At the mining camp gate, two teams of Li Family guards surged forward, surrounding Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s pullers with menacing intent.

The pullers froze, their eyes snapping to Xiangzi.

Li Gui stepped forward, squinting with a smile, clasping his hands. “We checked the camp and still couldn’t find that high-grade beast bone.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Brother Xiangzi!”

His words were polite, but his tone was firm—a high-grade beast bone was a massive deal in the Li Family mines.

The pullers looked to Xiangzi.

After a moment’s hesitation, Xiangzi raised a hand.

The pullers set down their rickshaws.

Xiangzi flashed a warm smile. “Of course. How can we assist?”

Li Gui relaxed—things were going smoother than expected.

“Per the rules, we need to check each person individually in the hut. Everyone gets searched.”

Xiangzi’s brow twitched faintly. Searched?

“What about our ore, Master Gui?”

“No worries, it stays here. If all’s clear, it’ll be returned untouched.”

“Alright.”

Xiangzi agreed readily, even unstrapping his short spear, easing Li Gui’s mind further.

The martial artist replacing Chen Fan stepped forward, smiling and clasping his fist. “Brother Xiangzi, duty calls. No offense intended.”

“No offense taken, Master Liang. We run this route, we follow Li Family rules,” Xiangzi said, his smile unreadable.

“Then, Brother Xiangzi, this way!”

Liang Hua waved, and two blue-clad guards stepped forward to lead Xiangzi.

The forty-odd pullers were split into groups, each watched by Li Family guards.

The guards outnumbered the pullers.

Xiangzi paused, then chuckled. “Master Liang, quite the setup. Is this the usual routine?”

Seeing Xiangzi’s pause, Liang Hua’s face tightened, his hand darting to his waist saber.

Xiangzi’s smile held, betraying no emotion.

As if to cover his tension, Liang Hua’s fingers brushed his saber, his smile forced. “Brother Xiangzi, I think this is the usual way. Never handled this before!”

To reassure Xiangzi, Liang Hua took the lead. “The hut area’s just ahead.”

Xiangzi nodded, seeming to understand.

But his heart sank—Liang Hua was lying.

On the way, Liang Hua had said he’d worked this route for over three years.

If he didn’t know the rules, how could he know the hut area and lead the way?

Recalling Liang Hua’s odd move earlier, Xiangzi’s eyes narrowed, but he waved to Uncle Jie in the distance. “Uncle Jie, when we’re done, don’t forget to drag Skinny Monkey for some zheluo rice.”

Uncle Jie, in another group, froze, then his brows shot up like unsheathed blades.

Skinny Monkey was long gone—how could he eat zheluo rice?

Liang Hua led, Xiangzi followed, with two Li Family guards trailing.

The further from the camp, the denser the forest grew, faint light filtering through towering trees.

Golden ore dust flickered in the air.

None wore masks. Xiangzi noted Liang Hua’s steady breathing, while the two guards behind were already panting slightly.

In an instant, Xiangzi had his measure.

He still couldn’t believe it—would the Li Family dare set an ambush in broad daylight?

This was a team of over forty pullers, including a dozen who’d broken the blood energy barrier!

The Li Family and Harmony Rickshaw Yard had cooperated smoothly for decades.

The mining route, tied to the embassy district’s big shots, was untouchable.

Even that ninth-grade bandit Zhang Dachui had been cautious when raiding the route, fearing leaks.

Xiangzi had always been wary of Li Gui since the Jin Fugui affair.

But this setup—could a mere overseer pull it off?

If it was the Li Family’s higher-ups, what was their goal?

Even cautious Xiangzi began to doubt. Was he overthinking?

Or was he their sole target from the start?

Why else separate him from the others?

Could Liang Hua and Li Gui be conspiring to take him out?

Countless thoughts raced through Xiangzi’s mind.

Instinct screamed to strike first.

But that would give them leverage—no way to explain it.

Amid the chaos of his thoughts, Xiangzi’s right hand silently reached for his chest.

Suddenly, his view opened up.

A crude wooden hut stood, surrounded by old trees.

In the dappled light, Liang Hua’s smile flickered as he pointed. “Brother Xiangzi, that’s the hut. Please.”

“Li Family’s got many rules—hope you don’t mind.”

Xiangzi nodded. “No problem. But… where are my brothers? I don’t see them.”

Liang Hua faltered, then laughed. “Probably over there.”

Xiangzi stayed silent, his face unreadable.

A blue-clad guard stepped forward, pulling out a copper key.

With a grating creak, the hut door opened.

Liang Hua clasped his fist. “Brother Xiangzi, please.”

Xiangzi nodded, scanning the scene.

Liang Hua was alone; the two guards stood a few steps away at the door.

If they meant to ambush him, this was their only chance.

Xiangzi couldn’t hesitate.

He’d heard a saying in his past life: Never fear assuming the worst of your enemy.

His gaze darted past Liang Hua into the deep forest, and he shouted, “Uncle Jie, why are you here

?”

Liang Hua spun around in shock, his hand gripping his saber.

But all he saw were sparse trees—no one.

In that instant, he knew he’d slipped.

He couldn’t pinpoint where he’d erred.

But Li Gui had been clear—Xiangzi must die.

That’s why Liang Hua had sent others away, bringing only two trusted men. If Xiangzi died, he’d claim the top merit. Li Gui promised the Li Family’s young master would personally grant a beast bone!

The bone itself wasn’t the prize. As a ranked martial artist, Liang Hua wasn’t so shallow as to risk everything for it.

But the young master of the Li Family—a connection he’d never touched!

Climbing that ladder would secure his place in the Li Family.

So, Li Gui’s few words had swayed him.

The stakes were high, but the risk low—just a rickshaw puller.

A ninth-grade entry-level martial artist, with two allies, against a newbie who’d barely broken the qi-and-blood barrier? Easy.

The moment he turned, Liang Hua knew he’d been exposed.

“Move!”

Before turning back, his eyes flashed with ferocity, his shout ringing out.

His saber unsheathed with a clang.

Twisting, he slashed horizontally, a cold arc of steel cutting through the air—a move from the Shadowless Blade’s “Twist and Spin,” where the body pivots and the blade follows.

Liang Hua unleashed his deadliest technique.

But the slash hit air—the young puller had been ready.

The blade struck first, then Liang Hua turned.

Seeing the big puller reach into his jacket a few steps away, Liang Hua’s eyes narrowed.

He stared at Xiangzi.

Xiangzi stared back.

Whoosh!

A cloud of gray-black powder exploded upward, aimed at Liang Hua’s face.

Last time, Xiangzi had used this trick to kill Ma Liu’s skinny lackey. Since then, he’d made a habit of carrying it.

Back then, it was lime.

Now, it was five-colored ore dust.