After escorting Master Liu to the door, Xiangzi waved goodbye with a cheerful smile.

Turning around, he found the gazes of the surrounding tea patrons snapping toward him in unison.

The crowd hurriedly lowered their heads, busying themselves with the food in their bowls!

“Hey, Brother Xiangzi, over here… over here!”

In the corner, Zhang Dachui excitedly waved at Xiangzi, his face piled high with grins.

To avoid any unnecessary complications, Xiangzi could only walk over and sit down.

Zhang Dachui’s copper-bell-like eyes bulged as he stared at him. “Brother Xiangzi, it’s only been a little over a month—when did you become a Ninth Grade? Truly impressive!”

Xiangzi smiled and cupped his fists. “Back at the city gate, many thanks for looking after me.”

“No trouble… no trouble at all, just a small favor,” Zhang Dachui said, brimming with pride.

But when the young man’s peach-blossom eyes swept over, the bearded brute’s expression froze, and he quickly shut his mouth.

“Young brother, are you heading out for a posting?” the peach-blossom-eyed youth suddenly asked in a leisurely tone.

Xiangzi was taken aback—this lord seemed quite familiar with the ways of martial halls?

But calling him “young brother” was a bit too presumptuous, wasn’t it?

Judging by his appearance, this man wasn’t much older than himself!

“I’m going to Feng Family Village… for about half a year,” Xiangzi replied without hiding anything, smiling.

Feng Family Village was near the Three Strongholds and Nine Lands, right in this lord’s territory—there was no point in concealing it, so he might as well be open.

“Hmm, not a bad place. Deep in Little Blue Garment Ridge, there’s no one around, and plenty of demonic beasts. Perfect for a Ninth Grade martial artist to get some practice.”

Xiangzi’s mouth twitched—what a bold claim. Even Eighth Grade beasts were common deep in Little Blue Garment Ridge, and he called it just practice?

He couldn’t tell what realm this lord’s cultivation was at.

Moreover, this peach-blossom-eyed youth looked sickly, with no trace of blood energy fluctuations?

Truly peculiar.

“Since you’re going to Feng Family Village, you must be registered under the Clear Gang. Lately, that old man Feng hasn’t been getting along with the Clear Gang. Young brother, you’d best be careful.”

Xiangzi nodded impassively, but his mind was filled with doubts—what was this lord playing at?

The saying went, don’t speak deeply with shallow acquaintances, yet he barely knew this man.

Seeing Xiangzi’s expression, the peach-blossom-eyed youth understood clearly but only smiled faintly.

“This counts as owing you a favor. When you have time… young brother, feel free to visit the stronghold. I’ll have Zhang Dachui host.”

Zhang Dachui, who was noisily munching on fried dough rings, was stunned—You’re inviting this kid to the stronghold, so why am I hosting?

Xiangzi felt his scalp tingle—visit the Three Strongholds and Nine Lands? Wasn’t that courting death?

The peach-blossom-eyed youth didn’t say more, only smiling as he cupped his hands.

Xiangzi, feeling like he’d been granted amnesty, hurried back to his table, pulled out two silver dollars, slung the rattan box over his shoulder, and headed out.

Just as he reached the door, a leisurely voice drifted from behind: “Young brother, don’t forget when the time comes. You must grace us with your presence.”

Xiangzi paused, turned back, and forced a strained smile.

—

“Master… Second Brother, why show such favor to this kid?”

Zhang Dachui stuffed another fried dough ring into his mouth and mumbled.

The peach-blossom-eyed youth stared at the tall figure’s retreating back, a playful smile curling his lips. “Do you know what big event recently happened at Baolin Martial Hall?”

Zhang Dachui blinked, shaking his head like a rattle drum.

The youth’s face stiffened, and he said irritably, “Forget it then. Hurry and finish that bowl of bean juice. We’ll pack up and head back tomorrow.”

“We’re dropping the job?” Zhang Dachui muttered—they’d spent a lot of effort sneaking into the city during the Buddha’s Light Festival. In just a few more days, that old lady was supposed to invite an opera troupe to the Grand Marshal’s Mansion.

Such a rare opportunity—why was this lord suddenly leaving?

The peach-blossom-eyed youth stretched lazily and said slowly, “This Grand Marshal Zhang… he’s set a trap for us. Wouldn’t going be walking into it ourselves?”

Zhang Dachui was even more confused—how did a good plan turn into a trap?

Too lazy to deal with this oaf, the youth placed a few silver dollars on the table and stood up lightly.

For some reason, the image of that tall figure flashed in his mind.

His beautiful peach-blossom eyes narrowed—come to think of it, does this kid have some fate with me?

