“Indeed.” Lu Sheng touched the edge of his tiger mask, a faint sense of caution rising in his heart. “Could it be that Wan’er has a way?”
“Wan’er does indeed have a way to find a few inner force secret manuals for young master. But what will young master offer in exchange for them?” Duanmu Wan’s tone was soft and meek, her words laced with subtle charm.
‘What a bold claim. Find a few of them? Even the Prefect of this city wouldn’t dare to say such a thing.’ Lu Sheng’s expression remained calm, but his vigilance deepened.
“What does Miss Wan’er want in exchange? Will silver or gold do?”
“How about the same price as today’s Black Fury Skill?” Duanmu Wan replied with a knowing smile.
“If Miss Wan’er truly can get me those manuals, then yes,” Lu Sheng said, his voice firm as he met her gaze.
Unbothered by the intensity in his eyes, Duanmu Wan laughed lightly. “Young master need not worry. Wan’er merely saw that you are handsome and carry an extraordinary air about you, so she wishes to win your favor early.”
As if Lu Sheng would believe that.
The carriage rolled forward, the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoing through the dimly lit streets. Before long, they entered the city and came to a halt outside the Thousand Blessings Inn.
Duanmu Wan and her guard stepped down gracefully, the inn’s waiter hurrying over with a warm smile to welcome them inside.
Lu Sheng remained seated, watching silently as their figures disappeared through the inn’s doors. His face, hidden beneath the mask, was unreadable.
“Let’s go back,” he instructed.
The coachman blinked, as if waking from a pleasant dream. Wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, he hurriedly flicked the reins, setting the horses back into motion.
As for the three guards, they exchanged glances, their faces still carrying the faint look of disappointment left by Duanmu Wan’s departure.
…………
On the morning of the second day, back at the manor, Zheng Xiangui arrived in person — clearly to apologize for the events of the previous night.
The two sat in the backyard garden, where a stone table was set with wine flasks and a few simple dishes — a plate of peanuts and another of cold, mixed carrots. Under the warmth of the sun, such fare was oddly refreshing.
“I must drink this cup!” Zheng Xiangui declared earnestly, raising his cup of wine. “Yesterday was my oversight. When I heard the news, it scared the guts out of me. If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to face the Lu family even if I stripped the flesh off my bones.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Lu Sheng replied calmly. “I was the one who insisted you make the arrangements.”
Zheng Xiangui downed the wine in one gulp and set the cup down with a soft pah against the stone tabletop.
“Brother Sheng,” he said after a pause, “I found it strange from the start… How did you even have the guts to attend a Black Meeting and buy something there, of all places? Turns out, you had plenty of tricks hidden up your sleeve. But when it comes to fighting others head-on, you’d better take it easy. Even if it’s the Zhang family, your Lu family isn’t something to trifle with in Nine Links City. Their influence can’t reach this far. Still—why take the risk? What if something went wrong?”
Lu Sheng smiled faintly. “To be honest, I’ve been passionate about martial arts since I was a child. I only kept it hidden because I never achieved anything worth mentioning. Now that I’ve made a little progress, I couldn’t resist the itch for some hands-on practice at the Black Meeting.”
“Hands-on practice? You killed someone.” Zheng Xiangui was speechless. “You’d better tell Uncle Lu about this, in case the Zhang family tries to pin the blame on you. He should be prepared.”
“I know,” Lu Sheng nodded. After a brief pause, he added, “Speaking of which, do you know anything more about that Duanmu Wan?”
“Duanmu Wan… That, I really don’t know. How about I look into it for you?” Zheng Xiangui offered hesitantly. His family, accustomed to dealing with complex affairs, had far wider connections and intelligence networks than the Lu Manor—an area in which they far excelled.
“Might as well.”
Lu Sheng poured himself another cup of wine and took a slow sip. The taste was so mild it barely qualified as wine—closer to fruit juice than liquor.
“Why? Did Duanmu Wan contact you?” Zheng Xiangui asked curiously.
Lu Sheng was just about to respond when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the circular archway leading into the garden.
A young girl in her teens stepped through, dressed in a goose-yellow short robe. Her face was shaped like a delicate goose egg, her waist slender and graceful, her movements lively and unrestrained. The robe hung open at the front, revealing a pristine white inner layer that clung to her figure.
“Brother! Brother Sheng! So you two were hiding here after all!”
The girl stormed over, her expression puffed with irritation, and grabbed hold of Zheng Xiangui’s arm. “Let’s go! Let’s go, you stupid brother! You stood me up and made me wait at home for two whole hours!”
“Yu’er, long time no see. Looks like you’re not in the best mood?” Lu Sheng greeted her with a faint smile.
“It’s all because of my brother again!” Zheng Yu’er huffed. “He said he’d take me to watch the opera troupe in the northern sector. They’re leaving this afternoon! If we don’t go now, we’ll miss them! I waited and waited, but he never showed up!”
Zheng Yu’er was Zheng Xiangui’s younger sister—his biological sister, to be precise. The two had been close since childhood, and thanks to Zheng Xiangui’s friendship with Lu Sheng, Yu’er had grown familiar with him as well.
“Yu’er, my bad…” Zheng Xiangui said, his face full of regret. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! Whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you!”
As the second son in charge of part of the family’s business, Zheng Xiangui’s cash flow and allowance far exceeded his sister’s.
“I want a purple ink brush, three slabs of ink, ten boxes of cosmetic powder from Red Moon Seal, five packets of powder-needles every day, and a stalk of coral flower every day…”
Zheng Yu’er rattled off her demands like a machine gun—clearly, she had prepared this list long in advance.
But before she could finish, she suddenly realized that Lu Sheng was sitting right there. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she quickly lowered her head in embarrassment.
Then, without warning, she stomped hard on Zheng Xiangui’s foot.
