Qiqiu City, the laboratory.
Li Banfeng held an experimental report and pointed out an error. "Darling wife, it isn't completely dark inside the wormhole. I could see the path, and I could even see the people around it."
The gramophone held the report and compared the figures. "Husband, did you truly see them with your own eyes back then, or did you sense them through a technique?"
Li Banfeng recalled what had happened. "I'm certain I saw them. I wasn't using any techniques at the time, not even my pathway talents. I really should have brought the projector inside to have a look, but his mental state wasn't very stable then."
The gramophone wanted to go in and see as well. "Without seeing it for myself, your servant cannot help feeling unsatisfied. Yet your servant's soul remains unstable. If I were to enter rashly..."
"Don't rush, wife. There will be plenty of chances in the future. You must trust me on this: there truly is light inside the wormhole."
The gramophone reorganized her formulas. "If there is light, one ought to be able to see the gap between the first dark bridge and the second dark bridge. If a rope were lowered through that gap, it should be possible to haul the people beneath the bridges back onto them. But figuring out how to craft such a rope will require some effort. Husband, the materials needed to make it might be difficult to purchase, and they won't come cheap. We must make plans well in advance."
Li Banfeng wasn't worried. "He Jiaqing has practically returned everything he owed. Since I did Shen Jingye such a massive favor, it's time he contributed a bit as well."
In balancing those accounts, Shen Jingye hadn't been the only one to profit; He Jiaqing had also reaped substantial gains. Under Li Banfeng's coordination, over twenty of his businesses had opened one after another, and his financial standing was steadily improving.
Once money was in hand, the next step was to expand the operation. If a man owned a hundred businesses, then losing thirty would hardly scratch him. That was the operating principle He Jiaqing had always upheld.
Yet executing this principle required personnel—and not just ordinary workers. He needed capable men and fierce generals.
Fortunately, both his old subordinates and his new core members performed admirably. In under a month, sixteen new shops had opened across Puluo Province.
He Jiaqing made the rounds to inspect each one, placing particular emphasis on the newly opened silk store run by Big Head. The store was located on Fuxiang Avenue in Green Water City, just across the street from the Paramount, in the city's most bustling district.
Opening a shop in such a spot was no easy feat. Big Head's silk store was quite large—three rooms wide and two stories tall, selling both raw fabrics and tailored garments.
He Jiaqing was exceedingly pleased and rewarded Big Head handsomely. "Brother, life in Puluo Province can't compare to the Outer States. There's no television or mobile phones at night. Following me, you're still suffering grievances."
Big Head didn't feel wronged in the slightest. The silk store employed dozens of workers, every single one of whom bowed respectfully whenever they saw him. "This kind of dignity can only be fought for here in Puluo Province. Jiaqing, I owe everything I have today to you."
"Brothers have no need for such talk. I was thinking our shop could branch out into other goods. With such a massive storefront, sticking purely to fabrics is a waste. Why don't we—what's wrong with your leg?"
As the two climbed the stairs, He Jiaqing noticed something off about Big Head's footing.
"It's nothing. I was in a rush walking yesterday and sprained my ankle."
In the Outer States, Big Head was registered with the Dark Star Bureau as a rank-five combatant.
Yet his foundation-establishing elixir had been an ancestral heirloom. He wasn't a combatant; he was a proper Martial Cultivator.
During his time in the Outer States, Big Head had consumed a great deal of medicinal pills alongside He Jiaqing, and through diligent training, his cultivation had long reached the sixth rank.
After arriving in Puluo Province, supplied with vast quantities of medicinal pills by He Jiaqing, Big Head was now a rank-seven Martial Cultivator.
A rank-seven Martial Cultivator spraining his ankle while walking? Who would believe that?
"Brother, what's really going on? Give it to me straight!"
Pressed repeatedly, Big Head finally spoke the truth.
Acquiring this silk store had been no simple task. The property had originally belonged to the Su family, a household of some prominence in Green Water City. However, after clashing with the Qingyun Society, their businesses had taken a severe hit, forcing them to surrender the shop.
Anyone with discerning eyes could tell that the Qingyun Society had targeted the Su family specifically to seize this silk store. No one expected Big Head to step in with a higher bid, snatching the property right out from under them. The move infuriated Han Yaomen, the chief of the Qingyun Society.
