On his fifth day in Black Wind Ridge, Jiang Fa decided to leave.
His bundle already held six Azure-Maned Jackal pelts, four Iron-Backed Wolf pelts, twenty-one stalks of blood-coagulating grass, a pair of Stone-Skinned Wild Boar tusks and its hide, an Iron-Claw Savage Bear beast core, and the loose silver he had searched off that man earlier.
Sold to an apothecary and a blacksmith, these gains would fetch at least three or four hundred taels of silver altogether.
Not only could he pay off his debt to the Black Tiger Gang,
he could also buy plenty of medicinal herbs for cultivation.
He stayed in the cave for another four hours, making certain the Crimson-Scaled Python had gone far away before carefully opening a gap in the rubble and squeezing out.
The ground before the cliff was a wreck.
Shrubs had been crushed to splinters, several deep furrows had been plowed into the ground, and several trees as thick as a bowl's mouth had been snapped in half. A strong, rank stench still lingered in the air.
That Crimson-Scaled Python had probably rampaged around here for two hours.
Jiang Fa did not linger. After checking his bearings, he quickened his pace toward the edge of Black Wind Ridge.
The journey back was much faster than the journey in.
He stopped only briefly along the way, sitting on an old tree stump split by lightning to swallow the half piece of dry flatbread left from last night, dipping it in cold water. Once he finished, he continued without another moment's delay.
By the evening of the fifth day, he finally emerged from Black Wind Ridge's dense forest and stepped back onto the stretch of loose stones leading to Ghost Gate Gully.
In the distance, the opening of Ghost Gate Gully was faintly visible.
Just then, however, he stopped.
Two enormous boulders stood at the exit ahead. The narrow path between them was the only way out of Black Wind Ridge.
At that moment, two young men stood at the mouth of the narrow path,
one tall and thin as a bamboo pole, the other short and stocky as a stone block. Both wore matching gray martial outfits, with the words "Boulder" embroidered on their cuffs.
The two also spotted Jiang Fa emerging from the woods.
The tall, thin one spoke first. He looked Jiang Fa up and down, then spread his lips in a smile that never reached his eyes. "Well now, brother. Looks like you had quite a haul."
The short, stocky one's gaze swept over the broad saber at Jiang Fa's waist, the corners of his mouth lifting with undisguised greed.
Jiang Fa said nothing. He merely stood where he was, his right hand settling inconspicuously onto his saber hilt.
The tall, thin young man's gaze paused on the bulging bundle behind Jiang Fa, and his smile deepened,
"We'll buy everything you're carrying for ten taels of silver."
Jiang Fa said nothing.
Ten taels of silver.
The Iron-Backed Wolf pelts in his bundle alone were worth dozens of taels, never mind the twenty-one stalks of blood-coagulating grass and the Iron-Claw Savage Bear beast core.
Ten taels of silver.
How was that any different from outright robbery?
"What, not enough?" The tall, thin young man raised his eyebrows, mockery creeping into his voice.
Jiang Fa still said nothing.
It was not that he did not want to speak. His throat had yet to recover.
Although the Crimson-Scaled Python's blow had broken no bones, it had badly jarred his internal organs. Even now, he had not fully suppressed the blood surging in his chest.
He feared that the moment he opened his mouth, the blood he was holding down would come spraying out.
The tall, thin young man's smile gradually chilled.
"You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit." He tilted his head toward the short, stocky young man beside him. "Tiezhu, teach him the rules."
At those words, the two spread apart in practiced coordination, loosely blocking the left and right sides of the narrow entrance.
Both were middle stage of Ming Jin martial artists,
and after spending years around Black Wind Ridge, forcing people to buy or sell was familiar work.
They were no fools. With their lives on the line in this business, they naturally knew to size up the person before serving the dish.
Someone like Jiang Fa, an unfamiliar face foolish enough to enter the mountains alone,
was clearly a greenhorn.
However strong he was, how strong could he possibly be?
Besides, Jiang Fa was covered in blood, clearly badly wounded.
In their eyes, Jiang Fa was now a fish on the chopping block.
Was he not theirs to butcher as they pleased?
The short, stocky young man grinned and strode toward Jiang Fa.
His smile widened as he walked.
This ordinary-looking brat had actually been so lucky. He was a fat sheep, too.
Their days of lying in wait had not been wasted.
The tall, thin young man toyed with his short saber, standing lazily to one side with a cold, sinister smile.
Jiang Fa watched the short, stocky young man approach without moving.
The short, stocky young man stopped three paces away and reached to snatch the bundle behind Jiang Fa. "I'm talking to you, damn it. Are you deaf?"
Just then,
Jiang Fa moved.
The broad saber in his hand became a streak of cold light, cleaving straight at the short, stocky young man's face without the slightest restraint.
He held nothing back in that strike. His force erupted, and the blade split the air with a shrill crack.
How could the short, stocky young man have expected this battered-looking man, who could barely stand steadily, to suddenly explode into action?
He hurriedly stepped back and crossed his arms to block, shouting fiercely, "You dare!"
Before the word "dare" had finished leaving his mouth, the saber struck.
The short, stocky young man wore thick, sturdy iron bracers. Ordinary blades would leave no more than a pale mark on them.
But Jiang Fa had put everything into this strike, pouring every bit of his strength into the blade without reserve.
The edge struck the bracer with a piercing metallic clang.
The next instant, it hacked a gash through the bracer and, without losing momentum, bit savagely into the short, stocky young man's arm.
Blood sprayed.
