Physical enlightenment begins with Xingyi Quan

Chapter 56 Wrist (Please subscribe!)

Since Chen Jianghe lay down on the bed, the sound of breathing outside the courtyard wall has never left him.

One group was in the northeast corner, another under the eaves in the southwest, and yet another group, further away, was in the shadow of the old locust tree at the alley entrance. There were at least three people in a triangular formation, firmly locking the small courtyard in the center of their line of sight.

His breathing was long and suppressed, clearly indicating that he was a master of breath control.

Chen Jianghe closed his eyes, but his mind was perfectly clear.

"The Zhao family—or are there several families involved?"

His fingertips touched the butcher knife that had been with him for many years.

The image of Master Bai Ri fighting alone against the five major families once again flashed through my mind.

The image of Li Chengyue coughing up blood and holding a gun overlapped with the silent surveillance in front of him.

The chance to catch his breath that Master gained at the cost of serious injury is something some people don't want to give them.

Chen Jianghe slowly opened his eyes.

The moonlight outside the window was sparse, and the room was dim, barely enough to make out objects.

He sat up gently, his movements extremely slow, without making a sound.

Chen Jianghe walked to the window, but instead of opening it, he pressed his face close to a torn corner of the window paper and squinted outwards.

The moonlight was dim, and the scenery in the courtyard was blurred.

In the shadows of the northeast corner, a faint outline almost blends into the jumble of rocks.

The person under the southwest eaves hid even deeper, completely concealed in the darkness.

The aura emanating from under the locust tree at the alley entrance was the furthest and most elusive, clearly indicating the highest cultivation level and the most seasoned experience.

Chen Jianghe withdrew his gaze and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Thoughts raced through my mind.

To kill or not to kill?

Killing would mean a complete breakdown in relations. The Zhao family, the Zhou family, and even the others would likely use this as an excuse to stir up even greater trouble.

Not kill? How can I allow someone else to sleep soundly beside my bed?

Today you come to monitor, tomorrow you may poison, assassinate, or kidnap your mother to blackmail her—in chaotic times, being merciful to the enemy is being cruel to yourself.

He doesn't need to know who sent these people.

He only needs to make them, and the people behind them, understand one thing:

There are some places you shouldn't touch.

Some people are best left unchecked.

The last trace of hesitation in Chen Jianghe's eyes vanished.

He put the brass knuckles on his hands, walked behind the door, and stood quietly.

He could hear every sound coming from outside the courtyard.

He is waiting.

Waiting for the right opportunity.

The third quarter of the hour of Zi (11:45 PM) is when people are most tired and least vigilant.

It is also the time when the night is darkest and the moonlight is faintest.

Time passes little by little.

Chen Jianghe stood motionless in the shadows behind the door, like a stone statue.

Breathing was kept extremely low, the heartbeat was slow and powerful, and all the body's energy and blood were drawn into the dantian, without letting out a single breath.

Finally, "Bang, bang, bang."

The watchman's clapper sounded faintly from two streets away, three times, at the third quarter of midnight.

Almost the instant the clapper fell, the breathing in the northeast corner of the courtyard became slightly disordered for a moment.

It was very brief, lasting no more than half a breath.

Chen Jianghe made a move.

He gently pressed his right hand on the door, releasing a subtle burst of internal energy.

The latch slid open from the inside without making a sound.

He slid out to the side, half-closed the door behind him, and stood in the courtyard.

He didn't look at the northeast corner, nor did he look at the southwest eaves.

He lightly touched the ground with his toes, and his figure floated like a ghost towards the gap behind the woodpile on the west side of the courtyard wall, squeezed in, pressed his back against the brick wall, and completely disappeared into the shadows.

Looking towards the northeast corner through the gaps in the firewood.

The outline was still there, but the posture had been slightly adjusted, as if it was moving its stiff neck.

Chen Jianghe waited patiently.

Ten breaths later, the scout in the northeast corner slowly stood up and lightly stomped his foot—it's only natural for blood circulation to be affected by prolonged squatting.

Just as he stood up, shifted his weight, and his foot was about to step out...

Chen Jianghe has made a move!

Instead of rushing out from behind the woodpile, he pressed his right hand against the wall, used the momentum to flip himself up, and silently climbed onto the top of the wall like a raccoon!

The wall was no more than seven feet high, so it was like walking on flat ground for him.

The instant he reached the wall, he lightly touched the tile with his toes, and his figure floated towards the northeast corner like a falling leaf!

The scout had just stomped his foot and was about to squat down again when he suddenly felt a strange wind above his head!

He looked up in horror, only to see a dark shadow swooping down like an owl, moving at an incredible speed!

The scout instinctively opened his mouth to shout, while his right hand reached for the short blade at his waist, but Chen Jianghe was faster than him!

While in mid-air, his left hand had already pulled a bag of lime powder from his pocket, and with a flick of his thumb, the bag burst open!

Grayish-white powder was sprayed all over their faces!

