These days, all the doubts swirling in Xiangzi’s mind seemed to resolve themselves.

Why so many multicolored mineral dust courses in this apprentice assessment?

Why had Wind Justice Courtyard sent him to Feng Village?

Why had Clear Gang always been so timid?

In the end, it all came down to this transport line in Little Blue Garment Ridge—the lifeline sustaining Baolin Martial Hall’s foothold here.

Presumably, the hall’s original plan was to have apprentices handle this transport line—humble as it was, yet Baolin Martial Hall’s best choice.

After all, apprentices rose and fell with the hall; there’d be no wavering like Feng Village or Clear Gang.

And in this batch of hall apprentices, commoner disciples outnumbered previous years, ensuring their loyalty.

After all, disciples like Zhao Mu—rootless, clawing their way up—were truly willing to spill their lives for the hall.

Now, Zhao Mu had arrived early in Little Blue Garment Ridge, and the apprentices’ training had reached its peak.

Everything proceeded in order,

But alas… Baolin Martial Hall’s forward base was destroyed the night before last!

Though Xiangzi didn’t know why the three major martial halls madly pushed deeper into Little Blue Garment Ridge, he knew Baolin couldn’t fall behind the other two without rebuilding this forward base.

And in a mining area, any construction… was a massive undertaking.

People, money, goods—none could be lacking.

And most critically… it hinged on “people.”

Who exactly would transport these supplies into Little Blue Garment Ridge.

With the forward camp destroyed and Feng’s constraints, this became Baolin Martial Hall’s pressing crisis.

It also highlighted the transport line’s vital importance.

—

Deacon Wu gazed quietly at Xiangzi, his face betraying no emotion.

A solution for the transport line?

If another junior brother had said this, he’d dismiss it as youthful bravado.

If it were so easily solved, why would Baolin Martial Hall’s courtyard masters have worried themselves gray, even eyeing apprentices?

But this tall junior brother… had just handed him a major merit.

So, Deacon Wu smiled: “Oh? Junior Brother Li has a method? If you resolve this… it’s a great achievement.”

Xiangzi spoke softly: “Forty-Nine City’s rickshaw yards!”

Rickshaw yards?

Deacon Wu paused slightly, frowning inwardly: Those mud-legged rickshaw pullers? What could they accomplish?

Xiangzi explained: “Forty-Nine City’s major rickshaw yards all traverse mining areas—their pullers are Blood Energy Barrier martial artists who endure mineral dust.”

“Smaller yards lack that scale, but have plenty of experienced pullers.”

“Most crucially—these small yards have no fixed routes, no ranked martial artists as guards. What they crave most is a stable line.”

“Now that Clear Gang won’t wade into these murky waters… we can bring in a few small yards from Forty-Nine City. With Baolin Martial Hall protecting them and demon beast meat business to boot, wouldn’t those yard owners be overjoyed?”

Hearing this, Deacon Wu pondered, asking with some doubt:

“Those mud-legged pullers usually haul rickshaws, transporting goods for others. Little Blue Garment Ridge teems with demon beasts—utterly perilous. Would they take it on?”

Xiangzi chuckled wryly, understanding this Wind Justice Courtyard deacon’s concerns.

Deacon Wu came from a great household, rarely touching base forces like rickshaw yards, naturally harboring doubts.

Perilous? Demon beasts devouring men?

In this world, what devoured men if not demon beasts?

Hadn’t countless rootless refugees, for a mere steamed bun, willingly risked their lives in Little Blue Garment Ridge?

Let alone rickshaw yards.

If they knew they could haul demon beast meat under Baolin Martial Hall’s banner, Forty-Nine City’s yards would scramble for it.

This was the so-called “information gap.”

How could these hall bigwigs understand the struggles of the lowly!

Xiangzi smiled: “If Deacon Wu has doubts, let Junior Brother handle it. Once there’s progress, report to Wind Justice Courtyard then.”

This hit Deacon Wu’s sweet spot, earning more appreciation for this junior brother—capable, willing to take the fall—a true talent!

Deacon Wu’s last doubts vanished, smiling: “Since Junior Brother is posted to Clear Gang, overseeing Feng Village outskirts, wanting to make a name is only right.”

“As Senior Brother… I naturally support. If you need manpower, just say. Half the outer sect disciples are training in Little Blue Garment Ridge now—I’ll send aid if needed.”

Xiangzi’s smile unchanged, inwardly cursing old fox.

For such a major matter, this deacon spoke only of “favor,” never procedures.

Clearly, he still lacked confidence in Xiangzi, wanting to see if he could actually achieve something.

If Xiangzi truly built momentum, this deacon would eagerly “join the grand undertaking” and report to Wind Justice Courtyard immediately.

But it didn’t matter.

