Three days slipped by. Two figures stood at the gates of Feng City. Two days prior, Gao Han and Zheng Kong had cut open the corpse of the First-Grade demonic beast, stripping its crimson pelt and gathering its bones and tendons. Deep within the wolf's chest, they had also found its demonic core, drawing exclamations from Zheng Kong at Gao Han's extraordinary luck.
Instead of returning to the Misty Sect, Gao Han had headed for Feng City, with Zheng Kong trailing at his side. The young man's naturally rugged face was now smattered with black and blue bruises—he had learned to fear Gao Han thoroughly. If Gao Han told him to be silent, he clamped his mouth shut at once, for any disobedience earned him a fist.
At the sight of the towering city gate before them, Zheng Kong let out a loud whoop, then clamped his lips shut tight, stealing a glance at Gao Han. Finding his expression unchanged, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "I've been starved of fun these past days! Hahaha—ladies of Feng City, here I come!"
Gao Han turned to him calmly. "Zheng Kong, we shall part ways here."
Zheng Kong froze, then broke into a sycophantic grin. "Brother Han, heh… I won't chase the girls anymore, I swear! I'm sorry! Don't leave me!" His smile was wide and cloying.
Gao Han turned back and looked at him steadily. "Why do you insist on following me?"
Zheng Kong blinked in surprise, then forced a cheerful look. "I figure sticking with you leads to better things!"
"Then we shall go our separate ways all the same."
"W-Wait, Brother Han! If you really want an answer, let's find a quiet spot after you've sold your materials. How about that?" Zheng Kong knew full well that unless he spoke plainly, Gao Han would leave him for good.
Gao Han's lips curved into a faint smile. "Where shall we meet?"
"The Drunken Wind Tower in Feng City."
Once the arrangement was made, Gao Han walked into the city. Though he barely knew Zheng Kong, he was curious what business the young man had with him; he would hear him out, and decide whether to help afterward.
The Yi Clan Trading Company was the largest mercantile establishment in all of Feng City. It sold weapons, armor, horses, and countless other goods, and also purchased demonic beast materials, damaged low-grade spiritual weapons, and more.
After asking for directions along the way, Gao Han finally arrived at its entrance. The gate was far more grandly decorated than that of the Gao clan manor, with a constant stream of people flowing in and out, carriages and fine horses lining the streets outside.
Carrying a large bundle in his right hand, Gao Han stepped slowly inside. Five identically sized doors lay beyond the entrance. A delicately featured maid approached him. "Young master, may I be of assistance?"
"I wish to sell demonic beast materials. Where may I do so?" Gao Han halted and replied.
"Right this way, please." The maid acted as if she did not notice the awkward bulk of his bundle, smiling as she led him toward the leftmost door. Beyond it lay a corridor lined with many rooms. She stopped before one door. "Young master, this chamber is where demonic beast materials are traded. Please enter." With that, she curtsied and retreated.
Gao Han pushed the door open gently. Inside was a spacious hall, with men of varying ages seated behind rows of tables. Quite a few customers sat across from them, laying out demonic beast materials as they haggled over prices.
Gao Han chose a seat at random and sat down. Opposite him sat an elderly man in his seventies, with silver-white hair. "Do you have items to sell?" the old man asked with a warm smile.
"Tier Eight demonic beast materials," Gao Han replied calmly.
The elder nodded. "Please show them to me, so I may assess their value."
A heavy thud followed as the large bundle crashed onto the table, shaking its entire frame. Fortunately, the tables were carved from exceptionally sturdy stone; otherwise, they would have snapped in two.
The elder was startled, clutching his chest as he gasped. "So many! Did you hunt them as a team?" He pointed at the bundle and added softly, "All of these are materials?"
"Indeed. And within them lie the materials of a First-Grade demonic beast as well," Gao Han said, as if still not done startling the man.
