Chapter 3: Minor Achievement

In the blink of an eye, a month passed.

The moon shone bright, the stars sparse.

Li Rui slowly opened his eyes and felt an unusual sensation in his lower body.

A pillar stood tall.

A long-missed feeling.

It seems martial training has indeed been effective.

During this time, aside from occasional visits to the stables, he spent every other moment locked in his room practicing, and the results were striking—he had secretly tested himself and found lifting a two-hundred-pound boulder no challenge at all.

A seventy-year-old man lifting two hundred catties? In his past life, he’d have been a park god.

The Eight Pieces of Brocade has no killing power, but great strength can still kill a man.

With Li Rui’s current strength, most of the Zhu family’s guards would be no match for him.

Li Rui first patrolled the stables, then practiced the Eight Pieces of Brocade four more times.

Only when a commotion outside the door startled him did he step out.

By the time Li Rui followed the noise to the front courtyard, he saw a group of servants gathered in a circle, faint cries of agony audible within.

Li Rui spotted Yang Yong immediately at the outer edge of the crowd.

“Old Yang, what’s going on?”

Yang Yong: “A new recruit stole something from the household and got caught red-handed. By the rules, he’s to get thirty lashes.”

No sooner had he spoken than Li Rui heard a heart-wrenching scream.

Through the crowd’s gaps, he saw a young man stripped to the waist, his back crisscrossed with bloody welts—horrifying to behold.

“Traitorous dog! I took pity on you and took you in, yet you dare steal? I’ll beat you to death!”

The Zhu family master raised his whip and brought it down hard.

A sharp crack!

The onlookers all flinched involuntarily.

Yang Yong: “This boy’s mother is gravely ill, so he sold himself to the Zhu household—he probably stole to sell for medicine. Sigh…”

He shook his head and said no more.

In the end, the young man was carried away unconscious by several guards, breathing shallowly, barely alive.

Li Rui was perhaps the calmest among them all.

He had seen too many such scenes in his decades of life—once a servant, your life belongs to your master; even if killed by them, the authorities won’t intervene. Death is meaningless.

“This is a world that devours men.”

At that moment, Yang Yong suddenly exclaimed: “Old Li, have you turned back the years? Your frame looks much firmer than before.”

He scanned Li Rui up and down, clicking his tongue.

He had once thought Li Rui’s request for the Eight Pieces of Brocade was a joke, but now he wondered if the old man was actually practicing.

Li Rui pulled out the Eight Pieces of Brocade manual from his robe: “Here, return it to you.”

Yang Yong took the manual, his surprise deepening.

“Old Li, you planning to wear me out too?”

Li Rui: “Don’t worry—I’m an expert at burying the dead.”

Yang Yong’s lip twitched. He feared he might actually outlive Li Rui—was the old man really going to bury him?

Reverse the Heavenly Law!

Li Rui returned to his room, recalling today’s scene.

Servants are still servants—no rights at all.

As his martial skill deepened, his consumption grew ever greater; the storage in the stable shed had long been emptied. Though he could sneak in small amounts daily, that only increased the risk of discovery by his masters.

Though the Zhu family master had grown up under his watch.

But if he broke the rules, the man would show no mercy—his predecessor, the former stable hand, was beaten to death over a sick horse.

Li Rui himself had buried the body.

“Looks like I’ll have to buy outside.”

Fortunately, the stable hand’s salary was generous, and he had little need to spend money in the Zhu household—he’d saved a good deal over the years, enough to last him a while.

Just thinking of his thirty taels of silver made him feel rich.

No wonder he’d heard some young girls in town loved to swindle old men.

Age brings knowledge the young never learn—like the existence of the black market.

The black market was founded forty years ago.

He had just buried the former stable hand then, becoming the Zhu family’s new stable hand. Back then, the black market was still orderly; many things only turned corrupt gradually.

The black market lay in a corner of Dongcheng, about fifteen minutes away.

At the entrance, two large men in black robes, clearly dangerous, blocked Li Rui without expression: “One copper coin entry fee. No fighting inside—violation means you bear the consequences.”

“Understood.”

Li Rui knew the routine well and pulled out a copper coin from his robe with practiced ease.

Though called a black market, it wasn’t as mysterious as legends claimed—just an unusual gathering of stalls, selling all sorts of goods. Some treasures might be found, but rarely.

Most vendors were nearby villagers selling chickens, eggs, and the like.

Though the black market collected entry fees, they were far lower than government tariffs. Ironically, its order was even better than the official market’s—many preferred it despite higher prices.

Truly illicit goods were invisible to ordinary people; only those who knew the underworld’s coded language could spot them.

Li Rui had come many times—he knew the black market inside and out.

Now, his appearance was vastly different from usual.

He wore a black cloth over his face, dressed in thicker clothes than before, even padded his shoulders to appear square and imposing—his age was unguessable, his demeanor unmistakably intimidating.

Though the Blood Tiger Gang guarded the market and nothing would happen inside, someone might still target him once he left.

Better to be cautious.

“Chickens, pork!”

Li Rui glanced at the nearest stall—he’d often bought meat here to improve his meals.

But today, his goal wasn’t meat—it was herbs.

Many herb collectors frequented the black market—he’d surely find something valuable.

As he searched for a herb stall, he suddenly spotted a familiar figure.

“Ma Yang?”

Li Rui hadn’t expected his own disciple to be here.

Ma Yang knew of the black market because Li Rui had told him—back when their master-disciple bond was still strong.

Li Rui had no intention of approaching or revealing himself. He quickly found a herb stall.

“Old brother, take a look—these are freshly gathered Morinda root, tonifies yang, strengthens tendons, guaranteed to work.”

He gave a knowing look.

In any era, men’s kidneys and women’s faces are where money flows most freely.

“I’ll take this, this, and this.”

To conceal his true age, Li Rui spoke as little as possible, deliberately altering his voice—the vendor noticed nothing amiss.

These herbs formed a formula called Yang Qi San.

He’d stolen the formula years ago while fetching medicine for the Zhu family master’s martial training.

He’d kept it memorized ever since—and now, finally, he could use it.

As he took the wrapped herbs from the vendor, Li Rui casually glanced at a lean man nearby, gazing up at the sky.

A scar marked his face—he looked dangerous.

He was being watched!

(End of Chapter)