Li Xiang?

The one causing a stir at Baolin Martial Hall lately went by that name.

Even he hadn’t expected that in such a short time, the downtrodden little rickshaw puller he’d met once would transform into a Ninth Grade martial genius?

And he was going to Feng Family Village?

At this thought, a faint smile tugged at the youth’s lips.

Comprehending Bright Force upon entering Ninth Grade—that was “astonishing talent” in any martial hall.

Baolin Martial Hall was truly willing to throw such a promising seedling into that dangerous place. Weren’t they afraid he’d break?—That old Feng wasn’t exactly kind.

Or… was there something more to it?

In an instant, the Clear Gang, Feng Family Village, the Li Family mines—several powers spun in his mind.

Now even a behemoth like Baolin Martial Hall was getting involved?

The area around the Three Strongholds and Nine Lands was truly a chaotic mess!

—

In the swaying little train, Xiangzi squinted slightly.

The train wasn’t fast and carried a faint, pungent smell of mineral powder—the fuel used for steam engines.

But the concentration was low, not enough to harm blood energy.

He’d bought a first-class seat, a spacious half-compartment with only one spot—quite peaceful.

It had cost three silver dollars, though, which made him wince.

Outside the window were bare trees, occasionally dotted with refugees. Summer had arrived; these refugees could scrape by on grass roots, lake fish, and birds until autumn.

Winter? That depended on fate.

In the first-class carriage, some children tossed food out the window, luring refugees to risk climbing aboard—only to be scared off by guards with bayoneted rifles.

The Grand Marshal’s soldiers were measured; they didn’t actually stab anyone—likely to avoid trouble.

Xiangzi hugged his rattan box, drowsiness creeping in amid the swaying, and slowly closed his eyes.

—

The train clanged to a halt with a sharp screech.

Amid the clamor, Xiangzi opened his eyes.

A figure in yellow stepped into the carriage.

Behind her followed several burly men with bulging temples—clearly external-style experts.

Unlike the stylish, minimalist girls of Forty-Nine City, this yellow-clad woman wore the old-fashioned attire of the Great Shun Dynasty, her hair pinned meticulously.

Strangely, the overly elaborate and cumbersome style, the blindingly bright yellow, didn’t clash on her. Instead, it added an indescribable nobility.

It even felt that only such outdated formality could match her beauty and figure.

Her exquisite, curvaceous form and stunning, icy face made even Xiangzi glance a few extra times.

Behind her were two towering maids—built like Girl Hu, iron towers of muscle.

Wealthy families chose maids for grace and poise—where did they find maids stronger than burly men?

Especially since the two maids looked tense, staring fixedly at the yellow-clad woman—not like servants, but guards.

Truly odd.

In any world, beauty and wealth stirred men’s hearts.

Seeing this “nation-toppling” yellow-clad woman, the first-class carriage grew restless.

A stout, hulking man drooled openly.

The woman’s face was indifferent; her cold gaze swept over and landed on him. “Get lost,” she said icily.

Suddenly, a guard lunged forward.

His face fierce, he flashed forward, lightly scooping with one hand.

Thud—a heavy grunt.

The fat man was yanked from his seat and slammed to the floor.

Instantly, the once-noisy first-class carriage fell silent as a grave.

—

“Blind dog, daring to stare at the Feng Family’s eldest miss?”

The guard snorted coldly and respectfully returned behind the yellow-clad woman.

The stout man, dazed from the fall, trembled at the words “Feng Family” and didn’t dare speak, limping back to his seat.

Everyone in the carriage kept their eyes down, minds on their own business.

Even the soldiers in the carriage stood with rifles, peering out the windows, showing no intent to intervene.

Xiangzi took it all in, his face calm, but he understood—Feng Family? It must be the one from Feng Family Village.

As the rumors said, Feng Family Village was the local tyrant here.

A hoarse whistle sounded from the front.

The little train slowly started moving.

Perhaps the earlier incident had soured the Feng miss’s mood; her already cold face grew frostier.

“Too noisy here.”

“A-Fu, clear them out.”

An old man stepped forward from behind her, smiling and nodding.

With a kind smile, he cupped his fists and announced loudly, “Everyone, meeting is fate. Today, our Feng Family encountering you all is a great honor. Please bear with us—my young miss loves quiet. Could everyone kindly vacate this first-class carriage?”

“This is sudden and our Feng Family’s disturbance, but for those willing to leave, we’ll compensate five times the fare.”

“Please, give the Feng Family some face.”

His tone was humble—but there was no room for negotiation.