"What? A First-Grade beast? Are you being serious?" The elder's mouth hung agape, wide enough to swallow an egg. "Materials from First-Grade beasts are extremely valuable. Rarely are they sold at smaller trading houses like ours. Would you not consult your companions first?"
"There is no need. Appraise them and name your price." Gao Han's expression remained cold and composed.
"Very well. Please follow me to the VIP chamber—this is no longer a transaction suited for the main hall."
Gao Han nodded. The elder led him toward the back of the hall, and Gao Han rose and followed closely.
No more than ten rooms lay behind the main hall. Gao Han entered one, lavishly decorated. Chairs upholstered with Fifth-Grade demonic beast pelts offered luxurious comfort, the floor was lined with First-Grade beast fur, and spirit fruits rested upon tables crafted from rare aromatic wood.
Gao Han shook his head slightly at the furnishings. It seemed most cultivators still pursued comfort and indulgence above all else. He emptied all the materials from his bundle onto the table.
The elder's astonishment grew with each item laid out: materials from over a dozen Tier Eight beasts, and the full remains of a First-Grade wolf. When Gao Han pulled out the demonic core, the old man was rendered speechless. A demonic core could be absorbed by warriors to boost their strength; more importantly, it was a priceless ingredient for alchemy, worth more than gold and nearly impossible to come by.
In the end, the elder tallied up the total. The Tier Eight materials were valued at twenty thousand taels each, the First-Grade beast at fifty thousand, and the demonic core alone at a staggering two hundred and fifty thousand. Combined, the sum came to five hundred thousand taels of silver. While the price was generous, it still fell short of what Gao Han needed to buy a low-grade spiritual sword. Even so, the haul was more than satisfactory. With another four hundred thousand taels, he would have enough for a proper blade.
Gao Han was pleased with his reward. Had it not been for the demonic core, he would never have earned half this sum even from slaying five First-Grade beasts.
Two hours had passed by the time he left the Yi Clan Trading Company. He made his way toward the Drunken Wind Tower. Cutting through the bustling streets, he arrived before the grandest restaurant in Feng City. Renowned for its exquisite cuisine, the tower was also prohibitively expensive, frequented mostly by wealthy warriors.
Because of the many powerful cultivators who gathered there, few dared speak loudly, fearing they might offend a high-level warrior and meet a swift end. The entire restaurant was nearly silent, save for the soft sounds of eating and quiet footsteps.
Zheng Kong waited on the second floor. When he spotted Gao Han, he coughed lightly and waved him over. The usually foolish and loud-mouthed Zheng Kong dared not make a ruckus here, a clear sign that he too feared the place's unspoken rules.
The two entered a private chamber on the second floor. The Drunken Wind Tower's private rooms boasted exceptional soundproofing—even a high-level True Essence warrior could not eavesdrop on conversations within.
Once inside, Zheng Kong returned to his usual self: slouched shoulders, thuggish bearing, sauntering about unsteadily. Gao Han could barely stand the sight and kicked him in the rear. Zheng Kong had grown used to Gao Han's temper, however, and grinned cheekily. "Brother Han, that was harsh! Come, sit."
He plopped down onto a stool and crossed his legs high. Gao Han had grown almost immune to his antics. "Speak. Why do you insist on following me?"
At the mention of serious business, Zheng Kong's expression turned solemn. "Brother Han… the truth is, I am no ordinary commoner's son." He was reluctant to reveal his background, but he had no choice. "You know of the Ling Kingdom's royal family, yes?"
Gao Han nodded slightly. "The Ling Kingdom's imperial clan bears the surname Lu. Lu Yingjie is the current emperor."
Zheng Kong sighed and continued. "The Ling Kingdom was founded fifty years ago. Four great houses stood with the first emperor, Lu Guangling, to conquer the realm: two civil, two military. They were the Situ clan, Grand Left Chancellor; the Hu clan, Grand Right Chancellor; the Zheng clan, Grand Marshal; and the Gu clan, the kingdom's first general." His tone turned grave. "I am Zheng Kong, son of Zheng Yunqing, the second heir of the Grand Marshal's Zheng clan. I am twenty years of age, and unmarried…"
"Shut up! Are you here to propose marriage?"
