Queya Zai died with his eyes wide open, staring blankly in disbelief.
"Did Third Master's backer come knocking?"
Having dispatched a Black Membrane expert in a single palm strike, Li Xiuwen removed the ghost mask and studied the face. He didn't recognize him.
"I have to say, Old Huang's proprietary Soul-Crushing Powder truly never fails in actual combat."
In the deserted night, Li Xiuwen lifted the black-clad man's corpse and quickly vanished into the darkness.
When he reappeared, he was back in the familiar sewers. Faint, eerie green lights flickered in the distance—crocodiles.
Li Xiuwen searched the body. All told, the martial artist was carrying barely a hundred dollars in loose change. Of course, no ordinary person in this world would wander around with a fortune on them, and things like storage bags didn't exist.
In the darkness, a glint of gold caught his eye in the man's mouth. Li Xiuwen pried it open and found a gold tooth.
"Good stuff." He yanked the gold tooth out, tossed the corpse forward, and chuckled. "Dinner's served, boys."
As soon as his voice fell, dark silhouettes clamped onto the body and dragged it beneath the murky water.
Li Xiuwen took a different route out of the sewers. When he had plotted to kill Third Master some time ago, he had mapped the drainage network around Longjin Road down to the smallest detail.
"Peak Black Membrane, a gold tooth, acting on someone's orders, and reeking of cheap smoke..."
"With these clues, I might just be able to track down who sent him."
* * *
Returning to Chen's Noodle Factory, he found both his aunt and uncle safe and sound.
"Did anyone come by the house over the past few days?" Li Xiuwen asked.
"No..." His aunt shook her head, then asked with concern, "Did something happen?"
Li Xiuwen said, "Try not to leave the house much for the next few days. If anything happens, call the martial arts hall immediately."
His aunt's eyes widened. Glancing around anxiously, she lowered her voice. "Ah Wen, are you in trouble?"
"I'm fine," Li Xiuwen said. "We'll move to the Central District later on. It's under Mr. Ming's watchful eye, so it'll be relatively safer there."
His aunt nodded. "All right. We'll do whatever you say."
* * *
Late that night, Li Xiuwen lay in bed and lifted his shirt. Five red imprints marked his abdomen, where the blood had already dried into scabs.
A lingering dread brushed over him. Since stepping onto the martial path, this was the first time he had suffered such a severe... surface wound!
It was entirely thanks to his Armor-Binding Art nearing minor success, combined with the fact that the man hadn't used his full strength in hopes of capturing him alive. Otherwise, that punch backed by brass knuckles would have driven straight into his gut.
He glanced at the [incense burner].
[Armor-Binding Art: Entry (91%)]
Had this been a hard qigong for the Skin and Membranes Gate like the Iron Shirt, how could an Entry-stage mastery offer this level of protection? As expected of a discipline that led directly to the Tiger and Elephant Gate!
Li Xiuwen pondered, *The enemy was so overconfident; he probably assumed I was only at Purple Membrane.*
If they had known he possessed a Black Membrane, they likely would have sent an expert of the second gate. This was precisely why the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall had a strict rule: without personal permission, no disciple was permitted to reveal a peer's true cultivation or martial realm to outsiders.
Huang Sihai was right. In this Walled City, one truly had to keep an ace hidden, show only a fraction of one's hand, and maintain a low profile.
This unseen enemy hung like a suspended blade over Li Xiuwen's head, shattering the tranquil days he had worked so hard to attain.
*The top priority is to reach the second floor and become Huang Sihai's formal disciple. Once that happens, ordinary people won't dare provoke me.*
Li Xiuwen couldn't sleep a wink that night, wary that the enemy might strike directly at Chen's Noodle Factory. Fortunately, his fears proved unfounded. The next day, the sun rose as usual, even if it could never be seen from inside the Walled City.
* * *
During the day, on his way to the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall, Li Xiuwen avoided his usual path. He decided he would never take a fixed route again. The Walled City had few virtues, but narrow gaps between buildings abounded, offering countless alternate routes.
Passing by a small alley, he spotted three scrawny punks beating someone.
"Old bastard, you dare steal our powder? Drop dead!"
"Look at this pathetic state you're in! If you come from a martial clan, then I'm the bloody Emperor!"
The person being beaten was an old man, curled up in a hunch, clutching his head and enduring the blows without a sound.
Once the punks had vented their fury, one noticed Li Xiuwen glancing over and sneered, "Hey kid, what the hell are you looking at?"
Ignoring him, Li Xiuwen walked over and looked down at the dying old man on the ground. He seemed to recognize him—it was the dragon-chaser who had babbled about possessing an unmatched divine technique. The old man's head was cracked open, spilling blood across the pavement.
Seeing that Li Xiuwen was ignoring him, one of the punks grew enraged. He jogged up and shoved Li Xiuwen hard, only to find the young man hadn't budged an inch.