Especially the repeated “Feng Family,” utterly domineering.

But with five times the fare, many in the first-class carriage were tempted.

The train had been swaying for ages, nearly at Nanyuan. Standing in the back for a quarter-hour would net fifteen silver dollars.

Where else could you find such a deal?

A few merchants, though unwilling, didn’t want trouble with the Feng Family and stood with grim faces.

The Feng guards were efficient, smiling as they handed over fifteen silver dollars to those who rose.

Before long…

Xiangzi, still seated and gazing out the window with interest, stood out.

Seeing this tall man in gold-rimmed glasses, the old man named Feng Fu’s expression turned stern.

Though he sensed no blood energy, the chiseled muscles showed through the silk shirt.

A practitioner.

Feng Fu approached Xiangzi, forced a smile, and cupped his fists. “Young brother, could you do the Feng Family a favor?”

“If you’re unsatisfied, we’ll compensate eight times the fare.”

At this, not just the guards—the Feng miss’s eyes widened.

She knew A-Fu’s ways—this seemingly humble old man was ruthless.

When had he ever spoken so softly?

—

Xiangzi smiled lightly. “Old sir, my apologies—I happen to like quiet too.”

Feng Fu’s smile froze.

Two Feng guards stepped forward, their expressions icy.

Xiangzi turned his head slowly, still looking out the window, as if oblivious to the tension.

Feng Fu smiled, tucking his hands in his sleeves, stepping back, and said warmly, “Break one of his legs and throw him out.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a man charged forward.

His fist turned into a claw, striking at Xiangzi’s neck.

Xiangzi seemed unaware, unmoving.

The man’s eyes flashed with ruthlessness, but then… his proud iron claw felt like it had grabbed refined steel.

Xiangzi didn’t budge, turning his head with a gentle smile.

Cold sweat broke out on the man’s forehead—a tough one.

Before he could think, the world spun.

No one saw what the tall man did—only a blur, and the burly man flew like a chick, crashing through a compartment before stopping.

Amid flying dust, shouts, screams, and roars mixed together.

Feng Fu’s dim eyes narrowed sharply. “Protect the young miss!”

A fierce aura swept the carriage.

Xiangzi didn’t press the attack, only lightly brushing white marks off his silk shirt, muttering, “This outfit cost four silver dollars. If it’s ruined, I’ll have to settle accounts with your Feng Family.”

With that, the tall man sat back down.

Feng Fu’s eyes flickered; he stopped two guards rushing forward, suppressing his emotions, and cupped his hands. “May I ask your background, young brother? Since you’re in our Feng Family Village, let’s not have a misunderstanding.”

Xiangzi smiled but said nothing.

“Then you intend to oppose the Feng Family?” Feng Fu asked calmly, face unchanged.

—

Perhaps used to Baolin Martial Hall, Xiangzi hadn’t heard such blatant intimidation in a while.

His brow arched slightly as he stood slowly. “Old thing, are you threatening me?”

Feng Fu’s eyes narrowed; he stepped back.

Two Feng guards rushed forward, drawing long knives from their waists—daring to draw blades on the Nanyuan train showed the Feng Family’s arrogance.

With a clang of unsheathing,

Xiangzi sighed, patting his rattan box.

Two short spears slid out.

Short spears, perfect for close-quarters in tight spaces.

Facing the two knife glints, Xiangzi twisted his ankle slightly.

A puff of gray smoke exploded under his foot.

The entire carriage seemed to shake.

As the saying went, an inch shorter, an inch deadlier. Short spears differed from sweeping long spears, focusing on point, stab, flick, stir.

If a long spear was a dragon, Xiangzi’s short spears were two venomous snakes.

Especially with Jade Ring Steps, his figure was ghostly, untouchable.

In the narrow carriage, Xiangzi hunched, advancing in alternating arcs.

His left short spear parried a long knife, sliding down the blade’s momentum, instantly severing a Feng guard’s ankle.

His right short spear didn’t retreat, thrusting straight at the other guard’s throat despite the gleaming knife.

The spear’s momentum was like thunder, striking first despite moving second.

You want to chop me; I’ll stab your throat—guess who can take it.

Five Tigers Gate-Breaking Spear was born on battlefields, emphasizing decisiveness.

Unlike the powerful, bold strokes of long spears, dual short spears in close combat were all about trading lives.

The Feng guard couldn’t dodge, forced to pull back and block with his knife across his chest.

But the short spear stirred downward, plunging into his thigh.

Two wails rang out almost simultaneously.

In a blink, two Ninth Grade entry-level martial artists lost their legs.

From Feng Fu’s “break his leg” to now—just the blink of an eye.

