Chapter 126: Planning

To avenge their deceased senior and junior brothers, and to reclaim the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall in Three Yang City, became the next task for everyone.

With a goal in mind, everyone found motivation; even Master Zhao Ge regained some vigor, no longer slumped and despondent as before, and began planning how to seek revenge and recover the hall.

Everything needed a plan and structure; one could not act on impulse and ruin everything.

After all, the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall now had only this few left—if they suffered another setback, they would never recover.

Thus,

everyone sat around the bonfire inside the ruined temple, discussing their next course of action.

Li Yi said nothing; he merely stood aside, listening quietly, for he was still unfamiliar with everything in this world and did not know which enemies his master faced—he only knew his primary mission was to save his master, a mission not yet completed, since Zhao Qian had told him the coffin mushroom needed to cure his master had been stolen by a traitor within the hall.

Though his master had drunk the Extraordinary Water and his injuries had improved, without the coffin mushroom he would not live long.

He also intended to better understand and explore this world while helping the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall.

By the bonfire, Rong Niang, as the senior sister, spoke methodically: “We are currently being hunted by the Han and Jin family martial halls. Although our senior brother killed this wave of pursuers, their losses were so great that they will surely be enraged and refuse to let us go. Therefore, for the time being, neither we nor our master can afford to show our faces in Three Yang City, lest we alert the enemy.”

“So I suggest we first find the traitor and reclaim the coffin mushroom, preventing them from using it as leverage. Once we have the coffin mushroom, our master’s injuries will heal. After we recuperate for a while longer, we can openly reclaim the hall—given our senior brother’s and our master’s strength, they will dare not interfere.”

Zhao Qian nodded: “Sister’s plan is sound. I agree.”

“Saving our master is most important. Once we recover the coffin mushroom and his injuries heal, we can do anything we want,” said Skinny Monkey, nodding in agreement.

Zhao Ge thought it over and also approved of Rong Niang’s plan—it was safe and low-risk.

But he did not immediately agree; instead, he turned to Li Yi beside him: “Meng De, what do you think?”

No matter the plan, its success hinged on Li Yi—he was currently the strongest among the few remaining.

Li Yi simply asked: “Master, I want to know: in Three Yang City, who are our true enemies? What are their respective strengths? Only after understanding this can I proceed with my next move.”

“The ones who hunted me most fiercely and relentlessly are the Han and Jin family martial halls. Their hall masters, Han Tianbao and Jin Zhihuan, are both Qi-Opening martial artists, just like me. Before my injury, my strength was roughly equal to theirs. But these two halls have been rooted in Three Yang City for years; their disciples are strong, and altogether they have at least a dozen Blood-Cultivating experts.”

Zhao Ge now began detailing the situation in Three Yang City: “But I suspect the Three Yang City Prefect is secretly behind this. Otherwise, these two halls have always been at odds—they could never have acted so swiftly and in such perfect coordination without some secret agreement.”

“Master, what is the Prefect’s strength?” Li Yi asked again.

“Also Qi-Opening.”

Zhao Ge said seriously: “Three Yang City is small and lacks resources—it cannot produce martial artists above Qi-Opening. Just our few of us have nearly drained the city and its surroundings. Cultivating martial arts consumes vast resources: cultivation methods, medicinal herbs, daily expenses, hall maintenance. Three halls are already the limit. If a fourth hall appeared, the city’s tax revenue would collapse, and many would starve.”

“I know this, and so do Han Tianbao and Jin Zhihuan. But to avoid falling behind, these three halls have spent years secretly and openly strengthening themselves, recruiting more disciples and building power, all out of fear of being swallowed up.”

At this, Zhao Ge’s aged face showed a trace of helplessness.

To survive in Three Yang City, he had no choice but to do this—otherwise, the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall would have collapsed long ago.

Li Yi now understood.

In this ancient world, a city’s resources were limited, and martial artists were heavy consumers—eating and using much, producing nothing. The three halls had indirectly drained Three Yang City dry. And each hall, fearing weakness and being swallowed by the other two, could only continuously strengthen themselves—recruiting soldiers, training disciples.

