The Blade-Wielding Legend

Clang! Clang! Clang!

"Blind Third is dead!"

The sound of the copper gong, accompanied by shouting, shattered the tranquility of Li Family Castle.

Not everyone suffered from wolf attacks, but everyone loved a spectacle—especially in the village, where a brawl between neighbors would draw a crowd.

At this moment, many people, who had been ready to go to the fields with their hoes, ran over upon hearing that "Blind Third" had died.

"Tsck, tsck, this is 'Blind Third'?"

"It's this beast, I've seen it!"

"And to think what a fuss you made, as if it had three heads and six arms—look how scared you all were..."

"Fugui, what nonsense are you spouting? If you had the guts, you would've caught 'Blind Third' yourself instead of making cool remarks now that it's dead."

"I didn't have the time..."

"My pigs, scared to death, ohhh..."

Hei Dan's mother ran over and, upon seeing the corpse of "Blind Third," the sorrow she had been suppressing surged forth; she sat on the ground and began to wail.

Hei Dan's father, Li Baoquan, arrived too, and upon understanding the situation, his face turned beet red. With a slap, he smacked Hei Dan hard across the face and scolded angrily, "You rascal, who let you take matters into your own hands..."

He seemed immensely angry and, glancing at the surrounding villagers, he gritted his teeth and said, "Brother Hu helped me a lot when he was alive; if anything happened to Yan boy, how... how could I face everyone?"

"Let it go, it's all in the past."

People nearby hurriedly tried to pacify him.

But Li Baoquan was still seething with rage, ready to beat Hei Dan.

Li Yan interposed with a raised hand, giving a dismissive glance, "I've taken the money, one chicken."

"Chicken?"

Li Baoquan paused, halting his hand, and then awkwardly rubbed his palms together and mumbled, "This... look at how this turned out."

Hei Dan's father's reaction wasn't surprising.

Bladesmen might be known for keeping their promises and being as good as their word, but among those who dared to stake their lives on their belts, how many were pushovers?

Some acted out of a sense of justice and chivalry, many killed for money.

And their prices were never cheap.

Of course, Li Yan's father, Li Hu, was generous by nature; if someone from the village came asking for help, he'd often readily agree, often taken advantage of as a result.

But Li Yan didn't have such a good reputation.

The reason was simple: a difference in mindset.

After all, he was a modern man who had died once before—how could he care about family honor or feudal ethics? He was not bound by others' opinions and acted only to satisfy his own conscience.

When it was time to act, he would never hesitate to draw his knife.

And he wouldn't let a single cent of the money he deserved slip through his fingers.

Nobody would take advantage of him.

What he considered normal seemed troublesome to others.

Unexpectedly, this time, he had played the hero.

"I told you so, only Yan boy could take action!"

"Like his father, he'll be a fine man in the future!"

The surrounding people raised their thumbs and praised in loud, overlapping voices.

Li Yan just chuckled and did not speak.

"The Village Chief is coming!"

Just then, someone called out loudly.

From the dirt path leading to the village came several people, all of advanced age, but the one in the lead was a lean, old man with a goatee and wearing reading glasses.

Although Li Family Castle was home to many with different last names, the only major family with the surname Li meant that for generations, the Li family head also served as the village chief.

This generation's Village Chief was named Li Huairen, the only landlord in the village, from a family of scholars that had passed the exam, a man who cared deeply about face, and was known to have a relatively good reputation.

He walked up and circled around the carcass of "Blind Third," and upon hearing the villagers recount what had happened, he stroked his beard and nodded, "Good, it's the busy farming season. Eliminating this menace will let the villagers farm in peace. Well done."

"Those who have done well deserve rewards. Zhou Juanzi, your pig died—I'll buy it from you and give it to Li Yan's family as a token of the village's appreciation."

Li Yan smiled and said, "That's very kind of you, Village Chief. Thank you."

Martial arts practice used up a lot of energy, always leaving one hungry like a bottomless pit. These days, he had been lacking in sustenance; a whole fat pig would keep him going for a while.

This was one of the perks of having a fearsome reputation.

The Village Chief knew he was difficult to deal with, and would never allocate hard or menial work to Li Yan's family, while making sure they never missed out on any benefits either.

Even happier was Zhou Juanzi, who had raised the fat pig, waiting to sell it at a good price for New Year's, and never intended to eat it himself.

