Chapter Fifty-Five: Wu Dalang

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Standing before a dilapidated courtyard gate, he knocked forcefully, but no sound came from within. Su Yang frowned and knocked again, yet silence persisted.

No one?

Could they already have died at home?

Since the rebel army laid siege, Li-ge had not sought out Wu Dalang for some time. Li-ge himself lived in hardship; starving to death at home or being murdered by intruders was not uncommon.

"Boom!"

Su Yang kicked the door open and stepped inside.

The courtyard was desolate, kitchenware scattered everywhere. The door handle bore no dust, indicating someone still lived here.

He pushed open the room door, and a wooden stick swung fiercely toward his head, whistling through the air with full force. The young man brandishing the stick wore a vicious expression.

Li-ge.

"Thud."

In the next instant, a dull thump sounded as Su Yang caught the stick in one hand. With a squeeze, the wood splintered, fragments scattering across the floor.

"Hiss...!"

Li-ge, clutching the broken stick, stared wide-eyed at the scene, gasping in horror. A sense of dread washed over him; he stumbled back two steps, then tripped and fell to the ground, fear flooding his gaze as he looked at Su Yang.

Since the siege began, Dogtail Alley had seen daily horrors—families wiped out, murders witnessed firsthand. No one pursued justice anymore; the authorities had lost interest. Some even killed for amusement.

For this man to catch the stick and crush it with ease, Li-ge knew he was no match. This stranger must be a formidable martial artist, but he’d never offended anyone—why was he here?

"Big... big brother, who are you?" Li-ge stammered, trembling as he stared at Su Yang from the floor.

Su Yang stepped further into the room.

Li-ge’s courtyard was extremely simple, with only a single room. Li-ge usually slept in the small side room, leaving the larger one for his mother.

He lifted the curtain.

A frail woman lay on the bed, about forty years old, hair streaked with grey, her face etched with defeat and hardship. She gazed at Su Yang in confusion and fear, already gravely ill.

"Big brother, please... don’t hurt my mother. I’ll do anything you ask, just spare her!"

Li-ge panicked, rushing to kneel before Su Yang and beg, his mind recalling recent rumors.

It was said that a martial artist had a penchant for women around forty, and many such women in Dogtail Alley and nearby lanes had met misfortune.

His mother was still ill; if she suffered such a fate, she wouldn’t survive many days.

"Come with me."

Seeing Li-ge’s mother lying on the bed, Su Yang felt pleased, though the black veil over his face concealed his expression.

He dragged Li-ge into a side room and outlined his demands, producing some silver and food, his gaze cold and unyielding.

"If that’s all, I’m willing to do it for you, big brother. Rest assured, I won’t utter a word," Li-ge replied, eyes shining at the sight of the silver and bags of flour, nodding promptly.

"I’ll take your mother now, but don’t worry—I won’t harm her or let her go hungry," Su Yang said. "When the task is done, I’ll personally bring her back, along with the remaining food and silver."

His voice was stern and icy: "But if I hear a single word out of place, it will be the death of you and your mother. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand completely!"

Li-ge nodded eagerly. Such a good deal was hard to come by—he had no intention of leaking anything. He agreed immediately.

Su Yang returned to the room, took Li-ge’s mother with him, leaving some silver, food, and Li-ge’s life behind.

Root Appraisal Technique

Root Grade: E

He frowned, then casually found an empty courtyard near the Su family’s residence to settle her, leaving food and water. This elderly woman should be able to survive.

But if her illness worsened, no one could say for certain.

At home, Su Yang checked Hei Lian’s injuries. To regain the strength of a ninth-grade martial artist would take several more days.

Su Yang boiled the ten-year Snake Ape Fruit and some potent medicines he’d brought from Zhang Qingshi’s house. His blood surged; he closed his eyes and began cultivating, tempering his bones.

The powerful medicine raged through his body like a hurricane. Su Yang guided his blood to continually forge his bones. Once he achieved crystal jade bones and the roar of tiger and leopard thunder, he would step into the sixth-grade realm.

Time ticked by.

Two hours later, darkness had begun to settle. On the road to seventh-grade martial artists, he had made a significant leap, drawing much closer to sixth-grade.

Whereas he previously needed two thousand incense points to break through, now only about fifteen hundred were required. These ancient medicines had propelled him forward in martial arts.

Night had fallen; he must not idle, but devote himself to his beloved work.

Xi Chun had changed into a thin, form-fitting undergarment, reclining gracefully on the soft bed, her eyes seductive. Her delicate feet and long, slender legs were crossed, lips lightly bitten as she murmured through the sheer veil, "Master... I’ve missed you so terribly..."

Last night’s rain was sparse yet fierce, deep sleep failed to dispel the lingering intoxication.

When asked about the yellow chrysanthemums, she replied, the crabapple still blooms.

Do you know, do you know? Sudden winds and rain, a long, ceaseless chant...

That night.

Beyond the Su family manor, other places in Yanggu County knew no peace.

Li-ge, clutching silver and carrying food, knocked on Wu Dalang’s wooden door. Hearing Li-ge’s voice, Wu Dalang was delighted and quickly opened the door.

"Li-ge, how have things been lately? Is your mother alright?" Wu Dalang asked, his face full of joy.

Before the rebel siege and before his own brother became chief constable, Li-ge was the only one in Yanggu County willing to speak with him, so Wu Dalang always treated him well.

"No worries, Wu-ge, my mother’s doing fine. With the siege, your brother, I’ve found the right path and stumbled into some unexpected fortune," Li-ge replied. "Is your household short on food? I brought some for you."

He lifted the sack of grain as he spoke.

"No need, no need, Li-ge. It’s enough that you thought of me. We’re not short on food," Wu Dalang waved his hands in refusal. With his brother as chief constable, he had more grain than he could eat—how could he accept Li-ge’s gift?