When he left, night draped the stars; when he returned, the Milky Way shone brilliantly.
A mountain sparrow silently skimd over Yanque Street, landing in the courtyard at the northernmost end of North Street.
Swoosh!
As it landed, a crisp 'crack-crack' echoed—the assassin Li Feiyu turned into a youth, feeling the pain in his ridians, especially the twinge in both arms. Su Mu strode into the house and began to boil water.
"After a great battle, there is nothing more invigorating than training!"
Amid the low whirring sound.
The boiler ca to a boil. Su Mu poured the hot water into the large wooden tub, added two packs of Five-Complete Muscle-Strengthening Soup, then shed his clothes and imrsed his whole body inside.
In that instant, the aching ridians flared with burning pain. His twelve ridians, eight extraordinary ridians, and Ren and Du ridians all began to undulate and stretch, yearning for nourishnt after the fierce fight. Greedily, they absorbed nutrients from the dicinal bath, becoming tougher and stronger.
Right now, Su Mu split his mind into two: with one, he introspected, checking on his ridians; with the other, he repeatedly replayed the battle in his mind.
Know one's self and the enemy, and a hundred battles yield a hundred victories—yet Su Mu thought this alone wasn't enough; another elent was needed.
"Drawing experience and lessons from every battle is absolutely critical!"
Hindsight shines. In the constant replaying, Su Mu's formidable comprehension ca into play, soon spotting nurous flaws in his own performance.
Identifying flaws, Su Mu imdiately began devising perfect solutions for each weakness.
As the seconds ticked by, Su Mu's eyes, subrged in dicine, grew ever more luminous.
The real combat experience unteachable by martial arts secret manuals accumulated rapidly here. Facing weak opponents brought nothing; tonight, those who besieged him were no weaklings—all were Seventh-Grade Yijin elders of the Qingfeng Gang.
Each brought different martial arts and combat styles. Among them was an adversary as formidable as Shangguan Feng, and he even clashed head-on with the renowned Gu Feng.
After a long while.
A figure, like a flood dragon breaching the sea, rose from the bath. Su Mu scrubbed himself clean, donned simple, unremarkable clothes anew, and his eyes grew deeper still.
"Let's see what tonight's harvest brings."
Of tonight's gains, the Muscle Strengthening Formula was naturally the most valuable. Su Mu kept it with him and now unpacked the bundle containing six Eighth-Grade Martial Arts manuals.
Among the six, so were thread-bound, so finely bound, so with yellowing ancient covers. After a quick scan, Su Mu had a grasp of their contents.
"Two Lightweight Skills, two Cross-Training Martial Arts… and, a saber technique and a swordsmanship."
Su Mu's gaze flickered; he knew instantly that Gu Feng was mocking him—the Qingfeng Gang's secret manuals were not so easily yielded.
The assassin Li Feiyu's reputation was "Unparalleled Boxing and Stick Skills." So, Gu Feng had brought a saber technique and a swordsmanship instead.
As the saying goes: master all eighteen weapons.
Yet such talk is not realistic—human energy and lifespan are finite; between each weapon lies a mountain to climb. Most martial artists pursue only one weapon their entire lives.
Swordsn practice only saber, swordsn only swords; other weapons are, at most, minor studies.
Rather than entry-level skills in everything—skilled in nothing—it's better to master one weapon, and break all with one thod.
Normally, such saber technique and swordsmanship would be chicken ribs to Su Mu—too bland to savor, too precious to throw away. Even learning them would bring little improvent, perhaps even wasting precious ti and life.
The sa logic applies to the two Lightweight Skills and two Cross-Training Martial Arts. Lightweight Skill is harder to master than ordinary striking arts. Even cultivating one to small success could take years; this is common.
If one cultivates two simultaneously, progress only slows, inevitably impeding advancent in Martial Dao and even neglecting what was already mastered.
Cross-Training Martial Arts is even more so. Its difficulty is no less than Lightweight Skill. Gu Feng, knowing Su Mu already possessed the Eighth Grade Vajra Body, now brought two other Martial Arts of the sa rank.
Needless to say, these two are inferior to the top-tier Cross-Training Martial Arts of the Vajra Temple; otherwise, the Qingfeng Gang's would have been famous in Qingyun, not the Vajra Temple.
Normally, a top Eighth-Grade Cross-Training expert disdains other Eighth-Grade Cross-Training Martial Arts, never wasting effort on the diocre when already owning the best. That would be putting the cart before the horse.
"Qingfeng Gang, indeed… But for , Su Mu's Martial Dao, more is better!"
This Gang Leader's sche fell through. Staring at the six Eighth-Grade Martial Arts in hand, Su Mu's eyes shone faintly.
Possessing a terrifying comprehension over fifty points, studying multiple ordinary Eighth-Grade Martial Arts would not take much ti, nor impede his progress along the Martial Dao.
What would be fatal flaws for others were of zero concern to Su Mu.
Earlier, when Su Mu exchanged for Martial Arts from the Demon Slayer Bureau, he'd weighed his options limited only by rit, not doubt or fear.
To Su Mu, more martial arts ant more chances to elevate his comprehension a bit further.
"Multiple Lightweight Skills, multiple Cross-Training Martial Arts… In the future, perhaps they too can be rged like Rock Shattering Fist and Gale Fist, creating even stronger martial arts."
