The Old Who Refuse to Die Become Demons

"Longevity pills?"

Lu Changsheng's closed eyes opened a sliver, and his hand, thin as dry kindling, beckoned lightly.

"Little Lu Jin, you're still too young."

An invisible force swept past, and the oil-paper packet in the young man's hand landed in Lu Changsheng's.

He opened it. Inside lay a scroll of skin made from some unknown material, cold and slick to the touch. Dark red pigment traced twisted mountains and rivers across it, and at the very center of the map were several ancient demon characters.

Lu Changsheng's gaze swept over the characters.

"Blackwater Ancient Town? Blackwater Pool?"

Lu Changsheng murmured the two place names, gently rubbing a finger over the mark representing the deep pool.

"Hong Tianbao went to Blackwater Ancient Town under the pretext of dealing with the Gold-Swallowing Beast. After he came back, he didn't dare show his face for some time."

"Lin Shouzhen of Maoshan also appeared briefly in Blackwater Ancient Town."

"There must be something real there."

"But remember, anyone who wants to accomplish great things must keep his composure. Don't panic and throw yourselves into confusion. Send someone to scout the way first."

After a moment's thought, a cold smile appeared on Lu Changsheng's face.

He did not put the map away. Instead, he tossed it to Lu Zongyuan, the current head of the Dragon Gate Escort Agency.

"Find a way to let this reach the Western Archaeological Expedition in Tianjin through the black market. Make it look accidental." Lu Changsheng lay back on the couch, his tone indifferent.

"Those foreign devils think a few lousy guns and some Alchemy Explosives are enough to rob tombs on Great Xin Dynasty soil... conduct archaeology, I mean. Let them dig."

Lu Changsheng added, "Remember, leave no fingerprints. Keep it quiet. If something happens to those foreign devils afterward and people start investigating, not a trace of it can lead back to the Dragon Gate Escort Agency."

"Yes. Brilliant, Ancestor." Lu Zongyuan took the map and understood at once.

They would kill with a borrowed knife and cast a stone to test the road ahead.

"By the way, Ancestor."

Lu Zongyuan, now the head of the Dragon Gate Escort Agency, bowed and asked, "Do you think the match in seven days will be real or staged?"

"What if it's real? What if it's staged?" Lu Changsheng closed his eyes again and tapped a finger against the edge of the couch.

"If it's staged, Hong Tianbao wants to use the Eight Gates Martial Hall to put on a show for Tianjin. He wants them to see he won't break the rules and only wants to make a living."

"If it's real..." Lu Zongyuan gave a cold laugh. "Then Hong Tianbao is ambitious. He wants to plant the Shocking Heron Martial Hall's signboard atop the Eight Gates Martial Hall's corpse and reach for the leading seat in Tianjin's martial world."

He continued, "Ancestor, why should we get involved?"

"Hong Tianbao has offended Tianjin's entire martial world. Let the wicked grind down the wicked. The Dragon Gate Escort Agency has plenty to protect. Why not stay on our own little patch of land instead of offending a master in his prime?"

To him, it was a losing proposition.

The Eight Gates Martial Hall had connections, but they were hardly worth a fight to the death with Hong Tianbao.

"Fool!"

Lu Changsheng opened his eyes, his tone stern.

"You think I'm doing this for the Eight Gates Martial Hall? I'm doing it for the Dragon Gate Escort Agency's century-old foundation!"

He sighed and looked toward Tianjin.

"The jianghu is wherever people gather. The Dragon Gate Escort Agency has stood through troubled times not just because of our fists, but because we have someone above us."

"This old man has never forgotten the favor we were shown, not for a moment."

Lu Changsheng's voice grew low. "That lord sent word. He wants us to knock some sense into Hong Tianbao. Best if we drive him back south. If we can't... we must at least make him abandon any thought of challenging the halls in Tianjin."

"That lord?"

The others exchanged glances. Then, as realization dawned, their faces changed in unison, and none dared say another word.

Shocking Heron Martial Hall, inner courtyard training room.

Ye Qingyao might have been youthful and captivating, but once she started fighting, she was a monster.

She taught no fixed routines. She went straight to live combat.

The two wooden knives wrapped in lime-covered cloth seemed to come alive in her hands. Like vipers flicking their tongues, they struck at Li Xiang's eyes, throat, groin, and other vital points.

"Too slow!"

Thud!

A knife struck Li Xiang's chest, leaving a white spot of lime.

"Your wrist is too stiff. Flow like water!"

Smack!

The back of a knife lashed Li Xiang's wrist, leaving it red and swollen in an instant.

"Stop letting your eyes wander. Watch my shoulders. Watch my hips!"

Thud!

A muffled impact sounded.

