Chapter Seventeen: Battle of the Warriors

Southeast corner of the town.

This was the Liu residence—spacious, with three courtyards in succession. Yang Fan, carrying the corpse, arrived here, pushing his “Earth Sense” ability to its limit. Within a hundred meters, and especially within ten, he could vaguely sense presences.

Within the residence, he detected several powerful clusters of blood energy, each like a miniature sun, the most intense of which was located in the main hall.

He restrained his own aura as much as possible.

“That should be Liu Kaiming, the magistrate’s younger cousin. Judging by his blood energy, he’s almost certainly a ninth-rank martial artist.”

As Yang Fan pondered this, his eyes lit up.

He sensed a mass of spiritual energy, thick and rich—it belonged to a spiritual object.

He suppressed the restless excitement in his heart.

Judging by their forms, he found two dogs as well. Cautiously approaching within ten meters, before they could cry out, he directly unleashed his “Intimidation” ability, knocking them out.

In the front courtyard, two people slept in the house to the left. Their blood energy wasn’t strong, their breathing steady—they were clearly asleep.

He also discovered a cellar.

Circling around, he paused, then hung several strips of Yang Tian’s clothing among the weeds by the roadside. Only then did he nimbly leap over the wall and land beside the cellar.

Examining the marks, he could tell the cellar hadn’t been used in a long while.

Which made sense—after all, it was September, and cellars weren’t needed at this time of year.

Carefully, he lifted the cover, dumped the corpse inside, erased any traces, and departed.

Once he was far from the Liu residence, Yang Fan finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“I wonder if this will be of any use?”

He stopped thinking about it and quickly hurried home.

There, he stripped off his clothes, shoved them under the stove, set them alight, then washed his short sword several times and took a cold bath before finally lying down to rest.

The next day, just after dawn, as the rooster crowed for the third time, Yang Fan rose from bed.

The morning air was especially fresh.

Light was already appearing on the eastern horizon.

After a quick wash, Yang Fan moved to the center of the courtyard and stood firm, recalling the method for practicing Wild Ox Fist.

This was both a training routine and a fighting style, comprising nine forms in total.

After some contemplation, he began to practice.

Within a few rounds, he was already proficient—enough to be considered an initiate.

Thanks to his patrol mission’s merit, his awakening progress had reached ten percent. Not only were his tendons and bones robust, his blood energy abundant, but his control over his body had also reached a certain level.

Practicing the Wild Ox Fist posed no difficulty.

As he moved through the forms, Yang Fan felt his major muscles stretch, his blood boil, and all his strength slowly meld into unity.

Feet rooted to the earth, thighs tensed like drawn bows, waist twisting to drive power from below upward, shoulders surging like tides, upper arms rotating elbows and wrists, all force erupting at the fist.

With a single punch, the air howled.

“My strength hasn’t increased in essence, but now, when I throw a punch, the force is several times greater than before!”

Feeling the power contained within the technique, Yang Fan was delighted.

Before, his punches relied on brute force, the efficiency of his strength pitifully low. Now, he could concentrate all his might into a single blow, making it naturally far more potent.

This was an improvement in efficiency.

“Now, with one punch, I could smash through an ordinary person’s chest!”

Yang Fan was filled with confidence.

He trained with even more vigor, his progress visible to the naked eye.

Bang, bang, bang…

“Yang Fan, are you up yet?”

A knock came at the door, and Da Hu’s voice called from outside.

“I’m up!” Yang Fan replied, opened the door, washed his face, and the two of them left together.

“When did you get home last night?” Da Hu asked. “Don’t tell me it was late again? Don’t wear yourself out!”

“It’s just mentally taxing, not exhausting. Da Hu, has the town chief been pressing you again?”

“No! But lately, a few vicious types have been hanging around here every day, obviously up to no good—it’s a threat. Damn it, I really want to take them all out. Once I become a full apprentice, I’ll find a way to get a technique book. When I’ve mastered it, I’ll wring that dog of a town chief’s neck. Traitor to the village, criminal against his own kin.”

After breakfast at the school, the two parted ways.

Yang Fan returned to memorizing herbs, focusing on their characteristics.

At lunch—

“Two people are missing today.” Da Hu, bowl in hand, sat down beside him and whispered, “Yang Xiang and Yang Tian. Apothecary Guan is furious—he went to tell Manager Wang. Heh, when those two show up this afternoon, they’re in for it.”

Yang Fan’s eyes flickered, a hint of anticipation rising.

In the afternoon, Manager Wang arrived, asking if anyone had seen Yang Xiang or Yang Tian after dinner yesterday, even questioning Yang Fan.

