Chapter 7: Time Flows Gently, One Year Later

Page (1/3) Chapter 7: Time Flows, One Year Later

"You are always so cautious, sir."

The shopkeeper flattered endlessly, though inside he looked down upon the new boss, thinking him inexperienced.

"As long as you understand," the boss nodded, then continued, "The other day, you delivered the goods and Commander Ma was very pleased. We can now take over that street in the east of the city."

"Congratulations, Boss, congratulations! Our Black Dragon Gang has gained another territory!" The shopkeeper feigned surprise, a sycophantic smile plastered on his face.

The boss laughed heartily. "You've done well. Once we've secured the market, I'll give you a shop."

"Thank you, Boss!" The shopkeeper was genuinely delighted, beaming from ear to ear.

"Oh, by the way, Boss, the Bai family on that street seems to have some connection to the Commander’s residence," the shopkeeper suddenly remembered, asking with concern, "If they resist, what should we do?"

Unexpectedly, the boss glared at him without hesitation and scolded, "Are you stupid? Of course we should offer gifts respectfully. Even if someone is just a dog from the Commander's residence, you mustn’t offend them."

The shopkeeper's smile grew even wider, but he felt a chill run through him. No wonder this brute became the new boss—he truly had some cunning.

He then probed further, "Boss, what about the others?"

The boss lazily lifted his eyelids and replied, "Do I have to explain everything? It’s the same as when Brother Long was in charge: those who submit pay a cut, those who don’t get their shops smashed, and if anyone dares resist, the fish in the moat will be well fed."

"Yes, yes, yes!" The shopkeeper’s smile became even more obsequious, his attitude more deferential.

...

Luo Feng and Zheng Zha watched all this unfold below.

Who would have thought that behind the pawnshop lurked the county’s underworld? No wonder such a small establishment dared to kill for profit.

Unfortunately, the boss had come tonight to collect money, and there were a dozen burly gangsters in the back courtyard, their waists bulging—most likely with guns.

Zheng Zha began to hesitate about whether they should act.

Though both of them possessed strength beyond that of ordinary men, the gangsters outnumbered them. If they really were armed, things could easily go wrong.

"Should we give it a try?" Zheng Zha whispered.

Without a second thought, Luo Feng replied decisively, "No risks! We leave."

Safety first—no brash moves.

He estimated their chances: a frontal assault had a fifty percent success rate, an ambush perhaps seventy percent.

Still too low.

The last time the odds were just fifty-fifty, but...

Unless the probability of success exceeded ninety-five percent, Luo Feng wouldn’t consider making a move.

Zheng Zha thought for a moment, then sighed, "Fine, let’s count them lucky today."

Luo Feng patted his shoulder reassuringly, then slipped into the woodshed behind the house where the gold and silver were kept.

A quick glance revealed over a dozen pieces of gold and antiques, as well as a small chest of silver dollars.

The gold was too cumbersome to carry, and they lacked any legendary storage artifacts. To avoid making noise, they took only half the chest of silver.

Ever since Luo Feng began his cultivation, although his offensive abilities were not remarkable, his strength had increased severalfold. Lifting a chest weighing dozens of pounds was as effortless as carrying a bottle of soy sauce.

There’s nothing wrong with being cautious, but collecting a little interest ahead of time was only fair.

Half an hour later, the Black Dragon Gang was in an uproar over the loss of their treasures, almost breaking out into internal strife.

The true culprits had long since returned to the countryside, enjoying their leisure and happily counting their spoils.

Time flowed like water and passed in a flash—a year had gone by.

[Reincarnator: Luo Feng (??)]
[Serial Number: 22333]

Page (2/3) [Skill: Breathing Technique (Level Twelve)]
[Main Quest: None]
[Reward: None]

Luo Feng, whether through natural talent or because this world was suited for cultivation, progressed with astonishing speed.

After their windfall from the gang, the two deliberately avoided several counties, heading instead to places beyond the Black Dragon Gang’s reach, where they bought many medicinal herbs to aid their training.

Now, Luo Feng had cleared all twelve meridians, allowing energy to surge throughout his body. According to the breathing technique’s records, the twelve meridians formed a great cycle called the Grand Circulation.

He felt as though he possessed limitless strength, his body transformed. If when he first began cultivating, he could have torn apart a husky, now—his energy boiling and true qi perfected—he could tear apart a hundred huskies, possessing the strength of a hundred.

Based on his years of reading online novels, Luo Feng classified his current level as Postnatal Perfection.

Though he moved like the wind and possessed tremendous strength, Luo Feng constantly reminded himself not to become arrogant, not to walk the path of the invincible hero. Compared to ordinary people, he was only a little stronger.

He might be fine against wandering martial artists, but if he clashed with a major power, he could easily get shot down.

If he was unlucky enough to encounter warlords, they could blast him to pieces with a cannon.

