The Black Market Boss

For three days after returning from Greenwood Mountain, Yi Yang had not been idle.

He played sick by day and practiced by night. Jiang Yuexin cooked porridge for him every day, and Yang Hui occasionally brought food over too.

To outsiders, Old Yi's life had been pried straight out of King Yama's ledger. Merely being able to sit up and breathe was a blessing from his ancestors.

But only Yi Yang knew the truth.

His wounds had long since scabbed over. His body, at the Muscle Training Realm of the Qi-Blood Second Level, could take more punishment than he had expected.

The problem was that his progress was too slow.

That night, after Yi Yang finished practicing the Yi Wood Longevity Stance, small text appeared before his eyes.

[Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art, third layer: (1080/6000)]

Three days.

With medicinal baths and stance training, this was as far as he had gotten.

Any ordinary martial artist who saw this would probably grind their teeth to pieces.

He called that slow progress for three days? Was that even something a human would say?

Ordinary martial artists needed two or three years of grueling work to break through a realm. Those with insufficient aptitude might even get stuck, making no progress for years.

Yet Yi Yang felt no pride whatsoever. His current situation was anything but safe.

Yang Da was still serving as constable captain in the county seat, and his strength was probably at the Qi-Blood Third Level. Yi Yang was no match for him yet.

Wang Yue was dead, and Yang Er was dead. There was no telling how long pinning the blame on the Nine Evil Sect would hold.

Sitting beneath the eaves, Yi Yang pondered quietly. "I still need to buy medicine."

Blood Qi Powder offered him too little nourishment now.

If he truly wanted to push quickly toward the Sinew Tempering Realm of the Qi-Blood Third Realm, he needed something better.

Qi-Blood Pills, for instance, or precious Treasure Medicine that could nourish his sinews and bones.

But Three Trees Village had nothing like that, nor did the ordinary medicine shops in Cloud Pattern Town.

Perhaps he could find some at the Black Market.

Late that night, Yi Yang changed into an old gray jacket, smeared stove ash over his face, and wrapped his hair in a cloth. Once again, he became that impoverished old man.

The light in Jiang Yuexin's room had already gone out. The young girl slept fitfully, occasionally turning over with a soft creak of the wooden bed. Yi Yang listened outside her door for a while before leaving through the backyard.

The Black Market outside Cloud Pattern Town was still in the same abandoned village.

Battered lanterns covered in black cloth cast pitifully narrow pools of light, leaving every face in shadow.

A different man guarded the entrance this time, but the fee was still half a copper coin.

The guard looked him up and down twice without asking much.

"Go on in. You know the rules."

The Black Market was even busier than last time. Some people sold mountain goods, others old weapons, and others had set out a few packets of Blood Qi Powder, shouting so hard that spittle flew.

"Blood Qi Powder straight from a proper Martial Arts Hall! Three taels a dose, fair prices for young and old!"

A short man beside the stall undercut the pitch. "You carved those red seals out of a radish yourself, and you call that fair prices for young and old? Go swindle your ancestors first."

The stallholder immediately glared and cursed, "If you can't afford it, piss off! Don't get in the way of me making money."

As Yi Yang browsed, his heart sank further and further. There really was not much worth buying at this Black Market.

Blood Qi Powder, inferior tiger bone powder, snake-infused liquor.

There were pitifully few things that could noticeably improve a martial artist at the Qi-Blood Second Level.

It was not that such things did not exist. No one put them out for sale.

The good stuff was all in the hands of people with connections.

Great families, gangs, Martial Arts Halls, the authorities.

Did those at the bottom want to practice martial arts?

They could.

First, they had to hand over both their money and their lives. Others held cultivation resources in their grasp, no different from gripping them by the throat.

Yi Yang stopped in front of a medicinal herb stall.

The stallholder was the same short, plump woman who had sold him Blood Qi Powder last time. Her abacus clacked briskly. When she looked up and saw him, her brows shifted slightly.

"Buying more Blood Qi Powder, old sir?"

"No."

"Get me some herbs." Yi Yang listed the ingredients for the Blood-Strengthening Decoction, mixing in a few herbs that were not part of the prescription to keep anyone from figuring it out.

The woman worked quickly, wrapping the Blackbone Vine, Red Ginseng Whiskers, tiger bone powder, and several other ingredients separately before tying them securely with string.

Yi Yang put away the packets and paid eight taels of silver.

He made another half circuit of the market and asked at three stalls.

Qi-Blood Pills?

None.

Bone-Strengthening Pills?

Hearing that, the stallholder assumed Yi Yang had come to make trouble and said bluntly, "You've got some nerve, old sir. Even the Martial Arts Halls in the county seat fight over Bone-Strengthening Pills. Put those on display in a dump like this tonight, and the seller will be hanging from a tree tomorrow morning."

