From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

The alley was narrow, with two high earthen walls covered with withered vines. In the night wind, the shadows swayed. The long-faced man's boots pounded on the gravel, his steps clumsy and disordered, showing no trace of the demeanor of a martial arts apprentice.

He dared not turn around.

She was afraid that if she turned around, she would see that devilishly handsome young man.

At the end of the alley was an even narrower lane. On both sides were low mud-brick houses, the withered grass on the roofs trembling in the wind. He rushed out of the lane and saw a familiar dirt road in front of him, the back street of the muddy alley. After passing through two more alleys, he would reach the bustling street with its many forks.

Once we got there, it was a maze of twists and turns.

If you randomly choose any side road, you'll disappear without a trace, and it will be difficult to catch up.

He felt a sense of relief.

But before he could finish exhaling, a soft sound came from behind him.

"Zheng—"

Clear and short, like the chirping of cicadas in late autumn.

The long-faced man abruptly stopped in his tracks, frozen in place, afraid to move, even his breath caught in his throat. The night wind blew in from the alley entrance, but he only felt a burning heat all over his body. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead and back, instantly soaking through his undershirt, sticking to his skin, both cold and sticky.

"You think you can escape?"

Then a question drifted in.

The words reached the long-faced man's ears, and his heart sank to the bottom. "A bunch of useless trash!" he couldn't help but curse. Only a few breaths had passed? They were slaughtered clean! Even butchering a pig wouldn't be this quick…

There was no time to think.

Man proposes, God disposes; he was unwilling to sit idly by and decided to take a gamble.

His right hand slipped silently into his sleeve, his fingertips touching the hilt of the poisoned short blade. The blade was as thin as a cicada's wing, its edge coated with the bone-corroding poison of the Netherworld Purple Centipede. It would dissolve upon contact with bone, and a single bite would pierce through tendons and corrode bones, instantly shattering the bones and draining the life force of any martial artist, leaving them certain death.

This is his trump card, his only weapon.

Tonight, I can't care about that anymore.

"Sizzle!"

The wind howled, and the long-faced man suddenly spun around, his wrist snapped, and he launched a vicious backhand thrust, aiming straight for his retreat.

People's hearts are restless.

They only know unorthodox methods, not the upright and honorable.

Zhu Hong's lips curled into a playful smile. He loosened his left hand, while his right hand, already clenched into a fist, swung out with a swift motion. He had set a trap for the long-faced man from the start; his apparent hesitation was merely a pretext to give him the opportunity to get close.

An arm's length is the same as a fist's length.

Just as the dagger was about to strike his body, he slightly shifted his body, dodging the blade perfectly. The dagger grazed his clothes, tearing off a piece of cloth, but didn't even scratch his skin.

The long-faced man's pupils shrank suddenly, his heart filled with extreme shock.

"How could there be such a lightning-fast reaction?"

This thrust, delivered with the full force of a cultivator at the Tendon Refining stage, was fierce and powerful. Even an ordinary martial arts apprentice at the Lesser Completion stage would suffer a great loss if caught off guard. However, the young man's mind was extremely sensitive, and relying solely on instinct, he slightly shifted his body and calmly dodged the attack.

Followed by.

It was as if a punch, thrown casually while kneading dough at a noodle stall, had landed with a bang.

"puff!"

The long-faced man was sent flying backward, spitting out blood. His arm, which held the short knife, hung limply at his side, its bones shattering inch by inch. He crashed heavily into the earthen wall, cracking it open.

"Wait, wait a minute."

He struggled to his feet, his back pressed against the cracked earthen wall, panting heavily: "Zhu Hong, I admit defeat. But what good will it do you to kill me? I was just a lowly servant; killing me is easy, but can you handle the aftermath? Perhaps..."

He fell silent for a moment, then gently licked his dry, chapped lips.

"Please be lenient and I will use my connections within the clan to smooth things over and resolve the conflict between the two sides."

Are there some things that can't be discussed?

Zhu Hong laughed, a wild and unrestrained laugh: "Do you think I'm stupid!" Before he finished speaking, he didn't give him any more chance to maneuver. He suddenly lunged forward, without making any unnecessary moves, and delivered a heavy punch straight to the chest, clean and decisive.

The long-faced man's pupils contracted sharply, and he tried to retreat.

But there was a wall behind him, and narrow alleys on both sides, leaving him nowhere to retreat. He gritted his teeth and raised his only remaining arm to block.

"Click..."

Arm bone fracture.

The arm was bent like a withered branch, the white bone piercing through the flesh, a gruesome sight. He screamed, but before the sound faded, Zhu Hong's fist slammed into his chest, accompanied by a muffled groan and the complete collapse of the wall, burying him in bricks and tiles.

Dust billowed down.

Zhu Hong stood before the ruins, withdrew his fist, and let it hang down at his side.

His fists were stained with blood, and his knuckles were bleeding, but his expression remained unchanged as he quietly waited for the dust to settle.

A moment later, a faint groan came from the ruins.

