Chapter 6: Snatching Stars in the Dark Night, Seizing Treasure from the Tiger

A few jin of marinated beef go down, plus two oil‑slick roasted fat chickens taken out; Li Ping'an slicks his lips, feeling the marrow in his bone seams surge outward. With Spiritual Spring as a base, the spatial food supply is sufficient, and on top of the frantic traveling and "work" lately… the effect is solid! The originally dry, skinny frame suddenly sprouts like fertilized crops, leaping upward; a ten‑year‑old looks as if he were fourteen or fifteen. The tattered jacket is strung tight, hiding underneath a hammer‑forged, steel‑wire‑like sinewy muscle.

Even more mysterious is the technique he forged while traveling. In his mind, fragments of street fights and cage bouts from the "Wild Wolf" gang mingle with the rock‑solid foundation of Baji Quan, and the post‑Spiritual Spring "enlightenment" that feels like a cheat, forcing him to devise a footwork. He calls it the Carefree Step—just a point of the toe, the body becomes as light as two taels of cotton; a distance of a dozen meters is covered with a "swish", landing quieter than a cat. Coupled with Baji Quan's close‑range short strikes and the fierce, pulse‑grabbing power, close combat? That's just a death sentence!

After eating and drinking his fill, he spent the night at a rundown carriage shop. At first light, Li Ping'an slipped into a back‑alley of Zhengzhou City where the three teachings and nine streams crowd together. The teahouse steamed, voices buzzed; at the restaurant entrance a cheap oil smell drifted, diners pressed their throats to speak, like mice gnawing wood.

His ears pricked, like a human radio, picking out useful words amid the noise:

"…To the north? By the railway? That spot is heavily guarded! I heard the warehouse is piled high with gear…"

"…Shh! Keep it low! Colonel Li Deng… he's the living Yan King of Zhengzhou City! Good stuff? Ha, his house can cram antiques and paintings into three rooms! Gold? That's a whole chest! Medical books? I heard he's scraped clean the ancestral formulas from several old apothecary stalls…"

"…A sin… those are the roots handed down by our ancestors…"

Li Deng? Li Ping'an held a bowl of Bangzi Noodle Porridge so thin it reflected his silhouette, his gaze turned cold. The name was etched in his mind. Antiques, gold, medical books… the roots of China! Let that old Japanese soldier take them? Damn!

His thoughts sank into the spatial realm. Good partner! During this period of "wild hunting" for supplies and "stocking up", the pigeon‑cage‑like hut has somehow expanded into a football‑field‑sized open space! Load up! Use all the force! It's perfect for relocating these treasures!

Plan set, stepping on the plate is crucial. Li Deng's residence? A conspicuous target! In north Zhengzhou City, adjacent to the railway, a high‑gate courtyard cordoned off by Japanese soldiers, with twin sentry posts at the entrance, bayonets flashing cold under the sun, and a patrol squad strolling with a big wolf dog. Defense? Like an iron barrel! Forced entry? That's a death sentence for an old immortal—too long‑lived!

"If it's hard enough to bite the teeth, then use a soft blade!" Li Ping'an crouched in the street‑corner shadow, gnawing on a marinated chicken foot that flowed smoothly in the spatial realm, his gaze laced with poison. Poison? He knows this job inside out! In his past life he fought black‑fist; he's seen every underhand trick in the ring—just lacking the material.

Zhengzhou City may be broken again, but the rat holes always exist. He moves like a mud loach, prowling around the shabby apothecary and junk stalls in the corners. His gaze is venomous, his tongue sharp, and with a few silver dollars pilfered from a second‑rank Japanese soldier, he quickly stuffs a few inconspicuous "materials" into his coat—finely ground Badiu powder and a small packet of what's said to make the whole body tingle and limp, the numb‑tendon herb residue.

Night fell like a massive black pot, tightly sealing Zhengzhou City. Li Deng's estate was even more dead silent, only the "clack‑clack" of patrol boots on the ground and the occasional low howl of the wolf dog drifting in the cold wind, nauseating.

Li Ping'an moved like a true shadow, sliding along the wall base. The Carefree Step unfolded; his toe touched the icy bricks, his body gliding like a wisp up the ten‑foot‑high courtyard wall, crouching in the shadow at the top, his breath as still as stone. His intent, like an invisible tide, "swished" across the Front Courtyard. Within twenty meters, the gate was clear!

Two gate sentries clutching rifles hunch and stamp their feet. A patrol squad just turned past the Moon Gate, their footsteps fading. From the kitchen direction came the clatter of a wok spatula and the scent of food—preparing a midnight snack for Li Deng?

Opportunity!

Li Ping'an, like a gecko, clung to the icy wall and slid down, landing silently. The Carefree Step reached its limit, his silhouette flashing through the shadows of columns and artificial rocks, so fast it left a phantom trail, ghost‑like reaching the base of the kitchen's back window. His intent slipped through the window crack.

Inside, chaos reigned! The plump chef barked and cursed, directing two apprentices: "…Move faster! The Lord's midnight snack! Miso soup! Tempura! Sake! If you delay, I'll skin you!"

On the stove, a steaming bowl of miso soup just came out, beside it an elegant sake flask.