Thus, a vicious cycle began.

Originally, each of the three halls had one Qi-Opening expert as its pillar. Though they secretly competed, none could overcome the others.

Until news spread of Master Zhao Ge’s soul injury—the balance was shattered.

The Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall became the first to be swallowed.

The Three Yang City Prefect, as the government authority, naturally welcomed this outcome—he wished to reduce the number of martial halls under his rule. So he aided the other two halls, and overnight they devoured the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall completely, determined to eradicate all traces to prevent any resurgence.

If Master Zhao Ge had survived and one day recovered, a Qi-Opening expert seeking revenge would force them to pay a heavy price.

After sorting it all out, Li Yi had a rough idea in mind. He looked at the group and said: “After hearing your account, Master, I have a plan.”

“What plan, Senior Brother? Please speak,” said Skinny Monkey immediately.

Rong Niang and Zhao Qian both looked up at Li Yi.

Li Yi’s face was stern. He said: “It’s simple. Kill the two Qi-Opening martial artists in Three Yang City. Without their Qi-Opening masters to hold them up, the Han and Jin halls will crumble—trees fall, monkeys scatter. Then, when our master simply appears and reclaims the hall’s banner, we won’t even need to fight—the Zhao Family Martial Arts Hall will be rebuilt.”

“As for the coffin mushroom needed to heal our master—in a few days, when I go to Three Yang City to kill, I’ll kill the traitor along the way and take it back directly. Why make it so complicated?”

At these words, everyone was stunned.

Was this really so crude and direct?

“Qi-Opening martial artists are very strong. Do you have confidence you can defeat them?” Zhao Ge asked gravely.

Li Yi grinned: “I’ve never fought one, so I don’t know—but killing your Blood-Cultivating experts is as easy as eating and drinking. I suppose I can handle a Qi-Opening expert too.”

He was a Spirit Awakening cultivator; his strength was hard to classify in this world. Since he had never fought a Qi-Opening expert, he couldn’t gauge his chances.

“Not knowing is unacceptable. Rushing into battle and losing means total defeat.”

After a moment’s thought, Zhao Ge said at once: “Meng De, wait a few days while I recuperate. Then I’ll spar with you, so you can understand the strength of Qi-Opening martial artists. I’ll also teach you methods to toughen your skin and muscles, strengthen your tendons and bones. Your body still has great potential to unlock. If you retrace the martial path, you might be surprised.”

“Master, are you asking me to start cultivating martial arts from scratch? Won’t that take a long time?” Li Yi asked.

“For others, it might take ten years. But you, Meng De, are extraordinary—you cannot be judged by ordinary standards. Perhaps ten days or half a month will suffice. How far you can go, I cannot predict.” Zhao Ge then asked: “Rong Niang, how many Blood-Energy Pills did we gather from these corpses?”

“Not many—only one hundred and twenty-one in total,” Rong Niang replied immediately.

Zhao Ge nodded: “Good. Keep eleven—we three will share them. The rest, give all to Meng De for training. Also, gather and count the silver and gold. Tomorrow, go to the market and buy more meat and medicine. Sell any swords, bows, crossbows, and horses you can—keep only five horses. Remember to burn off the golden seals on the horses’ hides, so enemies won’t track us.” Rong Niang nodded in agreement, already forming a plan.

“Blood-Energy Pills? What are those?” Li Yi asked curiously.

Rong Niang smiled: “Senior Brother, Blood-Energy Pills are for martial artists. They’re made by boiling rare herbs with precious birds and beasts, replenishing blood and qi, strengthening tendons and bones, aiding cultivation. But ordinary martial artists can’t afford them—each tiny pill costs ten taels of silver, enough for an ordinary family’s yearly expenses.”

“I see.”

Li Yi now understood—his master intended to concentrate all resources on him, to have him retrain in martial arts and rapidly increase his strength.

But then he remembered something: “Zhao Qian, bring me my backpack. I have some things inside that might be useful.”

“Yes, Yi Brother.”

Zhao Qian immediately rose from beside the fire and brought over the sniper rifle along with Li Yi’s backpack.

