Chapter Eighteen: Breakthrough—The First Gate of Potential

Outside, a fierce battle raged, leaving the house deserted within. Activating his sense of the earth, Yang Fan easily slipped into the residence, striding boldly into a room.

This was Liu Kaiming’s bedroom.

A bed, a bookshelf, and a writing desk. On the bookshelf sat several boxes. Yang Fan took one, opened it, and found inside a medicinal herb—a spiritual plant.

It exuded a faint, fishy odor.

[Heavenly Yin Serpent Grass]: Grows in places of extreme yin, frequented by venomous snakes. It feeds on snake saliva, nourished by yin energy, and utilizes poison as its means. For years it emits a subtle, foul stench, repelling insects and beasts. Inherently poisonous, inhaling its scent causes dizziness, consuming it results in full-body rot from poisoning. Yet, for those suffering snake venom, it can counteract poison with poison to miraculous effect. It is also a superior auxiliary ingredient for concocting antidotes to snake venom, containing 2.2 units of vital energy.

After a brief hesitation, Yang Fan used his "Vitality Absorption" ability to draw out the plant’s energy.

[Vital Energy: +2.2]

His total now reached as much as five points. Replacing the box, Yang Fan moved to the bedside, retrieved a stack of silver notes from beneath the pillow—eight hundred-tael notes in all.

Even he could not help but breathe a little faster. He tucked them into his robe and headed out, but upon seeing the candles still burning in the parlor, he had a sudden idea, hastily returned, and tossed the candle atop the bed.

When he left, a red glow had already risen within the bedroom.

He vaulted over the wall, not seeking out Big Tiger, but melting into the darkness instead.

“Fire! There’s a fire!”

Before long, someone shouted the alarm. Yet outside, the fighting still raged; few came to battle the flames, and the townsfolk merely looked on coldly. Even the town head, Yang Chun, watched the growing blaze with a snort.

Soon, Yang Fan arrived behind the Taifeng Tavern, a courtyard that served as Yang Tai’s residence. Two women were busy with housework inside.

Sensing carefully, he detected a hidden chamber behind the bookshelf in the bedroom. At that moment, someone was rifling through it. Another person waited behind the door.

Though the images were vague, he could judge that these two, with blood and energy nearly as strong as Yang Tai’s, were clearly ninth-rank martial artists themselves.

Within the secret room, two luminous auras shone—spiritual objects, and precisely his target tonight.

He had intended to seize them while Yang Tai was away, but someone had acted first.

Just as he prepared to leave, he sensed one of the women heading into the main building, seemingly to tidy up. Upon entering, she was silently killed by the person lurking in the shadows.

Without hesitation, the killer emerged and dispatched the other woman as well, tossing both corpses into the hidden chamber.

“Ruthless,” Yang Fan’s pupils contracted, and he shrank into the shadows.

Moments later, the two martial artists dashed from the courtyard, vaulting the wall with large bundles on their backs, stuffed with loot.

“Intimidation!”

The instant they landed, Yang Fan struck without hesitation.

In truth, when others got there first, he’d thought to leave. But sensing bloodshed stirred something within him—his blood boiled.

A formless wave struck the pair’s minds, making them pause and shudder.

With a flash, Yang Fan drew his dagger.

His expression twisted with savagery; he drove the blade into the ear of the nearest man, piercing straight through to the brain.

Unconsciously, he had grown more ruthless.

He withdrew the dagger, about to finish the second, only to find the other had forcibly suppressed his terror at the "Intimidation," turning to see his companion slain.

Though gripped by inexplicable fear and trembling, the survivor gritted his teeth, drew a knife, and lunged.

Yang Fan’s pupils shrank.

A thought flashed through his mind; he retracted his technique, then unleashed it again.

The ebb and surge of power created a terrifying shock, sending the man into another fit of shuddering terror, robbing him of control over his own body.

With a step forward, Yang Fan slashed the man’s throat with his dagger; blood spurted in an arc.

Dodging aside, he swiftly snatched the two bundles, found the two spiritual items without even glancing at them, and stuffed them into his robe. He also took two ledgers and a bundle of silver notes, ignoring the rest of the gold and jewels, and slipped away.

Darkness reigned, hushed and silent.

After some time, a scream echoed in the alley, drawing a crowd.

Elsewhere, Yang Fan slipped silently home, stashed his spoils, disposed of his bloodied garments, bathed, then put on his last clean outfit and sat quietly in the courtyard.