“AIYOH!” Zheng Xiangui’s pitiful scream echoed through the garden. “Good sister, good sister! Let’s go home! We’ll talk when we get back!”
A short while later, Lu Sheng watched in amusement as Zheng Yu’er dragged her brother away by the ear, scolding him all the way down the path.
Now alone, Lu Sheng sat back on the stone bench, observing the servants as they cleared away the dishes and half-finished wine.
“The Black Fury Skill… it can strengthen my constitution, but it’s incomplete—unsuitable for me to practice long-term. What a pity… but I’ve no better choice for now.”
He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. In his mind, he envisioned a faint thread of Qi rising from the soles of his feet, coiling upward into his abdomen before spreading throughout his body along the meridian path recorded in the Black Fury Skill.
This was the first step—the method of initiation into Level One of the technique.
Though simple in form, it demanded exceptional innate talent. The manual mentioned that one could take anywhere from several days to a month to generate the first trace of Qi.
That wasn’t long by normal standards.
His goal was to initiate the skill—only then could he locate its entry within the Modifier and begin altering it. There was no shortcut for this step.
“Young Master.”
Little Qiao appeared from her room, calling softly.
“What is it?” Lu Sheng asked, opening one eye.
The maid hesitated, studying him. He had seemed unusually distracted these past few days, though she dared not ask why.
“Is something troubling you, Young Master?” she asked gently, her tone full of concern.
“Don’t make wild guesses. It’s my own problem,” Lu Sheng replied, leaning back against the bench as he closed his eyes once more. He began to sway lightly, his breathing deep and steady, as though seeking calm in motion.
A dark blue Modifier screen shimmered before his eyes, floating in the air like a translucent veil.
Lu Sheng studied it carefully from top to bottom. In one of the empty slots on the first row, a faint line of words appeared: Black Tiger Saber Technique – Level 4.
As for the Black Fury Skill, it was nowhere to be found.
With a single thought, the Modifier vanished. Lu Sheng opened his eyes and rose slowly from the stone bench.
Since he already possessed the Black Fury Skill, he would persist with it. As long as there remained even a thread of possibility for initiation, the trip would not have been in vain.
In the days that followed, Lu Sheng refrained from leaving the Lu Manor. Instead, he immersed himself fully in martial training.
Now that his Black Tiger Saber Technique had been exposed, there was no longer any need to conceal it. It wasn’t an exceptional technique to begin with.
At the same time, he began consulting Uncle Zhao for tactical advice and real combat experience. His purpose, however, went beyond simple learning—he wanted to subtly let it be known that he had taught himself the saber art.
Although his mastery of the technique was solid, he still sought refinement in its execution—the rhythm of strikes, the timing of movements, and the flow of combat against different opponents. These nuances could only be understood through the wisdom of experience.
Through these deliberate exchanges, the story of Lu Sheng secretly training in martial arts began to spread throughout the entire Lu Manor.
…………
Three days later—
“Dang! Dang! Dang! Dang!”
Clashing steel rang through the training arena as Lu Sheng and Uncle Zhao faced each other, sabers flashing under the morning sun. Each strike carved streaks of silver light through the air, the two blades meeting and parting like colliding currents of molten metal.
Without warning, Uncle Zhao sidestepped, narrowly avoiding Lu Sheng’s descending strike. His expression grew solemn; strands of his hair flew in the wind as his eyes suddenly sharpened.
“Tiger Kill!”
“ROAR!”
A tiger’s roar seemed to echo through the air as Uncle Zhao’s saber howled downward like a falling meteor, slicing straight for Lu Sheng’s wrist.
“Tiger Kill!”
At nearly the same instant, Lu Sheng roared as well, his saber tracing the same deadly arc. The two blades collided with explosive force.
They had already exchanged dozens of blows before this moment. Lu Sheng deliberately adjusted his movement—reacting just a heartbeat too late, as though struggling to keep up.
“DANG!”
The sabers clashed, sparks bursting outward. The impact sent both men skidding apart across the stone floor, their breathing heavy as they steadied themselves.
Lu Sheng glanced down—his right sleeve had been neatly sliced open. A smile tugged at his lips, and he straightened his posture with a look of genuine respect.
“As expected of Uncle Zhao.”
He sheathed his saber with a faint grin.
Uncle Zhao chuckled, still panting lightly. “It’s already remarkable… truly remarkable, for you to perform Tiger Kill so soon. Even if you’ve been practicing in secret, it hasn’t been long since you first got hold of this technique. Given time, there’s no doubt—you’ll surpass an old man like me. In all of Nine Links City, you could easily earn a place among the top five.”
He shook his head in mild disbelief. “To think I once assumed you’d given up on practicing the saber altogether…”
Lu Sheng laughed. “Don’t tease me, Uncle Zhao. You’re one of the top four experts in Nine Links City—how could I surpass you so easily?”
“No, no, I’m not worthy of such a title,” Uncle Zhao waved his hand humbly. “I’m old now, long past the vigor of my youth. But you, Young Master—your talent is astonishing. To master the first move of the Black Tiger Saber Technique in so short a time… you should consider studying a few more martial arts.”
“Learning a few more martial arts? Uncle Zhao means…?” Lu Sheng raised his brows slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Uncle Zhao chuckled, his beard trembling with amusement. “I, Old Zhao, still hold some face in Nine Links City, after all. And your Lu family—well, your wealth speaks for itself. With my connections and your family’s standing, I daresay we could convince a few of those old hermits to bring out their treasured techniques—their so-called crown jewels—and teach them to you.”
He leaned in a little, lowering his voice with a smile. “Of course, these so-called highest-level arts mostly rank around the Third Class. Still, many are on par with the Black Tiger Saber Technique. If Young Master is interested, I can make the introductions.”
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