From the fusion of Tongbei Quan to the Longevity Martial Saint

Gu Changyuan gave the order, and at the same time, he spread out a new sheet of snow-white Xuan paper, picked up the wolf-hair brush, and dipped it in thick ink.

His handwriting flowed like dragons and snakes, powerful and elegant, as he clearly and logically wrote down Fang Qing's situation, potential assessment, and his request for Lord Lin to grant him a special place in the martial arts examination. For ordinary salt merchants or even local tycoons, a single spot in the martial arts examination might require them to exhaust their wealth and connections to compete for, but for Lord Lin, the Salt Inspector who held immense power over several salt administrations and enjoyed the deep trust of the court, adding a name to the final list of candidates might truly be a matter of a single word.

However, what Gu Changyuan needed was this guarantee of "one sentence," and to ensure that nothing went wrong, he had to ask Lord Lin, this true god, to personally implement it.

Soon, the Iron Guard delivered two magnificent black carrier pigeons into the tent.

Gu Changyuan carefully rolled the written letter into a small paper roll, stuffed it into a specially made waterproof bamboo tube, and firmly tied it to the silver ring on the leg of the carrier pigeon.

He stepped outside the tent, raised his hands, and two black-feathered carrier pigeons took flight. After circling briefly in the night sky, they shot off like two black lightning bolts towards Yangzhou, disappearing into the depths of the vast night in an instant.

After watching the carrier pigeon disappear, Gu Changyuan returned to his tent and paced back and forth in the not-so-spacious space with his hands behind his back.

Although the arrangements had been made, the excitement in my heart lingered for a long time.

He was determined to acquire Fang Qing, this gem! This was not only about whether the Salt Patrol Guard could gain a powerful general in the future, but it could also affect his plans and strategies in Yancheng and even a wider area.

……

The Salt Patrol Guard Reserve Camp was not located in the bustling city of Yancheng, but was hidden deep in a remote mountain forest within the jurisdiction of the Five Cities Military Command.

Surrounded by high walls and heavily guarded, with only a winding mountain path leading to the outside world, the environment is serene and secluded.

Fang Qing's luggage was very simple, consisting of a few changes of clothes and some personal items.

He followed the soldier who was leading the way, stepped through the heavy vermilion gate, and officially entered this legendary reserve camp.

Upon entering to the right, the first thing that catches the eye is a majestic archway, two zhang high, painted entirely in vermilion lacquer.

The archway has wide eaves to shelter it from the wind and rain, and below it are rows of names engraved with vigorous strokes, arranged from top to bottom, with simple information noted after each name.

It was the "Internal Strength Ranking of the Salt Patrol Guard Reserve Camp" that Fang Chulan had mentioned to him.

Fang Qing stopped and looked up, his gaze sweeping down from top to bottom.

The name at the top of the list was none other than Chu Xiao. Although there were few other names listed after him, they still exuded a commanding presence.

Looking down, most of the names were completely unfamiliar to him, until his gaze fell on the thirtieth line:

30th place: Mad Thirteen.

The name carries an overwhelming sense of arrogance and unruliness.

Fang Qing's gaze continued downwards, and at the very bottom of the list, in the ninety-ninth row, he finally saw his own information:

Ranked 99th: Fang Qing, pending.

The word "pending" seems to imply that he has not yet been approved.

Just as Fang Qing was about to look away, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a black figure standing silently about three zhang in front of the archway!

This person seemed to have been standing there the whole time, blending seamlessly with the shadows and the archway, so much so that Fang Qing hadn't noticed him at all while he was focused on looking at the list!

A warning bell rang in Fang Qing's mind, and his eyebrows furrowed instantly.

The figure gave him an extremely dangerous feeling, like a venomous snake lurking in the grass, waiting to ambush its prey. Though it had not yet made a move, it already exuded a chilling aura.

What alarmed him even more was that, with his current level of perception, he had failed to detect this person's presence beforehand!

He subtly manipulated his inner energy, quietly sensing the fluctuations in the other person's aura.

A moment later, a slight chill ran through him.

This person's blood and qi surged like a river, and his inner energy was far more refined than Fang Chulan's. The oppressive feeling he exuded was something that someone at the fifth level of Body Tempering could not possess. He had probably already stepped into the sixth level of Body Tempering, or even higher!