The carriage was stunned.

—

Amid the piercing wails,

Xiangzi held a short spear horizontally at Feng Fu’s neck, calm. “Old thing… are you deliberately opposing me?”

“You’re a Feng Family manager—does the whole family act as recklessly as you?”

A bead of sweat rolled down Feng Fu’s forehead, but his face showed little fear.

“Young brother, impressive skills. I, Feng Fu, was blind… kill or torture as you wish.”

“This was all my recklessness, unrelated to my young miss.”

Hearing this, Xiangzi looked at the Feng eldest miss with interest.

Surprisingly,

Her face showed no fear—only faint excitement and disdain?

“A-Fu… the Feng Family’s face is lost.”

The stunning Feng miss rose lightly, sneering. “Dog, you dare kill A-Fu? He’s my grandfather’s most trusted aide.”

“If you kill him, the entire Feng Family won’t let you go.”

“Do you have the guts?”

Xiangzi smiled and gently lowered his short spear.

The disdain in the Feng miss’s eyes deepened.

Suddenly, her watery eyes sharpened.

“Don’t—” Feng Fu shouted, lunging at Xiangzi.

Xiangzi spun with a flash step, kicking Feng Fu flying.

The old man spat blood but crawled back desperately.

Then, his figure froze.

Not just him—all the restless Feng guards stood stunned.

Unnoticed,

A short spear hovered at the Feng eldest miss’s brow.

—

Seated, the Feng miss pressed hard against the chair back, trembling like a sieve.

Her stubborn face finally showed undeniable fear.

“Young brother, this was all the Feng Family’s recklessness—please don’t act rashly!”

Feng Fu, supported by a guard, said sincerely, “The Feng Family will compensate you—please show mercy.”

Suddenly,

Xiangzi withdrew the short spear and smiled at the Feng miss. “This A-Fu tried to save you, yet you provoked me to kill him… the Feng Family is truly interesting.”

Her thoughts exposed, the Feng miss didn’t rage but gritted her teeth. “If you have the guts, kill me—otherwise, I look down on you!”

One had to admit, the Feng miss was a natural beauty—even in fury, she had a unique charm.

Xiangzi shrugged. “No guts… the Feng Family is so scary… I’m terrified.”

The Feng miss flushed with anger, about to speak.

But cold eyes turned to her. “Don’t push me—if I act, it’s war with the Feng Family, and I’ll take your life first!”

The Feng miss snorted coldly.

Feng Fu’s eyes narrowed; he lowered his head.

—

The Grand Marshal’s soldiers had long vanished, as if blind to the chaos in first-class.

Xiangzi sat back leisurely, hands behind his head, reclining arrogantly.

Two bloodstained short spears lay messily on the table before him.

Before him stood the solemn Feng Family group.

In the silent standoff, the scene was almost comical.

In the deathly quiet, a long whistle sounded again.

With a clang of rails, the little train stopped slowly.

Outside the window, a bustling crowd.

“Big guy, this is your last chance. If you get off now, the Feng Family will hunt you to the ends of the earth! My grandfather can’t stand being slighted!”

The Feng miss seemed composed, her nation-toppling face wearing a mischievous smile.

“Kill me or take me—only then do you have a chance to escape!”

Xiangzi smiled—this woman was crazier than the rumors.

Feng Fu had kept his head down, silent until the train stopped, when he signaled outside.

“See… this old thing secretly alerted them. Outside are Clear Gang disciples. Though at odds with my Feng Family, they’ll give us face.”

“This is your last chance, big guy—why haven’t you acted? Too cowardly?”

“You don’t dare kill me—kill this old guy in front of me, then kidnap me and ransom the Feng Family. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Those two guards were Ninth Grade—couldn’t last one move against you. You’re an expert… how can an expert be such a coward?”

“Hey… hey, are you even listening?!”

Seeing the tall man about to exit, the infamous eccentric eldest miss of Feng Family Village seemed frantic.

Her thoughts exposed by her miss, Feng Fu only smiled bitterly—seemingly helpless against her.

This Feng Family was truly strange.

Xiangzi ignored the madwoman, slinging his rattan box and standing quietly at the door.

With a creak, the door opened slowly.

Xiangzi was the first to step off.

Before him stood dozens of fully armed Clear Gang disciples.

Leading them was Liu Futang, leader overseeing this rail line.

Liu Futang, in his thirties, lean with sharp, bright eyes—a capable man.

He held a vividly painted portrait. Seeing the tall man descend, his face lit with a smile.

But…

Before he could speak,

A furious yellow-clad woman stormed out of the carriage—so enraged that even her two towering maids nearly failed to hold her back.