Han Yaomen had personally led men to ambush Big Head. As a frontline operative of the Dark Star Bureau, Big Head possessed exceptional adaptability. He managed to break free from Han Yaomen's clutches and preserve his life, though not without injuring a leg.
With his hands behind his back, He Jiaqing stood at the landing of the second-floor stairs, leaning forward to gaze out toward the front door. "This shop truly is fine. Even its feng shui looks prosperous. No wonder Han Yaomen has been eyeing it for so long. Big Head, swallow your pride for today. No matter how the Qingyun Society tries to stir up trouble, don't engage with them."
Big Head thought this approach was a mistake. Allowing the Qingyun Society to run roughshod over them would mean suffering the same fate as the Su family; sooner or later, they would have to give up the shop.
He Jiaqing smiled. "We aren't the Su family. We aren't like any family here. The bad habits in Puluo Province are due for a change."
That very day, men from the Qingyun Society showed up to cause trouble. Several thugs swaggered in under the guise of selecting fabrics, fingering and feeling every roll until the silks were smeared with grime and grease.
They browsed for an entire day without purchasing a single item. The customers inside were frightened off, and prospective shoppers outside didn't dare enter.
Under normal circumstances, Big Head would have thrown them out long ago.
Yet He Jiaqing had ordered him not to lift a finger, so he endured until closing time that evening.
Having successfully sabotaged the silk store's business, the thugs considered their mission accomplished. They crossed the street to the gambling den opposite to collect their reward from the proprietor.
The proprietor of the gambling den was a Xingyi Master of the Qingyun Society, a mid-level figure. He handed out silver to the thugs.
"Go back tomorrow and make an even bigger scene. Beat a few of their clerks, ruin a batch of their cloth, and force them to lay hands on you. Remember: the instant they strike, throw yourselves onto the floor and let them hit you, let them kick you. The worse you're injured, the bigger your reward!"
The thugs took their silver with broad grins. Early the next morning, they returned to the silk store.
Big Head gritted his teeth in fury and asked He Jiaqing, "Are we still holding back?"
Leaning against the banister on the stairs, He Jiaqing watched the scene unfolding in the lobby. "Not today. Beat them soundly, but leave them alive."
One of the thugs pointed at He Jiaqing and cursed, "What the hell are you staring at? Never seen your granddaddy before?"
He Jiaqing said to Big Head, "Cripple that one. Make sure he never walks again."
The thug bellowed from the ground floor, "What did you just say? Say that again, let me hear it!"
Big Head leaped down from the second floor, grabbed the thug by his hair, shoved him to the floor, and snapped one of his legs underfoot. "He just said to make sure you never walk again."
The thug shrieked, "You hit me? You dare hit me? Do you know who I—"
*Crack!*
Big Head broke the thug's other leg.
The thug blacked out from the sheer agony. The remaining hooligans yelled at the top of their lungs, "The boss here is beating people! What kind of business is this? Come quick and look—"
Before the words finished, a mouthful of teeth went flying.
Seeing Big Head take action, the guards in the silk store didn't stay idle either. They seized the thugs and beat them mercilessly.
None of these hoodlums possessed any cultivation; how could they endure such a pummeling? In under ten minutes, the battered group was tossed out onto the street.
They lay on the pavement weeping and wailing for quite a while, but no one paid them any mind. Eventually, supporting one another, they hobbled toward the gambling den.
The gambling den boss had instructed them yesterday: taking a beating counted as a great service, and the worse their injuries, the greater the payout. Their injuries today were indeed severe; several would likely be crippled for life. Yet when they thought of the promised sum, the pain didn't seem so unbearable.
The gambling den was dead silent. Perhaps they had arrived too early and business had not yet begun.
Entering the main hall, they looked around, but not a soul was in sight. The thug with broken legs crawled along the floor; with his lower vantage point, he was the first to spot someone.
"Under the tables! They're all lying under the tables!"
Why would they all be under the tables?
The thug bent down and called out for some time. A great many people were indeed lying beneath the tables, but not one of them responded.
Fear gripped the hooligans. Their leader dragged a body out from beneath a table, only to discover that the head was missing.
He dragged out two more; they were headless as well.
