A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Chapter 158 Zhong Ji's Worries

Back when I was a clerk in the county town, I bowed and scraped to everyone, bending lower than anyone else, and always had a forced smile on my face until it became stiff.

Even the minor gang leaders dared to boss him around and curse at him.

What was he thinking at that time?

It means to be alive.

It's about not causing trouble.

It is said that patience brings peace.

But now—

He recalled last night when Jin Tangjing's head rolled on the ground, tumbling several times, his eyes wide open, pupils dilated, his eyes wide open in death.

He recalled that just now, when he casually said "You'll bear the consequences," Tang Dingzhen's cautious eyes were filled with awe and trepidation, and she didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

That is power.

But where does power come from?

He slowly sat up straight, his back arched, and his gaze fell on his hands.

These hands have long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles and thin calluses on the palms.

These hands have held hoes, bailiffs' knives, and all sorts of weapons; they've been stained with mud, sweat, and blood.

Now, those hands are stained with blood, and they also hold power.

Where does power come from?

Did it come from the appreciation of a big shot in the capital?

Does it come from his ability to get things done and his skill in leveraging resources?

Yes, no.

Those are all external factors.

The real key lies in his own strength.

He couldn't have killed Jintang Jing if he hadn't been strong enough.

If we can't kill Jin Tangjing, we can't destroy the Golden Knife Alliance.

Without destroying the Golden Knife Alliance, there would be no such prestige as we have today.

Without a reputation, his statement "you'll bear the consequences" is just a joke, and others will only laugh at it.

So, in the final analysis, it comes down to martial arts strength.

He reached out and picked up a copy of "The Twelve Styles of the Golden Knife," flipped through a couple of pages at random, making a rustling sound, and then put it down.

Mid-level martial arts techniques are no longer of much use to him.

He needs a more advanced technique, a superior one, or even a divine skill.

His eyes flashed, and his gaze deepened.

True Qi Realm.

A realm beyond the True Qi Realm.

The True Qi Realm cultivates True Qi.

True Qi circulates in the meridians and accumulates in the Dantian.

The quantity, purity, and application of one's true energy determine their level of strength.

He is now at the True Qi Realm, and the profound divine intent of the True Qi Realm is perfectly integrated with the True Qi.

The True Qi Realm is where divine will and true qi are completely integrated, becoming one and inseparable.

At that stage, every gesture is imbued with divine power, and every move is incredibly powerful, capable of killing with a mere thought.

To reach this level, one needs to master multiple superior techniques and attain an extremely profound level.

Only superior martial arts techniques can refine one's divine will, and only then can one fuse divine will with true qi to create true qi. One can practice inferior or mediocre martial arts for a lifetime, until death, and still never even touch the edge of true qi.

Only superior martial arts techniques can achieve this. Furthermore, one must condense divine intent, which is the true essence of martial arts.

A step further than superior techniques is divine skill.

Divine skill.

These two words flashed through his mind, and Su Bai's eyes became even more profound.

Ancient texts record that once this divine skill is unleashed, it is astonishing and extraordinary, possessing power unlike anything one would expect from ordinary people. Those who master this divine skill are invincible within their own realm, and can even fight against opponents of higher levels, defeating the strong with the weak.

But such divine skills are extremely rare.

First, you need the original text of the martial arts.

Originally, it often carries the spirit and will of the creator, and has a special charm that cannot be copied or faked.

Secondly, it should leave a lasting impression.

The artistic conception left by the creator is the true essence of divine skills. Without artistic conception, only techniques are used, which are merely empty shells, having only form but no substance.

It also requires a master's rubbing.

Only when a master-level expert observes the original text, comprehends its meaning, and then imprints it with their own understanding can it form a divine skill manual that can be passed down.

Such a master requires an extremely high level of attainment.

Even so, the key to truly mastering it is to grasp the essence of the art.

If you can't grasp the essence, even having a secret manual is useless; reading it countless times is pointless.

Su Bai closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, his back pressed against the cool chair back.

His fingers tapped the armrest unconsciously, making a soft "thump, thump, thump" sound, one tap after another, with a steady rhythm.

Divine skill.

If only I could get my hands on a divine skill—

This is also a huge improvement for him.

His superpower can record martial arts techniques, and offering sacrifices can help him master them quickly.

What others need ten years of hard work to master, he may only need in an instant, and only need enough sacrifices.

The problem is, where do we get them?

The Golden Knife Alliance doesn't have any. For a small local gang like this, it's already quite good if they have a bunch of mediocre martial arts techniques; that's something they've accumulated over decades.

Don't even think about the superior techniques.