Caught off guard, the spy's eyes were instantly blinded. In the midst of the excruciating pain, before he could even let out a scream, Chen Jianghe had already landed on the ground. With his right fist covered by a brass knuckle, a powerful punch landed on the spy's Adam's apple!

"Snap!"

A soft cracking sound as the throat bones broke.

The scout's eyes bulged out, his hands gripped his throat, and he let out a soft gasp before collapsing to the ground.

Chen Jianghe didn't stop. He squatted down, pressed his jaw, drew his butcher knife, and with a flash of light, cut into the side of his neck, severing the trachea and blood vessels.

Blood gushed out like a spring, making only a slight "hissing" sound.

Chen Jianghe quickly searched him.

He had five taels of silver in his pocket and a black iron plaque with the character "Zhao" engraved on the front and the number "Ding Qi" on the back.

They really are from the Zhao family.

He put away the silver and stuffed the iron token back into the scout's arms.

Then lift the body and gently place it in the shadows at the base of the wall, covering it slightly with weeds.

The whole process took no more than three breaths.

Clean, efficient, and without making a sound that would alert the other two.

Chen Jianghe lowered his body and turned his gaze to the southwest eaves.

It was still dark there, and the breathing was steady; they were clearly unaware that their companion was dead.

He hesitated for a moment, then did not rush directly towards the eaves.

Instead, he turned around and, following the shadow of the wall, quietly circled around to the main gate of the courtyard.

The alleyway outside the main gate is even narrower, with towering walls on both sides, so that the moonlight can hardly penetrate.

Chen Jianghe clung to the wall, moving like a gecko, and soon circled around to the side of the southwest eaves.

From here, in the shadows under the eaves, one can vaguely see a huddled figure, leaning against the wall, facing the courtyard, completely absorbed.

Chen Jianghe held his breath, picked up a small pebble, about half the size of his fist, from beside his feet, weighed it in his hand, and flicked his wrist—

The stone traced an arc and landed with a "thud" on the blue brick ground in the center of the courtyard.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.

The figure under the eaves suddenly froze and abruptly turned to look into the courtyard!

Just as his attention was drawn, Chen Jianghe darted out like lightning!

With the Shadow Step pushed to its limit, he covered seven or eight steps in an instant and was already under the eaves!

Hearing the wind behind him, the scout turned around in horror and thrust his short blade forward with his right hand!

But Chen Jianghe neither dodged nor avoided. He raised his left hand, and the spy hurriedly held his breath and turned his head to the side, but the short blade in his hand did not stop and stabbed straight at Chen Jianghe's heart!

Chen Jianghe met the attack with his right fist, his knuckle duster clashing with the short blade!

"Clang!"

Sparks flew.

The hidden force emanated from the knuckles, drilling straight into the opponent's arm along the short blade!

The scout groaned, his entire right arm went numb and tingling, and he nearly dropped the short blade.

He was terrified and tried to retreat, but Chen Jianghe had already cut into his center, his left fist like a drill, striking straight at his ribs!

In the instant of the punch and the movement of the body, hidden power bursts forth!

"puff!"

Rib fractures and internal organ damage.

The scout coughed up blood, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He wanted to shout, to warn, to notify the third brother at the alley entrance—

But Chen Jianghe had already gripped his throat with his right hand, and with a slight, hidden force, he snapped his throat bone.

The scream was choked in his throat.

The spy stared wide-eyed at Chen Jianghe, then slowly collapsed.

Chen Jianghe quickly searched him.

It was also five taels of silver and a Zhao family iron plaque, numbered: Ding Jiu.

He dragged the body to a deeper shade under the eaves and covered it with miscellaneous items.

Then, he looked up and gazed in the direction of the old locust tree at the alley entrance.

The third aura is still present.

But it seems—something has been detected.

The frequency of that breath was slightly faster and deeper than before.

Clearly, seasoned veterans have an instinctive intuition for danger.

Chen Jianghe lay motionless in the shadows under the eaves.

He is waiting.

Wait for the other party to make the first move.

The moonlight moved slowly, stretching the shadow of the locust tree even longer.

Time passes little by little.

After an incense stick has burned.

The air beneath the locust tree finally stirred.

It's not a retreat, nor is it an investigation.

Instead, he made a very slight adjustment to his posture, and his breathing became even lower, almost imperceptible.

He was on guard, observing the situation.

Chen Jianghe understood.

This is a cunning old fox. He sensed something amiss but dared not act rashly, fearing he would fall into an ambush.

Since that's the case—

Chen Jianghe slowly withdrew from the shadows, and quietly retreated back to his own yard along the base of the wall.

He walked to the water vat, scooped up half a ladle of water, and deliberately made a slight "splashing" sound.

Then he walked into the courtyard, stood still, stretched, and yawned.

The movements were natural, just like an ordinary resident getting up in the middle of the night to relieve themselves.

After doing all that, he turned around and went back into the house, pushed the door open with a creak, and then gently closed it with a bang.

Inside the room, he neither lit the lamp nor went to bed.