"To master the martial arts of a hundred schools, blend and refine them, and forge a path uniquely suited to oneself… That is my Martial Dao!"
Fuse a hundred schools, forge a Martial Dao of the self!
At this thought, Su Mu's gaze blazed. Between his brows, the Hidden Dragon in the Abyss roared in response, and in that dragon's cry, Su Mu grasped a greater clarity for his own future martial path.
...
More than a hundred miles north of Qingyun City's North Gate, at a downstream bend of Nine Bends River, stood a half-zhang stone stele: on its southern sunny face, "Cyan Cloud" was inscribed in iron-clad silver strokes; on the shady north face, "Cang River."
A tributary of Canglan River flowed through the county; thus was nad Canghe County.
Early spring, beneath three foot-thick ice, the river surged white as a flood dragon coiled across the land. The Rice Hat Wanderer stood alone on the frigid river, breath pluming as frost, tipping back his gourd to take a swig of wine.
The air in Canghe County, compared to the southern Qingyun County, was even colder by three degrees.
Amid goose-feather snow, humanity thinned; the world was draped in snowy white. Half a day, the Rice Hat Wanderer trekked alone before eting a rchant caravan—wagon horses steaming as they ground ruts through the snow, and a 'Ancient River' flag of black silk and gold letters pierced the snow curtain.
Canghe County, Ancient River Comrce Association?
The Rice Hat Wanderer mused to himself.
"Traveler, are you bound for Guzhou Town?" The coachman flicked his whip, shedding icy crystals. "In this devil's weather, it'd freeze the living! Co, we'll give you a ride!"
Through the snow, hearing 'Guzhou Town', the Rice Hat Wanderer paused, then cupped his hands in thanks.
"Much obliged."
He was about to climb aboard when, from a following carriage, a stoic, bearded man strode up. His steps were steady; he was an Eighth-Grade Bone Forger Martial Artist.
"Sir, have you co from Qingyun County?"
"Indeed."
"My young master invites you to speak with him in the carriage. Please!"
The man stepped aside to show the way, leading Su Mu to a carriage flying the 'Ancient River' flag. Two tall, chestnut stallions drew it, and the cabin was clearly more lavish than the others.
"Young master, the Rice Hat Wanderer is here."
Su Mu removed his Cyan Bamboo Conical Hat, entered the carriage, and lifted the curtain to see a Red Fire Copper Furnace within. A sixteen- or seventeen-year-old noble youth perused a scroll, while a young maid in lotus-hued attire, sword at her waist, stood by—herself a Bone Forging Realm Martial Artist, not yet twenty-two.
At Su Mu's entrance, the maid's eyes flashed with caution. She stared a mont, then relaxed upon seeing a common non-martial man.
The young master laid aside his scroll and looked over, "How should I address you, brother?"
"You may call … Sun Li."
"Brother Sun, since you co from Qingyun County, are you familiar with dicinal herb prices there?"
"I know a little."
"Then, in Qingyun County, what are the prices for thirty-year, fifty-year, and hundred-year ginseng roots?"
"Ordinary thirty-year wild ginseng sells for about ten taels of silver; blood ginseng is dearer, close to thirty taels. Fifty-year wild ginseng goes for around twenty taels, blood ginseng nearly one hundred taels." The Rice Hat Wanderer paused here.
"As for a hundred-year ginseng, that, I do not know."
The young master's eyes lit up; then, like a torrent of questions, he inquired after the prices of several rare herbs. The two conversed, while the maid quietly recorded the numbers in a notebook with a wolf hair brush.
"Have you ever heard of the Shuangbai Poetry Gathering, Brother Sun?" The youth, done asking herbs, suddenly shifted the topic.
"I've only heard of it. I know little about poetry gatherings."
"I see." The noble youth muttered softly, showing a hint of disappointnt on his face. "What a pity—that verse 'Though I know it isn't snow, for there's hidden fragrance wafting here…' was truly exquisite! I wish I could drink and talk poetry with its author…"
By noon, the snow cleared and the sky brightened a little. The rchant caravan reached the outskirts of Guzhou Town. Before parting, the young master unfastened a yellow copper token bearing 'Ancient River' and handed it over.
"Brother Sun, it was a pleasure talking today. If ever you're in trouble in Canghe County, present this token at any shop of the Ancient River Comrce Association."
"Many thanks for your gift, young master."
The Rice Hat Wanderer alighted, slipped into the crowd of Guzhou Town, and vanished without a trace.
To the north of town, red-lacquered mansions were decked with lanterns and festoons. Eight gilded palace lanterns swayed under the eaves, making the red paper "double happiness" window-cuts glow extra bright—the daughter of Landlord Li was to be married.
Yet in the midst of joy, Landlord Li, twirling his jadeite thumb ring, paced the hall with little sign of happiness on his face.
"Master!" A guard stumbled across the threshold. "Outside—there's a Rice Hat Wanderer with a Demon Slayer Bureau Silver Order, saying…"
Before he'd finished, Landlord Li shoved aside the carved door in utmost joy and headed out to the hall.
"He's finally co… Quickly, prepare the best Dragon Well tea! Xiaohong, bring the young lady to the main hall."
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