Though Gao Han already suspected Zheng Kong was no ordinary youth, he had not imagined he came from a military family. He frowned in confusion. "You are the Grand Marshal's son. Why would you need my help? The Zheng clan is one of the most powerful families in the Ling Kingdom. Every great clan publicly has a Spirit Fusion warrior guarding it—far beyond someone like me. Do you seek to fight for the clan head position?"
Zheng Kong smiled bitterly at the question. "I care nothing for such titles. I wish only to live freely, to carve my own path unshackled. But the royal clan will not leave us be. Since ancient times, ministers whose achievements overshadow the throne have always met a bloody end. The Zheng clan fought alongside the Lu clan to unify the realm, and our influence runs so deep that we hold greater sway than the imperial family itself."
Gao Han's eyebrows knitted together. "So the emperor wishes to destroy your clan. Yet even with the throne's might, wiping out the Zheng clan will not be easy. And even if they could, a warrior like me, not yet at the True Essence Realm, would be little more than a mantis trying to stop a chariot."
To his surprise, Zheng Kong laughed lightly. "The Lu clan has allied itself with the Gu and Hu clans, but the Zheng clan has stood with the Situ clan for generations. By my father's time, our clans were bound by marriage. Situ Nan, the current head of the Situ clan, is my own maternal uncle. That is why the imperial court dares not move against us openly.
If the Zheng clan is the strongest power in the Ling Kingdom and the Situ clan the fourth, their combined might stays the emperor's hand."
"Then what do you intend to do?" Gao Han was truly puzzled now.
Zheng Kong explained, "To counter us and secure a successor to our power, the royal family has built the Lingfeng Academy to nurture prodigies. But even the most talented disciples will need a decade to reach their full potential. The Zheng clan is not a royal house, so we cannot lawfully establish our own academy. Yet we cannot wait to be slaughtered either. So the clan has decided to send us out to find unrivaled talents to serve as our hidden trump cards ten years from now. This would be a mutually beneficial alliance."
Gao Han's face flickered with quiet anger. "So you want me to swear allegiance to the Zheng clan?"
"W-Well, that was my original thought, but—" Seeing Gao Han's expression darken, Zheng Kong hurried to explain, "I know you are a pure warrior, Brother Han, one who will never bow to any faction. So I have changed my mind. I wish to forge an alliance between you and the Zheng clan. Should you ever need our aid, we will not hesitate to assist you. In return, we only ask that you stand with us when the Zheng clan clashes with the Lu clan a decade from now. Will you agree?"
Gao Han thought carefully. The arrangement favored him greatly, yet he asked, "Would the Zheng clan really concede so much for a mere Qi Condensation warrior like me?"
Zheng Kong laughed openly. "Brother Han, we care not for your current cultivation—we care for your talent. At sixteen, you have already reached the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation, a feat achieved by fewer than a thousand warriors across all of Cangnan. On top of that, you have slain a First-Grade demonic beast. No one can say how far you will rise once you reach the peak of the True Essence Realm. I have faith in what you can accomplish in ten years."
With a soft sigh, Gao Han finally made his decision. "Very well. From today onward, I, Gao Han, am an ally of the Zheng clan. Not only ten years hence—if you have need of me at any point during this decade, speak freely."
Zheng Kong's mood brightened at once. "Excellent! Brother Han, what do you plan to do now?"
Gao Han smiled bitterly at the question. "My only goal is to raise my cultivation as quickly as possible. If I cannot break through to the True Essence Realm soon, I will not live to see those ten years. I shall be dead within six months."