Seeking profit, avoiding harm; craving merit, shunning blame—human nature in any world.

At least this superior wanted to get things done.

“Senior Brother… Junior Brother will take his leave.”

“Safe travels, little brother. Come anytime.”

“Please rest assured, Deacon Wu—any progress, I’ll report to you.”

“Heh heh… ‘report’ is too formal. Communicate… communicate.”

—

After Xiangzi left,

Deacon Wu leaned back in his chair, rubbing his brow; the gloom there finally eased.

As a deacon exceptionally promoted by Courtyard Master Xi, how could he not know the transport line’s importance?

He had come to this Little Blue Garment Ridge fortress precisely to ensure this line’s smoothness.

For it, he had even humbled himself, visiting Feng Village several times.

But that wheelchair-bound old man of Feng… outwardly polite, words exceedingly deferential, yet secretly obstructive.

Deacon Wu had no recourse.

What else? Exterminate Feng?

Not only against rules—after exterminating Feng, where to find replacements for the transport line?

Supplies might even halt.

Suddenly, the tall junior brother flashed in his mind.

Deacon Wu frowned, somehow… unable to fully read this junior brother.

Only now did he realize—those earlier acts of arrogance were all for outsiders.

A ninth-rank so young, having grasped Bright Force, with vast martial prospects, yet born with a crystal-clear heart, flawless in conduct.

Truly strange.

At this thought, Deacon Wu’s brow arched—could Courtyard Master Xi have chosen him for other purposes?

After all, the hall’s hidden traitor apprentice had been uncovered by this Junior Brother Li!

Using fingerprints to flush the snake—meticulous, thorough.

Perhaps… he is the key to breaking this Little Blue Garment Ridge chaos in the courtyard master’s mind?

He lifted his teacup; the fine tea somehow lost its usual mellow warmth.

The earlier dispersed gloom seemed to gather again on this Wind Justice Courtyard deacon’s brow.

—

Dawn light faintly glowed,

The wooden fortress buzzed with joy.

Thanks to Deputy Master Chen leading an elite team to secure Fire Lotus Grass, Zhao Mu’s life was saved.

Other hall disciples’ injuries were light; all elite ninth-rank great accomplishments, after resting half the night, they moved freely.

The previous night’s peril forced Baolin Martial Hall to abandon the forward camp, yet no disciple perished—a fortune amid misfortune.

Now, many disciples witnessing Chen Xiong’s ferocious valor boosted hall morale—gains amid losses.

As for Xiangzi, he had no time for idle concerns.

He first chatted with Zhao Mu, relieved to see his ruddy complexion.

As a posted training disciple, Xiangzi couldn’t linger in the fortress.

As the gates opened, Xiangzi shouldered his heavy rattan box and exited.

Now the rattan box proved useful—crafted from wood-type demon plants, masking most extraordinary mineral auras.

Just out, someone called him.

Liu Yi.

“Junior Brother Li heading back already?”

“Senior Brother Liu, returning to T-Shaped Bridge. Any instructions?”

“Nothing much—just taking people to check the forward camp.”

Seeing Liu Yi’s freshly bandaged form, Xiangzi marveled inwardly—worthy of being called inner sect twin prodigies with Wan Yuxuan; battling half the night, yet still vigorous, heading to the forward camp again?

Liu Yi eyed Xiangzi, frowning—this qi and blood seems unusual.

“Junior Brother’s current realm?”

“No hiding from Senior Brother—just entered ninth-rank minor accomplishment.”

Liu Yi paused, heart jolting—this junior brother entered ninth rank barely two months ago… and already minor accomplishment?

Such progress surpassed even Wan Yuxuan back then; Liu Yi himself had taken half a year for ninth-rank minor accomplishment!

Utterly astonishing.

At this, Liu Yi’s smile deepened, cupping fists:

“Last month back at the hall, Courtyard Master Liu nagged me endlessly to look after Junior Brother. Lately, fortress affairs kept me busy.”

Seeing Xiangzi’s surprise, Liu Yi explained smiling: “Miscellaneous Courtyard’s Master Liu is my elder… I entered hall apprenticeship thanks to his recommendation letter.”

“Master Liu always says hosting this apprentice trial’s greatest merit was selecting Junior Brother you.”

Hearing this, Xiangzi quickly cupped fists, showing apt trepidation: “Master Liu overpraises. Without his favor, my ninth-rank life-death tempering would have no path; truly, Master Liu is my guiding light.”

This was slightly exaggerated.

But to Liu Yi, it was just a nodding smile: “In a few days, Master Liu will come to the fortress—then we brothers can reunite.”

Xiangzi naturally agreed.

The two chatted amiably; the inner sect juniors behind Liu Yi marveled inwardly—when did Senior Brother Liu become so approachable?