Li Yi took it, placed the rifle aside, unzipped the pack, and pulled out a bottle of Golden Nutrient Liquid, handing it over: “Master, try this. It’s what cultivators in my world consume. I don’t know how it compares to Blood-Energy Pills.”

Zhao Ge took it and couldn’t help but exclaim in wonder.

Such a large crystal glass bottle—the bottle alone was priceless, worth many taels of silver.

The medicine inside was strange: entirely golden, shimmering with specks of brilliance, like a concentrated elixir that had been simmered for ages but never solidified into a pill. It resembled the Extraordinary Water he had drunk before, but likely lacked its potency.

“Let me taste it.”

Zhao Ge had no doubt the medicine was dangerous—he merely feared his aged body couldn’t withstand such potent nourishment. So he took a cautious sip.

The taste was good, smooth, better than some city brews.

Zhao Ge closed his eyes and focused.

Moments later, he felt his hunger vanish.

Clearly, this medicine was very filling.

But then Zhao Ge was startled—his body was being nourished; old injuries were healing, his blood and qi were rising. He even felt his aging organs and viscera growing younger.

This was only a single sip. If he drank regularly, a martial artist’s body could be restored to peak condition—even extended lifespan.

Zhao Ge suddenly opened his eyes, his spirit visibly revived. He stared at the bottle of Golden Nutrient Liquid, his hand trembling slightly.

This was medicine that could extend life.

If word got out, it would be fiercely fought over.

Did Meng De drink this daily?

No wonder he had measured 150 years of yang life back in Ghost Street.

“Master, how’s the medicine? Is it good?” Skinny Monkey leaned over, curious: “Can I try a sip? See what it does?”

“This is top-grade medicine—far superior to Blood-Energy Pills. It heals wounds, strengthens blood and qi, nourishes tendons and bones, and fills the belly. Meng De, how many of these do you have?” Zhao Ge carefully resealed the bottle, then shot Skinny Monkey a sharp look.

He did not mention its life-extending properties—afraid of causing trouble.

Skinny Monkey, scowled, retreated.

“Master, I brought ten vials of Nutrient Liquid on this trip,” Li Yi replied.

“Ten vials of top-grade medicine, plus a hundred Blood-Energy Pills—that should be enough. Meng De, put it away. Each drop is precious—save it. Only you get it; no one else.” Zhao Ge handed the bottle back.

Li Yi did not take it. He smiled: “Master, keep this one. If you need more, just ask me. Right now, healing your body is most important. And in my world, this medicine isn’t rare—you can buy it with money. I just came to Xingzhou in a hurry and didn’t prepare well. Next time, I’ll bring several crates to offer you.”

Though each vial cost 100,000, his bank account held forty million—enough to buy many more.

Zhao Ge shook his head: “No. We have so little. Every bit used is gone. Until we rebuild the hall, we must use everything sparingly.”

“We may have little, but we can spare this one for you,” Li Yi said seriously. “Master, take it.”

“Father, just take it—it’s Yi Brother’s filial offering,” Zhao Qian immediately pulled Zhao Ge’s arm, deeply concerned for his health.

Rong Niang also urged: “Master, your body matters most. Don’t deny yourself food to save it. Senior Brother clearly sees this—he wants you to keep this vial. When everything improves, we’ll have no lack.”

Persuaded by them, Zhao Ge no longer resisted. He sighed: “Fine. I’ll take this one vial. But I won’t hoard it alone—Rong Niang, Skinny Monkey, you two drink some too. It will help your injuries.”

“This… how can that be?” Rong Niang exclaimed.

Zhao Ge’s tone was firm: “It’s decided. You’re still young—you mustn’t leave hidden injuries that ruin your future path.”

Even as he counted every resource, he still set aside a portion for his injured disciples.

Li Yi watched, his heart uneasy.

But he understood—this was the way of survival in this world.

To survive, resources must be concentrated to produce one powerful martial artist.

Thus, everyone saw Li Yi monopolizing all resources as perfectly natural—no one felt wronged or resentful.