Now! Li Ping'an's intent gathered, like the deftest fingertip, pulling the back‑window latch open from afar. The window opened a silent slit. He flicked his wrist; two tiny paper packets, like leaves blown by wind, drifted in with precision! Badiu powder sprinkled into the soup, numb‑tendon herb residue mixed with the sake! The powder, meeting heat and water, dissolved without a trace.

The window closed silently. Li Ping'an's silhouette vanished, as if he had never been there.

He didn't go far. Like a patient spider, he perched in the dense canopy of a large phoenix tree outside Li Deng's bedroom. The cold bit to the bone, yet he was steady as a rock, only his pupils flashing a faint glow in the darkness.

About half an hour later, Li Deng's distinctive, wine‑tinged and arrogant bird‑like chatter drew near. Two duty soldiers carefully carried the midnight snack, like tail‑chasing insects.

The bedroom door opened and closed. Li Ping'an's intent, like a maggot on a heel bone, clung tightly inside.

First the light clink of bowls and chopsticks, Li Deng's satisfied gulp. Then the faint sound of sake pouring into a cup. After a few cups, Li Deng's voice slurred, humming a folk tune. Suddenly!

"Uh…pfft!"

A strange noise, followed by a splattering vomit sound! Mixed with a painful low growl and some… indescribable splashing!

The medicine took effect! Badiu's violent diarrhea combined with the numb‑tendon herb's paralysis—enough to make that old Japanese soldier purge a whole pot!

A flash of cold light exploded in Li Ping'an's eyes! The moment arrived! He fell like a real leaf from the canopy, the Carefree Step activated, covering the dozen meters in an instant! His intent simultaneously pulled open the bedroom window latch!

Inside was a wreck! A foul stench filled the air! Li Deng, the lord who usually held his nose to the sky, now collapsed on the priceless carpet, his face green as spinach juice, his yellow military trousers filthy beyond repair, his whole body convulsing, fingers unable to lift. The two duty soldiers also slumped, foaming at the mouth—probably from Li Deng's "reward" of leftovers.

Li Deng's muddied, terrified eyes met Li Ping'an's, who had slipped in silently through the window and landed like a ghost.

"Ba…baga…" he croaked from his throat, full of terror and disbelief.

Li Ping'an's face showed no expression, his gaze icy enough to freeze a man. No idle talk, no superfluous moves. One step forward, the most explosive Baji Quan technique, the Standing Earth Heaven Cannon, roared out! The fist blade tore the air, wrapped in long‑suppressed national‑enemy hatred, smashing into Li Deng's throat!

Crack!

The sound of the throat bone shattering was crisp enough to nauseate. Li Deng's eyes bulged, all his resentment, fear and filth frozen on that twisted, gourd‑shaped face.

Li Ping'an didn't look at the spill on the floor; his gaze, like lightning, swept to Li Deng's waist. A finely crafted samurai sword with a gold‑thread‑wrapped hilt, a gem‑set short side‑sword, and a gold‑cased pocket watch—all fine items! He unhesitatingly, with a thought, made the sword, side‑sword, and watch vanish into the spatial realm. He also slipped away Li Deng's wallet and a decent‑looking jade pendant. A goose plucks its feather, a thief never leaves empty!

After ransacking the corpse, his gaze turned to the deep part of the room. Three massive iron doors were tightly locked! They could stop others, but not him! His intent coalesced like an invisible key, probing the lock, and a series of faint mechanical clicks rang out!

Clack! Clack! Clack!

The three iron doors swung open in response!

Even though Li Ping'an was prepared, the sight before him made his breath seize!

The first room, dazzling gold light! Gold bars stacked neatly, shimmering alluringly in the dim light! Gold ingots, golden Buddhas, golden bowls… piled into a small mountain! A sea of yellow, dazzling enough to make one's head spin!

The second room, a sea of cultural relics! Bronze wares glowed with a faint green antiquity, porcelain warm as jade, calligraphy and painting scrolls filled the shelves, and a few oddly shaped stone Buddhas stood there! Each item exuded the weight of history!

The third room, suffused with a faint medicinal scent. Row after row of antique shelves were packed with bound ancient books! The covers yellowed, pages thin and crisp, neat small‑script calligraphy noting titles like "Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases," "Compendium of Materia Medica" hand‑copied, "Qianjin Yi Fang"… many pages covered in vermilion annotations! These are the lifeblood of countless generations of physicians!

"Well… what a three‑foot‑deep plundering robber!" Li Ping'an's fury roiled in his chest, yet his movements were as swift as a phantom! No more delay, his intent spread like an invisible giant net, instantly enveloping the entire treasury!

Gold mountain? Got it!

Cultural mountain? Got it!

Book mountain? Got it!

Where his intent reached, the golden glow, treasure gleam, and book fragrance were devoured like a black hole, vanished completely! The three massive vaults instantly left only bare shelves and faint impressions of the wall hangings, clean as if licked by a dog three times!

Having finished, Li Ping'an lingered not a moment. His silhouette slipped out of the window like a phantom, and after a few bounds merged into the dark roofline. Behind him, Li Deng's estate remained dead silent, only the sky‑piercing stench drifting silently from the bedroom window crack.

The night in Zhengzhou City was black as ink. But some people's heavens were about to collapse. Li Ping'an carried a purse fatter than all of Zhengzhou, his gaze locked onto the northern railway tracks.

Train, Beiping, girl! Next stop, I'm coming!