In the crowd, Third Miss Li gazed at Xiangzi’s figure, pausing, her crescent brows furrowing.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before parting with waves.

Between clever men, no more words needed.

Liu Yi subtly revealed his roots; Xiangzi aptly showed stance.

Though not same courtyard, both from Miscellaneous Courtyard Master Liu’s line—naturally different bonds.

A deeply cultivated senior brother, a rising genius junior—mutual support was due.

This was… the circle.

Especially Liu Yi, as inner sect senior, initiating with Xiangzi—a stance in itself.

For a new disciple, considerable favor.

Xiangzi knew well, inwardly musing: Liu Yi, with those thick brows and big eyes, unexpectedly worldly in favors.

Good too—when pulling the transport line, another inner sect senior to wave as a banner.

But Miscellaneous Courtyard Master Liu coming personally?

Likely tied to the forward base’s destruction.

Evidently, the three halls’ open and secret struggles in Little Blue Garment Ridge were fierce, drawing a courtyard master.

—

Along the way, more bones.

In one night, only gnawed remnants—likely those refugees hired by Feng.

Since Marshal Zhang took Forty-Nine City, fortress logistics fell solely to Feng, fattening them these years.

Xiangzi sighed softly, suspicion rising: Why does Feng still hire refugees for this perilous line?

Where were Feng’s martial artists and guards?

Preserving strength?

But Feng, mere Shun dynasty holdovers—why preserve?

Perhaps… refugee lives were simply too cheap.

En route, Xiangzi encountered Second Master Feng.

Second Master Feng personally escorted a massive caravan, grandly toward the fortress.

Unlike past warmth, this time Second Master Feng was quite cold.

Xiangzi spared few words, polite pleasantries then departure.

Presumably, Second Master Feng knew of Baolin Martial Hall’s forward camp.

All three halls had northward forward camps; only Baolin’s overrun by demons—great loss of prestige.

These “opportunistic” local snakes understood what it meant—Baolin lagged in the three halls’ contest.

Even Xiangzi, as Baolin training disciple, received lesser treatment.

Human hearts in this world—always trampling low, exalting high.

—

Second Master Feng’s shifting attitude reminded Xiangzi.

For rootless hall disciples like him, truly one glory all glory, one loss all loss with the hall.

If Baolin fell, aristocratic disciples could switch doors via tangled kin.

But as a key nurtured talent, he had no such chance—or even if shamelessly licking boots, others wouldn’t want him, likely breeding resentment.

Resources always limited… which martial artist didn’t fight with life?

How to share with an outsider?

Xiangzi unconsciously touched the rattan box behind, a smile rising.

Baolin Martial Hall couldn’t fall, or… where else such a stable growth haven?

Sweeping the snake den—truly bountiful harvest—a windfall fortune.

Then,

First, convert the precious minerals and scales in the rattan box into real combat power.

Second, help Baolin rebuild the transport line, easing the hall’s crisis—and incidentally open a wealth path for himself.

The martial path was paved with silver; especially his pill-guzzling physique—Wind Justice Courtyard allotments far insufficient.

At this, Xiangzi chuckled wryly: Half a lifetime as rickshaw puller; now a martial young master, still handling puller work.

But each trade has its mastery?

Pity Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s old brothers all perished in Li family mines.

Otherwise, wouldn’t transport line secured after one call?

Sighing, Xiangzi quickened pace.

Soon… Little Blue Garment Ridge gate.

Steam engines roared deafeningly.

Baolin-born Staff Officer Xu greeted him at the gate.

Perhaps hearing of Baolin’s forward camp, Staff Officer Xu’s face held gloom—for this rootless martial artist, Baolin was his greatest backer; hall decline would affect his marshal mansion prospects.

Before many soldiers, Xiangzi deliberately mentioned last night’s Deputy Master Chen thrashing the snake demon; Staff Officer Xu’s face lit with smiles.

The soldiers gaped, awed by the speaking Staff Officer Xu and Xiangzi.

Baolin formal disciples were few, but top combat power matched any, right?

Journey on, sun high.

Xiangzi finally spied familiar T-Shaped Bridge.

A familiar figure stood at the bridgehead.

Seeing Xiangzi afar, the figure approached.

Former apprentice classmate—West City Qi family’s young genius, Qi Ruiliang.

“Brother Li… long time no see, truly missed!”

“Brother Qi, why here? Wasn’t your training at East City’s Four Seas Gambling House?”

At this, Qi Ruiliang’s face dimmed: “Not just me—my old man came too.”

He pointed: “See, several uncles arrived.”

Xiangzi paused slightly—Clear Gang big shots all here?

Seeing Qi Ruiliang’s hesitant expression, a shadow passed Xiangzi’s heart.