Li Xiuwen merely cast him a cold glance. "Try shoving me again."
How could the punk fail to realize this was a trained fighter? He dropped to his knees with a thud, snot and tears streaming down his face at once.
"Big Boss, we were wrong! Here, take all our money, just spare our lives!"
The punks emptied every bit of change from their pockets and handed it to Li Xiuwen, totaling three hundred dollars.
Taking the cash, Li Xiuwen smiled faintly. "At least you're sensible... Do you have a boss?"
The punks shook their heads. "Big Boss, we grew up on this street. We're just petty hoodlums with no martial background. No boss wants us."
Li Xiuwen nodded with a smile. "Very well. Since you don't have a boss, let me give you a lesson on how to survive in the Walled City."
Assuming the master intended to let them off, the punks beamed with gratitude. "Thank you, Big Boss!"
Li Xiuwen suddenly swung his hand.
*Smack! Smack! Smack!*
Three swift backhands.
The three punks went flying, smashing hard against the wall before slumping to the ground, spitting bloody froth and seeing stars as blood pooled from their heads.
Walking over to one of the half-dead punks, Li Xiuwen hoisted him up by his collar and asked with a grin, "Did you learn anything?"
Feeling the brush of death, the punks wet themselves in sheer terror, urine pooling beneath them as they wept. "Big Boss, just spell it out for us! We're stupid, we don't understand!"
Li Xiuwen said in a deep voice, "The lesson is to value peace and treat others with courtesy... so you don't cross someone you shouldn't and end up beaten to death. Do you understand now?"
The punks managed smiles that looked worse than crying. "Big Boss, we understand."
"Now that you understand, get lost... and don't let me see you again."
"Yes, we'll roll away right now!"
The punks dropped flat to the ground and actually rolled away. When they had hit the wall earlier, their legs had snapped; they were crippled for good.
Judging by how swiftly those three had dropped to their knees and begged, this clearly wasn't the first time they had crossed a martial artist. Some people simply never learned from their beatings. With those strikes, these walking corpses hollowed out by opium wouldn't survive past tomorrow in this lawless Walled City. In all likelihood, they would be picked clean by other punks or dragon-chasers, and whatever usable parts remained would be sold on the black market for powder money.
Li Xiuwen considered himself merciful for granting them a relatively painless departure from this misery. Had it been someone with a shorter temper, their heads would have been twisted off to use as chamber pots on the spot, leaving not even a complete corpse behind. There was no helping it; these days, too many fools in the Walled City had their minds corroded by opium, having long lost all sense of reason and judgment.
"It's you..." The mad old man opened his eyes, looking up at Li Xiuwen. "You've practiced martial arts."
"Oh? You still remember me?" Li Xiuwen was slightly surprised.
"I come from a martial clan. I've read poetry and classics since childhood; my memory is sharp." With death drawing near, the old man's tone was no longer deranged, sounding like an ordinary, sane person.
Before, Li Xiuwen would have dismissed such claims as nonsense. The Walled City was a chaotic melting pot teeming with refugees from all corners of the world. Those claiming to be scions of martial families or nobility from the fallen dynasty numbered eight hundred if not a thousand. Ninety-nine point nine percent were swindlers who vanished the moment they got their hands on some money.
Yet after meeting Old Chen, his perspective had shifted slightly. A century ago, the Great Qian Dynasty was breached by foreign devils armed with demon-like martial combatants, foreign rifles, and heavy cannons. Over that prolonged war, countless martial clans had been ground into the dust of history.
"Which martial clan do you belong to?" Li Xiuwen asked with a smile.
The mad old man fell silent for a long moment, then began to weep. Tears mingled with the blood on his cheeks as he mumbled, "I... I can't remember anymore."
"What about that peerless ancestral technique from Sheng you mentioned? I'll buy it."
Harboring a faint glimmer of curiosity, Li Xiuwen took out fifty dollars and handed it to the old man. As a trained fighter now, he didn't fear being cheated; at worst, he could beat the old man to death and take the money back.
The mad old man accepted the bills and asked, "Is this enough to buy a coffin?"
Li Xiuwen shook his head. "Not enough."
"Then forget it." The mad old man shook his head and pushed the money away. Coughing weakly, he asked, "Young man, hearing your accent, you're from Sheng as well, aren't you?"
"I am."
"Will you ever go back in the future?"
"I will."
Sheng was the cradle of every martial lineage in Xianghai—the land of martial arts. Once he possessed enough strength, Li Xiuwen would certainly go see it for himself.
"If you ever set foot in Sheng one day, please take this to Mount Qianfo in Qizhou Prefecture of the Lu Region... I only know I came from there..."
As he spoke, the mad old man slipped off his tattered shoe, peeled back the foul-smelling insole, and pulled a piece of golden silk cloth from the inner lining.
Chapter 47