Two days later, at first light, Yi Yang left home with his old bamboo basket on his back.
Yang Hui's injuries had yet to heal. Those two bastards from the Shengcang Martial Hall had struck far too viciously. The village remedies could stop bleeding and reduce swelling, but internal injuries still needed a physician in town.
When Yi Yang reached the village entrance, Aunt Zhang was squatting by her doorstep, trimming beans. Seeing his basket, she hurriedly asked, "Old Master Yi, are you going to town again?"
Yi Yang nodded and said with a trace of sorrow, "Yes, to buy some medicine for Yang Hui. She still hasn't recovered. I watched her grow up. Whatever else, I ought to look after her."
Aunt Zhang felt her nose sting, yet her words came out as a curse. "That shrew's got a stubborn grip on life. Even King Yama would have to take a couple of tongue-lashings before claiming her."
Yi Yang smiled without answering and headed toward Cloud Pattern Town.
Cloud Pattern Town was far livelier than Three Trees Village.
White steam rose from the pancake stalls along the street. The smell of oil mingled with horse dung and crept into his nose-hardly pleasant, but undeniably real.
Yi Yang first went to an old clinic on the east side of town.
The resident physician's surname was Hu. His beard was grizzled, his eyelids drooped, and whenever he sized someone up, he liked to look at their shoes first.
The poor wore straw sandals, the rich wore soft boots. Before he even asked about an illness, his fees had already been divided into three tiers.
Yi Yang handed over the names of the medicines.
Physician Hu glanced at them and stroked his beard. "Internal injuries from a beating? That's no light injury."
Yi Yang sighed. "A poor person's life is fragile. She offended a martial artist and got hurt."
Physician Hu felt some sympathy at that and gathered the medicine briskly.
"Apply externally for three days and take orally for five. No cold water, no greasy food or fish. If the tightness and pain in her chest worsen, bring her here. Don't try to tough it out with folk remedies."
"How much?"
"Two taels and eight mace."
Yi Yang drew silver from inside his robe, moving slowly, as though he begrudged every copper coin.
Physician Hu's mouth twitched at the sight. "Fine, two taels and five mace. Consider it an act of kindness."
Yi Yang put the medicine away and cupped his hands in thanks.
After leaving the clinic, he did not hurry away. Instead, he made two circuits of the streets.
Tea stalls, grain shops, and the entrances to porters' guilds offered the widest assortment of news.
He bought a bowl of coarse tea and sat in a corner, gathering scraps of conversation from every direction.
"That case involving the Shengcang Martial Hall still hasn't been settled. Even the old hall master went to the county seat."
"The Nine Evil Sect's been downright sinister lately. People have died in several villages, two Shengcang martial artists are gone, and even Greenwood Mountain lost constables."
"Keep your voice down. Disaster comes out of the mouth."
Yi Yang held his tea and blew at the broken leaves floating on top.
Yang Shuqing had been missing for two days, yet no great stir had arisen in the county seat.
That was hardly surprising.
Yang Shuqing had just earned merit, then returned to his hometown overnight with two trusted subordinates.
The people at the County Office would merely assume he was handling private matters or had gone into secluded cultivation with a stash of pills.
Yi Yang also visited a medicinal herb stall to replenish a few supplementary ingredients for the Blood-Strengthening Decoction. These days, Blood Qi Powder and ordinary medicinal brews helped him less and less.
The silver in his robe was beginning to find itself in an awkward position, too.
After reaching qi-blood third level, silver was sometimes merely a brick to knock on a door with. Without the right connections, all he could do with that brick was drop it on his own foot.
Just as he was about to leave town, a man approached him from a street corner.
The man wore a short martial outfit, with broad shoulders and steady steps. He was Ren Hao, one of Zhao Gang's men.
Ren Hao cupped his hands from several paces away and said respectfully, "Elder Yi, my boss would like to invite you for tea."
Yi Yang glanced at him and did not refuse. He had wanted to see whether Zhao Gang had any cultivation resources available anyway.
"Let's go, then."
It was the same restaurant on West Street. During the day, it was open for business, with guests downstairs playing drinking games, but the private room on the second floor was quiet.