The Village Chief's decision was a pleasant and unexpected reward.

To avoid any potential mishaps, he wanted to take Li Yan away immediately to butcher the pig—on the one hand, to have fresh meat, and on the other, to make the arrangement official.

"You're in such a hurry!"

Although Li Yan teased him, he still called Hei Dan to help with the pig.

After they left, Village Chief Li Huairen also breathed a sigh of relief.

Some idle men in the village, envying the scene, smirked and said, "Village Chief, Yan Brother deserves a reward for taking care of the wolf, but instead of wasting 'Blind Third's' corpse, why not skin it and feast on its meat? It would satisfy a craving and also serve as revenge..."

"You gluttonous ghost!"

Before he finished speaking, someone scowled and cursed, "Blind Third has eaten so many people, how could you stomach its flesh? In my opinion, we should just burn it."

At these words, Hei Dan's mother began to cry out again, prompting murmurs of sympathy from others.

Village Chief Li Huairen stroked his beard and pondered, "In the old days, there were plenty of wolves in Guanzhong, and many old soldiers were still alive. After they killed the wolves, they'd hang them on the crooked-neck tree at the village entrance as a deterrent, keeping things peaceful for a while."

"Zhuzi, take some men and hang this 'Blind Third' at the village entrance!"

"Yes, Village Chief!"

Immediately, several men stepped forward and dragged the wolf carcass away.

"No! Please don't!"

Just then, a frail female voice rang out from the crowd.

Everyone looked and saw a middle-aged woman standing at the back of the group, her pallid face and disheveled appearance, her stench so foul it made people recoil three feet.

It was Widow Wang from the village.

Speaking of her, Widow Wang was truly a pitiable person.

Her husband was an outsider and, moreover, had been a petty thief and layabout ever since childhood, never well-regarded in the village. Even Widow Wang had been bought from a matchmaker.

But even after getting married, her husband never settled down. He often went into Chang'an City to mingle with his good-for-nothing friends and, when drunk, would come back and beat his wife.

Later, he got into a drunken brawl and died last year on the official road outside Chang'an City, leaving behind Widow Wang and a four-year-old daughter.

Under such circumstances, Widow Wang could have remarried without anyone in the village saying much about it—might have even been glad to see it happen.

After all, the life of a widow with an orphan was not easy, and there were a few bachelors in the village still without wives.

However, after her husband's death, Widow Wang fell gravely ill, and when she awoke, she was dazed and disheveled, leaving her house as untidy as a pigsty, reeking to high heaven.

Her poor daughter suffered with her, kept locked up in the house all day.

"People would rather marry an ugly woman than a lazy one."

With that, those few bachelors in the village lost all interest, and there was no shortage of private ridicule.

No one in the entire village wished to have any dealings with Widow Wang.

Seeing the gaze of the others, Widow Wang shrank back, but still said in a low voice, "The corpse of that Blinded Third is unclean, and carries an ominous aura; it must be burned, then we should call someone to perform a ritual..."

"Silence!"

Before she could finish, the Village Chief Li Huairen's expression changed and he sternly rebuked, "Stop spreading such superstitious nonsense! You can burn your incense all you want, but if you dare believe in the likes of the White Lotus Mother, and implicate the village, do not blame me for being merciless!"

With those words, everyone's expression turned grim.

There were no shortages of witches and wizards among the common folk, and incense burning was also thriving in City God Temples everywhere. On certain important holidays, the court would even hold grand ceremonies presided over by priests from the Taixuan Orthodox Sect.

Yet, it would show no mercy to those involved in licentious and secretive cults.

The Maitreya Sect was the most infamous, with many branches among its followers.

Two years ago, a village had secretly spread their teachings. When the court found out, it sent troops to execute a massacre and burned the village to the ground.

Not a single one of those thousands of people survived, and to this day, it remains Ghost Village.

Widow Wang always looked disheveled and rambled incessantly, and she also burned incense daily in her home, resembling those foolish cultists. Even without evidence, Li Huairen was very wary of Widow Wang.

For a moment, everyone's gaze turned darker.

Seeing this, Widow Wang dared not speak further.

The Village Chief Li Huairen huffed, ordered someone to drag away the corpse of "Blinded Third," and hurriedly led his people away.

As both the clan head and the village chief, his life wasn't exactly carefree. With the Grain Full phase passing and the Grain in Ear phase coming, the summer harvest was imminent. He had to deal with a myriad of issues both in the village and his own house as well as the grain inspectors coming from Chang'an City.

