Chapter 38: Nothing But Trouble for Me

At that moment, a clamor of chaotic footsteps rose from downstairs—clearly, a crowd had gathered below. Chu Tianfeng dashed toward the staircase, determined to intercept them at the landing.

From his vantage, he saw a mass of heads crowded along the steps and in the living room—a good twenty or more people. Fortunately, all of them were merely at the level of basic internal strength, wielding cold weapons: some brandished machetes, others hefted clubs, a few came empty-handed.

Chu Tianfeng smiled faintly, forming hand seals in preparation for attack.

Suddenly, a thunderous shout rang overhead: "Hold it—!"

Turning, Chu Tianfeng glanced up. At the third-floor stairwell stood a middle-aged man in pajamas, empty-handed and clearly brimming with confidence in his own skills.

"Are you from Mount Heng or Mount Huang?" the man inquired respectfully.

Chu Tianfeng paused. Then he recalled the conversation he'd overheard that night between the man with triangular eyes and his companions—the Salt Society had clearly crossed both the Mount Heng and Mount Huang sects.

"Hmph!" Since there was no love lost among these three factions, Chu Tianfeng was more than willing to muddy the waters further and take advantage of the confusion.

"Please, brother, show some mercy," pleaded the middle-aged man, interpreting Chu Tianfeng’s silence as confirmation of his guess.

"Are you Chai Buqi?" Chu Tianfeng asked, deliberately disguising his voice. On the way to Wushi, Long Fei had already told him the name of the local chapter leader.

"Yes," Chai Buqi replied quickly, now all the more convinced that this was a disciple of Mount Heng or Mount Huang.

The others, hearing this, turned pale with fright.

"I'm just here to kill," Chu Tianfeng sneered.

"As long as you’ll stop, no matter the price, the Salt Society is willing to pay it," Chai Buqi implored once more.

"Hmph! Your heads aren’t worth much," Chu Tianfeng replied, seeing the fear in their eyes and knowing his psychological gambit had worked. Now, it was time to act.

With a flick of his wrists, rows of ice spikes burst forth without warning, whistling toward the crowd on the stairs and in the living room. At the same time, his body flashed, darting straight for the third floor!

Screams of agony erupted, shaking the very rafters.

Chai Buqi was horrified; he hadn’t expected that even after such humble pleading, his opponent would still attack. What’s more, the man was clearly a master of hidden weapons—one strike had felled or wounded over a dozen men.

Desperate, Chai Buqi realized that only close combat favored him; he had no desire to be caught in another swarm of those dreadful projectiles. So, when he saw Chu Tianfeng charging up, he resolutely met him head-on.

Chu Tianfeng had already sensed that Chai Buqi’s cultivation was only at the initial stage of the advanced realm, hardly a threat. Seeing Chai Buqi approach instead of fleeing, Chu Tianfeng’s lips curled in a slight smile as he lashed out with his fist.

Chai Buqi hurriedly struck back.

Bang!

Fist met fist.

Chu Tianfeng staggered back a step, his right arm throbbing with numb pain. But Chai Buqi was sent flying, crashing into the wall so hard that cracks spidered across the plaster.

Blood spurted wildly from Chai Buqi’s mouth as he slumped, limp and powerless, against the wall.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned in the first-floor living room. Those lucky enough to survive the storm of ice spikes scrambled to their feet and fled, scattering like frightened birds.

Chu Tianfeng spared no thought for these small fry—he kept his eyes fixed on the big fish before him.

"You’re not a disciple of Mount Heng or Mount Huang," Chai Buqi said, his own skills allowing him to glean the truth from Chu Tianfeng’s footwork and mastery of hidden weapons.

"I never said I was," Chu Tianfeng replied, advancing slowly and swinging another heavy punch.

Chai Buqi, despairing, watched the fist approach. He neither blocked nor dodged—perhaps because he knew it was futile.

Bang!

Chu Tianfeng crouched slightly, driving his fist hard into Chai Buqi’s chest.

Blood gushed from Chai Buqi’s mouth.

Anticipating this, Chu Tianfeng had already leapt aside. The wall behind Chai Buqi shattered, leaving a gaping hole. Chai Buqi’s head drooped; his breath ceased.

Smirking, Chu Tianfeng shook out his wrist, preparing to use his spiritual sense to search for valuables—perhaps he could find some cash.

But just as he finished searching one room, he heard Long Fei’s urgent call from downstairs: “Hurry, the security guards are coming!”

Chu Tianfeng was vexed—he was really short on money. After such a night’s work, he deserved at least some compensation.

“Come on!” Long Fei called up again, urging him on.

With a reluctant glance at the rooms on the third floor, Chu Tianfeng drifted down.

“I’ll divert them. You go!” Long Fei shouted at the door, then dashed out.

Chu Tianfeng had no choice but to slip out after him, melting into the night.

An hour later, as planned, the two met again outside the station.

“Haha! That was exhilarating!” Long Fei shouted the moment he spotted him. “Even out here, I managed to catch a few of them—ha!”

Chu Tianfeng just shook his head.

“No wonder my sister loves beating me up—the feeling’s amazing!” Long Fei laughed. Chu Tianfeng looked up at the sky, seeing only a bright moon.

“Actually, I miss my sister’s punches…” Long Fei held out his hand. “By the way, Lin, lend me two thousand. I don’t have enough to get home.”

Chu Tianfeng thought to himself: Two thousand just to get home? Isn’t that a bit extravagant? But he still took out some cash, ready to count out two thousand.

“Wait, what’s that?” Long Fei pointed to something in his hand.

Chu Tianfeng looked down at the cash, and at a jade slip that had come out with it.