Instead, he stood quietly behind the door, pressed his ear against the door panel, and listened intently.

Outside the courtyard, the breathing under the locust tree visibly relaxed for a moment after the door opened.

Clearly, the other party mistook the commotion for Chen Jianghe getting up in the middle of the night.

But soon, that breathing became heavy again.

Because the northeast corner and the southwest eaves remained silent.

The two companions hadn't used their agreed-upon code signal in a long time.

Chen Jianghe waited patiently.

About fifteen minutes later...

The air beneath the locust tree finally stirred again.

This time, they slowly rose and moved very subtly into the alley—not to retreat, but to silently approach the southwest eaves.

A cold glint flashed in Chen Jianghe's eyes.

He gently pushed open the door a crack, and in a flash, he slipped into the shadows outside the courtyard.

The scouts under the locust tree walked very slowly, taking each step with utmost care.

When he finally turned the corner and arrived under the southwest eaves, his steps suddenly stopped.

Under the eaves, the corpse of his companion was clearly visible.

Just as his pupils contracted sharply, Chen Jianghe moved.

Without any probing or maneuvering, it was a swift and decisive strike!

The lime powder bags arrived first, and the dust filled the air, obscuring the view.

The scout instinctively closed his eyes and retreated swiftly, his short sword protecting him.

But Chen Jianghe had already cut in like a ghost, and a drilling punch went straight for his ribs!

The fist rotates, and the hidden force concentrates into a single point!

"puff!"

Rib fractures and internal organ damage.

The scout grunted and swung his short sword wildly, but Chen Jianghe had already closed in on him, his right hand gripping his throat and releasing a burst of internal force.

"Click."

The throat bone was fractured.

The scout's eyes widened slightly, and he slowly collapsed.

From the moment the attack was made to the moment of death, it took only three breaths.

Chen Ganhe crouched down and quickly searched him.

Five taels of silver, Zhao family iron plaque, number: Ding San.

He stood up and looked around.

The alley was silent, save for the mournful sound of the wind.

Three corpses: one in the corner of the East Asian wall, one under the eaves of the southwest wall, and one right in front of me.

The blood had begun to congeal, leaving dark stains on the blue bricks.

Chen Ganhe walked to the water vat, drew water, and washed the blood off his hands and knife.

He then carefully washed away the bloodstains on the blue bricks in the courtyard, not even cleaning the cracks at the base of the wall.

After doing all this, he returned to the alley and dragged the three corpses to one place.

They found an old hemp rope in the woodshed, tied the corpse's hands and feet together, and stuffed its mouth and nose with rags to prevent blood from dripping during transport.

Then, he looked up towards the inner city.

The night was deep, and the city had already closed.

But he knew that there were soldiers on watch on the city tower and patrols below the city walls.

What he needed to do was not to infiltrate the inner city.

Instead, they sent the three corpses to the inner city.

Chen Ganhe bent down, stacked the three corpses together, and tied them securely with hemp rope.

Then, he took a deep breath, circulated his inner energy, and his blood and qi surged.

With a burst of strength from his arms, he hoisted the nearly 400-pound pile of corpses onto his shoulders.

His steps were steady and powerful.

He carried the corpse through the alley and onto the main street of the outer city.

Under the cover of night, the long street was deserted.

Only the distant sound of the night watchman's clapper and the low whimpers of wild dogs could be heard.

Chen Ganhe carried heavy objects on his shoulders, yet his breathing remained steady.

After a stick of incense had burned, the towering city walls of the inner city came into view at the edge of the horizon.

The city gates were closed to the north, and a few lights flickered on the tower, where the figures of soldiers with spears could be vaguely seen.

Chen Ganhe stopped in the shadows of a street corner about a hundred paces from the city.

He untied the tattered cloth sealing the bodies under the bed, took out the three Zhao family iron plaques from his pocket, and stuffed them back into the clothes of the three corpses, so that the character "Zhao" was faintly visible.

Then, he hoisted the body onto his shoulder again and strode toward the city.

At the city gate towers, which were now fifty, thirty, and ten paces apart, soldiers finally noticed something amiss.

"Who goes there?!" a sharp shout rang out.

Chen Ganhe did not answer.

He walked to the bottom of the city gate, used his arms to lift the three corpses stacked on top of each other high, and then slammed them hard onto the bluestone ground in front of the city gate!

"boom!"

The dull thud was particularly jarring in the quiet night.

The corpses were piled up, with the face of the top one facing the city gate, its eyes wide open, dying with its eyes still open.

His clothes were open, revealing an iron plaque engraved with the character "Zhao".

After Chen Ganhe finished doing all this, he turned and left.

His figure disappeared into the night, vanishing into the depths of the alley in a few leaps.

On the city wall, soldiers rushed down with torches and surrounded the pile of corpses.

The firelight illuminated three pale, hunched faces and the three glaring iron plaques belonging to the Zhao family.

"They're from the Zhao family—"

"Three people died."

"Who did this? How dare they dump a corpse in the inner city?!"

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