With the Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist successfully integrated into his panel, Xiangzi’s movements grew lighter, his fistwork steady yet newly agile.

Lin Junqing stepped into the courtyard, a hint of daze in his eyes.

An hour?

In just an hour, this kid’s fist forms were already taking shape?

If that old man who died too soon saw this, he’d probably leap from his grave, eager to take this kid as his final disciple.

Just like back then, when he caught a young Lin Junqing on the field ridges, grinning cheekily and refusing to let go.

Thinking of his first mentor, a gentle smile spread across Lin Junqing’s face.

Without that odd old man, Lin Junqing would likely still be toiling outside Forty-Nine City with a hoe.

He was nine, wasn’t he? He didn’t know where he got the nerve, meeting that sleazy-looking old man and not running. Instead, he inexplicably agreed to share a bowl of rice.

Just coarse sorghum and corn, left overnight and slightly sour. Yet the old man ate heartily, shouting about teaching him a peerless divine skill.

Lin Junqing still remembered the old man’s smug look, squatting on the ridge, boasting that with this fist and spear technique, he’d topple all nine martial halls in Forty-Nine City and plant his flag.

Back then, young Lin Junqing didn’t grasp the danger behind “planting a flag,” his face only showing disdain.

The old man didn’t argue, just crouched like a farmer, scarfing down the rice, chuckling—Kid, just wait. This old man’s gonna carve out a big name in Forty-Nine City!

Back then, the dragon banners of the Great Shun dynasty still flew over the city.

The great smokestacks outside Forty-Nine City hadn’t yet risen, nor had the steam airships that now blotted out the sky.

Lin Junqing remembered clearly—the sun was especially bright that day.

Blue skies and white clouds framed the old man’s wrinkled face, grinning like a withered chrysanthemum.

By the time Lin Junqing understood the weight and blood behind those words, it was another story.

He understood, but it was too late.

Memories surged like a tide.

The middle-aged martial artist’s gaze unwittingly fell to his lame right leg.

—

Xiangzi stowed his fists and gave a deep bow to the middle-aged martial artist before him.

He knew this fist technique was extraordinary.

Compared to the Thunder-Rushing Fist and Wind-Chasing Kick he’d learned before, it was like a firefly against the full moon.

The technique’s force method was profoundly intricate. Unlike the wide, sweeping external styles, its axis-of-the-body force generation perfectly matched Xiangzi’s robust blood energy.

Moreover, it seemed derived from spear techniques.

If mastered, it would greatly benefit his Five Tigers Gate-Breaking Spear.

More crucially, unlike the fierce external styles, this seemingly plain internal style compensated for Xiangzi’s current flaw: plenty of ferocity, lacking in technique.

Especially the method of “guiding qi with intent,” which gave Xiangzi, stuck at the Blood Energy Barrier, a glimpse of the true essence of a ninth-rank martial artist’s force.

For his current state, this technique was like charcoal in the snow.

In this martial-obsessed world, precious herbs cost a fortune, but techniques were just as rare.

Be it internal or external methods, they were closely guarded secrets of the martial halls.

As the saying goes, “Teach the disciple, starve the master.”

Martial halls thrived on “never lightly passing down the law.” Even for their own sons, they’d hold back a few key moves.

Yet Lin Junqing had taught the superior Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist without a word.

Proud as he was, Lin Junqing wouldn’t bother explaining why.

Xiangzi knew it was because he’d risked his life to save Liu Tang.

Even so, this was a debt Xiangzi could never repay.

With this thought, his eyes grew more solemn.

But Lin Junqing only glanced at the crescent moon above and said softly, “Follow me inside.”

Xiangzi hesitated, then followed him into the house.

—

In the quiet night, candlelight flickered with the breeze.

In the dim, wavering light, the three sat down.

Lin Junqing spoke first. “You two came to me because you trust me. So tell me, what’s your plan?”

At this, a trace of confusion crossed Liu Tang’s pale face.

He was a bold, carefree soul, but this sudden calamity left him burning inside, his only thought revenge.

Yet when asked for a plan, he was at a loss.

Xiangzi, sitting nearby, looked at Liu Tang and said softly, “If I’m not wrong, Fourth Master Liu must be in league with the Li family. Our brothers’ lives were just chips to topple Ma Liu.”

“Brother Tang, you rushed here heedlessly, probably out of guilt, unable to watch our old brothers die.”

Liu Tang’s expression darkened, his bruised lips trembling, but no words came.

After a long pause, he slumped back onto the bed. “I’m half a cripple now. Even if I wanted to do something, I can’t. Xiangzi, I’ll follow your lead.”

At this, even Lin Junqing turned his piercing gaze to Xiangzi.

Xiangzi stayed silent, countless thoughts swirling in his mind.

The situation seemed straightforward.

The Li family and Fourth Master Liu had set a trap, selling them out to crush Ma Liu Rickshaw Yard.

For Fourth Master Liu, thirty-odd lives were a painful but worthwhile trade for Ma Liu’s entire operation.

But Xiangzi harbored a deeper doubt: smuggled ore!

The newspapers stated clearly that Liu Hu and Ma Liu had been smuggling five-colored gold ore to the Three Strongholds and Nine Lands for years.

That was nonsense.

Having been a convoy leader for months, Xiangzi knew Liu Hu’s limits. At best, he and Jin Fugui could smuggle a few baskets of ore. Since when could they connect with the bandits of the Three Strongholds and Nine Lands?

Yet the papers claimed hundreds of carts a year!

Clearly, Liu Hu and Ma Liu were scapegoats.

But for whom?

Could it be Fourth Master Liu? Had the old fox been playacting all along to distance himself from the smuggling?

Or was the Li family also entangled in this massive smuggling case, using this bloodshed to cover their tracks?

It was all a tangled mess.

Suddenly, Xiangzi’s heart jolted—a way to break through.

The ledgers. The smuggling ledgers!

If Fourth Master Liu was truly involved, his cunning would ensure he kept evidence as leverage against the Li family.

Xiangzi, a mere Blood Energy Barrier martial artist, dreaming of revenge was folly. But if he could get those ledgers, there’d be a chance!

At this thought, Xiangzi felt a daze.

It was those very ledgers that had dragged him into this web of intrigue.

As if by some fated force, he was once again pulled into the line of the five-colored ore.