He told Zheng Kong of his grudge with Zheng Yunfeng. Upon hearing the tale, Zheng Kong flew into a rage. "What? Who does this Zheng Yunfeng think he is? Some bastard abomination! And he dares carry the Zheng name? He shames us all!" His vulgar shouts were too much to bear, leaving Gao Han holding his forehead and sighing in exasperation. Is this really how noble clan heirs are raised? Zheng Kong now stood with one foot on the bench, finger pointed toward the sky, ranting nonsense until even he lost track of whom he was cursing.
As the two drank and shouted in amusement, a clamor rose from outside.
"Hurry! Lian Yong, the top outer-sect disciple of the Firecloud Manor, is about to duel Chen Liang, the famed Left-Handed Swordsman of the jianghu!"
Gao Han stood calmly. "Let us go watch." Without waiting for Zheng Kong, he walked outside alone. Zheng Kong hurried to follow, but slipped on his raised foot and stumbled face-first into the table of dishes, covering himself in oil. By the time he caught up, Gao Han was already seated at the edge of the crowd, wine jug in hand, watching the scene unfold below.
"Lian Yong, you may be the greatest outer-sect warrior of the Firecloud Sect, but I am a renowned jianghu fighter who has long reached the True Essence Realm. I know you seek fame, but I suggest you find another opponent." Chen Liang, the Left-Handed Swordsman, sneered at Lian Yong.
"Save your breath. Face me!" Lian Yong was so cold he would not waste another word.
He slashed his broadsword through the air, unleashing a sharp blade aura toward Chen Liang. Chen Liang's pupils constricted, and he cried out, "True Essence Realm! So you have broken through—no wonder you dared challenge me!"
In the blink of an eye, Chen Liang flicked his left-handed longsword, sending an equally sharp sword aura to meet the oncoming strike. The two forces collided with a deafening boom. Though they canceled each other out, a violent gust of wind scattered outward, rocking half the onlookers. The more powerful cultivators remained unshaken—and Gao Han was among them.
"This will be a good show. Zheng Kong, tell the waiter to bring another jar of fine wine," Gao Han said, steadying the swaying Zheng Kong.
Zheng Kong smiled wryly. "Brother Han, I'm your ally, not your servant!" Seeing that Gao Han would not reply, he reluctantly went to fetch the wine.
Lian Yong had never expected the strike to land. He darted toward Chen Liang with his blade in hand, raising the broadsword high as he neared and striking down with domineering force. True qi surged around the blade, exuding unyielding power. This was the Firecloud Manor's Red Cloud Sun Art, rooted in unbridled dominance—march forward without retreat, until the foe was crushed.
The massive, imposing blade aura rushed toward Chen Liang. Chen Liang earned his title as the Left-Handed Swordsman not only for wielding his sword with his left hand, but for his exquisitely precise strikes. Otherwise, among so many left-handed swordsmen in Cangnan, he would never have claimed such a name.
Watching the overbearing aura bear down on him, Chen Liang twisted his body and swept his sword in an arc, unleashing a sword aura that swept toward the crowd. Spectators scrambled to dodge, cursing him loudly.
The thuggish Zheng Kong would not be outdone. "Chen Liang, you bastard! Who do you think you're attacking? You brainless fool—your head must have been kicked by a mule!" His voice rose above all the other shouts.
Everyone turned toward Zheng Kong, including Chen Liang. His eyes turned sinister as he fixed on the pair. Furious at the vulgar insults, his face turned green with rage. "You courting death!"
Unable to contain his anger any longer, Chen Liang unleashed a long, sharp sword aura toward Zheng Kong with a casual flick of his blade.
Gao Han shook his head slightly. This man will never achieve greatness. Lian Yong's power already surpasses his—he is a sect warrior, trained and resourced far better than a jianghu vagabond. Yet he lets a mere insult distract him. He is doomed to die.
There was no time for further thought. The sword aura closed in fast. Gao Han stood helplessly, drew his sword in a flash, and swung it with full force, unleashing his most devastating technique: Soul-Breaking River Surge. The incoming aura sliced apart like soft tofu, dissipating into thin air.