietly observed for a while, listening to the sounds in the courtyard. At last, he concluded that four people were inside, drinking in the northern cottage.

Once he was sure no one was nearby, Lin Qing climbed over the wall. He carried a pouch of pebbles and lime powder inside his clothes.

He did not force his way into the cottage. Instead, he crouched in the shadow at the foot of a wall and waited for Rong Futong and the others to come out.

From the courtyard, he could hear everything inside clearly.

In the room, several men sat around a wooden table, drinking to their hearts' content. Rong Futong occupied the seat of honor, wearing a black jacket, his face fierce.

"Come on, drink!"

"Down it!"

The four had already emptied one large jar of wine and were on their second. Every one of them was drunk.

"Master Rong, how was Widow Wang? I heard her last night. Those sounds had me itching all over." A skinny, monkey-faced thug let out a wine-scented belch, a leering grin on his face.

Rong Futong laughed. "Nice and slick! Do a good job, kid, and I'll let you have her for a few days."

"Thank you, Master Rong." The skinny thug was overjoyed.

"Damn it, that Jiang bastard is no kind of man," Rong Futong suddenly said. "Everyone hates my guts, and I go to all that trouble to squeeze out the silver. Then he opens his mouth and takes eighty percent."

"What can you do, Master Rong? He's a Constable Chief at the Soul-Calming Office. I hear he's even got the Han Family behind him," said a stout, heavyset man beside him.

"Han Tai and Jiang Baihe. Two bloodsucking, skin-flaying bastards." Rong Futong's face darkened. He gulped down more wine, his cheeks flushed red.

Listening from the courtyard, Lin Qing frowned. Jiang Baihe? Han Tai? One's a Constable Chief in the Night Patrol Team, the other in the Evil-Exorcism Team. So those two are Rong Futong's backers in the government office. No wonder he hasn't been arrested all these years.

Just then, the monkey-faced thug pulled open the door with a creak. Eyes bleary, he staggered toward the latrine.

As the thug reached the corner, Lin Qing darted out. He clamped both hands around the man's head from behind and twisted hard, snapping his neck.

The thug was dead drunk and had never trained in martial arts. He had no chance to resist. His eyes went dark, and he collapsed into the snow.