Chapter 22 It's Not a Good Habit to Keep Everything for Yourself

The battle ended swiftly, leaving behind two figures writhing and wailing in agony on the ground.

Chu Tianfeng quickly immobilized their acupoints; he had no interest in listening to their pig-like howls. He searched their belongings thoroughly, finding just over four thousand in cash and several bank cards. As for identification cards, driver's licenses, and passports, he didn't even glance at them before tossing them aside.

“What are your names? Which sect are you from?” He released the acupoint of the young man with a black mole, sensing that this one was more timid, so he chose to interrogate him first.

“Just kill me!” the young man cried out.

With a flick of Chu Tianfeng’s right hand, a small fireball suddenly appeared, inching closer to the young man.

“No, please don’t! My name is Lu Sheng, from the Gold-Seeking Sect,” Lu Sheng stammered, sweating profusely.

Chu Tianfeng’s judgment was accurate; Lu Sheng was indeed a coward.

“What kind of sect is the Gold-Seeking Sect? Where is it based, and how many members do you have?”

Lu Sheng hesitated, then replied, “We’re not really a martial sect, more like a gang. We started out as tomb raiders, then organized into a group. Our main activities are seeking treasures, but we also run hotels and clubs.”

He suspected the question was rhetorical—after all, the Gold-Seeking Sect was infamous in China, and few martial artists hadn’t heard of it.

“Speak faster. My patience is limited.” Chu Tianfeng retracted the fireball and gave him a kick.

“Yes, yes. Our headquarters are in Luoshi, Shaanxi Province, and we have several thousand members,” Lu Sheng replied, cursing Chu Tianfeng’s entire family in his heart.

“Who is your leader, and what is his cultivation level?”

“Our leader is Cao Zhengming. I think he’s at the early Innate stage.”

“What about you? How do you classify your cultivation?” Chu Tianfeng was taken aback and quickly pressed for details.

He only knew that cultivators’ levels were divided into nine stages: Qi Refining, Foundation Building, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Spirit Transformation, Void Refining, Spirit Severing, Void Merging, and Great Ascension. Each stage was further divided into ten sublevels; levels one to three were early stage, four to six mid-stage, seven to nine late stage, and ten was perfection.

“I’m at the early Dark Strength stage. Martial artists like us have four main realms: Postnatal, Innate, Genesis, and Sky-Breaking. The lowest is Postnatal, the highest is Sky-Breaking.”

Lu Sheng shot Chu Tianfeng a look, cursing him as a country bumpkin.

“Continue,” Chu Tianfeng said, picking up their flashlights and stowing them in his bag.

“Yes. The Postnatal stage is split into three layers: Bright Strength, Dark Strength, and Transforming Strength. Each has four sub-stages: early, mid, late, and peak. I’m at early Dark Strength; my senior, Tan, is at mid Dark Strength.”

Sweeping his divine sense over them, Chu Tianfeng judged that Lu Sheng was at the fourth level of Qi Refining, while the square-faced young man Tan was at the fifth. According to their system, Postnatal strength equated to Qi Refining, and Innate strength was likely akin to Foundation Building.

“What abilities come with Innate cultivation?” Chu Tianfeng pressed.

“It means your inner energy is stronger, you can project it outward to form a protective aura, and you can leap from high places to lower ones,” Lu Sheng replied.

Chu Tianfeng nodded inwardly. Foundation Building cultivators, without the aid of flying swords, could also only glide from high to low; his theory seemed correct. As for the so-called protective aura, it must be the true energy shield, something Qi Refining cultivators could produce at will—yet here, it required reaching the Innate level.

Furthermore, the defensive power of such shields was limited, useful only against much weaker opponents; against equals, they were as good as useless, consuming vast amounts of energy and risking internal injury if breached.

“What about Genesis and Sky-Breaking stages?”

“Those just mean even stronger inner energy, allowing for farther flight. Oh, I heard that at Genesis, you can open the Heavenly Eye, and at Sky-Breaking, you begin to unravel the laws of the world. But Sky-Breaking is just a legend—no one today has reached it.”

Chu Tianfeng was increasingly convinced: Sky-Breaking must correspond to the Nascent Soul stage, since that was when one could first sense the laws of the world.

“What is the Heavenly Eye?”

“It’s supposedly a sensory ability—where you can see things even with your eyes closed,” Lu Sheng answered.

Chu Tianfeng almost laughed aloud. He understood now—the so-called Heavenly Eye was actually the awakening of divine sense. Here, martial artists only developed it at the Genesis stage, just like physical cultivators needed to reach a certain realm before awakening it.

Yet, they weren’t quite the same as physical cultivators.

These people were clearly ordinary cultivators; Chu Tianfeng could sense the cluster of true energy in their dantian. Their bodies, however, were not as powerful as physical cultivators, only marginally stronger than his own. In other words, they were a type of cultivator halfway between physical and orthodox cultivators—perhaps that was why they called themselves martial artists.

“Why did you try to capture me?” Chu Tianfeng asked.

“Senior Tan said you were… strange, able to sense treasures. A few days ago, we saw Hu Changde from the Salt Society following you. He suspected you had discovered the Thousand Bird Lake treasure, so we started following you as well.”

Now Chu Tianfeng understood—the Gold-Seeking Sect’s interest hadn’t originated with him, but with the Salt Society’s actions.

The Salt Society was likely connected to Peng Yongliang. Since being reborn, Chu Tianfeng hadn’t made many enemies, but Peng Yongliang was certainly one. Rumor had it Peng’s family had underworld connections, and after being humiliated by Chu, he would surely seek backup.

“What is the Salt Society?”

To know one’s enemy and oneself is to win every battle; it never hurt to learn more.

