A posting for training concerned both the martial hall’s prestige and one’s personal future.

Naturally, one couldn’t take the pay and slack off.

As a guest martial artist, no menial tasks—just one duty: hold the fort.

Like past life gray dealings needing an official figurehead, same principle.

Clear Gang was powerful, but paled beside Baolin Martial Hall. With a Baolin disciple anchoring Nanyuan, Clear Gang operated easier.

At least no worry of other halls encroaching.

For over a century, the three great halls’ territories were sharply divided—even the Grand Marshal’s Mansion dared not meddle lightly.

But today’s affair was odd.

Clear Gang clashing with Feng Family Village?

Usually, they minded their own waters—one a local snake taxing passes at key terrain;

the other Forty-Nine City’s top gang handling demon beast meat transport.

How did these two start fighting?—

The clash was at T-Junction Bridge, not far from Feng outer village.

The lackey galloped ahead; Xiangzi, relying on rickshaw puller passive, ran effortlessly on foot.

This sight left the mounted Clear Gang lackey tongue-tied, passersby dumbfounded.

Soon, they reached T-Junction Bridge.

An open-shouldered stone arch bridge of blue bricks spanning Fragrant River banks.

Arriving, Xiangzi’s interest waned—no fight at all.

On the far side, several men in pale yellow short shirts gripped long knives menacingly.

This side, over a dozen Clear Gang disciples guarded a caravan, weapons drawn, faces indignant.

The groups faced off across the bridge—curses flew, no blows.

Very “whatcha lookin’ at?” “lookin’ at you, whatcha gonna do?” vibe.

—

Xiangzi strolled over, hands clasped behind.

The Clear Gang disciples spotted him and shouted, “Master Xiang!”

The leader, Deputy Master Ban Zhiyong, had accompanied Liu Futang at the station days ago.

“Zhiyong, what happened? Causing a ruckus this early.”

Ban Zhiyong, thirties, round-faced, pot-bellied Ninth Grade minor accomplishment martial artist.

Years of ease had dulled his skills; in silk robes, flabby, more merchant than fighter.

The deputy’s face burned with rage. “Master Xiang… those Feng guards are unreasonable—insisting on crossing T-Junction Bridge!”

The Feng guards sneered. “Just crossing a bridge—Clear Gang’s too petty.”

“No ‘Clear Gang’ carved on it—why block us?”

Xiangzi listened smilingly, piecing it together.

Mixing in Feng outer village these days, he’d learned much.

Years ago, Clear Gang and Feng weren’t rivals.

But as Feng grew, they reached outward—inevitably clashing with Clear Gang.

This modest stone arch bridge marked their final border.

Strategically vital—up to Little Blue Garment Ridge, east to Nanyuan—Clear Gang’s lifeline for demon beast meat.

These years, Forty-Nine City’s banners changed—Marshal Cao gone, Zhang in—

but Clear Gang endured, thanks to the massive floating dock.

Twenty percent of its daily demon beast meat came from Little Blue Garment Ridge.

Thus, T-Junction Bridge linking Nanyuan station and the ridge was Nanyuan Clear Gang’s critical point.

Hence Ban Zhiyong, Ninth Grade minor accomplishment deputy, guarded it.

—

Seeing Xiangzi approach, the Feng guards ceased provocation.

A middle-aged martial artist crossed, smiling broadly, cupping fists. “Master Xiang, we meant no offense.”

“But territory isn’t settled by words… you’re new, perhaps unaware.”

He pointed to a long-abandoned residence nearby.

“Years ago, Deputy Ban lived there. Now he’s in a Nanyuan mansion.”

“Since Clear Gang abandoned it, our Feng Family clears scattered demon beasts for locals—is that wrong?”

“Last year, the Grand Marshal’s Mansion decreed rural folk may fortify for self-defense. We’re ridding harm for the people.”

“Master Xiang, as Baolin disciple, speak fairly.”

At this, many Clear Gang faces flushed; even Ban Zhiyong hung his head.

“M-Master Xiang, it’s not that I, Ban Zhiyong, wouldn’t stay…” Sweat beaded on the deputy’s forehead; he smiled bitterly. “These years, Little Blue Garment Ridge is cursed—demon beasts raid at night.”

“We… we’ve lost several brothers—can’t stay!”

The Feng martial artist smirked triumphantly. “Master Xiang, you heard—Clear Gang won’t stay.”