The short, stocky young man screamed and staggered back several steps, clutching his left arm with his right hand as blood streamed between his fingers.
Strike while he was down and take his life!
Jiang Fa gave him no chance to breathe. His second strike followed immediately, the blade slicing diagonally toward his throat.
A wet slicing sound rang out.
The short, stocky young man's body stiffened. Great gushes of bloody foam welled between the fingers clutching his neck.
He opened his mouth as though trying to say something, but only an indistinct whimper emerged.
The next instant, his body crashed to the ground, kicking up dust.
From drawing his saber to killing him, the entire exchange had taken only two or three breaths. Only when the short, stocky young man's corpse hit the ground did the tall, thin young man react.
"You're courting death!"
The tall, thin young man's expression changed sharply. With a fierce shout, he drew his saber and charged at Jiang Fa.
His saber technique was far fiercer than the short, stocky young man's. His blade traced streaks of cold light through the dusk, every strike aimed at Jiang Fa's throat or heart.
Even more troublesome was his far more agile footwork. He darted left and right, attacking from vicious, treacherous angles. He was clearly a veteran who had spilled blood.
Jiang Fa swung his saber to block, fending off one strike after another as the blood in his chest surged ever more violently.
The wound on his back split open again under the violent movements. Warm blood ran down his spine, soaking his waist.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself through seven or eight exchanges with the tall, thin young man. Each block jarred his arm numb. Several splits opened in the web of his hand, and blood dripped down the hilt.
Without his now much tougher physique, he probably could not have withstood even one strike from the tall, thin young man.
I can't let this drag on!
Jiang Fa thought to himself.
Judging by their exchange, his opponent's cultivation and strength differed little from his own at his peak. But wounded as he was now, he could not afford a prolonged fight. He had to finish this quickly.
If this continued, he would definitely be the first to fall.
Jiang Fa fought as he retreated. Suddenly, he seized an opening and deliberately offered a flaw, lowering his right shoulder half an inch.
The tall, thin young man's eyes lit up, and he thrust straight into Jiang Fa's exposed opening.
Now.
A sharp gleam flashed in Jiang Fa's eyes. He twisted sideways and took the strike squarely with his shoulder.
A sharp pain struck the instant the tip pierced his flesh, but his skin and muscles, tempered by the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art, were far tougher than an ordinary person's.
The tip penetrated less than half an inch before his muscles clamped it firmly in place, preventing it from going any deeper.
The tall, thin young man's expression changed drastically. He had never expected Jiang Fa's body to be so tough. He tried to pull his saber free and retreat, but it was already too late.
Jiang Fa clamped his left hand around the spine of the blade embedded in his shoulder. His right hand swept his broad saber horizontally, its edge flashing coldly as it struck the tall, thin young man's neck.
A wet slicing sound rang out.
Blood sprayed across Jiang Fa's face.
The tall, thin young man's eyes widened. In disbelief, he looked down at the blood-spurting wound in his neck.
His mouth opened, but before he could utter a single word, he toppled onto his back.
Jiang Fa released the blade's spine, pulled the short saber from his shoulder, and tossed it to the ground. He staggered back two steps and slumped heavily against a large rock.
His chest heaved violently. Unable to suppress the bloody taste in his throat any longer, he retched out a mouthful of dark red blood.
He leaned against the rock and panted for a good while before slowly crouching down to search the two bodies.
From the tall, thin young man's sleeve, he found a dozen or so taels of loose silver wrapped in gray cloth. He weighed it in his hand; it was probably a little over ten taels.
A thin booklet was also concealed inside his robe. Its cover was roughly tanned cowhide, bearing three large, crooked characters: Wind-Chasing Steps.
Jiang Fa opened it and took a look.
It was a movement technique manual, yellow rank upper grade.
No wonder the tall, thin young man's footwork had been so agile. This was what he practiced.
A yellow rank upper grade movement technique was already quite a fine thing in Qingshan County. In a martial hall,
even inner courtyard disciples would have difficulty gaining access to it. Only with the hall master's permission would they qualify to learn it.
He tucked the Wind-Chasing Steps manual into his robe, then searched the short, stocky young man's belongings. Aside from a few pieces of loose silver and a waist token engraved with "Boulder," there was nothing else.
The Boulder Martial Hall!
Like the Zhao Clan Martial Hall, it was one of Qingshan County's five great martial halls.
"Looks like these two were disciples of the Boulder Martial Hall."
Jiang Fa frowned at the waist token in his hand.
After some thought, he decided to tuck the waist tokens back onto their bodies.
Then he dragged the two corpses into a hollow beneath the cliff and hastily buried them with loose stones.
As for whether the Boulder Martial Hall would follow the faintest clues and trace these two deaths back to him,
Jiang Fa was not too worried.
Black Wind Ridge stretched for hundreds of li, and dragons and fish mingled here. Not only did people from Qingshan County come here, but martial artists from several neighboring counties did as well.
People died here almost every day.
The deaths of one or two martial hall disciples were hardly unusual.
Once he had finished everything, he straightened, endured the pain, and let out a long breath of stale air.
The panel quietly appeared in his mind.
[Mountain-Breaking Stance, second level: 320/500], up twelve points from before. [Mountain-Breaking Fist · minor achievement: 423/500], up six points. [Cloak Saber Technique · entry: 144/200], up twenty-one points. [Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art · first layer: 350/1000], up eight points.
He bent to pick up the bundle from the ground, secured it on his back again, took up his broad saber, and strode out through the narrow path.