Zhao Gang sat by the window. There was tea on the table, not wine.
Today, he wore a black martial outfit with tightly bound cuffs. He looked like a blade half drawn from its sheath, its edge still contained, yet enough to command the room.
When Yi Yang entered, Zhao Gang stood. "Elder Yi, it's only been a few days, and your complexion has improved again."
Yi Yang set the medicine packages beside the table and sat down. "I snatched my life back from the mountains. King Yama wouldn't take me, so all I could do was eat a couple more bowls of porridge."
Zhao Gang studied him for a moment.
The old man still looked like a country fellow, with a worn short jacket, rough hands, and white hair at his temples.
But Zhao Gang practiced a method of reading vital energy and discerning strength. He judged a martial artist's approximate foundation from the movement of flesh, where their steps landed, and the length of their breaths. Unless they were stronger than him, he rarely misjudged them.
The last time he had seen Yi Yang, the man had been at qi-blood second level in the muscle training realm.
Looking at him today, he was still at the flesh-training stage, but his aura was far steadier. His strength had evidently advanced again.
Old monster, Zhao Gang cursed inwardly, though his smile remained hearty. "Elder, those abilities of yours command a higher price every day. If they keep rising like this, my little restaurant won't be able to afford to treat you to tea."
Yi Yang lifted his tea and took a sip, then said mildly, "Chief Zhao, you didn't invite me here just to praise an old man's vigor, did you?"
"Of course not."
Zhao Gang tapped his fingers on the table. "The winds in Yunlin County have shifted lately. I've been thinking there's a good opportunity I ought to tell you about."
Yi Yang set down his tea bowl and settled in to listen.
Zhao Gang lowered his voice and explained, "Elder, you should know that, until now, Yunlin County has openly been ruled by one society, two gangs, and three families."
"I don't know much about that. Explain it properly."
"The Three Origins Society, the Red Tiger Gang, the Black Blade Gang, and the Zhang, Wang, and Li families of the Inner City."
Zhao Gang used a chopstick to indicate several spots on the table.
"The Zhang, Wang, and Li families hold the Inner City. Grain, medicine, weapons, connections to the Martial Arts Halls—they swallow the lion's share of it all. The Three Origins Society handles trade routes, while the Red Tiger Gang and the Black Blade Gang handle the Outer City's dirty work. The county magistrate presides over the court, and the Commandant commands the troops, but when it comes to getting anything done, they still have to watch these people's faces."
Yi Yang listened without interrupting.
Zhao Gang continued, "But none of that matters. There's actually another major power in the county seat. It's simply kept a low profile until now, so outsiders don't know about it-the Heaven Patrol Office."
"The Heaven Patrol Office has a formidable background. Apart from the army, it's the dynasty's other blade, an office personally overseen by the Martial Saint in the imperial capital. Patrol Guards, Patrol Captains, deputy patrol chiefs-each rank is tougher than the last."
"But ordinarily, the Heaven Patrol Office can't just reach into local affairs. The great families and the authorities both guard against it. Without a pretext, it can only stand by and watch."
Yi Yang held the rim of his tea bowl, seemingly beginning to understand what Zhao Gang meant.
"And now it has a pretext."
"Exactly."
Zhao Gang uttered that single word, his expression darkening slightly.
"The Nine Evil Sect."
The private room fell silent for half a beat. The calls of the drinkers downstairs rose through the floorboards, sounding all the more clamorous.
Zhao Gang said, "The Nine Evil Sect has been active around here lately. Blackwater Village, Greenwood Mountain, other county seats-their shadow has touched them all. The higher-ups are already preparing to send a major figure from the Heaven Patrol Office to take charge in Yunlin County."
"A major figure?"
"At least a patrol director, perhaps someone even higher."
At this point, Zhao Gang picked up his teacup but did not drink. "The Heaven Patrol Office intends to use the Nine Evil Sect as an opening to expand from Yunlin County into the surrounding villages and towns. Right now, it needs people. Badly."
Yi Yang raised his eyes and remarked casually, "It seems you're one of them already, Chief Zhao?"
Zhao Gang grinned, and this time his smile was genuine.
"I've already joined. My post is Patrol Captain."
Before you continue