“They won’t; we will.”

“Your status is high—we’re rough folk, no match—but you’re just posted. Entry-grade demon beasts don’t play. Why meddle?”

“I, Feng, though untalented, am Revival Martial Hall alumnus—”

Mid-sentence, his face froze— the tall man opposite turned fierce.

Under surging blood energy pressure, even Ninth Grade minor accomplishment, his heart quaked; the rest stuck in his throat.

Rumored this Clear Gang guest was mere Ninth Grade entry—how such piercing blood aura?

—

Xiangzi smiled. “Teaching me how to act?”

The Feng martial artist’s face stiffened; he bowed his head, cupping fists. “Dare not.”

Xiangzi chuckled lightly—says dare not, but unwilling.

“Your name?”

“Feng outer village guard captain, Feng Hong.”

The middle-aged man said calmly.

Xiangzi smiled again.

Revival Martial Hall, one of Forty-Nine City’s three greats, had produced geniuses lately, momentum surging, faintly overshadowing the others.

No wonder Feng drew closer to Revival.

“If I recall, shedding the martial hall short shirt means no longer a disciple—those the rules?” Xiangzi asked smilingly.

Feng Hong paused, unsure why the young giant asked, nodding lightly.

“Naturally… Forty-Nine City martial artists all from the three halls, but leaving means no sect!”

Only the three halls had Bone-Strengthening Broth quotas—all Ninth Grade from them.

But halls kept no idlers—like apprentice culls, ordinary disciples failing the three chasms by age left quietly.

No more mentioning sect—life and death unrelated.

Xiangzi nodded smilingly. “Oh, then it’s settled.”

Words unfinished—

fist wind rose!

—

A figure flew like a fallen leaf.

Caught off guard, Ninth Grade minor accomplishment Feng Hong was blasted away by the collapsing fist.

Even so, he rolled several times, dissipating the violent force.

Blood trickled from his mouth.

Feng Hong glared at the giant yards away—what domineering fist wind… especially with Bright Force layered, disrupting his dantian blood energy, nearly toppling him.

He forced himself up, blocking subordinates rushing forward.

Xiangzi eyed the rising Feng guard, lips curling faintly. “By Baolin Martial Hall’s mandate, I hold this ground. As Revival alumnus, you know what that means.”

“Know the rules—don’t blame my merciless fists.”

“Now I’m here—this T-Junction Bridge is Clear Gang territory.”

Smiling, he pointed to the abandoned residence. “That spot’s scenic… suits me. From tonight, I move in.”

All were shocked.

Feng side: this giant so overbearing, disregarding Feng face, flipping instantly.

Clear Gang: this new Ninth Grade guest so bold—those night-raiding demon beasts no joke.

Only Xiangzi stood hands clasped, smile warm.

—

Resentment flashed in Feng Hong’s eyes.

He’d heard of this Ninth Grade genius’s arrogance, instructed by Second Master Wen to stay low.

Even his words hinted Feng-Revival ties, hoping the guest backed off— why risk?

Later Feng compensate; matter closed.

But Feng Hong underestimated the giant’s arrogance.

Others fought on disagreement; this one chatted amiably then struck?

Feng Hong said no more, snorted coldly, leading guards away.

Xiangzi blinked—expected a brawl; ended so tamely?

Clearly Feng probing today.

Seeing Feng leave, Clear Gang cheered.

But a bitter face approached. “Master Xiang, truly moving here tonight?”

Xiangzi turned, eyeing the cowed deputy, scoffing. “Otherwise?”

“But I’m just a guest. If Deputy Ban decides to yield this ground, I’ve nothing to say.”

“Returning to Forty-Nine City, my brother Qi Ruiliang won’t blame me.”

At this, Ban Zhiyong sweated coldly—spoke too much; forgot this?

This lord was Third Young Master Qi’s friend—one word reached heavens!

But… did he think Little Blue Garment Ridge outskirts’ demon beasts easy?

Ban Zhiyong wailed inwardly!

—

Outside Feng Village, Feng Hong stormed, face iron-blue, subordinates trailing.

“Brother Hong, took that punch for nothing—just let it go?” A man grumbled indignantly.

“This Baolin disciple too domineering—Clear Gang abandoned that wreck; how dare he say Feng can’t take it?”

Feng Hong halted; one glance, the speaker grinned sheepishly, head down.

