Captain Hu was at the eighth layer of Qi Refinement. He used to be a tomb raider. Not exactly a murderer or arsonist, but still the kind of man people loved to hold grudges against. That’s why he ended up hiding in Wulong Mountain. Honestly, it was probably the only place that would take him in.

He’d lived there for years, keeping a low profile, quietly minding his own business. He almost never accepted invitations or challenges, so Liu Xiaolou barely saw him; when they did cross paths, they’d just nod in passing. A man like Captain Hu could only live freely on Wulong Mountain. There, no one looked down on him. He could laugh, chat, and even spar with others without feeling out of place.

But if he ever left the mountain to fend for himself, he’d be a rat in the streets, despised by all. Life would turn bitter, his cultivation stagnant. Because of that, his attachment to Wulong Mountain ran deep. So deep he didn’t even realize it himself.

Not until the day Lu Yuanlang went on his killing spree at Ghostdream Cliff did he finally understand just how much Wulong Mountain meant to him.

So when Liu Xiaolou’s invitation arrived, he didn’t hesitate. He accepted it right away.

His specialty was tomb raiding and treasure hunting. He could spot traps and hidden riches at a glance. A sharp instinct honed over years of experience. People called it “the nose,” and sometimes it really was as sharp as a hound’s.

So while the killing was happening upstairs on the second and third floors of the tavern, Captain Hu was down on the first floor, pacing around with a few of his men. There was only a handful of loose silver on the counter. Way too little for a place like this. Instead of worrying, Captain Hu grinned. He rubbed his hands together and started barking orders.

“Bu San, Bu Ai, you two tap the floor tiles. Not too hard. One hit and pull back. If anything feels off, tell me right away.”

“Brother Long, check the kitchen. See if there’s a tunnel under the stove.”

“Friend Fan, grab a bucket of water and splash down the walls. Make sure you get every corner.”

“Mu the physician, forget the rest. Why don’t you go upstairs and check if anyone’s hurt?”

“You two, over here. This table looks suspicious. Don’t smash it, just lift it together.”

They moved quickly, and before long, they uncovered the Hongji Tavern’s hidden vault. It was small. Barely a foot wide. However, it sunk deep into the ground. No one could fit inside, and for a moment, they weren’t sure what to do. Digging it out would take too much time.

But Captain Hu always had his ways. He pulled out an old family heirloom. A plain-looking, three-edged metal rod. Channeling his true qi into it, the short rod began to extend section by section, sliding deeper into the earth. From its tip uncoiled a length of cord, covered in scale-like plates made from some strange material. Flexible when needed, yet hard as steel when not.

As the tip glowed with faint light, it slipped into the vault’s narrow passage below. Captain Hu closed his eyes and focused, sensing every ripple of feedback. In his mind’s eye, the scene below slowly came into view: three fathoms down lay a narrow horizontal tunnel. About seven feet in, there was a small chest.

How the Hongji Tavern managed to stash or retrieve it was their business. Hu didn’t care. He had his own way, and it lay right there, in the dragon-scale cord at the tip of his rod.

As Captain Hu guided his qi, the dragon-scale cord stiffened and shot sideways into the narrow hole. When it touched the chest, it softened again, snaking its way into the keyhole before hardening once more. Locking itself firmly in place.

From there, it was simple. With a quick tug, the cord pulled the chest out of the tunnel, and when Captain Hu lifted the rod, the box rose cleanly from the ground.

Job done, and with nothing else out of order, Hu asked, “Where’s Sect Leader Liu?”

“Over in the storeroom,” replied Fang Bu’ai.

Liu Xiaolou returned. He’d swept through the storeroom, packing all ten jars of Green Bamboo Leaf wine into his own Qiankun Bag.

“What about the account books?” Liu Xiaolou asked.

Fang Bu’ai patted his bulging bundle with a grin. “Five in total. All right here!”

At the same time, Dragon Mountain Wanderer, Fairy Huang Ye, Old Taoist Hu Du, and the four brothers from Guzhang Mountain rushed down from the upper floor, signaling that everything was ready.

Everyone jumped into their roles. In less than the time it takes to finish a cup of tea, Liu Xiaolou waved his hand and shouted, “Let’s go!”

Dragon Mountain Wanderer tossed down a fire starter, and flames immediately leapt up inside the hall. The group poured out of the building, sprinting eastward. In moments, they had escaped the Tianmen market district.

After running for about two li, they saw a red glow behind them. the Hongji Tavern was finally ablaze, flames roaring, smoke billowing into the sky. From afar, they could faintly hear the sound of chaos rising from the city.

Liu Xiaolou led the charge south, and after crossing Yangliu Bay, they didn’t dare stop. They veered east, running hard for another thirty li before finally finding a small mountain hollow sheltered from the wind, where they paused to catch their breath.

The group gathered around Liu Xiaolou. They looked at one another. Tired, dusty, and wild-eyed. Then suddenly burst into laughter.

Amid the laughter, Mu the physician looked around. “Anyone hurt?” he asked.

Qi Laoqi burst out laughing. “Hurt? Hell no! Nothing but a long run. Must’ve covered dozens of li! Hey, Old Cripple, your bum leg holding up?”

Old Cripple let out a sigh. “Can you believe it? Breaking out of Tianmen Market was that easy. I never would’ve dared dream it before. Should we check out another market while we’re at it?”

Fan Zheng said, “Didn’t Xiaolou say all the top cultivators from the sects are off at Danxia Gotto Heaven?”

Dragon Mountain Wanderer shot them a glance. “Tianmen Market’s been peaceful for over a hundred years. Once word of this gets out, what other market will be so easy to raid?”

Liu Xiaolou asked, “Old Hu, count up what we’ve got. How much is there?”

Captain Hu set the small chest down in the middle. Everyone crowded around as he worked the lock. He slipped a dragon-scale pick into the keyhole, gave it a gentle twist, and with a soft click, the lid popped up slightly. A quick pry with his three-edged rod, and the box was open.

There were no traps inside. Resting on a layer of red silk were over a dozen gold ingots. Worth about twenty-five hundred taels of silver. There were also three jade pendants that shimmered faintly with spiritual energy.

Beneath the jade pieces was a small pouch. When Captain Hu poured it out, everyone’s eyes lit up in delight.

Fifty-six spirit stones!

And that wasn’t all. Captain Hu had the others pile up what they’d found searching bodies and rifling through the tavern cupboards. Another eight spirit stones, five magical tools, and a little over two hundred taels of silver.

They’d raided Hongji Tavern for revenge... but with spoils this rich, no one was complaining.

Dragon Mountain Wanderer stroked his beard. “Xiaolou, time to split the loot.”

Liu Xiaolou put some thought to it, then began. “Those who fought -- Dragon Wanderer, Fairy Huang, Old Hu Du, and the Guzhang brothers, you each gets four spirit stones and 200 taels of silver. The lookout team. Brother Cang, Senior Wan, Old Cripple, and Brother Qi... you didn’t join the fight this time, so each of you gets two spirit stones and 100 taels less silver. As for you, Captain Hu, and your men who searched the place; each of you gets two spirit stones and 50 taels of silver. How’s that sound to everyone? Does that sound fair to everyone?”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Liu Xiaolou then brought out five magical tools: three flying swords, a five-pronged metal fork, and an ironwood shield. All lower-grade artifacts.

“Five pieces,” he announced. “We’ll auction them right now. Starting bid, two spirit stones each. Whoever offers the most gets the item, and the spirit stones go into the shared pot for everyone else.”