Morning mist cloaked Forty-Nine City.

By now, third-class rickshaw pullers had paid their dues and taken their carts out for work; second-class pullers were already on the mining route.

But Harmony Rickshaw Yard buzzed with an unusual energy.

The green-lacquered gates were shut tight, hiding the scene within. Only the clanging of iron weapons echoed out.

Nosy idlers who edged toward the gate were promptly chased off by the guards.

In the front courtyard stood over a dozen unfamiliar men, each with steady steps and robust qi and blood.

Despite carrying heavy iron weapons, they moved with ease, looking even tougher than the East Tower guards.

These experts seemed to sprout from the ground, appearing suddenly in Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s front courtyard.

Heavy long weapons rested on the ground.

Besides spears, there were lances and halberds.

Old-fashioned, clunky weapons, unremarkable at first glance, but their glossy wooden handles betrayed meticulous care.

To the discerning eye, these plain blades held secrets—faint golden veins shimmered on their edges.

Those veins, as if forged by heaven, glowed faintly in the morning light.

In the days before firearms, such weapons, infused with five-colored gold ore dust, were strictly banned by any dynasty’s court as deadly instruments.

In the front courtyard, inside the spacious meeting room, Fourth Master Liu’s four adopted sons gathered.

Fresh bean juice and crispy dough rings sat on the table, largely untouched.

Only the eldest, Liu Quan, ate with gusto, sandwiching a dough ring in a horseshoe pastry, alternating bites with sips of bean juice.

Today’s scene signaled a major move by Fourth Master, but Liu Quan, long retired from the yard’s core affairs and managing only third-class pullers, didn’t care much.

The other adopted sons harbored their own thoughts.

Liu Yi, still shaken, whispered incessantly to Liu Quan, trying to figure out what was happening.

Liu Hu’s face was calm, but his eyes betrayed unease.

Liu Tang frowned, unsettled by the unfamiliar faces in the courtyard.

After a long wait, Liu Tang spoke first. “Girl Hu, when’s Fourth Master coming? Xiangzi and the others are already out, and the mining route’s been shaky lately. I’m worried.”

He stared at Girl Hu’s dark face, his voice low.

Girl Hu squinted, smiling. “Soon, soon.”

Similar exchanges had looped several times, but this was Liu Tang’s first mention of the mining route.

The other adopted sons froze.

Even Liu Quan’s hand, holding a dough ring, paused.

He pinched one with his chubby thumb and forefinger, offering it to Liu Tang. “Little Tang, don’t rush, young man. These dough rings are crisp and authentic—try one.”

“Thanks, Brother Quan,” Liu Tang said, his smile forced.

As a boy, when Liu Tang returned from Baolin Martial Hall, Liu Quan, then in his prime and overseeing the mining route, always brought him rare street snacks.

Among those in the room, even counting Girl Hu, Liu Tang only gave face to “Brother Quan.”

He took the dough ring and swallowed it stiffly.

It tasted like wax.

Time dragged until the sun rose.

Finally, Fourth Master Liu arrived.

He wore a rare black martial outfit, looking spirited. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said with a smile, taking the head seat.

The four adopted sons stood, clasping fists in unison. “Fourth Master, blessings!”

As they sat, Fourth Master’s tiger-like eyes scanned the room, landing on Liu Tang. “The yard’s been busy lately. You’ve all worked hard, especially Liu Tang—you’ve carried a lot.”

“It’s my duty to serve you,” Liu Tang said, clasping his fists, then pressed, “Fourth Master, who are those strangers in the courtyard?”

Fourth Master paused, caught off guard by the directness.

Looking at the face resembling an old friend, his eyes softened with nostalgia. “Tang, after all these years of tempering, you’re still so brash, just like my old sworn brother.”

“If he knew from the grave that his son’s now a ninth-grade adept, with his fiery temper, he’d probably kick through his coffin in joy!”

The adopted sons were stunned—Liu Tang was a ninth-grade adept?

Hearing his late father mentioned, Liu Tang’s eyes flickered.

“Back then, your father and I were just second-class pullers. We could’ve lived on three corn buns a day, but that old hag skimped us one. Young and hotheaded, we grabbed a cleaver and hacked her down.”

“Great Shun Dynasty hadn’t fallen yet. Forty-Nine City was full of nobles on white horses, toting birdcages. We had nowhere to run, so we joined the Li Family’s mining camp outside the city.”

“It was a desperate life, but at least we got full bellies.”

“Against all odds, we caught the old Li Family mine master’s eye and clawed our way up.”

Fourth Master spoke slowly, deliberately.

Forty-Nine City had an old saying: Live long or not, it depends on sixty-nine.

This year, Fourth Master Liu turned sixty-nine.

He’d held the Clearwind Street boss’s seat so long that the old-timers who knew his roots were gone.

Lately, rumors about how he rose in Forty-Nine City grew wilder.

Of the adopted sons, only Liu Quan, in his forties, had heard these stories before.

“Leaving the mines, your father and I swore to make something of ourselves in Forty-Nine City!”

“But he died too soon. We’d just seized Clearwind Street when he passed, leaving you, a mere babe.”

“I failed him. He helped me build this yard in our youth, and now, old as I am, I lean on his son to hold it together. Shame on me!”

“Maybe he’s cursing me from his coffin.”

His voice thick with emotion, even this hardened man’s eyes glistened.

Liu Tang’s eyes reddened, but he clasped his fists. “Fourth Master, you raised me, nurtured me—I can never repay that debt!”

Fourth Master’s gaze softened. “Tang… remember, your father was He Minghui. Your name shouldn’t be Liu Tang—it should be He Tang!”

Standing from his grand chair, he said, “You’re a ninth-grade adept now. No matter how rotten I am, I won’t hold you back. After today, return to Baolin Martial Hall.”

“Don’t worry about the elixirs’ cost. This yard owes your father his share!”

“Tang, call the remaining East Tower brothers. It’s time to work.”

Liu Tang sat stunned, dazed.

His ninth-grade status had been a knot in his heart, and now Fourth Master had addressed it.

Before he could process it, his brow furrowed. “Fourth Master… where are we going?”

Fourth Master’s smile turned fierce, his tiger eyes glinting with ruthlessness. “Today’s the day. We’re taking Ma Liu’s wretched life!”