“Today was a probe—Second Master Wen ordered no conflict with the lord. Want to test Second Master’s methods?”

At “Second Master Wen,” the man shuddered, shaking head. “Just… hated seeing Brother Hong wronged—wanted payback.”

Feng Hong sneered. “That arrogant fool thinks martial hall backing lets him run wild. Feng minds Baolin face, but Little Blue Garment Ridge demon beasts don’t recognize gold-thread banners!”

“Wait till night beasts come—he’ll retreat.”

“Then Feng sends men—what can Baolin say? Clear Gang dare bare teeth?”

Guards flattered. “Brother Hong is mighty… far-sighted.”

Amid praise, Feng Hong secretly rubbed his chest—that punch still winded him.

A Ninth Grade minor accomplishment, no chance to counter a fresh Ninth Grade?

Such fierce aura from robust blood energy—rare even in Revival.

No wonder “Second Master Wen” wary.

Feng Hong frowned—

Could the lord truly handle those demon beasts?

—

Night fell.

Outside T-Junction Bridge, roaring bonfire.

Clear Gang disciples drank yellow wine, gnawed Master Xiang’s bestowed demon beast meat, triumphant.

“Thanks, Master Xiang.”

“Master Xiang generous.”

Xiangzi grilled nonstop, smiling—Feng-sent meat anyway; gifting favor cost nothing.

Feng’s rise these years sparked Clear Gang friction; Nanyuan residents long seethed.

That Feng Hong, mere outer guard captain, Ninth Grade minor accomplishment, usually arrogant, disregarding even Ban Zhiyong.

Today vented nicely!

Who expected Master Xiang to punch on disagreement?

Haughty Feng Hong dared no retort, took the hit, slunk away?

Now Clear Gang saw Baolin disciples’ prowess and flair!

More: skilled and generous!

Entry-grade demon beast meat unlimited!

Even with Master Liu in Nanyuan, no such life!

Laughter rang; only Ban Zhiyong’s face bitter gourd.

Xiangzi smilingly gave him the last grilled meat.

Ban took it, forced smile, bit absently.

Tasteless!

—

Night hazy, T-Junction Bridge lively.

“Hm… here, two more stones… then mud… slap it on.”

Xiangzi hands on hips, directing Clear Gang building stone walls outside the residence.

Clear Gang entrants at least Blood Energy Barrier—

few-zhang temporary earth wall done in an hour.

From mine routes at the rickshaw yard, Xiangzi knew demon beast habits well.

Fierce, but tied to colorful minerals—why only near mines.

Higher-grade beasts couldn’t enter mortal lands—like common martial artists avoiding deep mines.

Deadly mineral dust to humans was demon beasts’ lifeblood.

Conversely, ordinary stones, mud without dust harmed beasts—prolonged exposure weakened them greatly.

These mud and stones carted from beyond Nanyuan, dust-free, most dreaded by beasts.

Logically, beasts reaching here from Little Blue Garment Ridge were ungraded—Xiangzi, skin and tendons minor accomplishment, could crush barehanded.

But caution led to defenses.

Eyeing the mud-stone wall circle, Xiangzi nodded satisfied. “Thanks, all. I’ll rest—if beasts come, call me.”

Residence abandoned years, but furnishings remained—passable for a night.

Clear Gang exchanged glances—lord’s heart big.

Effort and sweat sobered them; wine gone.

Fear of beasts crept back.

Anxiety rising, Xiangzi yawned, strolling to his room.

—

Moon thick, faint roars from the woods.

Bonfire roared; distant dark four-legged shadows.

Several ghostly golden eyes flickered in dense night.

Night-watch Clear Gang disciples paled in terror.

“Wolf demons—demon wolves!”

“Bad—wake Master Xiang; wolves hunt in packs—we can’t hold; retreat!”

Ban Zhiyong, sleepless, rushed out at the sound.

Seeing golden eyes in the woods, sweat beaded; he grabbed a lackey. “Master Xiang?”

Suddenly, a crying face ran out. “M-Master Xiang gone—not in room!”

Clear Gang hearts jolted!

“Damn… shouldn’t trust hall folk; brothers… we’re screwed.” Crisis sparked Ban Zhiyong’s courage; teeth gritted, he roared:

“This wall won’t stop wolf packs… brothers, weapons together.”

“Don’t run—these beasts wait to scatter us—separate, none survive!”

Veteran deputy, blood courage surged in peril.

All clustered around Ban, trembling.