The thugs lost their wits in sheer terror. Scrambling and tumbling out of the gambling den, they ran through the streets, screaming at the top of their lungs, "The heads are gone! Where are the heads? Where did the heads go?!"
The heads had been arranged in a line right outside the entrance of the Qingyun Society's headquarters, placed one by one directly before Han Yaomen's eyes.
Han Yaomen ground his teeth. "He Jiaqing, since you've chosen to strike with lethal malice, don't blame me for showing no mercy!"
Outside Green Water City, within a residential courtyard, He Jiaqing was brewing tea for Xiao Qianshou, the Patriarch of Thief Cultivators.
Xiao Qianshou lifted the teacup, took half a sip, and shook his head. "The temperature was off. The tea turned out astringent. You little brat, did you take what I told you to do to heart?"
He Jiaqing boiled a fresh pot of water. "Ancestor, I bear your instructions in mind every single day. How could I dare treat them lightly?"
"I told you to investigate the medicinal powder formula, yet there hasn't been a whisper of news to this day. Instead, I hear you've picked a fight with the Qingyun Society?"
He Jiaqing switched to a different container of tea leaves. "Merely trivial matters, you needn't worry. This is foreign black tea newly brought into my tea shop. Have a taste of its flavor."
"I won't drink that. I can't stomach the tea of foreigners." Xiao Qianshou pushed the cup aside and looked at He Jiaqing. "Do you think the gangs in Puluo Province are all so easy to deal with?"
It seemed there was no dodging the subject. He Jiaqing nodded slightly. "Yes, I truly didn't take the Qingyun Society seriously. Han Yaomen is merely a local rank seven. Why should I yield to him?"
"Han Yaomen is indeed only a rank seven, but the Qingyun Society is not so simple. That gang has been around for ages; its roots run deep. Han Yaomen's grandmaster is a Sound Cultivator above the clouds, as well as a local spirit in his own right. And behind his grandmaster stand other backers, linked tier upon tier—you have no idea how many people are tied to them. Every gang that can hold its ground in Puluo Province has an extraordinary background. Is it worth poking a hornet's nest like that over a bit of business?"
He Jiaqing nodded repeatedly. "Ancestor, I will remember your words."
Xiao Qianshou sighed. "I trusted you back then because I believed you were shrewd, calculating, and kept your cards close to your chest. You are someone capable of great things; do not derail the overarching plan over petty squabbles."
"How could this be a petty squabble? This concerns the He family." He Jiaqing placed the fresh tea before Xiao Qianshou.
Xiao Qianshou frowned. "Is He family business really that important?"
He Jiaqing smiled. "How could it not be? I am a man of the He family."
"Brat, are you deliberately talking back to me?" Xiao Qianshou's expression darkened.
He Jiaqing hurried to apologize. "Ancestor, how would I dare? I've been busy with matters lately and spoke without proper measure. Please don't take offense."
Once the tea was finished, He Jiaqing excused himself to attend to business and took his leave.
Xiao Qianshou spun the teacup across his fingertips, playing with it back and forth.
After a moment, he suddenly chuckled. "Brat, you really think you're somebody, don't you? Did you honestly think I held you in high regard? If I hadn't lost my hand, there would be no need for you to handle anything. That first hand is simply too hard to replace. Xie Juncong is old, and the others are useless. You seemed the most suitable. But since you won't listen to me, we'll just have to make the most of what you have to offer."
The headquarters of the Qingyun Society was also known as the Dragonhead Hall.
The chief of the Qingyun Society was likewise called the Dragonhead Master.
Dragonhead Master Han Yaomen summoned thirty elites from various branches across the society, gathering them that night in the Dragonhead Hall. Their mission was singular: burn down the silk store on Fuxiang Avenue.
"If I can't take that shop, no one else gets to lay a finger on it! As long as tonight's task is done, those who want money get money, those who want territory get territory, and those who want a wife get a wife—choose whatever you like according to our society's rules!"
Such was the Qingyun Society's tradition. They did not set fixed sums for rewards; instead, they defined a scope and let their members pick for themselves.
Of course, one had to show discretion in what they asked for. If someone performed a grand service and demanded the songstress Jiang Mengting as his bride, that would naturally be another matter.
