CHAPTER 157: NIGHT VENTURE INTO LITTLE BLUE GARMENT RIDGE (1)

Upon entering the fortress, all eyes met a scene of sharp austerity.

Ninth-grade martial artists in short robes filled the view, with occasional eighth-grades.

The elites of the three great martial halls had gathered here.

Within the fortress, other Baolin Martial Hall disciples, alerted, awaited at the gate under a purple-robed deputy courtyard master from Four Seas Courtyard.

The massive convoy rolled past, cloaked in killing intent.

Many martial artists stared at the purple robe, stunned: What matter… had alarmed Baolin Martial Hall’s top combat force here?

This night, rumors of Baolin Martial Hall’s forward camp spread like wildfire.

—

The three martial halls were sharply divided, even within the fortress.

Four outer bastions—one per martial hall, the last guarded by Marshal Zhang’s personal troops.

Now, Baolin’s outer bastion buzzed with clamor.

“Where are they… hurry and find help!”

“Quick… Junior Brother Zhang can’t hold on!”

Several Hundred Herbs Courtyard brothers ran frantically with herbs.

But Hundred Herbs Courtyard had so few hands—how to handle so many wounded?

In the end, they had to summon physicians from the fortress apothecaries.

Thus, the matter could no longer be concealed.

Fortunately… the disciples training here were of solid cultivation. With timely treatment, most could endure with tough skin and membranes.

But in a small room, the Four Seas Courtyard deputy master’s face was dark as storm waters.

“What… Tang Jun, what are you saying?”

“Why is there no fire lotus herb?”

“Are we… to watch Zhao Mu die before our eyes?”

The deputy’s voice was low, yet it thundered in everyone’s ears!

A middle-aged disciple wailed: “Courtyard Master Chen, I didn’t want this—these days we’ve used too much medicine, and the fire lotus herb ran out!”

“You don’t know—the Feng family supplies us less and less.”

“The Clear Gang mainly transports demon beast meat… only bringing herbs as an afterthought.”

Deputy Master Chen, a stern-faced middle martial artist, snorted coldly: “The Feng family? A fine Feng family, daring to cut Baolin Martial Hall’s supplies?” ȑаNọʙΕṠ

The room fell deathly silent.

Only inner disciples entered this room—

Who didn’t know the Feng family now clung to Revival Martial Hall’s high branch? On the surface, they obeyed Baolin, but secretly fought fiercely with the Clear Gang.

More critically… rumors said the Marshal’s Mansion backed the Feng family!

Deputy Master Chen’s eyes narrowed: “Where else is fire lotus herb?”

A silk-robed man stepped forward, sighing: “Courtyard Master Chen, I just checked Virtue Martial Hall—their forward camp is under heavy pressure. All herbs went to the front; none stocked here!”

“Perhaps… perhaps Revival—” Seeing the deputy’s darkening face, the silk-robed man swallowed his words.

No matter how low Baolin fell, they would never beg Revival.

Besides, with Revival’s haughty ways, begging would only invite humiliation.

Of Forty-Nine City’s three martial halls, Revival and Baolin were old rivals, clashing openly and covertly for years—only old rules and embassy district personages kept faces intact.

Years ago, Lin Junqing burst forth with peerless talent, crossing four grades and sixteen steps in a decade, nearly single-handedly dominating Forty-Nine City’s peers.

When Lin Junqing entered fifth-grade Pulse Condensation Realm at thirty, Baolin became undisputed first among halls with “one sect, two fifth-grades.”

But… on that arena, Lin Junqing lost.

In the end, Baolin’s great fame these years rose with Lin Junqing… and fell with him.

“Perhaps there’s still a way?” someone suddenly spoke.

All eyes turned to him.

The speaker was Tang Jun, Hundred Herbs Courtyard’s local head. Though average in cultivation, his talent in refining and pulse diagnosis was exceptional—recognized as the next courtyard master successor, sent here to train.

Tang Jun was wooden and taciturn. Under everyone’s gaze, he stammered: “Fire lotus herb is precious, but… it grows in Little Blue Garment Ridge.”

“Only… harvesting is difficult.”

“What? In Little Blue Garment Ridge? Then stop dawdling—send people to pick it!”