Suddenly Ban’s eyes narrowed.

Whooshing from opposite woods, then demon beasts’ wretched howls!

All stunned—beasts fighting each other?

“Stay calm—these days Little Blue Garment Ridge cursed… beasts hunt smart; many brothers lost—don’t fall for it!” Ban said gravely.

Soon, howls ceased.

Clear Gang exchanged incredulous looks—beasts smarter? Feigning weakness?

Abruptly, all gazes froze.

By flickering firelight, a figure emerged slowly from the dark woods opposite.

All shuddered.

Clearing the figure—Master… Xiang?

“What’re you waiting for—come haul demon beast meat.”

Xiangzi’s voice weary.

Dark gold-flecked crimson blood slid from the grim spear tip.

His black short shirt splattered with gore and wolf fur—eerie in cold moonlight.

Like a demon god.

—

By the bonfire, Clear Gang disciples blood-splattered, faces joyous.

Several calf-sized carcasses laid out.

Each wolf demon’s neck pierced identically by spear—precise.

“One… two… three wolf demons, plus one entry-grade!”

All dumbfounded, staring at the giant.

Obedient—this Ninth Grade entry?

What entry-grade took three wind-fast wolf demons?

Let alone… an entry-grade one?

If all Baolin disciples this capable… what for Revival and Virtue halls?

Clear Gang eyes filled with awe.

Before, lord aimless, strolling outer village—thought a dandy.

Even hammering Feng Hong midday… some doubted.

Now, seeing wolf carcasses, truly convinced.

Even Ban astounded—now understood Liu Futang’s warnings: don’t offend this lord!

When Xiangzi looked, Ban forced a fawning smile. “Master Xiang mighty… mighty.”

But his smile froze.

“Oh? Thought I heard someone say screwed over?”

Ban grinned awkwardly, speechless.

“Scram—store this meat properly; tomorrow sell high in Feng Village!”

“Oh… leave an ungraded demon beast—divide among brothers! Guarded half-night—hard work.”

All cheered hotly.

Even Ban tongue-clicked inwardly: ungraded beast—bones, skin, meat—over a hundred silver dollars?

Gave freely—what a lavish lord!

—

Demon beasts treasure troves.

Skins for bowstrings, flesh and bones prime broth ingredients.

Lucky, entry-grade might yield usable demon beast bones—like Xiangzi’s prior two.

Alas… luck poor; no bones from three ungraded or the entry-grade wolf.

But night’s haul rich.

Ban somehow got an abacus, happily calculating beside Xiangzi—four hundred-plus silver dollars.

Enough for twenty blood energy broth sets.

Pity far from Nanyuan—fresh meat to Forty-Nine City by train would fetch more.

All slept excited; few on watch.

Xiangzi found a natural hot spring in the back—bit hot, but fine for his minor accomplishment skin-grinding body.

Midnight, no sleep; he soaked.

Poured a blood energy broth; half-hour, crimson powder colorless—post-Ninth Grade, absorption faster.

But continuous days, broth efficacy diminished.

Same for precious Skin-Grinding Pills, Marrow-Replenishing Pills.

Headache!

Either higher-grade broths or quantity.

Good he found T-Junction Bridge—beasts to hunt, no broth money worry.

Plus his innate drug-devouring ox-horse physique—who matched his martial progress?

Indeed… fortune sought in danger.

But Xiangzi frowned slightly—

Compared to Li Family mines beasts, tonight’s wolves felt off.

Sparring Zhao Mu lately, Xiangzi knew his strength—ordinary Ninth Grade perfected no match.

Plus night boost, eerie eyes—hunting beasts easy.

What unnerved him: the wolves’ strange behavior.

Ban mentioned bridge beasts; Xiangzi shrugged—beasts needed colorful minerals; no high-grade left Little Blue Garment Ridge easily.

But tonight opened his eyes.

Unlike the Ninth Grade peak tiger at Li mines, these wolves acted too abnormal—below Eighth Grade should lack sentience, yet tonight like intelligent.

He’d just drawn spear, felled a few—then a metallic screeching wail; instantly, wolves scattered.

Like… someone commanding with that sound in shadows.

Too shocking; Xiangzi was unsure—when could demon beasts be controlled?

As Xiangzi soaked comfortably,

a pair of golden eyes suddenly appeared in opposite woods—flashing gone.

Not beast slit pupils, but round human-like.