With orders made clear, the thirty elites set out toward the silk store, only to return in less than ten minutes.
Everyone in the headquarters was bewildered. How could they be back already?
Under normal circumstances, traveling from the Dragonhead Hall to Fuxiang Avenue took over an hour. These men possessed cultivation and naturally moved faster than ordinary folk, but a round trip should still have taken at least half an hour. Furthermore, they hadn't gone for a leisurely stroll; they had gone to commit arson. How could they have returned so quickly?
When Han Yaomen opened the wooden crate left in the center of the hall, his subordinates understood.
Packed inside were thirty human heads. On the crate's lid, He Jiaqing had written a single line: *I have returned your men to you.*
Han Yaomen was consumed by fury. Gathering his forces, he prepared to march directly on the He residence to fight to the death, but Yue Hongliang, a veteran of the society, blocked his path.
"Chief, you cannot go. If you go, our society will be wiped out."
Han Yaomen snarled, "What kind of talk is that? Have you been scared out of your wits?"
Yue Hongliang shook his head. "Chief, I'm over seventy years old. After so many years in the storm of blood and blades, I've long lived my fill. What do I have to fear? I am fearing for our society!"
Han Yaomen sat in his chair, saying nothing. Yue Hongliang seized the chance to dismiss the others before speaking again. "Chief, the moment we dispatched our men, He Jiaqing harvested their heads. Can't you see what this situation means?"
Han Yaomen pondered for a moment. "We have a mole in the society?"
Yue Hongliang nodded. "There is definitely a traitor, though we don't know how many."
Han Yaomen rose to his feet. "We cannot treat this lightly. We clean out the traitors first, and then we settle accounts with He Jiaqing."
Yue Hongliang lit his long-stemmed pipe and took a puff. "Chief, if you ask me, this matter requires careful deliberation. For the time being, we shouldn't seek out He Jiaqing again."
"Why not?" Han Yaomen slammed his fist on the table. "Can we just swallow this insult?"
"Chief, He Jiaqing has come with ruthless intent. How many of our men has he killed over a single silk store? Think about his past demeanor! In the Outer States, he played dead in a hospital; after returning to Puluo Province, he hid in shadows, afraid of the light. When have you ever seen him act this insane? There is something behind this—something we know nothing about. We can't even guess what He Jiaqing is truly after. In our current state, staying far away is the best choice."
"Hide...?" Han Yaomen ground his teeth. "If I hide, the Qingyun Society's face will be entirely lost."
"He Jiaqing is a He family scion, and the He family has always been a tyrant in Puluo Province. Yielding to him is no disgrace."
"Then did our brothers die for nothing?"
"Chief, I've spent decades in this society. I know full well how many brothers we've lost. Dead is dead; how many have ever truly been avenged? Find an excuse to gloss over it, and let it rest."
The words were unpleasant to the ear, but the logic was sound. Han Yaomen fabricated a pretext to brush the matter aside, then concentrated his efforts on purging the traitors within the society.
Yet no sooner had he identified a batch of suspects than they received word in advance and fled completely.
Enraged, Han Yaomen issued orders across all branches to hunt down their families, sparing no one.
Two days later, Han Yaomen received another crate of severed heads. The traitors' families had not been found; instead, two branches of the Qingyun Society had been wiped out.
Han Yaomen was dumbstruck. Even Yue Hongliang had not anticipated this.
They had thought that if they couldn't afford to provoke him, they could at least hide. Only now did they realize that hiding wasn't an option.
The following night, Han Yaomen received yet another crate. Two more branches had been annihilated.
He Jiaqing hadn't come for the silk store; he had come to destroy the Qingyun Society!
Panic seized Han Yaomen. He summoned several core members to devise a plan.
The consensus among the men was to fight He Jiaqing to the bitter end, but the elder Yue Hongliang offered an alternative proposal. "Ask the eldest sister of the He family to step in as mediator. Lay out our grievances openly on the table. If we can quell this storm, taking a bit of a loss is acceptable."
Han Yaomen was indignant. "Haven't we suffered enough losses already?"
Yue Hongliang remained silent. Superiority in strength and ruthlessness was laid bare for all to see; what did indignation matter?
