Chapter 60 Boldness
The sun hung low in the west, the clouds ablaze with fiery red hues.
In the small courtyard, the sizzling sound of hot oil stir-frying vegetables filled the air.
Chen Mu wielded an iron spatula, rhythmically tossing the vibrant green greens to ensure every leaf was evenly heated.
Beneath the grape arbor, by the stone table, Jie Jia sat solemnly.
Before him lay a pile of fragmented silver coins, which he methodically rolled into silver beads, one by one.
Chen Mu carried the dishes to the table. “Is it true that every great assassin has some peculiar hobby?”
He couldn’t comprehend why Jie Jia would bother rolling broken silver into beads.
Jie Jia ignored him completely, speeding up his work until all the silver fragments were transformed into beads and tucked into his sleeve.
Rising to wash his hands, he produced a pristine white handkerchief, wiped his hands, then casually tossed it into the hearth.
Chen Mu rolled his eyes outright, grabbed a pair of serving chopsticks, and began distributing the meal.
As time went on, the old man’s demands increased.
The tableware and cooking utensils had to be spotless, ingredients fresh, and dishes served with communal chopsticks.
Such fussiness! They had traveled from Qingshan County through rain and exposure to the elements without a single complaint.
Besides, he was just tagging along for the meals, yet making all these requests.
Could he really tolerate that?
A gray cloth bag dropped onto the table before Chen Mu.
He weighed it in his hand—it was worth at least a hundred taels of silver.
“This is your share!” Chen Mu cheerfully announced as he divided the meal.
The Three Suns Six Monarchs Pill had been renamed Spirit Sand Pill, and this was the first month’s dividend.
In total, he had only crafted just over twenty of these pills.
The profit was truly remarkable!
...
After the meal, Chen Mu handed Jie Jia a palm-sized gourd.
“Yellow Dragon Powder. Find someone to test it. The effect might be slightly weaker, but our costs are lower.”
“Good.” Jie Jia’s eyelids twitched subtly.
Spirit Sand Pills were miraculous healing medicines—useless for minor injuries and unaffordable for the poor. Despite high profits, sales were limited, with just over twenty sold in a month.
Yellow Dragon Powder was excellent—a secret golden wound remedy. Everyone in the martial underworld carried some form of it.
Such high-end golden wound medicine was pricey but not exorbitant, and its effect surpassed ordinary remedies, making it widely sought after.
Before leaving, Jie Jia asked Chen Mu, “Do you still want to practice the Form Refining Technique? I can extend credit.”
Chen Mu turned sharply. “Are you really Jie Jia?”
Jie Jia stared at him expressionlessly.
“Deduct it from the profits.”
Chen Mu exhaled in relief. He had feared Jie Jia might have been replaced.
“Not urgent for now,” Chen Mu waved a hand. Without the divine blueprint, it made little difference whether he continued or not.
“The exquisite Form Refining Technique, though lacking the divine blueprint, still holds the possibility of cultivating spirit power,” Jie Jia advised.
“The technique itself embodies divine intent. Ten years of refining the form, a hundred years nurturing the spirit.”
“Once the Form Refining Technique reaches mastery, further practice may lead to comprehending its core essence and cultivating spirit power.”
“The Red Falcon Form Refining Technique is too rudimentary.”
Chen Mu pondered, glancing at his proficiency panel.
Red Falcon Form Refining Technique: 3601/10000, Fourth Tier.
“You intend to cultivate spirit power through the Red Falcon Form Refining Technique?” Jie Jia asked calmly.
Chen Mu smiled without answering.
“Good luck,” Jie Jia said flatly as he turned away.
...
Jie Jia’s advice was rather discouraging.
“But who says I’m not enjoying it?” Chen Mu shrugged and resumed adjusting his breathing.
The Red Falcon Form Refining Technique had entered its fourth tier. The effectiveness of the first three layers diminished significantly. In contrast, the new breathing method he devised was more efficient.
“The body changes less, but the power flow is smoother.”
Chen Mu gained insight.
The three refinements—muscle, bone, marrow—in the Form Refining Technique alter the physical body. Once mastered, the transformation is complete.
The breathing method stimulated the muscles less than previous methods but produced better results by focusing on controlling the entire body.
“One leans toward hardware modification, the other toward software programming.”
“The Form Refining Technique strengthens the body; the divine blueprint empowers the spirit, transforming and mastering it.”
“I see now...”
Chen Mu’s understanding of the Form Refining Technique deepened.
...
Time swiftly passed.
Chen Mu spent each day making medicine and studying, diligently maintaining his breathing method with gratifying progress.
One day, his food supplies ran out, forcing him to venture out to shop.
Leaving Tao Hua District, he headed north along Renhe Street, passing through Xiuhe District until reaching a bustling main street.
The street was broad, named Dingding Street—wide enough for five large carriages to travel side by side. It stretched east to west through Nanyang Prefecture, serving as the city’s central axis.
Beyond Dingding Street lay the South Market, one of the two major commercial districts in Nanyang Prefecture.
Chen Mu had originally chosen Tao Hua District for its relative distance from the South Market, a leisurely fifteen-minute walk.
Observing the comings and goings, Chen Mu found his spirits lifted.
“Being cooped up at home for so long, it’s nice to come out and see some life.”
Just as he was about to enter the South Market for a major purchase, he spotted a familiar face.
At the entrance to the South Market stood a stone archway beneath which several wooden boards were posted with numerous papers, akin to bulletin boards or flyers from another era.