Even without guns and artillery, what if he was poisoned in some shady inn?

In novels, colorless and tasteless poisons abound, and with his current abilities, he was far from immune.

Luo Feng’s goal was simply to live safely and become an immortal recluse.

As for the Black Dragon Gang?

They were just small fry. If he had the time, he’d take his revenge. If not, he’d wait a hundred years and dance on their graves, perhaps even playing a tune on the suona for their send-off.

Lying low until immortality—that was Luo Feng’s dream.

Unfortunately, Zheng Zha didn’t share his ambitions. Older and more hot-blooded, Zheng Zha, though a practitioner of Daoist arts, was a natural fighter, constantly dragging Luo Feng into sparring matches to test their skills, always hoping for the day they could storm the Black Dragon Gang.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

In the small woods behind the mountain, Luo Feng ran swiftly as a barrage of wooden arrows whistled past him. Just as one was about to hit his back, he kicked off the ground, leaping aside to dodge the strike.

With a crash, a giant tree fell behind him.

Luo Feng halted, catching sight of Zheng Zha less than a hundred meters away, lips curled in a slight smile, as he lunged forward like a panther.

Zheng Zha, already proficient in talismans, could now use three yellow talismans in a minute with ease.

He had also mastered the essence of tactical fighting, especially after Luo Feng’s repeated lessons in cunning.

From experience, Luo Feng knew never to give Zheng Zha a chance to prepare. Close combat was the key—play your strengths against your opponent’s weaknesses!

"Heavenly generals above, crowned by the three stars, hair flowing and form complete, mighty True Warrior lend me your strength!"

Seeing Luo Feng rapidly closing in, Zheng Zha did not panic. He quickly chanted an incantation and drew a golden armor talisman from his waistband.

In a flash, Luo Feng was upon him, but the golden-armored general, formed from Zheng Zha’s energy, was shattered with a single blow. Zheng Zha vanished.

"Damn it!"

Regaining his breath and restoring his energy, Luo Feng cursed in annoyance.

At that moment, Zheng Zha appeared atop a distant tree, grinning, "You taught me this—if you’re fighting at range, never let a melee fighter get close, or you’ll die a miserable death!"

"Again!" Luo Feng planted his feet, preparing to strike.

But Zheng Zha immediately jumped down and waved his hands, "No more, no more!"

Page (3/3)

"Not a single one left, not one," he complained. "I’ve used up all my talismans for the month!"

Luo Feng shook his head in disappointment, saying, "You’re too quick. Less than half an hour and you’re done."

Zheng Zha slung his arm around Luo Feng’s shoulders and retorted, "It’s because you recover so fast! Last time it took over two months’ worth of talismans to tire you out."

Annoyed, Luo Feng shrugged him off, brushing the dust from his clothes. "That’s the advantage of the breathing technique. Endurance matters for a man."

"You, on the other hand, are too fast…"

Feigning a swoon, Zheng Zha teased, "Oh, how hateful, you bully…"

"Get lost! Now!" Luo Feng almost sprouted a cross-shaped vein on his forehead, pulling something from his waistband to ease his nausea.

Zheng Zha just grinned, unfazed.

Strolling along the country path, they occasionally greeted villagers from Yangjia Village, stopping to chat.

Yangjia Village was not a place of vicious or unruly folk, just conservative and reserved country people. Over time, familiarity grew into fondness.

Moreover, with their unusual skills, the two often helped the village solve problems, earning goodwill from everyone.

People are not made of wood; after so long, they began to think of this place as a second home.

"Uncle—"

A group of children gathered at the edge of the village, surrounding Zheng Zha and Luo Feng, their eyes filled with longing as they stared at the pockets of the two men.

Fruit and candied snacks were common in the city, but in remote Yangjia Village they were a rarity. Except for weddings, funerals, or festivals, kids hardly ever saw such treats.

They could only drool and sigh, powerless to do anything about it.

Luo Feng had a sweet tooth, and with no soda in this era, he could only buy candied fruit in the city to satisfy his cravings.

He also shared some of these treats with the neighboring children.

Over time, it became a habit—whenever they returned from town, the children would gather around them.

"Here, Little Black, this is for you," Luo Feng said with a smile, handing a handful of treats to a dark-skinned boy. He warned, "Only one per day, or your teeth will fall out!"

"Got it, Uncle Feng!" Little Black chirped, nodding vigorously as he took the treats.

Uncle Feng?

Luo Feng felt a touch of melancholy. He was only in his early twenties, not even with a girlfriend, and already he’d gained a generation’s title.

Luo Feng: Damn author, you don’t have a girlfriend yourself, but you won’t give me one either.

Author: Isn’t Zheng Zha good enough for you?

Luo Feng: Bah! How could he compare to a cute girl?

Author: Shall I write him as a woman, then?

Luo Feng: ...

(End of this chapter) Page (3/3)