His surging blood energy gradually settled.

“I seem to be getting used to killing,” he thought, spreading his palm before his eyes.

In retrospect, how many days had it been since his transmigration? Already he had killed several people in succession—it felt almost unbelievable.

Perhaps some inner demon had been unleashed, for he felt no sense of revulsion.

“I must not indulge this,” he cautioned himself. “If no one harms me, I won’t harm them. If others do me wrong, then I’ll strike back without mercy!”

Yang Fan set his own bottom line.

He began to ponder the events of the night, especially how, when fighting the two martial artists, the second had broken free of his "Intimidation" so quickly.

“Is it because martial artists possess stronger wills? Or is my fate power not awakened enough?” The thought circled in his mind.

A restless energy lingered within him, difficult to wholly suppress. He stood and began practicing the Wild Ox Fist.

The ox’s horns pierce the sky, its hooves trample the mountain...

Each stance flowed more smoothly than before; faintly, he felt as though he was becoming one with a wild ox, exuding an aura of brute force.

With cultivation, his blood surged and boiled within.

His strength was becoming unified, harmonious.

Yang Fan sensed a bottleneck—a threshold for entering the ranks of martial artists. It was as tall as a mountain, as perilous as an abyss, nearly insurmountable. Yet he sensed that, if he broke through, shattered his shackles, and ripped apart his bonds, he would unleash immense potential, and undergo a dramatic transformation.

He ignored the bottleneck and pressed on.

A hum resonated inside him; a hidden power trembled, exultant.

“Fate power?” Yang Fan felt a sudden insight, but paid it no mind, immersing himself in the Wild Ox Fist.

His blood energy boiled and rapidly condensed, undergoing a qualitative change under the influence of that mysterious inner force.

Blood energy was strength itself.

Normally formless and intangible—a mere concept—yet now it solidified within him, coalescing into a sphere.

For the first time, it became tangible.

In that instant, the invisible shackles broke, and the first gate of human potential was opened, without effort or resistance. Easily, he crossed the threshold.

At the same time, his dormant potential was released, flooding his body. The sensation was familiar—it was the feeling he experienced whenever his "Mountain Patroler’s Fate" awakened.

Only this time, it was far more intense.

Inside and out, it refined his body, strengthening him in every aspect—his power surged, his constitution toughened, his senses sharpened.

His skin grew more resilient, muscles denser, bones sturdier, even his internal organs were reinforced.

“I never imagined that breaking through the bottleneck and becoming a martial artist would bring such benefits.

“The human body truly contains infinite mysteries!”

In time, his blood energy subsided and Yang Fan ceased his practice.

Then, outside, he heard hurried, familiar footsteps approaching, stopping at his door. As the knocking sounded, Big Tiger’s voice rang out, “Yang Fan, are you home?”

“I’m here!” Yang Fan calmed himself and opened the door, speaking first: “You just got back? Pah, the fighting was too far off, so I went for a closer look. But then a fire broke out, and I couldn’t find you anywhere, so I figured you’d left early and I came home. Big Tiger, how did things go over there?”

“So long as you’re all right!” Big Tiger entered, “When the fire started and you weren’t by my side, I was scared to death. I searched everywhere for you, but couldn’t find a trace. Figured you’d be fine, so I stuck around to enjoy the spectacle. Watching that fire burn—ha! You can’t imagine, I was so happy I nearly burst out laughing. For the Liu family to end up like that—must be divine retribution. I was worried the fire might spread, so a few of us took some simple precautions before I hurried back.”

“There’s a gap between the Liu residence and the Xiaoming family next door; it shouldn’t spread, right?”

“Can’t be too careful! Luckily, it was far enough that no one tried to put it out. The Lius were so hated, everyone just watched their home burn. You don’t know—ha! So many people were as thrilled as I was, wanting to jump for joy. It was just too damned satisfying.”

“People reap what they sow; heaven is watching. Do enough evil, and even the gods can’t stand it. Big Tiger, who won, Liu Kaiming or Yang Tai?”

“Liu Kaiming was cut down—split clean in two like a fat pig. It was brutal. I tell you, that sight made me shudder all over.”

“Liu Kaiming actually died?”

“Yeah! With him gone, we should be safe now. That’s enough talk for tonight—I’m off to bed. Ha! I’m sure I’ll have a good dream tonight.”

Big Tiger left, grinning from ear to ear.

Yang Fan stood silent for a while, then returned to his room and took out the two spiritual objects he’d acquired.