Yi Yang turned and left after hearing that. There was no point asking anymore. Most of what was displayed here was meant for those at the Blood Qi First Stage.

For resources a level above that, someone had to make an introduction.

Yi Yang was about to leave the Black Market with nothing in his robe but a few packets of ingredients for the Blood-Strengthening Decoction.

The night wind swept over the abandoned fields, stirring the grass.

After walking some distance, Yi Yang kept his pace unchanged, but his ears picked up the rhythm behind him.

Someone was following him.

The footsteps were steady.

This was no riffraff like that scar-faced fellow from last time. Yi Yang followed the path toward the edge of town, then turned into a narrow alley.

Abandoned earthen walls lined both sides, with unruly grass growing along their tops. The eaves sliced the moonlight into scattered fragments.

The person behind him followed him in.

Yi Yang reached the end of the alley and abruptly stopped.

His pursuer stopped too.

A dozen or so paces separated them.

With his back to the man, Yi Yang let the packets of herbs hang at his side.

"Following me all this way. Aren't you tired?"

A quiet chuckle came from behind him.

"Sharp ears, old sir."

Yi Yang turned.

In the moonlight stood a broad-shouldered, thick-backed man wearing a bamboo hat that concealed half his face. Heavy calluses covered his palms.

It was Ren Hao, the burly man who had bought the Purplewood earlier.

Yi Yang looked at him with an unfriendly gaze. "The deal's done. Now you want after-sales service?"

Ren Hao froze for a moment, then spread his hands to show that he held no weapon and said:

"Don't misunderstand. My boss would like to invite you for a drink."

Yi Yang gathered his sleeves and said mildly, "I'm too old to drink."

"My boss said that if you don't want to come, we won't force you."

Ren Hao paused, then relayed the instructions his boss had given him. "But he said you won't find what you're looking for at the Black Market stalls. He might have it."

Yi Yang lowered his eyelids. He understood what the man meant.

Resources.

Once those words surfaced, there were many things he could no longer pretend not to have heard.

He watched Ren Hao for a while before agreeing:

"Lead the way."

Ren Hao stepped aside. "This way, old sir."

Yi Yang did not leave his back entirely exposed to him. They walked one ahead of the other, keeping half an alley's distance between them.

After half an hour, they entered a restaurant on the west street of Cloud Pattern Town.

The restaurant served customers during the day, but its doors were shut at night.

Ren Hao knocked three times, paused for two breaths, then knocked once more.

The door opened.

The waiter inside saw Ren Hao and asked no questions, taking them straight to a private room upstairs.

The private room was brightly lit.

Wine and dishes sat on the table, still steaming.

A burly man occupied the seat of honor.

He was in his thirties, with a square face, a short beard, and a chest broad enough to prop up a door. He wore fitted black clothes, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and an old scar marked his wrist.

He put on no airs as he sat there, yet he naturally commanded the room.

It was not the bloated bluster of a village bully, but the air of a man of the martial world who had seen blood and kept trouble under his heel.

Ren Hao cupped his hands and said respectfully, "Boss, I've brought him."

The burly man rose and lifted his wine bowl. "Old sir, my name is Zhao Gang."

"Around this Black Market in Cloud Pattern Town, the brothers do me the honor of calling me Brother Gang."

After hearing his name, Yi Yang did not sit. He simply waited quietly to see what the man had invited him here for.

Zhao Gang smiled and pulled out a chair. "No need to stand on ceremony, old sir. We have to sit down to talk business."

Only then did Yi Yang sit. Cultivation resources were at stake, after all.

Zhao Gang did not mind and poured him a bowl of wine himself. "No need to be nervous, old sir. This invitation isn't a banquet with blades hidden behind the cups. If I really wanted to use force, I wouldn't have sent Ren Hao alone."

Yi Yang glanced at the wine bowl without picking it up. "At my age, drinking gets in the way."

"Tea, then."

Zhao Gang pushed the wine aside and replaced it with tea.

His movements were brisk, with no dragging through mud or water.

"Old Man Yi, from Three Trees Village, a woodcutter by trade. You have a young girl at home. When those snakes caused trouble on Greenwood Mountain recently, you went up there too."

"And apparently a constable died on the mountain."

Yi Yang's hand paused half an inch into lifting his tea.

Zhao Gang noticed and lowered his voice.

"Don't misunderstand. In Black Market business, there are two kinds of people we fear most."

"Those with no brains."

"And those who hide too deeply."

"A constable died on Greenwood Mountain. I won't ask whether you had anything to do with it."

Zhao Gang lifted his wine and took a sip. "I'll ask just one thing, Old Man Yi. Interested in working together?"

The private room fell silent after Zhao Gang finished speaking.

Ren Hao stood by the door, his eyes fixed on Yi Yang. His arms hung at his sides, but his shoulders and back were already poised to act.