The matter of "Blinded Third" was nothing but a small episode for him.

The excitement having died down, the crowd dispersed, off to busy themselves in the fields.

Only Widow Wang stood rooted to the spot, dully watching the wolf carcass being dragged away, a flicker of fear passing through her eyes, before hurrying home.

Upon reaching the small courtyard, she immediately slammed the wooden door shut with a bang.

In the dark, murky room, Widow Wang's gaze changed; she no longer seemed weak. Lighting three sticks of incense, she placed them on her forehead and knelt down, endlessly bowing to the altar in the main hall, murmuring:

"Third Auntie, disaster has come..."

Zhou Guaizi's movements were quick and efficient. In less than an hour, a large, fat pig had been neatly butchered.

Li Yan stuffed several jin of pork into Hei Dan's arms and then had him run errands, distributing some to the familiar streets and neighbors in the village.

After he finished these chores, Li Yan shouldered most of a pig carcass and headed for home.

His home was located at the eastern end of Li Family Castle village.

It was a typical Guanzhong peasant courtyard, spacious with earth beaten flat, where instead of growing vegetables, devices like stone locks and stone balls were laid out.

Li Family Castle was originally a Military Fortress, and a few families still retained the old traditions, tending the farms and practicing martial arts—Li Yan's family was among them.

However, what set them apart was the wooden plaque hanging above their front door, inscribed with the bold and powerful characters "Hundred Battle Valor."

Beside the threshold, an old man crouched.

The old man's white hair was frosty, his body stooped, his face a sea of creases, and his eyes filmy and lifeless as he puffed on a large smoking pipe.

One could see that inside the leg of his pants, nothing was there.

This was his grandfather of this lifetime, Li Gui.

Upon seeing this, Li Yan grinned and said, "Grandfather, the clan leader gifted us a pig. Do you fancy meat sauce noodles or oil-splashed noodles for lunch?"

However, Li Gui didn't even glance at him, his face dark as he drew on his pipe.

Li Yan chuckled silently, said no more, and went straight into the courtyard with the pig to place it in the kitchen.

There was too much pig for him and his grandfather to finish at once. Some needed to be salted, some turned into lard—it was a time-consuming process.

Li Yan was in no rush. After setting down the pig, he moved to the center of the courtyard.

The sun had already risen, and he stripped down to a vest, revealing a body of streamlined, well-defined muscles. After some warm-up exercises and breath adjustments, he suddenly placed both fists at his waist, his body stiff as a javelin.

Next, he pushed up with one palm as if lifting a huge cauldron, then slowly lowered it down.

Red Fist's ten foundational exercises: Overlord lifting the cauldron.

Guanzhong Red Fist had an extremely ancient lineage, with numerous branches. Every village, every martial hall had its own tradition and trump cards.

What he practiced was the old family Red Fist, taught by his ancestors, who had learned it from a military officer in the previous dynasty. It contained many subtleties and profound points.

That military officer, often spoken of in teahouses and storytelling scripts, was known as a "warrior who could take on ten thousand men", his teachings were therefore extraordinary.

His grandfather, Li Gui, was a fierce soldier with rich wartime experience.

His father, Li Hu, was a bladesman from Guanzhong, who scuffled through the pugilistic world and had integrated many covert techniques, lending an extra edge of ferocity.

But no matter what, the Red Fist's ten foundational exercises were the bedrock.

Red Fist emphasized "supporting and replenishing as the mother, hooking and hanging as skill, transforming the body as the wonder, cunning attacks as the method". Its varieties and techniques were endless, but without a solid foundation, it was all for naught.

The ten foundational exercises had both hard and soft variants, and Li Yan, whether in storm or sunshine, scorching heat or freezing winter, had never missed a single day of practice.

His method of practice, however, was different from others.

Those who practiced martial arts knew that "the body of a boxer is as precious as gold", hence the need for a gradual and progressive approach. Rushing could cause lifelong problems.

Yet Li Yan seemed to have broken through this realm.

As he lifted with one palm, stretching his body to its limits, he seemed to truly be lifting a massive bronze cauldron, taut like a bowstring, and from within his body came a creaking noise.

At the same time, Li Yan calmed his mind, focusing his spirit.

Within his body, at the region of his Dantian, a stone statue was slowly levitating...