After hesitating for two days—during which two more branches were lost—Han Yaomen traveled to the newland bearing lavish gifts to seek out He Yuxiu, begging her to mediate.
Looking across her territory, He Yuxiu appeared troubled. "Old Han, you can see it yourself: I have my own domain to manage now, and I can hardly attend to family matters. Jiaqing is a grown man; he won't listen to me on everything. I'll find a time to offer him a few words, but whether he heeds them or not is another story."
Han Yaomen sensed that He Yuxiu might not handle the matter reliably.
He was mistaken—it wasn't that she wouldn't handle it reliably, but that she didn't intend to handle it at all.
The silk store was He Jiaqing's private enterprise; He Yuxiu had no reason to interfere. Han Yaomen had provoked the fight first, and He Jiaqing was merely retaliating. Blood was thicker than water; she would naturally stand by He Jiaqing.
As for whether the retaliation was excessively brutal, no one could judge. If Han Yaomen ever turned the tables and sought revenge on He Jiaqing, he certainly wouldn't show mercy either.
Sheng Shanzhou, the accountant, felt He Jiaqing had done nothing wrong. "The Young Master's approach shows even greater boldness than the Master displayed back in his day. If we don't strike, so be it; but once we do, we sweep the floor clean."
He Yuxiu had never maintained much of a relationship with Han Yaomen to begin with, and she couldn't care less about what fate awaited the Qingyun Society.
She simply couldn't comprehend He Jiaqing's behavior. *What has gotten into Jiaqing? He usually operates from the shadows, terrified of leaving any trace. Why is he acting with such blatant fanfare this time?*
With casualties mounting across the Qingyun Society's branches, Han Yaomen knew He Yuxiu hadn't helped.
Left with no alternative, he turned to his final resort.
"I must summon our Grandmaster!"
Yue Hongliang expressed concern. "The Old Master hasn't involved himself in gang affairs for ages. Back when the Old Chief fell into trouble, no matter how he pleaded, the Old Master never intervened."
The Old Chief referred to the previous Dragonhead Master of the Qingyun Society, who had been Han Yaomen's master. The "trouble" Yue Hongliang spoke of had been internal strife within the society; having failed to obtain aid, the Old Chief had ultimately perished in that factional war.
"This time is different from before! Back then it was internal conflict, but this is an existential crisis. Grandmaster will not stand idly by!"
Han Yaomen ordered an incense hall to be prepared. Incense and candles were set out, and a hanging scroll depicting the Grandmaster was mounted.
An ordinary person would never guess it was a portrait of a grandmaster, because the painting depicted a camel.
Beneath the portrait was the Grandmaster's name—an unusual name: Bei Wushuang.
Han Yaomen prayed in the incense hall for three days and three nights without receiving the slightest response. Fearing the worst, Yue Hongliang urged him to seek another way out.
"Where is there another way out?" Han Yaomen was out of ideas.
"Go seek Seventh Master. We can count as Seventh Master's friends, after all."
Han Yaomen carefully weighed his relationship with Li Seven. Could they be considered friends?
Certainly.
All three major gangs of Puluo Province were counted among Li Seven's friends, but friendships came in degrees of closeness.
Shen Jinzhong of the Sanying Sect was closest to Li Seven; rumors even claimed he had been elevated to power by Li Seven himself. Han Yaomen could never compete with that tie.
Zhang Xiuling of the Baihua Sect was also very close to Li Seven; people said *Record of Jade Fragrance* had been composed under his personal guidance. Han Yaomen couldn't match that either.
All things considered, Han Yaomen's standing with Li Seven was probably inferior even to Li Haoyun of Furong Zhai and Bai Wuchuan of the White Crane Sect—they were merely nodding acquaintances.
Now that the Qingyun Society faced annihilation, would Li Seven be willing to lend a hand?
If only Qiu Zhiheng were in Green Water City! He shared a deep bond with Han Yaomen and was equally close with Li Seven; with him acting as an intermediary, Li Seven would surely help.
Yue Hongliang said, "Chief, Yaowanggou isn't that far. Why don't you make the trip in person?"
Han Yaomen realized that made sense. He ordered his men to procure a travel permit and headed to the train station that very night.
The next morning, Han Yaomen's severed head was displayed at a Qingyun Society hall.