As the words fell, Deputy Master Chen’s expression froze.

Night wind rustled the curtains from the window.

Gazing at the ink-thick darkness, all sighed inwardly—

In the mining district, daylight offered wide vision; martial artists could form small teams to hunt demon beasts.

But at night… ore dust tormented blood energy worse, vision blurred, and those sly demon beasts were indefensible.

Not to mention high-grade great demons mastering sorcery—mostly nocturnal.

The mining district’s night was always mortal forbidden ground.

Otherwise, why had the Great Shun Dynasty spent vast resources building this fortress? Why did martial halls toil to establish forward camps?

After a moment’s hesitation, Deputy Master Chen calmed, saying mildly: “Bring the map.”

The words stunned the room.

The silk-robed man grew solemn: “Deputy Courtyard Master Chen… night action likely breaks rules!”

This silk-robed man was a Wind Justice Courtyard executive stationed here, overseeing all Baolin disciple affairs.

Earlier he called “Courtyard Master Chen”; now “Deputy”—intent clear.

Deputy Master Chen ignored him, hands clasped behind, gazing into the black night.

Then, a light laugh: “Rules?”

“Executive Qian, your Wind Justice Courtyard has rules; my Four Seas Courtyard has rules too.”

“My Four Seas rule is never watch our disciples die before our eyes.”

“Besides, Zhao Mu was wounded at the front-line camp—for Baolin.”

Deputy Master Chen’s face chilled, pointing to Liu Yi: “Liu Yi, contact the Marshal’s Mansion. Say Baolin Martial Hall requests to open the great gate!”

“If they refuse, no argument—fetch suspension baskets. We’ll lower a few people down.”

Liu Yi’s face straightened, fist in palm: “Courtyard Master, I volunteer to lead the fire lotus harvest!”

“Good, Liu Yi! I knew I hadn’t misjudged you,” Deputy Master Chen smiled, gaze drifting to the Wind Justice executive:

“The old hall master always said the martial path values most the word courage!

“We martial artists cross a single-plank bridge amid thousands—without such bold resolve… what use is great skill?

”

His words rang firm; several inner disciples surged with fervor, stepping forward to volunteer.

—

Seeing the deputy invoke the old hall master, with the crowd roused, the Wind Justice executive sighed and withdrew.

Suddenly another voice: “Uh… I fear numbers won’t help.”

Hundred Herbs executive Tang Jun paused, but insisted: “Fire lotus herb is strange—daytime, it’s fiery red and obvious; at night, it fades black, hard to spot.”

“We martial artists aren’t demon beasts—ore dust blurs night vision more. Without seventh-grade Membrane Condensation Realm… likely can’t see clearly.”

True.

Martial refinement starts with tempering the body: ninth-grade bone-quenching, eighth-grade muscle-forging, seventh-grade membrane-condensing. The first two nurture limbs and skeleton; seventh-grade refines finer aspects—like vision, hearing.

But seventh-grade martial artists were rare—even in this vast fortress, only a handful.

And now, only one seventh-grade: Deputy Master Chen.

“Then I’ll lead personally!” Deputy Master Chen decided without hesitation, asking Tang Jun softly:

“If I can see, can you identify fire lotus herb on the spot… and brew medicine in time to save Zhao Mu?”

Tang Jun broke into cold sweat—he knew he couldn’t escape.

Yet this usually timid Hundred Herbs executive said firmly: “Naturally… but brewing takes two hours!”

“Deputy Courtyard Master, time is short.”

Deputy Master Chen nodded: “Zhao Mu… muster Four Seas hands. Eighth-grade and below stay in the fortress.”

“Executive Qian, if I don’t return tonight, rush back to the hall and report to the courtyard masters.”

Said lightly, but all heard the chill.

Even the thrice-obstructing Wind Justice executive grew grave, bowing deeply: “May Deputy Courtyard Master Chen succeed swiftly.”

Deputy Master Chen laughed freely: “Everyone—one incense stick, then depart!”

—

Outside the room, many outer disciples looked uneasy—by hall rules, none below ninth-grade completed entered Little Blue Garment Ridge.

Most were new arrivals from the hall for training.

