Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

The information about martial arts techniques and secret medicines held by the imperial court held less appeal for him than the corpses.

Lin Feng needed a corpse, but it wasn't easy to find one without entering this circle.

After pondering for a moment, Lin Feng was puzzled again. Jiang Hu had never seen him make a move, so why was he so certain that his strength was no less than Yuan Chun's?

Even before he arrived at the martial arts school, Jiang Hu gave him a spot to participate in the martial arts examination.

That doesn't make sense.

I have a feeling something's wrong here; something unusual must be going on.

So Lin Feng said, "Participating in the martial arts examination is not entirely out of the question."

Jiang Hu smiled and said, "This is the right way."

Any young person with the opportunity and qualifications would be willing to give up such a path to success.

On behalf of Black Tiger Martial Arts School, I formally recommend you to participate in this martial arts competition.

Lin Feng thought of the other disciples in the martial arts school and asked, "I have only been here for a short time and have not yet made any progress, yet I have taken up a precious spot. I'm afraid the other senior and junior brothers in the school will have objections."

Jiang Hu waved his hand and said decisively, "In the world of martial arts, strength is paramount; everything else is meaningless."

I believe you have the ability, and this spot should be yours.

If anyone disagrees, let him come find me, or let him come find you for a duel.

"Alright, I understand. I will consider it carefully." Lin Feng did not agree immediately, leaving room for maneuver.

With the business seemingly concluded, the atmosphere in the hall relaxed slightly.

Jiang Hu suddenly changed the subject, asking casually, "Lin Feng, during your time at the charity hall, how much do you know about Yang Laowu, who's in charge of collecting corpses there?"

Yang Laowu?

Lin Feng immediately pictured the old man who was always hunched over, slovenly, and taciturn, quietly working in the corner of the charity hall.

"I didn't have much contact with Yang Laowu. I only know that he was responsible for cleaning, tidying up and sewing up the corpses. He was a man of few words."

I heard he used to be a homeless beggar? Why did you suddenly ask about him, Master?

Jiang Hu carefully observed Lin Feng's expression and saw that he only had pure doubt in his eyes, without any guilt or strangeness. He nodded to himself inwardly, but remained expressionless on the surface.

Lin Feng still noticed Jiang Hu's actions.

Lin Feng suddenly realized that this was what they were waiting for.

I made so many dumplings just for this taste of vinegar.

All this buildup was just to ask Yang Laowu.

Who is this Yang Laowu? Why is he making Jiang Hu so nervous?

Was he transferred from the charity hall because of Yang Laowu?

Seemingly noticing Lin Feng's confusion, Jiang Hu explained, "Back then, seeing that he was all alone and helpless, we took him in at the charity hall, gave him food, and provided him with a place to stay."

"Alright, if there's nothing else, you can go now."

Lin Feng cupped his hands in a respectful gesture and said, "This disciple takes his leave."

He turned to leave, but after taking two steps, he suddenly remembered something, stopped, and turned back to ask, "Oh, by the way, Master, how do we eliminate or suppress the 'killing aura' or 'bloody aura' you mentioned earlier?"

Oh, of course, I was just a little curious.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Hu stroked his short beard and pondered, "Elimination? Everyone has their own method."

Some people find solace in nature and tranquility through reading;

Some people go to brothels and indulge in wine, women, and pleasure in order to numb themselves.

Some people listen to traditional Chinese string and wind instruments to cultivate their temperament.

Ultimately, it's about finding a way to calm yourself down and soothe the restlessness, anger, or "thoughts" arising from killing.

When the mind is calm, the spirit naturally subsides, and the "power" on the face will also fade. Of course..." He glanced at Lin Feng, "there is an even more fundamental method."

"What method?" Lin Feng pressed.

"When your level of understanding reaches a sufficient height, and your perspective and state of mind are completely different, you will naturally not be able to tell the difference," Jiang Hu said calmly.

"Why is that?" Lin Feng asked, puzzled.

Jiang Hu used a simple analogy: "Do you feel anything when you step on an ant?"

Will we be affected by the killing?

Lin Feng shook his head: "No."

"That's it. When you're powerful enough, these ordinary people are nothing but ants."

What was once considered a major event—killing—may now seem insignificant.

Emotions that once needed to be deliberately suppressed have now become insignificant.

At that time, it wasn't that you restrained your murderous intent, but rather that your "existence" itself had transcended that level.

Things at a lower level are unlikely to leave a noticeable "mark" on you, and naturally, they are also difficult for people at the same or even lower level to perceive.

Lin Feng seemed to understand something; the analogy was straightforward and easy to understand. "I see, thank you for your explanation, Master."

"Okay, go ahead." Jiang Hu waved his hand.

Lin Feng bowed again, turned and walked towards the hall door, reaching out to open it.

The bright sunlight and faint noise from outside rushed in instantly, contrasting sharply with the tranquility inside.

Lin Feng stepped out, his figure disappearing into the light and shadow outside the door.

Jiang Hu sat alone in the armchair, not getting up immediately.

He gazed intently in the direction Lin Feng had left, lost in thought.

"As for Elder Yang's matter, perhaps you're overthinking it."

Jiang Hu's eyes flickered as he recalled Lin Feng's natural expression of confusion when Lin Feng mentioned Yang Laowu, as if he truly knew nothing about it.

It seems that his joining the charity was perhaps just a coincidence, and not because he was after Old Yang.

Jiang Hu didn't know anything about Old Yang's background; he only knew that Old Yang had told him not to inquire about his situation.

Lin Feng left the main hall, pondering how to dispel the murderous aura. After much thought, he decided it would be better to go to a brothel to listen to music.

During this period, one's Qi and blood are exceptionally abundant.

Moreover, its physical condition has undergone a qualitative change, and the eagle has hatched.

Stand firm.

Not far along, as expected, Jiang Rou, who had been waiting for a long time, caught him red-handed at the corner of the corridor.

Jiang Rou, on the other hand, was very outgoing. She stood in front of the road with a charming smile, her big eyes full of curiosity and cunning.

"Junior Brother Lin Feng! Tell me quickly, what secrets did Father keep you behind alone and tell you?"

Is it about the military examination? Is he going to recommend you for it?

Jiang Rou fired off a barrage of questions, getting very close, and exuding a faint, fresh fragrance that was different from the smell of sweat.

Lin Feng planned to visit Zheng Hongwen, not wanting to talk much, but could only give a perfunctory reply: "Senior Sister, Master only asked about some cultivation matters and offered a few words of encouragement."

The matter of the military examination has indeed been mentioned, but it is still under consideration.

"Consider? What's there to consider! This is a fantastic opportunity!" Jiang Rou stomped her foot in dissatisfaction, wanting to ask more, but Lin Feng had already cupped his hands in farewell, "Senior Sister, I still need to visit Junior Brother Zheng who is injured. Farewell."

After saying that, he quickly left.

Having shaken off Jiang Rou's "entanglement," Lin Feng found out the location of Zheng Hongwen and the others, and headed straight for the healing area in the backyard of the Black Tiger Martial Arts School.

There was a row of specially designated quiet side rooms for injured disciples to rest and receive treatment.

Soon, he arrived outside one of the rooms.

The door was ajar, and a strong smell of herbs wafted from inside.

Lin Feng pushed open the door and entered, only to see Zheng Hongwen lying on a simple wooden bed, his face pale and his eyes closed.

His arms and legs were wrapped in thick burlap and splints, tightly immobilized, clearly indicating that his injuries were extremely severe.