Fang Qing quickly withdrew his probing intent to avoid provoking unnecessary hostility from the other party.

However, just as he turned his gaze away, the man dressed in black, with slightly messy long hair and a face as thin as if carved by a knife, slowly turned his head, his sharp, hawk-like eyes locking onto Fang Qing.

"New here?"

The man's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a metallic quality, cutting through the air, "Judging from your unfamiliar face and eyes... you should be Fang Qing, right?"

Before Fang Qing could answer, Kuang Shisan turned back and looked at the ranking list again, as if it were just a casual question.

With his back to Fang Qing, he continued:

"Those newly entering the preparatory camp have a one-hour grace period. During this time, no one will attack you. After one hour..."

He paused, a hint of cruel mockery in his voice, "The camp will set up a special betting pool just for you."

Betting odds?

Fang Qing frowned even more deeply.

This term is usually closely related to gambling, whether it's betting on flower shows, cockfighting, dog racing, or the more secretive underground boxing matches, it's always about betting on profits.

Why would the Salt Patrol Guard Preparatory Camp set up a special betting pool for a newcomer?

"Kid, cherish this hour." Kuang Shisan's voice came again, calm yet undeniably cruel.

"Because you will soon experience firsthand what the rules of the Salt Patrol Reserve Camp are like. The cruelty here will far exceed your imagination."

The words had barely left his mouth when a sudden change occurred!

The figure of Kuang Shisan, who had been standing still like a statue, suddenly blurred without warning!

A faint, fading black afterimage was even left behind!

The next instant, Fang Qing felt a gust of wind whistling past his ears, and Kuang Shisan's true form appeared like a ghost dozens of steps away, next to the brick and stone buildings that seemed to be the campers' living area, right next to the ranking archway.

"BOOM!!!"

A deep, thunderous roar suddenly exploded, making people's eardrums buzz!

Kuang Shisan seemingly casually threw a punch, which slammed hard into a thick blue brick wall!

In an instant, the bricks and stones shattered, dust filled the air, and a hole the size of a washbasin appeared on the wall with radiating cracks around its edges!

Broken bricks and rubble fell down in a flurry.

"Cough cough... Holy crap! Kurumi, what the hell are you doing now?!"

An angry voice, mixed with coughing and cursing, came from the room behind the hole.

Immediately afterwards, a slightly disheveled figure emerged from the doorway next to the hole, wiping dust and gravel from his head and shoulders while cursing.

This man was of medium height and had an ordinary appearance, but at this moment he was covered in dust and dirt, his once neat hair was disheveled, and his robes were covered in white dust.

He glanced at the hole in the glass, pointed at the leisurely Kuang Shisan a few steps away, and cursed:

"Crazy Thirteen! You're ranked thirtieth, and I'm ranked ninety-eighth! Today, the camp set the odds for us at one to one point, not one to one. If we win, we only get one big piece, not even a tael of silver! Is it worth coming here so early in the morning to smash my wall for such pathetic odds?"

"What the hell does this wall have to do with you?!"

Kuang Shisan ignored the angry curses and didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.

Instead, he turned his head again to look at Fang Qing, who was still standing under the archway in the distance and had witnessed the whole process, his tone as calm as if he were giving a demonstration:

"Do you understand now? In the Salt Patrol Guard Reserve Camp, everyone has a corresponding 'diploma'."

"Your ranking, your wins and losses, and even whether you get injured or what your condition is each day will affect the odds."

"Entering here means you've automatically joined this endless gamble."

"What you need to be wary of is not just ranking challenges, but also surprise attacks and greetings from anyone, anytime, anywhere."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the residential area, seemingly making a pointed remark:

"Only when you successfully stay here for a full month and the 'pending' status after your name disappears will you be truly recognized and become one of the camp's own people."

"Otherwise, we could be eliminated at any time, or... worse."

After saying that, he ignored the ninety-eighth man named "Zhanbo" who was still jumping up and down cursing, and his figure flashed again.

This time, Fang Qing could see it a little more clearly. Kuang Shisan's movement was not a simple straight-line dash, but rather carried a strange arc and afterimages, as if it had merged into the shadows, and disappeared in the blink of an eye at the corner of the rows of houses.

Only the echo of his last words remained, lingering in the cool morning air:

"Boy, I'll be back for you in an hour..."

"By then, your odds should be in... Enjoy this hour free from injury..."

……