In past years, Baolin was stable. Though Little Blue Garment Ridge was rumored strange and perilous, with fortress and forward camps, disciples suffered little, rarely seeing blood.

Moreover, most martial artists were pampered young masters raised on medicinal soups—where had they seen today’s gore? Some fear was natural.

Especially when the room opened, the seniors’ faces grim.

Seeing Deputy Master Chen rarely in short martial attire, outer disciples whispered in secret alarm.

Tonight… the seniors would enter Little Blue Garment Ridge?

Deputy Master Chen saw it all—today’s forward camp loss had crushed Baolin’s morale.

If Zhao Mu isn’t saved tonight… those timid outer disciples may forever see Little Blue Garment Ridge as a dragon’s pool or tiger’s den, never daring to step foot.

Three halls pushing north concerned that major event in half a year.

Embassy district personages were clear—whoever first opened the ancient path to Great Blue Garment Ridge… doubled medicinal quotas for ten years!

In recent struggles with Revival, Baolin waned.

If Revival took double quotas, their eighth-grade disciples would suppress the other two halls—Baolin would have no chance to rise!

As Four Seas deputy, Chen Xiong wasn’t foolish—how could he not know Little Blue Garment Ridge’s night perils?

Martial artists hunted demon beasts… but demon beasts coveted martial artists’ blood energy too.

To high-grade demon beasts, a seventh-grade martial artist’s flesh was irresistible.

The moment he stepped out, his unconcealed seventh-grade blood energy would itch the hearts of lurking great demons.

But what could Chen Xiong do?

The forward camp was lost under his watch—one mistake enough to strip his purple robe.

If Zhao Mu, this loyal outer standout, died here, Baolin would chill countless outer hearts… and become Forty-Nine City’s laughingstock.

So tonight, even through mountains of blades or seas of fire, Chen Xiong had to stake his life.

—

Several yellow-robed disciples readied gear; even the petite Third Miss Li donned thin iron armor—

This armor, mixed with fire vein ore, was sturdy and offset some metal ore dust suppression on blood energy. Though cumbersome, it protected vitals.

Not standard inner disciple gear—custom-made by the Li family for Third Miss Li. Even Four Seas executive Liu Yi could only envy.

The Li family was truly wealthy.

Liu Yi finished gearing, about to lead out, when a giant blocked him.

“Junior Brother Li, aren’t you with Junior Brother Zhao Mu?”

“Senior Brother Liu, I just asked Senior Brother Tang Jun… he said tonight you go out to harvest fire lotus herb, but it’s hardest to spot at night.”

Xiangzi cupped fists, voice grave: “My cultivation is low… but my eyesight is good. If allowed, I’ll accompany you—perhaps I can help.”

Liu Yi paused.

A newly entered ninth-grade junior—what help in Little Blue Garment Ridge?

Especially pitch-black mining district night; even he, eighth-grade Muscle-Forging Realm, might struggle to discern direction.

Glancing around—at the uneasy outer disciples, this lowest-realm junior seemed most calm.

Such courage was rare.

Liu Yi smiled: “Junior Brother’s heart is admirable. If Zhao wakes, he’ll be glad.”

“But this outing is truly perilous. Even if your eyes are sharp, if we meet danger… we may be too busy to protect you.”

Said gently, but firm.

Other inner disciples watched the new junior with interest.

Third Miss Li said warmly: “Junior Brother Li worries for comrades—we all know. But mining district nights are vicious… you’ve little experience here. Caution first.”

Xiangzi gave a wry smile, saying no more.

Third Miss Li was right—normally, a new ninth-grade couldn’t withstand night ore dust.

But…

These days, Xiangzi had stayed in Little Blue Garment Ridge—his terrain familiarity likely surpassed these inner disciples.

Not to mention his eyes that saw night as day.

But these were his greatest secrets—not to be spoken lightly.

Truly frustrating.

Zhao Mu was gravely wounded, urgently needing fire lotus herb. Any mishap could ruin his cultivation… or life.

Xiangzi watched the hurrying group, sighing inwardly.

Somehow, he recalled that night in the Li family mining district.

After Uncle Jie and Wen San died, Xiangzi had no friends in this world.

His friends were few…

So, not one could be lost.