He was dead.
As the leader of the second-largest gang in Puluo Province, Han Yaomen's death caused no small stir.
On the day of the funeral, He Jiaqing attended in person to offer condolences. Encountering Ma the Fifth in the memorial hall, the two exchanged a few words.
"How has Li Seven been lately? I haven't seen him in quite some time."
"He's been busy with official business in the Outer States, so he hasn't returned much."
"When he comes back, have him drop by my place for a sit-down. There are some matters I'd like to discuss with him properly."
"If it isn't confidential, you can talk to me. I'll pass the message to Old Seven."
"The business between him and me happens to be rather private."
After paying his respects, He Jiaqing didn't neglect official business. A gang could not remain leaderless for a single day, so he selected a veteran figure to succeed Han Yaomen as Dragonhead Master.
That veteran was none other than Yue Hongliang.
Within the gang, some felt Yue Hongliang had dedicated his life to the Qingyun Society, and that ascending to this seat was well-deserved.
Yet others recalled another detail: ever since Han Yaomen had begun taking Yue Hongliang's advice, his fortunes had never seen a single good day.
Leaving the Qingyun Society's hall, Ma the Fifth contacted Li Banfeng. "The news is verified: Han Yaomen is truly dead. He Jiaqing's hand was ruthless. Han Yaomen had already yielded—he practically groveled on his knees—yet He Jiaqing still took his life. Now the Qingyun Society has fallen completely into He Jiaqing's hands. We need to speak with Sister Xiu one of these days and find out who truly runs the He family now. If it's He Jiaqing calling the shots, we really have to stay on guard. Who knows if he might strike at us next?"
Li Banfeng glanced at the newspaper in his hands.
The front-page headline read: *Eldest Young Master Washes Qingyun Society in Blood; Young Master He's Might Shakes the Eight Quarters.*
The newspaper had been printed by Shen Rongqing's press, which meant He Jiaqing had deliberately sought to publicize the matter.
Why would he do that?
Li Banfeng truly couldn't make sense of it.
"Old Fifth, based on what I know of He Jiaqing, even if he wanted to kill someone, he would do it from the shadows. There's no way he would act so conspicuously."
"Precisely!" As He Jiaqing's childhood friend, Ma the Fifth couldn't fathom it either. "I'll send men to look into it, but I doubt they'll turn up anything."
Zhang Xiuling exited the Qingyun Society headquarters, where a rickshaw waited by the gates. Just as she was about to step aboard, Duan Shuqun approached, tipped his hat, and bowed respectfully. "Sect Master Zhang, I've come to deliver an invitation."
"What invitation?" Zhang Xiuling took the card and looked at it. A theater in Green Water City was celebrating its opening, and she was invited to attend the ceremony.
That theater had originally belonged to the Qingyun Society; now, all of their businesses belonged to He Jiaqing.
Zhang Xiuling naturally had no desire to attend. She hadn't shared much of a friendship with Han Yaomen, but He Jiaqing exterminating an entire gang over a minor dispute, and then publicly humiliating them on top of it, struck her as grossly out of line with proper etiquette.
"Boss Duan, thank you for your kind intentions, but the timing is unfortunate. I happen to have an urgent matter to attend to that day. Rest assured, though—even if I cannot attend in person, my regards will surely arrive."
Zhang Xiuling intended to send a gift and be done with it.
Duan Shuqun shook his head. "Sect Master Zhang, if you aren't there in person, your regards haven't truly arrived. Our master explicitly stated that he has pressing matters to discuss with you that day."
"Discuss what?"
"That is hard to say. If you agree, it will be a good thing." Leaving the invitation behind, Duan Shuqun turned and walked away.
A chill ran down Zhang Xiuling's spine.
*Could He Jiaqing be planning to target the Baihua Sect?*
She had guessed correctly. He Jiaqing's next target was indeed the Baihua Sect.
Returning to the Liu Family Pawnshop, He Jiaqing was discussing plans against the Baihua Sect with Big Head when a clerk arrived to announce that a friend surnamed Kong had requested an audience.
"Brother Kongfang is here." Raising an eyebrow, He Jiaqing signaled Big Head to withdraw.