Li Xiang flew backward like a kite with its string cut and hit the ground hard, kicking up dust.

"Again."

A cool voice rang out.

Ye Qingyao stood in the middle of the room, holding two wooden knives wrapped in lime-covered cloth.

She wore a close-fitting training outfit that showed off every curve of her graceful figure.

But deadly danger lay beneath that beauty. She was like a rose with thorns: come a little too close, and she would leave you bleeding.

"Cough, cough..."

Li Xiang climbed to his feet and rubbed his numb chest.

He had clearly seen Ye Qingyao's move and raised his arm to block. But her wrist had seemed boneless, winding along his arm and sliding past it until the knife's edge rested against his heart.

If it had been a real knife, he would already be dead.

[Sparring match: Boxer experience +1]

The notification in his mind was the only thing driving Li Xiang to get up.

This kind of intense sparring earned him experience far faster than mindlessly practicing Taizu Long Fist alone.

"Your reactions are quick, and your eyesight is far better than most people's. But it's still not enough."

Ye Qingyao played with the wooden knife in her hand, her autumn-pool eyes resting quietly on Li Xiang.

"Knife-Clasping Hand-Wrestling is about listening. Not with your ears, but with your skin, your muscles, your bones."

"The instant your arms meet, you need to feel where your opponent's force is going. Is it a feint or a committed strike? Hard or soft? Are they trying to seize your wrist or dislocate your joint?"

Ye Qingyao stepped forward and tossed Li Xiang a wooden knife.

"Don't look with your eyes. Eyes can deceive you. Feel it with your body."

Li Xiang caught the knife, drew a deep breath, steadied his breathing, and took his stance again.

"Again!"

They closed and tangled once more.

They were so close they could hear each other breathe.

Li Xiang could even smell the faint orchid fragrance on Ye Qingyao, mingled with a barely perceptible trace of sweat.

Any other male student faced with a stunning beauty at arm's length would probably have let his mind run wild and his limbs go weak.

Li Xiang did not.

His gaze was clear and focused—cold, even.

In his eyes, Ye Qingyao was no beauty. She was a precise, dangerous fighting machine that could erupt into violence at any moment.

Open!

Li Xiang shouted inwardly.

[Painter class ability Bone-Drawing activated!]

Hum!

His vision shifted.

Ye Qingyao's delicate face blurred, replaced by clear lines of bone and the paths of her muscles.

Her left shoulder dipped slightly. Her deltoid was gathering strength for a left-hand chop.

Her right hip drew back. Her waist muscles were twisting, preparing to drive up her knee.

Her wrist turned. Her ulna was rotating, ready to release force.

I see it!

A sharp light flashed in Li Xiang's eyes.

The instant Ye Qingyao struck with her knife, Li Xiang moved first.

He did not retreat. He surged in, holding his wooden knife in a reverse grip. He slid it up the inside of Ye Qingyao's arm and caught it precisely at her elbow.

At the same time, his spine snapped like a great dragon, sending a bursting force into his shoulder. He slammed into her.

Thud!

They came together and sprang apart.

This time, Li Xiang retreated only two steps. Ye Qingyao took one step back herself.

Ye Qingyao steadied herself. For the first time, surprise showed in her eyes.

"I like the way you look at me."

Ye Qingyao did not press her attack. She held her wooden knife across her chest, lifted her delicate chin, and spoke with a note of approval.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not interested in you."

She looked at Li Xiang and said bluntly, "I mean you're different from the other students here. Some look at me like dogs eyeing meat buns, their heads full of filthy thoughts. Others look at me like rabbits seeing a tiger, cowering away."

"You're different."

Ye Qingyao tilted her head, as if searching for the right words. "There's none of that disgusting desire in your eyes, and none of that irritating fear. You look at me like I'm an... opponent. A wooden post."

"Your heart doesn't race, your hands don't shake, and you strike without mercy. You're nothing like a beginner. You're more like a seasoned hand who's spent years being knocked around in the jianghu."

"Have you really never trained before?"

Li Xiang rubbed his wrist. "I worked as an Embalmer for a while. After seeing enough dead people, it's easy to keep a calm mind."

"As for desire..." Li Xiang shrugged.

"Your father's Hong Tianbao. Who would dare get handsy with you? Wouldn't that be like an old man eating arsenic because he thinks he's lived too long?"

Ye Qingyao burst out laughing.

Her smile was like a hundred flowers blooming. Her cool reserve melted away at once, revealing a young woman's playful charm.

"You do say amusing things."

She put away her smile and took her stance again, her gaze growing more serious.

"That last move was good. You caught me at exactly the right spot. But if I'd brought my knife up toward your groin with a reverse cut, you'd be a eunuch by now."

"Again. I'll train you properly, and in seven days we'll give them a huge surprise."