The long-faced man emerged halfway from the rubble, his face covered in blood, his eyes swollen shut, his chest caved in, his ribs broken in countless places, blood foam constantly rising from his breath, his lips trembling, yet unable to utter a clear sound.

Hong Yi looked down, his voice flat:

"Killing you would be as easy as turning my hand."

He bent down, reached out with his right hand, and gripped the other man's throat with his five fingers. "You think you're qualified to negotiate?" he said. Then, he pulled his fingers back.

"Click."

The throat bone was fractured.

The long-faced man stiffened, then collapsed, his head tilted to one side, his eyes wide open in death, filled with terror and resentment.

Zhu Hong released his grip and straightened up.

Under the moonlight, his blue cloth outfit was stained with blood, his left hand was bleeding from a wound, and his right fist was a bloody mess, yet his breathing was steady and his expression was indifferent, as if he had just crushed an ant.

The night wind swept by, carrying the stench of blood.

Zhu Hong closed his eyes.

His internal energy surged, like a dammed river finally bursting. The pure energy from several advanced martial arts students, plus the vast ocean of energy from one martial arts apprentice, flowed continuously into his meridians, heading towards the barrier that was preventing him from breaking through.

The tenth sinew meridian is the Foot Jueyin sinew meridian.

This tendon is thick and tough, like a high wall, and it narrowly missed several previous attacks.

tonight.

With abundant Qi and blood, one's momentum is unstoppable.

Qi and blood surged like a tide, wave after wave, eroding the barriers. Zhu Hong clearly felt the fascia trembling, cracks spreading, like solid ice meeting a raging fire, crumbling inch by inch.

"boom!"

A muffled sound came from inside, and the barrier shattered.

Qi and blood flow into the Foot Jueyin Meridian, clearing the entire blocked fascia. Warm air rises from the sole of the foot, ascends along the inner side of the lower leg, passes the knee and enters the abdomen, connecting the liver and kidneys, and finally converges into the Dantian.

Zhu Hong suddenly opened his eyes.

The wound on my left hand has stopped bleeding and scabbed over, while new granulation tissue has formed on the broken skin of my right fist, which is rosy and tender.

He clenched his fist and cracked his knuckles.

Jueyin meridian of foot.

Connected!

"Two more points are needed to become a martial apprentice." Zhu Hong's lips curled slightly, his smile gentle.

Absorbing the opponent's life force is indeed a hundred times more effective than consuming elixirs to temper the body. Elixirs are domineering; their medicinal power goes berserk as soon as they enter the mouth, rampaging and causing excruciating pain. How can it compare to this clean and efficient method of killing and seizing life force?

A palm strike landed!

When Qi and blood enter the body, things will naturally fall into place.

Zhu Hong casually wiped the blood from his fist, turned around and strode forward, thinking to himself, "I wonder if Constable Jin has dealt with the matter yet? Those two, Jiang Zhongtian and his companion, are like living treasure troves of qi and blood, especially one of them who is a master of the Lesser Completion of Martial Arts. With my strength, I have no chance of shaking them for now."

How could one possibly miss such an opportunity that has been presented to them?

He walked through the narrow alley and returned to the dirt road.

……

In the distance, Jin Buhuan was casually dealing with Jiang Zhongtian and his companion, his expression languid, like an elder playing with children, not exerting his full strength, completely under control. When he caught a glimpse of Zhu Hong emerging from the alley, covered in blood, a barely perceptible surprise flashed in his eyes, quickly turning into admiration:

"In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea."

The Jiang clan elder, who had just entered the martial arts apprentice stage, was dealt with... He couldn't help but sigh inwardly, "With such talent, it's no wonder that the Prefect and the Registrar both favor him so much."

"Then I can't fall behind others."

Jin Buhuan muttered something to himself, and the iron bead in his hand suddenly started spinning faster.

He stopped teasing her.

The round-faced middle-aged man next to Jiang Zhongtian was raising his sword, about to stab again, but Jin Buhuan didn't even look at him. With a flick of his wrist, the iron bead flew out of his hand.

"puff."

The sword tip struck the middle-aged man's brow, penetrating his forehead and exiting through the back of his head, bringing with it a spray of red and white substance. The man's body stiffened abruptly; the broken dagger was still raised in mid-air when he fell straight down, kicking up a cloud of dust.

With a single breath, a martial arts apprentice died.

This truly demonstrates Jin Buhuan's formidable strength as the head constable of the sixth squad in the Jinyang government office.

"..."

Jiang Zhongping's expression changed completely.

Without further hesitation, he turned and ran, not caring whether he could escape or not. He had no intention of fighting anyway. He touched the ground with his toes and suddenly leaped backward, covering a distance of three zhang.

"hehe."

Jin Buhuan did not pursue him.

He simply flicked a metal ball from his palm.

The iron ball whistled through the air, heading straight for Jiang Zhongping's back. Hearing the wind, Jiang Zhongping jerked to the side; the iron ball grazed his back, tearing up a piece of cloth and leaving a trail of blood. He staggered, but didn't stop, continuing to run forward.

Jin Buhuan frowned.

