Chapter 381: Dark Night Thunder Reveals a Killing Intent

The oil lamp's flame flickered violently.

At the instant Li Ping'an crashed into the west wing room, they already saw the interior layout.

A plain desk, a hard board bed, and several stacks of documents piled in the corner.

Only the Shopkeeper's trace was nowhere to be seen.

A modest crack in the floor hinted at a secret—the Secret Door had just closed, and the dust marks were still fresh.

"Capture him!"

The short man's harsh shout rang out behind.

Four guards lunged like wolves and tigers, sealing the doors and windows.

Li Ping'an did not retreat but advanced.

Their figure suddenly lowered, the Eight Extremes Fist "Squat Mountain Stance" grounding the lower body, the left arm like an iron bar blocking, stopping the first charging guard with a chopping palm.

Bang!

A muffled thud of flesh and bone.

The guard felt his arm hit an iron stake, searing pain piercing his heart.

Li Ping'an used the momentum to twist forward, the right elbow thrust out like a cannonball, striking the opponent's chest.

The guard was flung backward, crashing into the desk.

The oil lamp tipped over, the flame licked the documents, and fire flared instantly.

"Extinguish the fire!" someone shouted.

Amid the chaos, the short man arrived.

Though short, his speed was astonishing; a pair of palms black as ink, carrying a foul wind, struck at Li Ping'an's rear heart.

Poison Palm!

Li Ping'an felt a chill down their spine, and without turning knew the palm could not be met.

The Carefree Step "Shift Form and Position" unfolded, the figure sliding three feet like a ghost.

The Poison Palm struck empty air, landing on the wall.

Zila—

Two palm imprints were etched into the blue brick wall, black smoke billowing.

What a poisonous technique!

Li Ping'an's gaze tightened.

This short man was far from an ordinary guard; he was a rare poison master in the jianghu.

"You've got some skill," the short man sneered, his palms twisting as he lunged again.

The palm wind whistled, the stench spreading.

Li Ping'an dared not meet it directly, planting their feet on the Bagua positions, circulating with Tai Chi "Cloud Hands".

The palm shadows were heavy, yet each time they neared the hem of their robe, they were deflected by soft force.

Like willow fluff in the wind, without a trace of force.

"Tai Chi?" surprise flashed in the short man's eyes, "From the Yang Lu Chan lineage?"

Li Ping'an gave no reply.

Their thoughts shifted rapidly.

The cramped interior amplified the Poison Palm's power.

They must break out to the courtyard.

With that in mind, they abruptly changed technique.

The Eight Extremes Fist "Fierce Tiger Hard Climbing Mountain" erupted at full force, a punch blasting toward the window.

The fist wind hammered like a mallet, the wooden window shattered on impact.

Amid the scattering shards, Li Ping'an leapt out.

"Trying to leave?"

The short man shadowed them, the Poison Palm aiming straight for their neck.

Floating in midair, with nowhere to leverage.

Li Ping'an seemed to have anticipated, twisting the waist, forcibly rotating half a circle in the air.

Both palms met.

But it wasn't a hard collision.

Tai Chi "Using Force to Counter Force"!

The instant the four palms connected, Li Ping'an's arm coiled like a lithe snake, redirecting the Poison Palm's force to their side.

The short man felt the force miss, his body involuntarily stalling.

Li Ping'an used that stalled force, floated down, standing steadily on the courtyard's blue stone slab.

Moonlight spilled, reflecting the silhouettes of the two facing each other.

The four guards quickly encircled, yet dared not rush forward.

That brief clash earlier made them understand—this was not a battle they could intervene in.

【6】 "What a four‑ounce lever moving a thousand pounds," the short man said slowly as he stepped out of the west wing room, his face grim, "But do you think reaching the courtyard lets you escape?"

"What a feat of moving a thousand catties with four taels!" The short man slowly walked out of the west wing room, his face grim, "But do you think that just getting into the courtyard means you can escape?"

He clapped his hands.

From the wall edge and roof, six more dark silhouettes appeared.

Each exhaled a lingering aura, eyes sharp.

Together with the original four, there were a full ten masters.

Plus this poison master.

The Shopkeeper's guard strength is indeed not simple.

Li Ping'an's gaze swept over the entire venue.

Yet his heart was unusually calm.

He even felt like laughing.

Such a lineup, they really think highly of him.

'Surrender and I'll leave you a whole corpse.' The short man said lightly, 'Otherwise, the taste of dying from poison is not pleasant.'

Li Ping'an finally spoke.

His voice, muffled by the mask, was somewhat blurry yet clear to the ear.

'Those who talk too much usually die quickly.'

The short man's face darkened.

'Courting death!'

He suddenly moved.

This time, his speed was one-third faster than before.