“I’m not sure. I snatched it from the Salt Society’s Hangzhou chapter last night—who knows what it is.” He tossed the jade slip to Long Fei.

Long Fei examined it. “If I’m not mistaken, this is an entry token for the Li Family Summit Auction. They hold it once a year, and the items are always top quality.”

“Oh?” Chu Tianfeng’s interest was piqued. “What sort of treasures?”

“All kinds,” Long Fei replied, handing back the jade slip. “Food, amusements, even martial cultivation techniques.”

Chu Tianfeng carefully pocketed the token and began counting out money. “Where and when does it take place?”

He wasn’t about to miss such an opportunity—perhaps he could even find more materials for his flying sword.

“Ninth day of the ninth lunar month, Double Ninth Festival, at the Wuxin Academy in the Li Family Summit,” Long Fei replied, eyeing the cash-counting with surprise—he had no idea Chu Tianfeng only had a little over nine thousand left, and now he’d just taken two thousand. The pain stung!

“Lin, remember—you’d better come find me in Longjia Village, Xiang Province, or I’ll have to put a bounty out on you worldwide.”

As they parted, Long Fei hugged him tightly, repeating his reminders.

“Take care!”

Chu Tianfeng thought, I’m already a wanted man everywhere—one more bounty makes little difference.

After bidding farewell to Long Fei, Chu Tianfeng spent the whole night meditating in a park near the station.

——————

Tianhai City, Salt Merchants Building.

A modern office tower, eighty-eight meters tall, twenty-eight stories in all. On the surface, it was a high-end office block, its directory listing one trade company after another, real estate agencies, mechanical-electrical firms, and so on.

But in truth, this was the Salt Society’s headquarters, and the office of their president, Sima Lin.

On the twenty-eighth floor, in an opulent office, Sima Lin lounged sideways on a sofa, while two elderly men sat upright on the others.

Sima Lin himself was well into his fifties—though he’d never admit it, the years had etched lines upon his brow and the corners of his eyes. He took meticulous care of his hair each day, slicking it neatly back—there wasn’t a single strand of gray. He always felt that without a head of flawless black hair, his elegant face would be let down.

His features were as if carved by a master: sword-like brows, phoenix eyes, a finely chiseled nose and mouth, even his mustache was a work of art—there was not a single flaw to be found.

He wore a floral shirt and white trousers—an undeniably stylish, almost flamboyant look.

Seated beside him, one elder had salt-and-pepper hair and a long, horselike face, short eyebrows, and wore a white short-sleeved shirt with light slacks—he looked every bit the retired government official. This was Chen Yue, the Salt Society’s vice president.

The other man’s hair was completely white, fluffy as cotton candy with not a trace of black. His face was gaunt, his eyes set so close together it seemed they might squeeze out his nose, and his chin was pointed, sporting a bristling white beard that brought to mind a white calla lily. This was Yu Guansheng, the Salt Society’s chief inspector and Sima Lin’s chief advisor.

All three bore grave expressions, Sima Lin’s most of all.

“According to reports from the few who escaped last night, the attacker was almost certainly from Mount Heng or Mount Huang—perhaps even both working together,” Yu Guansheng said, stroking his beard.

“Those two sects are like ungrateful dogs! We’ve paid them tribute year after year, and now, just because a few junior disciples got hurt, they retaliate on such a scale—outrageous!” Chen Yue fumed, clenching his fists.

“They likely suspect we kept the real pill furnace and handed them a fake,” Yu Guansheng said with a bitter smile.

“But we only ever had the fake one! What do they expect us to do—buy a real furnace just to give them?” Chen Yue replied, frustrated.

“At this point, I’m afraid that’s exactly what we’ll have to do,” Yu Guansheng said, looking to Sima Lin. “President, what do you think?”

“My concern is, even if we buy a genuine furnace for them, they may still not let us off,” Sima Lin said, brow furrowed.

“My opinion is this: if we make the gesture, they might let it go. But if we don’t, they definitely won’t,” Yu Guansheng sighed. “Also, since both sects have moved into Zhejiang, I recommend we temporarily withdraw from the province to avoid their wrath.”

“It’s insufferable! I can barely swallow this insult,” Chen Yue ground out between his teeth.

“If our fists aren’t as strong as theirs, there’s nothing for it. We’ll follow Yu’s plan,” Sima Lin sighed as well. “I’m planning to enter seclusion for another breakthrough. I’ve had a feeling lately—perhaps I’ll reach the middle stage of the innate realm.”

“Congratulations in advance, President!” Yu Guansheng immediately clasped his hands in salute.

“Congratulations, Brother Sima,” Chen Yue echoed.

Sima Lin waved them off, straightening up. “I’ll entrust the society’s affairs to you two for now. Do your utmost—I expect not to be disappointed.”

“You have my word!” Chen Yue nodded solemnly.

“President, there’s one more thing,” Yu Guansheng said, steeling himself. “A few days ago, Fu Kaishan reported that our Hangzhou chapter accidentally detained Long Fei of the Long family. The night before last, the chapter was attacked and Long Fei escaped. I fear the Long family will now take action against us—we must prepare.”

“That Liu Zuo is nothing but trouble! Can’t do anything right!” Sima Lin exploded, his exquisitely groomed mustache bristling with rage.

“Wait,” Chen Yue interjected, catching a hint of the truth. “Could the assailant have been from the Long family?”

“No,” Yu Guansheng replied, shaking his head. “According to reports, the attacker paid no attention to Long Fei. He first scouted the premises, then struck directly at the branch, following exactly the same pattern as before.”

“Send a generous gift to the Long family at once,” Sima Lin ordered. “As for Liu Zuo—have him detained and locked in the headquarters’ cold storage for a month as a warning to others.”