“No,” Yang Fan shook his head, replying, “Uncle Wang, what’s happened?”

“They’re both missing!” Manager Wang frowned. “Xiao Fan, if you’re going home tonight, leave right after dinner and don’t stay here late.”

“All right!” Yang Fan didn’t ask further.

The day passed quickly.

“In another two days, I’ll have memorized everything.”

In the dispensary, Yang Fan was very satisfied.

He closed the drawer, locked the door, greeted Apothecary Guan, and after dinner, left with Da Hu.

“No idea where those two got to,” Da Hu said, eyes gleaming with schadenfreude. “This morning, everyone thought they’d both gone home and just skipped today. But when their families were notified at noon with a stern warning, their parents said, ‘Aren’t they at the school?’ Turns out neither had come home at all. Once both sides realized, panic set in. Now the entire town’s searching—haven’t found so much as a hair.”

Yang Fan couldn’t help but laugh.

Yang Xiang likely didn’t even leave a hair behind.

But Yang Tian was still safe and sound.

Out on the street, he saw the town chief’s family still asking around everywhere, and the people from Taifeng Restaurant were all out searching too.

On the rooftop of Taifeng Restaurant, he spotted a middle-aged man standing, knife in hand, as if he might split the town in two at any moment.

A murderous aura radiated from him.

“Yang Tai!”

Yang Fan glanced at him once and paid no further attention.

Back home, he continued his cultivation.

He immersed himself in it, his blood energy circulating with his fist technique, all his strength gradually fusing into one.

His progress far exceeded his expectations.

He tried using his essence to enhance himself, but it was impossible, so he simply continued training.

A misty aura even rose above his head.

Occasionally using Earth Sense to check himself, he noticed the red glow in his body was no weaker than a ninth-rank martial artist’s, and it was rapidly merging into a single source.

Yet he still hadn’t encountered the martial barrier.

The night grew darker.

Clouds still shrouded the moon—the weather was poor.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside. Yang Fan knew it was Da Hu and immediately stopped. Sure enough, moments later, there was a knock at the door.

Bang, bang, bang…

“Yang Fan, something big has happened—open up!” Da Hu called.

Wiping his face, Yang Fan opened the door to see Da Hu, face flushed with excitement. “They’ve found him—they found him! Come on, let’s go have a look.”

“Found who?” Yang Fan asked as he pulled on his jacket, slid the short sword into his belt, and stepped outside.

“Yang Tian, they found Yang Tian.” Da Hu’s eyes sparkled. “Guess what? They found a corpse. And guess where?”

“How would I know? I was home all day,” Yang Fan replied, exasperated.

“Heh, in the Liu residence—the very place that wants to bulldoze our neighborhood!” Da Hu gestured animatedly. “Damn, who’d have thought the Liu family was so ruthless, killing the young master of Taifeng Restaurant.”

Da Hu had always been well informed.

As he spoke, Yang Fan pieced together the story.

Taifeng Restaurant and the town chief had joined forces in their search, scouring the town several times, even venturing beyond the town’s edge and up to the foothills of Cloud Mist Mountain, but found nothing.

Then, a hound from Taifeng Restaurant picked up a scent outside the Liu residence—remnants of Yang Tian’s clothing. Following the trail, they discovered the body in the Liu family’s cellar.

“Just now, Yang Tai led his men to attack the Liu residence—he’s determined to exterminate them!” Da Hu exclaimed. “After all, Yang Tai only had one son, whom he treasured. And Yang Chun has also gone to the Liu residence, demanding his own son be returned. Ha! What a spectacle—dogs biting dogs, both doomed!”

On the street, Yang Fan saw crowds rushing eastward—the commotion had drawn many spectators.

“Xiao Fan, you two be careful—don’t get too close!” Lin Dashan warned when he saw them.

Xiao Yu and Erni wanted to go too, but Da Hu’s mother fixed them with a glare, and they dared not take a step.

As for the boys? They were expected to see the world.

Outside the Liu residence, many torches were already burning.

When Yang Fan and Da Hu arrived, Yang Tai was locked in combat with a fat man—none other than Liu Kaiming.

Both wielded long knives.

When the blades fell, even the air seemed to split.

A single stomp sent dirt flying, a pebble shooting out to pierce the arm of a bystander.

“So powerful!” Da Hu watched in awe. “If I had that kind of strength, I’d never fear that dog Yang Chun again!”

Yang Fan narrowed his eyes.

He saw that while their knife techniques were exquisite, their strength seemed no greater than his own.

“I’ll have to find a chance to test myself against them,” Yang Fan thought, quietly slipping away into the darkness.