His palms were black as ink, gleaming with an eerie luster in the moonlight.

Before the palms arrived, a fishy wind already blew onto his face.

Li Ping'an did not retreat or dodge.

He actually stepped forward to meet the poisonous palm!

'Arrogant!' The short man's eyes flashed with a fierce light, and his palm force increased by another third.

Just as the palms were about to strike Li Ping'an's chest——

Li Ping'an's body suddenly trembled.

Like a candle in the wind, flickering unsteadily.

The poisonous palm brushed past his cuff, missing by a hair's breadth.

The short man's palm force had spent itself; he secretly thought it was not good.

Li Ping'an's fist had already arrived.

Baji Quan's Striking Heart Elbow!

The elbow was like an iron awl, thrusting straight into the vital point.

In haste, the short man raised his arm to block.

Crack!

The sound of the arm bone breaking was sharp and piercing.

The short man let out a muffled groan, stepped back three paces, and his face turned deathly pale.

He lowered his head to look.

His right arm hung limp, already broken.

'You…' His eyes finally showed shock.

That elbow just now—its timing, angle, and force—were perfect to the finest degree.

This is certainly not something an ordinary master could produce.

'All together!' the short man hoarsely shouted.

Ten guards lunged forward at once.

Blade light, fist shadows, and leg gusts intertwined into a net.

Li Ping'an, however, was like a fish entering water.

Tai Chi intent circulated throughout his body, every inch of muscle sensing the changes in airflow.

When the blade arrived, he sidestepped.

When the fist came, he dissipated the force.

When the leg swept, he maneuvered.

He weaved through the ten-person siege, actually as leisurely as a stroll in a courtyard.

Occasionally striking out, someone would surely fall.

Either joints dislocated or acupoints sealed, losing combat ability.

Not harming their lives, yet making it hard for them to rise again.

The short man watched, heart pounding with fear.

This masked person's martial arts have reached perfection.

Even more terrifying is his composure.

It seems this is not a life-and-death battle, but rather… a lesson?

That thought sent a chill through the short man's heart.

He gritted his teeth, reached into his bosom with his left hand, and produced a small porcelain bottle.

He bit open the stopper with his mouth and poured the liquid inside into his mouth.

Gulp.

His Adam's apple rolled.

The next second, his bones exploded with sound all over, and his broken right arm was forcibly lifted.

His skin flushed with an abnormal reddish hue.

His eyes were filled with bloodshot lines.

"Burning Blood Secret Technique?" Li Ping'an finally showed a reaction.

It is a jianghu forbidden technique that trades life for a rapid, short‑term surge in internal strength.

The short man was fighting desperately.

"Die for me!"

The short man roared and lunged.

Speed and strength were each more than twice as strong as before.

His palms were as black as ink, and the foul stench was several times stronger.

The gust of his palms left shallow etchings on the bluestone slabs.

Li Ping'an held nothing back.

The Tai Chi surged to its peak.

He slowly raised both hands, as if cradling Tai Chi.

The short man's poisonous palm had reached his chest.

Li Ping'an neither dodged nor avoided.

His hands, like Lan Quei Wei, gave a gentle pull.

The short man only felt a soft force coil around his arms, and the poisonous palm's power vanished like a mud‑laden ox sinking into the sea.

He tried to withdraw his palm, but it was already too late.

Li Ping'an flipped his hands.

The short man's whole body was lifted off the ground, spinning three times in the air like a top.

Bang!

He crashed heavily onto the bluestone slab.

Fresh blood spewed wildly from his mouth.

The backlash of the Burning Blood Secret Technique arrived.

He curled up on the ground, his skin withering visibly, and in an instant he aged twenty years.

The light in his eyes dimmed rapidly.

"You... who exactly are you..." he asked hoarsely.

Li Ping'an gave no answer.

His gaze turned toward the west wing room.

The Shopkeeper escaped through the Secret Door.

But beneath the Secret Door, there must be a Secret Passage.

Where does the Secret Passage lead?

He must know.

He strode toward the west wing room.

The remaining few guards still tried to block him, but he casually knocked them down.

The firelight inside had gone out, leaving only a lingering burnt smell.

Li Ping'an arrived at the Secret Door, crouched, and inspected.

The mechanism was intricate, but for him it was not difficult.

His fingers felt along the edge of a crack for a moment, finding the trigger.

He pressed lightly.

Click.

The Secret Door slid open, revealing stone steps descending.

Deep and dark.

A cold wind surged up from below.

Li Ping'an did not hesitate, darting inside.

The Secret Door closed behind him.

The stone steps were long.

The deeper he went, the air grew more chilling.

After descending about thirty steps, a Tunnel appeared ahead.

It was built of blue bricks, wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

Every ten steps along the wall a oil lamp was set, its wick burnt out, clearly unused for a long time.