“It’s like us, not a true martial sect. Their headquarters are in Tianhai, the president is Sima Lin, reportedly at early Innate stage. Hu Changde is under Master Liu of the Hangzhou branch. They probably also suspect you found the Thousand Bird Lake treasure.”

He’d heard of this so-called treasure before. Hu Changde had pressed him for its location, likely because he spent every night cultivating by the lake, which must have led to suspicion that he was searching for treasure there.

“What’s the story with this treasure?”

Honestly, it didn’t feel good to be wrongfully accused—if he were to die, he’d at least like to know why.

“Oh, about a month ago, one of our teams dredged up three swords from the lake. Master Cao then organized several groups to search the waters. The news got out, and every sect and gang believed there was a treasure. Even the authorities were alerted and sent people to investigate.”

“And then?”

“We found nothing else, nor did anyone else. But the disciples of the Huangshan Sect encountered a water monster—several were injured, and one went missing. Now, most expert disciples have withdrawn, leaving only junior members to keep watch.”

“A water monster?” Chu Tianfeng frowned.

“Apparently a large serpent, though it was probably badly wounded.”

He relaxed a little; serpents had weak offensive abilities and weren’t much of a threat.

“How many of you came?”

“There were about ten before, now just the two of us.”

“Anything else to add?” Chu Tianfeng’s question was like a death knell; Lu Sheng cried out for mercy. Chu Tianfeng knocked him out with a palm strike.

Next, he unsealed the acupoints of the square-faced youth, intending to verify Lu Sheng’s story. But before he could speak, two powerful beams of light swept toward them.

Chu Tianfeng had no choice but to conjure two fireballs, setting both Lu Sheng and the square-faced youth ablaze. Screams and flames shot into the sky, reducing both to skeletons in moments.

Chu Tianfeng showed no mercy—kindness to one’s enemies was cruelty to oneself.

The beams drew closer. Chu Tianfeng quickly shouldered his bag and fled toward the water’s edge.

Once in the lake, he saw that the flashlights on shore multiplied into dozens of beams. He couldn’t tell how many people were rushing toward the scene.

He breathed a sigh of relief; had he lingered a moment longer, he’d have been surrounded by martial artists. Even with flight, escape would not be assured.

The area was filled with disciples from all the major sects. Once in the water, Chu Tianfeng swam toward the center of the lake.

Fortunately, Thousand Bird Lake was dotted with islands—he’d have no trouble finding a place to land.

He swam for over an hour before dragging himself onto a small island. After a brief rest, he sat cross-legged to stabilize his cultivation.

———

No sooner had Chu Tianfeng left than a group of six arrived at the scene—the Salt Society, led by Hu Changde.

“Boss De, it looks like we’re too late,” Scarface said.

“Search the area,” Hu Changde ordered in a low voice. “He might not have gone far.”

“Yes.” The others replied softly, splitting up to scour the surroundings.

Hu Changde and Scarface approached the twin heaps of human ash, thoughtful.

“Boss De, could it be that kid?” Scarface asked.

Hu Changde said nothing.

Then he noticed a pile of scattered items nearby and instructed, “Go pick those up.”

Scarface obediently gathered the items and handed them over. “Looks like identification documents.”

Hu Changde examined them with his flashlight, his doubt deepening. “These belong to Tan Jiyuan and Lu Sheng of the Gold-Seeking Sect. Could it be…”

Two heaps of human ashes lay on the ground. Even a fool could guess what had happened.

“Tan Jiyuan’s skills are equal to mine. Who could have killed him?” Hu Changde was bewildered.

“Could it have been Chu Tianfeng?” Scarface wondered.

“Unlikely,” Hu Changde shook his head. “We’ve fought that kid. His cultivation is the same as yours—early Dark Strength. Even with his strange movement technique, it should be impossible for him to kill Tan Jiyuan, especially with Lu Sheng present.”

But suddenly, a thought struck him. He quickly threw down the documents. “We can’t stay here. We need to leave—now.”

Scarface caught on, putting his thumb and forefinger to his mouth and letting out a sharp whistle.

Moments later, four figures came running.

Hu Changde swept his hand. “We’re leaving!”

Though full of questions, the four dared not argue and trailed after him.

They’d only gone a few meters when several beams of light shone in their faces, and a stern voice called out, “Halt!”

Hu Changde and his companions stopped in their tracks.

“So it’s Brother Hu of the Salt Society. My apologies!” The newcomer spoke politely, but his flashlight swept over Hu Changde and his group without the slightest courtesy.

“Hmph. If you have something to say, out with it,” Hu Changde snapped, clearly displeased.

He recognized the leader immediately—Zhou Guangyou of the Tianmu Sect.

Tianmu was a minor sect, and Zhou’s abilities were equal to his own; he had nothing to fear.

“Heh, Brother Hu, you seem busy tonight. Any luck?” Zhou Guangyou asked with a smile.

“Even if I did, why would I tell you?” Hu Changde replied with disdain.

“Greed isn’t a good habit,” another man in Zhou’s group said, stepping forward.

He was a young man in his early twenties, with a pale, scholarly face.

“And you are?” Hu Changde asked, frowning. “You look unfamiliar.”

“I am Feng Ke of the Huashan Sect,” the young man replied, expressionless.

Hu Changde’s heart skipped a beat. The Huashan Sect was a major force—no wonder this man showed no respect.

“What advice do you have, Brother Feng?” Hu Changde’s tone became much more courteous.

“Advice is too strong a word. We simply want to know—what happened here?” Feng Ke directed his flashlight toward the human ashes nearby.

“I don’t know. When we arrived, all we found were these two piles,” Hu Changde hastened to explain.