Yi Yang ran a finger along the rim of his teacup and asked without betraying anything, "Doing what?"

"The Black Market needs someone who can keep order."

Zhao Gang spoke plainly. "I have silver, connections, medicine, and information. You have skill, and you know how to keep your head. We join forces, help each other make money, and block blades for each other."

Yi Yang coughed twice, his old face looking utterly weary.

"You think too highly of me, Boss Zhao. I'm almost sixty, already half buried in the earth. Keep order? Keeping watch over a grave would be more like it."

Zhao Gang stared at him, disbelief plain in his eyes. "That line might fool the villagers, old sir. Fooling me takes a little more."

Yi Yang set down his tea and refused again. "I'm old. I really can't take that kind of trouble anymore."

Zhao Gang did not get angry. He merely said earnestly:

"Have you thought it through?"

"At my age, anything I haven't thought through has long since been buried in the dirt."

Zhao Gang suddenly burst out laughing and slapped the table. "Interesting. Fine, I won't force you."

Ren Hao frowned and was about to speak, but Zhao Gang raised a hand to stop him.

Zhao Gang took a small porcelain bottle from his robe and placed it on the table.

"Qi-Blood Pills. Five taels of silver each."

Yi Yang's eyelids twitched at the sight of the bottle.

"Don't complain about the price," Zhao Gang said. "Sometimes they sell for six taels in the county seat, and even then, it depends on whose favor you have. Consider this price a gesture of friendship."

Yi Yang picked up the porcelain bottle and pulled out the stopper. There were six pills inside.

Their medicinal scent was rich, far stronger than that of Blood Qi Powder.

"I'll take them all."

Yi Yang took out his silver. Thirty taels, not a piece short.

Zhao Gang wasted no words either. He accepted the silver and pushed over the medicine.

"If you need anything from now on, you can send word through Ren Hao. Even if you don't join us, we can still do business."

Yi Yang put away the bottle and finally spoke politely. "You're a straightforward man, Boss Zhao."

Zhao Gang lifted his wine, tipped back his head, and drained it in one go. "The door is always open. If you change your mind someday, Old Man Yi, come have a drink with me."

Yi Yang rose and gave a solemn bow. "I'll pass on the wine. Tea is fine."

Zhao Gang laughed so heartily that his chest shook. "Done. I'll have good tea ready for you."

Ren Hao escorted Yi Yang downstairs and did not stop until they reached the edge of town.

Yi Yang left along the night road without looking back.

Once he was far away, Ren Hao returned to the private room and could not help asking, "Boss, we're just letting him go? That old man's definitely hiding something. Purplewood, a giant snake, a constable-all tangled together. How could it be that much of a coincidence?"

Zhao Gang set down his wine bowl, much of the hearty warmth fading from his face.

"You want to go after him?"

Ren Hao said quietly, "We've got numbers on our side."

Zhao Gang looked up at him, his expression unreadable. "Could you tell what realm he was in?"

Ren Hao hesitated.

"Blood Qi First Stage?"

"Second Stage."

Zhao Gang tapped the tabletop. "Muscle Training Realm. And he's no newcomer to it."

Ren Hao's back tightened.

Zhao Gang snapped, "Take two men to corner him, and I guarantee there'll be three more corpses in the ditch outside town tomorrow morning. Numbers on our side? What good are numbers? A flock of sheep surrounding a tiger just means an extra meal."

Ren Hao lowered his head under the scolding.

Zhao Gang continued, "An old fellow like that, who lived to sixty and still dares to enter the Black Market alone, sell purplewood, and buy medicine-his killing intent runs deeper than well water. Push him into a corner, and there's no telling who dies first."

"Pass the word."

"From now on, everyone in the Black Market is to treat Yi Yang politely. No testing him, no following him, and no getting any ideas about his family."

Ren Hao nodded.

"Do we still keep an eye on him, then?"

Zhao Gang finished the wine in his bowl.

"Keep watching, but don't get too close. See what he buys, what he sells, and who he meets. Watch only. Don't touch."

Ren Hao acknowledged the order.

Meanwhile, Yi Yang was already walking along the field ridges back to Three Trees Village.

The porcelain bottle rested against his chest. Six Qi-Blood Pills, thirty taels-nearly all the silver he had.

It hurt, but it was worth it.

Zhao Gang had uncovered his identity and brought up his trip up the mountain to kill the snake.

It was both a warning and a probe. Being watched by someone like that was no good thing.

The man held the Black Market in his grip, and deeper waters likely lay behind him.

But right now, the most pressing concern wasn't Zhao Gang.

It was getting stronger.

Yi Yang raised his head and glanced at the dark silhouette of Greenwood Mountain in the distance. He pressed the porcelain bottle close, his steps growing steadier.

The Qi-Blood Pills are in hand.

Time to push for Tendon Refining.