Li Ping'an placed light footfalls, extending his Divine Perception forward.

The Tunnel was straight; about a hundred meters later, there was a fork.

He chose the left one.

Because fresh footprints were on the ground.

After walking about a quarter hour, faint water sounds came from ahead.

And also... voices.

Li Ping'an restrained his breath and crept along the wall.

The Tunnel's end was a natural cavern.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, water droplets pattering down.

In the center lay a cold pool, its water deep and dark.

The Shopkeeper stood at the pool's edge, his back to the Tunnel's direction.

Two people were still standing in front of him.

One was tall and broad, dressed in official attire, but his aura was dark and fierce.

The other was lean, his eyes like a hawk's.

The three seemed to be arguing.

"We must deal with it as soon as possible!" the Shopkeeper's voice was impatient, "They've already become suspicious over there; Zhou Laotouzi has been acting frequently lately."

"What's the hurry?" the tall man sneered, "They have no evidence. That kid Li Ping'an was suspended; he can't stir up any trouble."

"You've underestimated him," the Shopkeeper shook his head, "Someone just slipped into my residence, with extremely high martial skill. I suspect it was him."

The skinny man spoke, his voice hoarse: "If it is him, we must not keep him. Find a pretext and make him disappear."

"It's not that simple," the Shopkeeper gave a wry smile, "Zhou Laotouzi treats him like a treasure and watches him closely. Moreover... I always feel he's investigating us in secret."

The three fell silent.

Inside the cave, only the sound of dripping water could be heard.

Li Ping'an held his breath, his heart trembling.

He recognized that tall man.

He was the head of a certain municipal department, a position of considerable rank.

Although the skinny man was unfamiliar, his bearing showed he was no ordinary person.

The Shopkeeper's network was deeper than he had imagined.

"That list must be transferred," the Shopkeeper suddenly said, "Leaving it at the old place is no longer safe."

"Where to transfer it?" the tall man asked.

"I've decided," the Shopkeeper pulled a sheet of paper from his coat, unfolded it, "The new location is here. Write it down, then burn it."

Li Ping'an's gaze hardened.

The list!

He had to see it.

But the distance was too great; he couldn't make out the paper's contents.

While he was pondering, the Shopkeeper suddenly turned his head toward the Tunnel direction.

"Who?!"

Li Ping'an felt a chill in his heart.

Exposed?

No, the Shopkeeper's gaze didn't focus; he merely scanned the area with suspicion.

"What's the matter?" the tall man asked.

"I just have a feeling... someone's there," the Shopkeeper frowned, "Besides the three of us, no one knows this place. It could be an illusion."

He withdrew his gaze and handed the paper to the tall man.

"Write quickly."

Opportunity!

Li Ping'an silently invoked a mental transmission.

Divine Perception coalesced into a line, like an invisible tendril, silently reaching toward the paper.

The handwriting on the paper vividly manifested within Divine Perception.

One name after another, one position after another, shocking to the eye.

Li Ping'an forced himself to endure the shock in his heart and deliberately memorized it.

Thirty-seven names.

Covering multiple departments, and even...

He dared not think further.

"Did you write it down?" the Shopkeeper asked.

"Mm," the tall man nodded, pulling out a match.

Snort—

The flame flared, the paper turned to ash and fell into the cold pool.

"Split up and go," the Shopkeeper said, "Old rule: contact again after half a month."

The three each walked toward different branches of the cavern.

Li Ping'an did not give chase.

With the list in hand, the immediate priority was a safe withdrawal.

He slowly stepped back, retracing his original path.

His steps were light as a cat's.

When he returned to the west wing, the courtyard was empty of living people.

The guards were either knocked down or died from poison, sprawled haphazardly across the ground.

The short man curled up in the corner, his breath already gone.

The backlash of the Burning Blood secret technique claimed his life.

Li Ping'an did not linger; he scaled the wall and left.

The night remained deep and heavy.

He raced through the alleys, his heart in turmoil.

That list...

The Shopkeeper's network had, astonishingly, infiltrated to that extent.

We must promptly inform Zhou Zhengwei.

But how to transmit it?

Can the previous channel still be used?

The Shopkeeper, frightened tonight, will surely tighten security.

All possible means of contact could be monitored.

He needs a new method.

While pondering, two figures suddenly flashed out at the alley entrance ahead.

Blocking the way.

Li Ping'an's steps halted.

His hand was already on his waist.

There he concealed three copper coins, which could serve as hidden weapons if needed.

In the moonlight, the two people's faces grew clearer.

Li Ping'an's pupils contracted slightly.

An acquaintance.

And moreover, an unexpected acquaintance.

The night wind swept through the alley, bringing the chill of late autumn.

Faint rooster cries came from afar.

The sky is brightening quickly.