To put it bluntly, his superior martial arts skills all came from the Ning family. The Treasure Pavilion does sell them, but they are extremely expensive. Lightness skills alone cost tens of thousands of taels of silver, while internal skills are even more exorbitantly priced, often costing hundreds of thousands.

The key is that even the most advanced internal skills are not available in the Treasure Pavilion; you can't buy them even if you have money.

As for divine skills, that's just wishful thinking.

So, where can I find it?

He thought of Fengshan County.

Fengshan County, where the prefectural city was located, was ten times more prosperous than Qingyuan County.

There are large auctions, wealthy merchants from all walks of life, branches of major sects, and martial artists from all over the world.

It is said that superior martial arts techniques occasionally appear at auctions, and even... His eyes flashed, and he raised his eyelids.

I heard that the Annan trade route is about to be completed, and a large auction will be held in Fengshan County to attract forces from all sides, including those from outside the county.

An auction of that scale might have some good stuff.

Annam Trade Route —

He pondered, silently calculating the time in his mind.

The trade route will be completed in at least a few months.

Roads need to be repaired, post stations need to be built, and bandits need to be cleared along the way.

The auction preparations will take several more months.

We need to send out invitations, collect items for auction, and arrange the venue.

It's more than half a year from now, so there's no use in worrying about it now.

However, it is possible to plan ahead.

First, take care of the things at hand and completely control Qingyuan County.

Then save up enough silver to try your luck in Fengshan County.

As for the Blood Knife Gang—

A faint, cold smile curled at the corner of his lips. The smile was extremely faint, yet it exuded a chilling aura.

Liang Yan took in Zhong Ji, thinking he wouldn't dare to do anything?

A frog at the bottom of a well.

Did they think that Su Bai wouldn't dare to do anything else after he messed with the Golden Knife Alliance?

Am I, Su Bai, a cowardly person?

Handle matters officially, and proceed with courtesy first, then resort to force. Sending someone to demand his return is giving him a chance.

If he knows what's good for him and obediently hands over Zhong Ji, then we'll let it go. If he doesn't, then that's fine too.

He was just worried about not having a reason to establish his authority.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze calm and unfathomable, like a still ancient well or a deep, cold pool.

The hall was extremely quiet.

Tang Dingzhen, Zhou Dewang, Wang Muzhi, and others stood ramrod straight to the side, barely daring to breathe. They kept their eyes down, their minds focused, waiting quietly.

Seeing Su Bai deep in thought with his eyes closed, no one dared to disturb him. They even lowered their breathing, afraid of making the slightest sound.

This Lord Su, though young, possessed an aura that was truly awe-inspiring.

When he wasn't speaking, the entire hall seemed to be weighed down by an invisible, heavy aura, making people involuntarily hold their breath and dare not move.

Hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

A soldier strode in quickly, his steps hurried, as if he had urgent military intelligence to report.

He had just stepped across the threshold, one foot already inside, and was about to speak—

Tang Dingzhen turned her head sharply, glared at him fiercely, her eyes like knives, and put her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, her knuckles taut.

The soldier was taken aback. Following his gaze, he saw that behind the desk, the young chief clerk was deep in thought with his eyes closed, his expression calm, and his face appeared aloof in the morning light.

He quickly shut his mouth, pursed his lips, stopped in his tracks, and stood inside the threshold, not daring to move or even breathe. He just stood there quietly, not daring to let his chest rise or fall.

Silence fell over the hall once again.

Only the sound of the wind outside the window occasionally rustled the paper windowpanes.

And there were faint, intermittent bird calls in the distance.

I don't know how much time passed—

Su Bai slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze was calm as water, sweeping over everyone in the hall, from left to right, from Tang Dingzhen to Zhou Dewang to Wang Muzhi, and finally landing on that soldier.

"What's wrong?"

The voice was very flat and emotionless, as if asking what to eat today.

The soldier felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and his body visibly relaxed. He quickly took a few steps forward, his boots making a slight sound as they stepped on the blue bricks.

He walked to the desk, knelt on one knee with his right knee touching the ground, clasped his hands together, and pressed his fists against his forehead: "My lord! Liang Xing and the others sent to the Blood Blade Gang have returned!"

Su Bai didn't speak, but just looked at him quietly.

That gaze was indifferent, yet it inexplicably tightened the soldier's heart, as if something was pressing down on it. He forced himself to speak, "Liang Xing said that Liang Yan, the leader of the Blood Blade Gang, refuses to hand over the person, and—and—"

He started to stutter, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"What else?" Su Bai asked, his voice still very calm.

The soldier gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles tensing, and reported truthfully: "They even spoke rudely, insulting you, sir, and—and expelled Liang Xing and the others. Liang said, 'Let you, sir—let you, sir—'"

""

He couldn't continue; his lips were trembling.