Moments later, Mr. Kongfang entered the courtyard. After sharing two cups of tea with He Jiaqing, he inquired briefly about the Qingyun Society affair.
He Jiaqing answered honestly.
Mr. Kongfang asked again, "I hear you've set your sights on the Baihua Sect?"
He Jiaqing nodded. "Conducting experiments requires money. I need to find ventures that yield quick returns."
Mr. Kongfang remained silent. Just as He Jiaqing moved to refill his tea, Mr. Kongfang placed a lid over his cup. "Jiaqing, let our business end here."
He Jiaqing froze. "What do you mean by that?"
Rising to his feet, Mr. Kongfang said, "It means that from now on, we go our separate ways."
With those words, Mr. Kongfang vanished into thin air.
Teapot in hand, He Jiaqing silently stared at the teacup before him.
Outside Green Water City, on the slopes of Mount Yiming, within a birch grove halfway up the mountain, Xie Juncong, the master of the Ghost Hand Sect, knelt on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
Standing before him, Xiao Qianshou asked, "Is arranging a meeting with He Jiaqing truly so difficult?"
Xie Juncong replied, "He is drawing far too much attention right now. Anyone who approaches him will be watched by every sect and gang. That is the one thing our Ghost Hand Sect fears most. I must wait for the right opportunity."
Xiao Qianshou was somewhat bewildered as well. "What on earth is that brat trying to do? Even I can't see through him anymore. Fine, tell our people to stay far away from him."
That night, He Jiaqing drank wine with Big Head. When the bottle was half-empty, Big Head asked, "Jiaqing, I remember your ambition was to change Puluo Province—perhaps even beyond Puluo Province. You wanted capable people to live with dignity. Have your thoughts changed?"
"They haven't." He Jiaqing shook his head.
"Then your current actions..."
"You don't understand, do you?" He Jiaqing lit a cigarette and gave a self-deprecating laugh. "A couple of days ago, I went to a bookshop and saw a book. That book taught me quite a few things."
"What book?" Big Head was genuinely curious.
"I didn't catch the title, but I remember the words inside it. Any random character plucked from its pages could beat me until I couldn't fight back. I thought the owner of that bookshop was invincible; I thought I was going to die inside that book. Who could have guessed that a friend would show up and rescue me? He didn't expend much effort at all. He said the bookshop's owner had given him face."
"Such immense face?" Big Head didn't quite understand, but echoed the sentiment.
"Indeed, their face is so immense! But how much face does He Jiaqing have? How much capability do I possess? Why should people do business with me? What virtue, what ability do I have? How much do I truly weigh?" He Jiaqing stubbed out his cigarette, looking at Big Head with rising emotion. "Brother, it's been a long time since I met someone I could speak my heart to. Back in university, there was one, but now that person refuses to speak to me. I've been suffocating with all of this bottled up inside.
"I always thought cultivation peaked at the third tier above the clouds, and that with a bit more effort, one could step Beyond the Clouds. Beyond the Clouds, there are no distinct tiers; combat prowess should be roughly equal. As long as I clawed my way Beyond the Clouds, I would be among the strongest.
"In the Outer States, I exhausted every means to gather popularity—delivering takeout, livestreaming, crawling through sewers—all just to push Beyond the Clouds. I managed to push through, but what was the result?
"I am leagues behind them! I couldn't even touch that bookshop's owner; I couldn't even defeat a few of his books! And someone of equal strength to him claimed he wanted to do business with me. It was all a lie! They hired me to be a scapegoat!
"I provide the money, I provide the labor, and I might even have to forfeit my life. I shoulder all the risks of this business, but once it succeeds, I won't see a shred of benefit, because I don't possess the qualifications to reach for it. If that's how it is, why should I bother doing this business at all?"
Big Head seemed to grasp his meaning. "You wiped out the Qingyun Society to make them stay away from you?"
"Precisely!" He Jiaqing poured a cup of wine for Big Head. "What they engage in is business that cannot see the light of day. So I chose to shine the brightest light directly on myself! I want all of Puluo Province watching me. As long as light surrounds me, they are forced to keep their distance.
"Thief Cultivators possess a technique above the clouds called Deceiving the World to Steal Renown. Brother, remember this well: what we steal doesn't necessarily have to be a good reputation."
Chapter 602