A crowd had gathered there.
Chen Mu didn’t want to get involved but caught sight of a familiar figure amidst the throng.
Zhang Ye?
The man seemed to see Chen Mu as well and, after a moment’s hesitation, approached him.
“Master Chen, what a coincidence,” Zhang Ye said, somewhat awkwardly.
“What’s going on here?” Chen Mu nodded toward the boards.
“Recruitment for the Jinghong Gang,” Zhang Ye’s eyes gleamed.
“You willing to become a lackey?” Chen Mu was surprised.
Could this hooligan leader from Qingshan County accept such a blow to his pride?
“Not just a lackey,” Zhang Ye was visibly excited.
“The notice says that anyone who passes the test will at least become a leader of twenty men. The stronger your ability, the higher your rank. Some may even directly command a hall with hundreds under them.”
Chen Mu was shocked.
Such a long-established gang would have a stable power structure, making promotion difficult even for insiders, let alone outsiders.
Leaning in, Zhang Ye whispered, “I heard the Jinghong Gang ran into some tough rivals—several halls were wiped out. They’re desperate to build their strength.”
“Joining now is almost a death sentence,” Chen Mu said. “With so much power comes great risk.”
“Ah, one rotten life to gamble with. Maybe I’ll make a good name for myself,” Zhang Ye replied carelessly.
Chen Mu took a longer look.
It was precisely this reckless spirit that had transformed him from a petty thug into the leader of the Bailang Gang.
“Good luck,” Chen Mu said calmly and turned away.
“Thanks for the kind words!” Zhang Ye beamed, saluted, and returned to study the notices beneath the archway.
...
“Nanyang Prefecture isn’t as peaceful as it seems,” Chen Mu mused, carrying a sack of white wheat and ten jin of beef as he leisurely made his way home.
The pedestrians moved slowly, most with rosy complexions and comfortable lives.
“I wonder how long this peace will last.”
As the largest gang in Nanyang Prefecture, the Jinghong Gang had lost several halls to unknown enemies, a situation likely to bring unrest.
“Should I stockpile supplies?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
Nanyang Prefecture had a strong city guard. Even if gangs fought below, major chaos within the city was forbidden. Having been frightened by chaos in Qingshan County, he was now like a startled bird.
“This city’s core can’t just unravel overnight.”
“Better to live quietly and focus on leveling up proficiency.”
...
Three days later, Chen Mu wiped sweat from his brow.
A circular space, about three meters high and five meters in diameter, appeared beneath his bedroom.
He sprinkled lime and secret medicine inside to prevent moisture and pests.
Chanting the Five Ghosts Mountain Moving Curse, bags of white wheat began to appear in the space below.
He continued until it was filled to the brim, then stopped.
“It’s always good to prepare for the worst. If I can’t consume it all, I’ll just make fasting pills.”
Looking at the stockpile of grain, Chen Mu felt a deep sense of reassurance.
...
Stockpiling supplies eased the monotony of training.
Chen Mu immersed himself once again in improving his proficiency.
Based on Jie Jia’s medicine test results, he made slight adjustments to the Yellow Dragon Powder formula, which was now successfully on sale.
Monthly profits were considerable, conservatively around two hundred taels.
His savings steadily increased, stable.
Two months later, Chen Mu took a deep breath.
His increasingly refined, complex breathing method operated with rhythm.
In his mind, a red phantom grew clearer.
Where once it seemed a tangled mess, it now revealed discernible lines and structure.
Finally, after his last exhale, his mind cleared sharply.
A distinct image appeared in his consciousness.
It was woven from black and red lines, with edges resembling the flutter of a skirt.
Symmetrical on both sides, at a glance it looked like an abstract bird in flight.
The bird was constantly shifting.
The black and red lines seemed alive, weaving and moving, yet forming a relatively stable three-dimensional structure.
“Divine blueprint?”
At that moment of realization, a sharp prickling pain surged from his soles.
Then came a chilling sensation, as if he were stepping on ice coated with oil.
He stumbled but caught himself.
Instinctively stepping forward, he suddenly vanished from beneath the grape arbor and found himself face-to-face with a wall.
“That speed... it really feels like there’s oil under my feet!”
Chen Mu drew a deep breath and summoned the gray wall, revealing his proficiency levels:
Calligraphy: 1756/10000, Second Tier;
Drawing: 1623/10000, Second Tier;
Throwing: 9833/10000, Third Tier;
Red Falcon Form Refining Technique: Maxed;
Cooking: 3506/10000, Second Tier;
Pharmaceutical Arts: 5126/10000, Third Tier;
Sleeve Shuriken: 3966/10000, Third Tier;
Five Ghosts Mountain Moving Curse: 4447/10000, Third Tier.
“Maxed?”
“Has the Red Falcon Form Refining Technique reached its limit?”
Recalling the ever-changing wing structure in his mind, he realized his body had swiftly adapted.
Aside from nearly crashing into the wall initially, he had fully adjusted to the transformation.
Chen Mu removed his shoes and socks.
A black spot the size of a soybean appeared on the center of his forefoot.
Touching it, he felt it was cool, flexible, and firm.
At a thought, the black spot vanished.
Recalling the bird-like divine blueprint, the spot slowly reappeared.
“Spirit power...” Chen Mu’s eyes brimmed with tears.
Stumbling along, bleeding and sweating, it had taken him a year and a half to cultivate spirit power.
“I really am just an ordinary person,” Chen Mu whispered, covering his mouth to suppress a laugh.