Su Bai continued to look at him quietly, her face expressionless and her eyes unwavering, like a stagnant pool.

"explain."

One word, understated, yet undeniable.

The soldier swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, and forced himself to say, "Liang Yan said, 'Sir, get out of here.' He also said, 'What are you doing sending a few Tom, Dick, and Harry? If he kills Liang Xing and the others, sir—sir, you won't dare utter a sound.'"

After he finished speaking, the hall fell into a deathly silence.

The deathly silence seemed to freeze, making it hard to breathe.

Tang Dingzhen's face was ashen, almost black, with the muscles in his cheeks taut and throbbing. Zhou Dewang's eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets.

Anger flashed in Wang Muzhi's eyes, and he was so furious that he almost spat out his anger. He put his hand on the hilt of his knife.

Several bailiffs standing to the side also looked indignant, their chests heaving, their hands on the hilts of their swords, their knuckles turning white.

Only Su Bai remained expressionless.

He sat quietly in the armchair, the morning light shining on his face, making his cool features even more distinct, as if a thin layer of frost covered his brows and eyes.

His eyes were calm as still water, without any ripples, as if what he had just heard was not an insult, but an ordinary remark, like saying that the weather was nice today.

a long time--

A slight smile appeared on his lips.

The smile was faint, almost imperceptible, with only a slight upward curve at the corners of the lips, yet it sent a chill down the spines of everyone present, as if a cold wind had swept over them.

"understood."

He uttered those two words softly, his voice still very calm and even.

Then he looked away, picked up the martial arts manual on the table again, and casually flipped through it.

The pages rustled as he looked at them, his gaze fixed intently on the pages, as if nothing had happened.

In the hall, everyone looked at each other, not daring to utter a sound, not even daring to breathe.

Outside the window, the sun shone brightly, making the window paper translucent.

But for some reason, everyone felt that the hall had suddenly become colder, as if the cold was seeping out of their bones.

The inner chambers of the Blood Blade Gang.

The candlelight burned quietly inside the lampshade, the flames flickering slightly, illuminating the hall in an alternating light and shadow.

The gilded patterns on the lampshade flowed in the light and shadow, sometimes appearing and sometimes disappearing.

The food and wine on the octagonal table had gone cold.

Zhong Ji sat at the table, the wine cup in front of him emptying and filling again, filling and emptying again.

He couldn't remember how many glasses he had drunk, but after the wine went down his throat, burned his esophagus, and fell into his stomach, he couldn't suppress the unease in his heart.

That anxiety was like a fine needle pricking his heart, causing pain with each heartbeat, and he couldn't pull it out.

People from the Garrison Command have arrived.

This news was like a thorn stuck in his heart, impossible to remove.

He put down his wine cup, which touched the table with a soft "tap".

His gaze unconsciously swept over the furnishings of the inner room. The carved window frames were covered with fine silk, on which were painted light ink landscapes;

The gilded screen, embroidered with a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix, gleams faintly in the candlelight;

A pot of orchids sits on a flower stand in the corner, its leaves long and slender, remaining perfectly still in the windless room.

This place is even more elaborate than the council hall of the Golden Knife Alliance, exuding an air of wealth and luxury. Even the blue bricks on the ground are polished to a shine that reflects one's image.

But what does all this wealth have to do with him?

He is the third elder of the Golden Knife Alliance, not a member of the Blood Knife Gang.

Liang Yan treated him politely, calling him "Brother Zhong," and told him to settle in comfortably. He also instructed the servants to take good care of him, to have the best food and wine, and to have the warmest guest room.

But what lies beneath that politeness?

Is it genuine, or is there an ulterior motive?

He recalled his words, "A mere garrison commander is not worthy of making me, Liang Yan, bow my head." At the time, hearing that stirred his blood; he felt that Brother Liang was truly a man of honor, loyal, and a good friend.

Now that I've calmed down, sitting alone in front of this table full of leftovers, I still feel like something's not right.

Why should Liang Yan offend the Zhenfu Division for his sake?

Based on just a few words like "Brother Liang"?

A strange sense of irritation welled up in Zhong Ji's heart.

He picked up his wine cup, wanting to take another sip, but found it was empty again.

He slammed the wine cup down on the table with a loud "crack," the bottom of the cup hitting the table and causing a pair of chopsticks next to it to roll to the ground.

The servant standing to the side was startled. He trembled and hurriedly stepped forward, bending over and frantically picking up the chopsticks and grabbing the wine pot to pour him wine.

Zhong Ji waved his hand, the veins on the back of his hand bulging slightly with the movement, dismissing the servant.

The servant felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He bowed, took a few steps back, turned around, and quickly left the inner hall, his steps hurried, as if he were fleeing some dangerous place.