He pulled out another iron bead from his sleeve—not two, but three. He rarely used a third one, not because he couldn't, but because he didn't need to. Tonight, however, he was making an exception, to save face and strive for a swift kill. So what if it was a minor martial arts apprentice?

He held the three iron beads between his fingers and flicked them lightly with his thumb.

The iron ball flew out silently, much faster than the previous one, so fast that Jiang Zhongping had no time to react.

"puff."

The iron bead pierced through the back of the neck and exited through the Adam's apple, bringing with it a cloud of blood.

Jiang Zhongping's steps faltered abruptly. He took two more steps forward, then his knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees. He knelt in the middle of the dirt road, his hands bracing against the ground. Blood gushed from the hole in his throat, dripping onto the gravel like rain.

His body swayed, then slowly lay down and remained motionless.

Jin Buhuan withdrew his hand, put the iron bead into his sleeve, and dusted off his hands. He walked to Jiang Zhongping's body, glanced down at it, and shook his head.

"Why are you running?"

He said it softly, his tone tinged with regret, as if he were sighing for a rather immature junior.

"Lord Jin's skills are still sharp as ever."

I admire you.

Zhu Hong walked over from the alley entrance, first offering a few flattering remarks, then his gaze fell on the two corpses. He didn't say much, but simply bent down and pressed down on the body of the round-faced middle-aged man, and then on the body of Jiang Zhongping.

It's like taking a pulse.

"?"

Jin Buhuan stood to the side, watching Zhu Hong bend down and press on each of the two corpses, raising an eyebrow slightly. He didn't understand what the boy was doing; if it was a medical examination, the two were already dead, so there was no need.

But he didn't ask.

Although Zhu Hong's actions looked a bit strange, I couldn't be bothered to care.

Warm airflow surged into his body, like two streams flowing into a great river. Zhu Hong's meridians swelled, his blood and qi surged, and the eleventh Shaoyang meridian of his foot trembled slightly. Under the impact of the blood and qi in the "Three Pools Sea," there were faint signs of loosening, but it only lasted for a moment before subsiding.

"It's still a bit lacking, what a pity."

He straightened up and walked to Jin Buhuan's side.

"Is it all done?"

Jin did not ask.

"It's all over." Zhu Hong nodded, then offered another self-deceptive explanation: "Everyone's completely dead."

"..."

Jin Buhuan glanced at him speechlessly, then turned and walked away. Zhu Hong followed behind, the two of them walking one after the other through the ravaged battlefield. The moonlight shone on them, and the bloodstains on their robes were still wet.

Lin Jizhi was closely protecting Uncle Liu's family.

His posture was relaxed and casual, with his long sword half-hidden at his waist, showing no signs of panic or tension. When he saw the two return, his eyes lit up, and he swiftly sheathed his sword, approaching them with a wide grin, saying, "Young Hong, no, no..."

He blurted out something without thinking, realizing he had lost his composure in front of others.

"Lord Zhu, hey!"

"Good heavens, you're really something." His tone was tinged with exaggerated admiration. "You beat him to a pulp! You didn't give that bastard Jiang family any face, or he'd be ready to run a brothel!" He took two more steps forward, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, tilted his head, and asked:

"That person, they didn't get away, did they?"

Zhu Hong nodded slightly, his expression indifferent, and said nothing more.

"What a pity!"

Lin Jizhi slapped his thigh, his face full of regret: "If I had known it would be this exciting, I would have followed you around to watch the show." He looked Zhu Hong up and down, his eyes full of amazement, and clicked his tongue in admiration: "Your cultivation progress is just too outrageous!"

His words were full of envy:

"How long has it been?"

"You can even kill a martial arts apprentice at the Tendon Refining Realm all by yourself. It's really hard to understand how you cultivate." He raised an eyebrow and nudged Zhu Hong's arm, saying...

"Teach the younger ones, please."

Liu Ci, who had been unable to contain himself any longer, grabbed his wooden sword and dashed over, tilting his little face up, his eyes shining brightly: "Brother Hong! Weren't you amazing in that fight? Did you chase the bad guy away with just one punch?" He chattered on and on, his eyes filled with admiration.

"I knew Brother Hong was the best!"

From now on, I want to be like you, afraid of no one!

"Definitely." Zhu Hong grinned and patted Liu Ci's head. "If you become a great sword immortal or a master swordsman in the future, I, Brother Hong, will follow you and live a life of luxury."

Liu Ci clearly took it seriously.

He nodded emphatically, tilting his head back to look at Zhu Hong, his face completely matter-of-fact: "Of course, I'll follow wherever Brother Hong goes from now on!"

Zhu Hong smiled and ruffled his hair:

"Practice hard."

Seeing this scene, Lin Jizhi felt annoyed and curled his lip to give Liu Ci a little blow: "Heh~ a little kid who hasn't even grown his hair yet, I don't know where he gets his confidence from, does he really think that anyone can become a sword immortal? Do you know that in the whole world, those who dare to call themselves that title can be counted on one hand."

Liu Ci didn't take it seriously:

"So what?"

In his view, anything that wasn't said by Zhu Hong could be ignored.