In the inky night, Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s east wing—

The five-story building, coated in white paint, gleamed faintly under the moonlight.

Suddenly, a figure landed lightly on the red-tiled roof, silent as a whisper.

The three pillars of blood energy gave Xiangzi not just strength but agility.

After learning the Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist from Lin Junqing, his mastery of blood energy deepened, making him as nimble as a cat.

Now, wedged between the second and third floors in a slightly comical pose, Xiangzi hid in the wall’s shadows.

Even more comical—he was nibbling on a piece of braised beef.

The beef had been fished from the well in the second-tier courtyard.

Forty-Nine City’s spring was chilly, and the well water kept the beef fresh for days.

Xiangzi and Uncle Jie had bought it for Wen San on their way back from the eastern city.

Wen San, ever frugal, hadn’t eaten it all, stashing most in the well.

The next day, the entire second-tier courtyard perished in the Li family’s mining district, leaving the beef untouched.

Now it was Xiangzi’s.

The beef’s fibers were tough, its taste tinged with a bitter spoilage, but Xiangzi ate slowly, deliberately.

The coarse meat shredded, settling in his stomach, lending him strength.

With the keen vision from the tiger demon marrow, he could clearly see the chaotic figures in the first-tier courtyard of the west wing.

In contrast, the once-lively second-tier pullers’ courtyard was eerily silent.

The locust tree swayed in the night breeze, its blossoms filling the air with fragrance.

Xiangzi waited patiently until the last candle in the front courtyard went out and saw Fourth Master Liu leave with several men. Only then did he dart out like a civet.

—

Fourth Master Liu was cautious, leaving two guards in the front courtyard.

Perhaps the commotion or Liu Tang’s absence left the remaining east wing guards restless.

Deep in the night, neither guard felt like dozing.

Fat Yong leaned on a staff as tall as himself at the courtyard gate, eyelids heavy but mind awake.

He stared into the black sky, thinking: This is the fourth day since Brother Tang went to the mining district.

No, he glanced at the crescent moon—the fifth day.

The east wing whispered that Brother Tang had fallen in the Li family’s mining district.

Fat Yong didn’t believe it. Brother Tang, so fierce—gone just like that?

His brother, deputy chief of Qingfeng Street and a confidant of the deputy commissioner, knew more than most.

His brother hadn’t said much, but Fat Yong caught hints of danger.

For days, his brother urged him to leave Harmony and become a martial hall apprentice—no hope of ranking, but a gilded title could secure a police bureau post.

This was Fat Yong’s last day at Harmony.

He knew the apprentice slot was hard-won—his brother had begged the deputy commissioner, even bribing the man’s new concubine with jewelry.

As he mused, a familiar figure flashed before his eyes.

Before he could react, his neck went numb, vision blurring, and he slumped forward.

His staff fell, but a large hand caught it.

A shadow emerged from the darkness, steadying Fat Yong’s body.

—

Seeing the massive lump on Fat Yong’s neck, Xiangzi gave a wry smile.

He’d underestimated his three pillars of blood energy.

Using just a third of his strength had nearly killed the kid.

Fat Yong was lucky to escape the Li family’s mining district; he shouldn’t die by Xiangzi’s hand.

Though loud and arrogant, the kid wasn’t bad.

Back in the east wing, he’d trailed Xiangzi, pestering him for fist and kick techniques.

Xiangzi propped Fat Yong against the gate.

With that done, he gently pushed open the door.

The room was unlit, save for faint moonlight.

Xiangzi drew the curtains, blocking out the last light.

In his eyes, the pitch-black room became crystal clear.

—

The room was small and quickly searched, but Xiangzi found nothing.

Under the kang mat where Girl Hu often sat, he found a leather notebook in a brick crevice.

It was, of course, the fake ledger he’d seen before.

If they’d crafted a fake, there had to be a real one.

Where was it?

Or… was it not here at all?

But with Fourth Master Liu’s cautious nature, he’d only feel safe keeping it close!

It must be on him!

Xiangzi’s expression sharpened. After a moment’s hesitation, he resolved to head to Ma Liu’s yard to investigate.

With the cover of night and his keen eyes, he could stay cautious and avoid danger.

In a flash, he reached the front courtyard.

With a leap, his figure glided over red bricks and green tiles, silent as a phantom.

—

In the pitch-black night, several figures dashed forward.

Fourth Master Liu led, his steps unhurried yet swift.

Girl Hu kept pace beside him, moving with ease—so the big-footed spinster was a martial artist too.

Liu Quan trailed, panting, watching the spry figure ahead with silent awe. He’d known his foster father was ninth-rank—how else could he hold Harmony’s reins?

But he hadn’t expected a seventy-year-old to retain such robust blood energy.

His brows furrowed, his gaze drifting to the dark night.

In the dead of night, the southern city was silent, not even a shadow at the checkpoints.

The stench of rotting gutters wafted with the breeze.

As Ma Liu’s yard drew near, Fourth Master Liu suddenly halted.

Liu Quan wiped sweat from his brow, whispering, “Fourth Master, why’d we stop?”

Liu didn’t answer, his burning gaze sweeping the darkness, settling on the gold-lacquered red sign at the street’s end.

Under the kerosene lamp’s dim glow, “Ma Liu Rickshaw Yard” still hung, yet to be removed.

Suddenly, Fourth Master Liu spoke softly, “Little Quan, if there’s trouble at Ma Liu’s yard, why’s it so quiet?”

Liu Quan’s expression hardened. He drew his blade, its edge flashing toward Fourth Master Liu.