Liu Futang’s eyelids twitched at the sight—this madwoman was on this train? Wasn’t she sent to Shen City by her father?

“Liu Futang, kill him… chop this dog into pieces and feed him to the dogs! This cowardly wretch!”

“I’ll give you a thousand… no, two thousand silver dollars!”

The woman’s hoarse shouts, wrapped in the whistle’s wail, echoed across the platform.

All eyes turned.

Xiangzi looked back at the Feng miss, a intrigued smile on his face.

The Feng miss froze, her flushed face flashing confusion: They call me crazy—is this big guy the real lunatic?

But in an instant, she understood the smile’s meaning.

Over a dozen Clear Gang disciples, led by Liu Futang, bowed in unison: “Clear Gang disciples welcome Master Xiang.”

The Feng miss’s expression froze solid.

—

In the swaying carriage, Liu Futang smiled broadly. “Master Xiang… how did you end up provoking that madwoman?”

“Oh?” Xiangzi smiled. “She wanted to cripple my leg—can’t I fight back?”

Hearing this, Liu Futang understood—the audacious Feng miss had finally met her match, offending a Baolin Martial Hall disciple here for training.

Having received prior orders from Old Qi, Liu Futang knew this lord’s background—not just his ties to Young Master Qi, but his martial talent made him worth courting.

The old helmsman had warned: if this lord suffered the slightest grievance here, Liu Futang’s skin would be peeled.

Thinking this, Liu Futang glanced at Xiangzi’s expression before explaining carefully.

The Feng;s eldest miss was doted on by Old Master Feng. Eccentric since childhood, she had bright eyes and pearly teeth but a heart as venomous as a scorpion.

As a child, she only caused trouble in the village, at worst making maids and servants suffer.

As she grew, her actions turned more perverse.

Not to mention sneaking out and turning the village upside down.

Last year, a high-ranking aide from the Grand Marshal’s Mansion passed through and somehow offended her—she had his tendons severed.

For that, the reclusive Old Master Feng personally apologized at Forty-Nine City’s Grand Marshal’s Mansion, gifting demon beast meat worth a fortune to hush it up.

Thus, the current manager, “Second Master Wen,” planned to send the Feng Family’s only heir to Shen City.

But in less than two months, the doting grandfather called her back.

At this, Liu Futang smiled bitterly. “Over the years, this madwoman’s infamous reputation in Nanyuan comes from such deeds.”

“Even some of our Clear Gang disciples, for offending her, were forced to relocate from Nanyuan.”

Nanyuan referred to south of Feng Family Village, not west of Forty-Nine City—an old Great Shun name.

The “Nanyuan Railway” Xiangzi rode was named thus.

The naming alone showed Feng Family Village’s weight here.

—

Xiangzi lounged lazily in the carriage, eyes half-closed, listening silently, his face betraying no emotion. “Fine, fine… just a local tyrant. Offended is offended. In half a year, I’ll return to the martial hall anyway.”

“Of course… of course! Who is Master Xiang? The Feng Family will have to think twice!”

Despite his words, Liu Futang inwardly fretted: the old helmsman said this lord had exceptional comprehension and meticulous ways.

But now… Liu Futang saw none of that meticulousness—this lord seemed intent on clashing with the Feng Family?

With his Baolin Martial Hall status, he needn’t fear them.

But staying half a year in Feng Family Village, why invite trouble?

Thinking this, Liu Futang asked cautiously, “Master Xiang, by old rules, you needn’t stay outside the village—you could stay in our Nanyuan.”

“After all… Nanyuan is all Clear Gang territory… Feng Family Village has too many eyes; it’s inconvenient for tasks.”

Xiangzi opened his eyes, sat up, and smiled. “I appreciate Master Liu’s kindness, but this time, I’ll stay outside Feng Family Village. Since it’s training, I’ll follow the martial hall’s rules.”

Liu Futang dared not press, urging the driver toward the outskirts—near the edge of Little Blue Garment Ridge, where demon beasts roamed; rails didn’t dare extend there.

From Nanyuan to Feng Family Village was half a day’s journey.

Even so, Liu Futang remained puzzled—since this lord planned to stay outside from the start, why stir up trouble with the Feng Family?

And if he’d revealed his identity early, it wouldn’t have escalated.

That old Feng Fu was ruthless but adept at reading people.

At this thought, master Liu who’d managed Nanyuan for over a decade felt a jolt:

Was this lord doing it on purpose?

He could have stayed comfortably for half a year, yet chose to provoke the Feng Family—what exactly was he planning?