Liu Tang stirred awake.

Lin Junqing’s specially crafted tonic worked wonders, bringing a touch of color to his face, though his spirit remained listless.

Lin Junqing’s brow stayed furrowed.

His junior brother’s spear wounds were grave. Only his lifelong training of muscle, bone, and hide had barely preserved his life.

But the injuries were severe. These medicines could only sustain him; any delay might ruin Liu Tang’s martial path.

Just days ago at Deyun Tower, Liu Tang, newly ascended to ninth-rank minor completion, had brimmed with youthful vigor at the wine table.

Now, in mere days, he lay in such a broken state.

A hollow ache crept across Lin Junqing’s brow.

Yet he managed a gentle smile. “Junior Brother, stay put for a few days. Heal up before planning your next move.”

He didn’t ask why they were here or mention their gruesome wounds.

Secluded in his courtyard, he was unaware of the mining zone’s secrets.

But Lin Junqing knew Liu Tang had come here only because he was at his wit’s end.

—

Hearing this, Liu Tang struggled to sit, his face tinged with guilt as he clasped his fists. “Sorry to trouble you, Senior Brother.”

Lin Junqing, pouring tea, chuckled and set the pot down. “Back when you pestered me to sneak out of the hall, you weren’t so formal.”

Liu Tang tried to smile, but the movement tugged his wounds, making him wince.

Lin Junqing sighed, fetching salve and tending to Liu Tang’s injuries himself.

He saw coin-sized wounds, their edges charred black—marks of gunpowder burns.

His gaze darkened. “Firearm wounds?”

Even this former senior brother of Baolin Martial Hall grew solemn.

In the vast city, few dared wield firearms.

Liu Tang nodded, his face dimming as he recalled the suffering at the Li family mining zone and the brothers lost.

With his life entrusted to Lin Junqing, he held nothing back.

In no time, he recounted the full story.

Lin Junqing listened, his face unreadable, but his heart roiled like a storm.

The mining route?

Harmony Rickshaw Yard, Ma Liu Rickshaw Yard?

And the Li family, always reclusive, guarding their mining zone, actually struck?

A shadow settled over his heart.

Secluded, he wasn’t cut off from the world.

Unlike the less seasoned Liu Tang and Xiangzi, Lin Junqing understood the city’s tangled web of powers.

A brawl between two South City rickshaw yards, even with dead pullers, was minor.

But this happened at the mining zone!

And the Li family intervened.

That changed everything.

The Li family wasn’t a lofty clan, not a major player.

But in wealth, guarding their five-colored gold mine for centuries, they ranked among the city’s top.

Since the Great Shun Dynasty’s banner first wavered, as Marshal Zhang once jested at a banquet, the Li family head was a rat hoarding silver, burrowing into money.

Crude words, but they captured the Li family’s ways—never flashy, just guarding their turf.

Yet now…

The secretive Li family had acted.

What scheme lay behind this anomaly? Lin Junqing wasn’t curious.

But he knew what the Li family would do if they learned Liu Tang and Xiangzi lived.

No need to ask.

—

Amid his shifting thoughts, a rustling sound broke through.

He looked up.

The big rickshaw puller was shouldering his pack again.

Exhaustion marked Xiangzi’s face, but his spine stood straight as a drawn spear, a flush of color returning.

Lin Junqing blinked—he’s already absorbed the Blood-Regenerating Pill’s power?

This puller had shocked him too much today.

Seeing Xiangzi’s expression, Lin Junqing’s lips curled playfully. “Brother Xiangzi… leaving?”

Xiangzi forced a smile, clasping his fists. “Since Master Tang’s here and I’ve troubled Master Lin so long, it’s time I go.”

Lin Junqing stood, approaching slowly. “Worried this cripple can’t protect you?”

Xiangzi froze, unprepared for such bluntness.

Lin Junqing continued calmly, “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

“But wait till tonight. Your stunt this afternoon likely stirred the whole hall.”

With such candor, Xiangzi didn’t hide his thoughts. Glancing at Liu Tang on the bed, he said softly, “If I stay, I’ll only bring Master Lin more trouble.”

Lin Junqing’s expression softened. “If that’s your concern, don’t worry.”

He placed a hand on Xiangzi’s shoulder.

A gentle yet surging force flowed through, making Xiangzi sit involuntarily.

“You saved my junior brother. I owe you.”

“This is Baolin Martial Hall. As long as I’m here, no one will touch you.”

His brow arched, sharp as a drawn blade.

His words were light but resolute.

The weight of a Baolin direct disciple would make the Li family think twice.

But Xiangzi only clasped his fists. “With Master Lin caring for Master Tang, I’m at ease.”

As he turned, Lin Junqing scoffed. “You want revenge?”

Xiangzi halted.

The waning moon’s frost-like glow outlined his pine-like frame.

He said nothing, lowering his head, his dark face hidden in the night.

But his rigid spine radiated a chilling resolve.

—

In the night breeze, Lin Junqing’s graying temples fluttered, his right hand brushing his leg unconsciously.

The former genius warrior gazed at the lone moon, shaking his head, casting off buried sorrows.

“Xiangzi, revenge requires strength.”

“With your robust blood and qi but no rank, you think you can challenge the Li family?”

“You’ll only throw your life away.”

“You’re a cautious, clever man. You know this.”

His words were unsparing, cutting deep.

Xiangzi stayed silent, glancing at the bundle in the corner.

A dark spear tip protruded, glinting pale in the moonlight.

Uncle Jie’s spear.