Chapter 13: Assassination

Seeing the prompt, Li Hao’s heart felt no great joy.

He had long abandoned worldly ambition, pouring himself fully into it—and precisely because of this, he possessed the Chess Heart.

To use the Way of Chess to practice the Martial Way, treating chess as a mere tool—this idea he once held was now utterly unacceptable to him.

In fact, a surge within him urged him to directly spend this Art Point on the Way of Chess.

But that severed arm, that drinking man, restrained him from this thought.

Playing chess was important, the thing he now loved.

But some things had to be done—like tearing that Tiger Robe Immortal into a thousand pieces! Yet that was a fourth-stage great demon; reaching the fourth stage would take far more than a day or night.

The only thing he could do now was grow up quickly.

…

…

The Chess Heart was a state of mind, a condition.

After acquiring the Chess Heart, the following days saw Li Hao in the small courtyard once again immersed in ceaseless chess games.

But now, he played not for the meager experience gained at the end of a game, but truly savored the entire process of playing.

Every precise move, every layout, every thought filled him with deep obsession—like being utterly absorbed in a captivating game, unable to stop.

While eating, sleeping, watching the little girl practice swordplay, his mind always returned to chess.

This left Li Hao with little interest in anything beyond chess.

One day, Xuejian from Changchun Courtyard brought word that Lady had invited Bian Ruxue to join the General’s Mansion training ground.

That was where Li family heirs cultivated.

After age six, if not admitted to a famed mountain sect, one would enter the training ground for cultivation, taught uniformly by retired martial elites from the Li family’s military ranks.

Li Hao agreed. Though he could teach the little girl himself, he was only skilled in swordplay; at the training ground, she would learn not just sword techniques, but also cultivation methods, martial knowledge, and exposure to the outside world—all-round cultivation.

From that day on, after bowing to Lady each morning, Li Hao and the little girl parted ways—one returning to Shanhe Courtyard, the other sent to the training ground.

The training ground housed not only Li family direct descendants, but also illegitimate children and offspring of branch clans, totaling dozens; among them, only five were direct heirs—the same few who bowed to Lady with Li Hao each morning.

Bian Ruxue enjoyed the privileges of a Li family direct descendant, for she was Li Hao’s future fiancée, half a Li.

Direct descendants in the training ground were treated like stars around the moon, their status far surpassing that of illegitimate children—especially in cultivation resources during Foundation Establishment and Blood Melting, where the gap was at least one full tier.

Thus, the martial talent gap between direct and illegitimate heirs was vast.

As a result, most illegitimate youths in the training ground were teenagers, their talent ratings hovering between fourth and sixth grade—average aptitude, destined one day to govern a city as a garrison commander.

Illegitimate youths reaching seventh-grade talent received focused cultivation, enjoying resources nearly equal to those of direct heirs.

Upon entering the training ground, Bian Ruxue had officially embarked on the cultivation path.

At this moment, the terror of her Nine-Grade Battle Body became evident.

In just a few months, Li Hao saw the little girl had reached Tongli Realm, fourth layer.

Almost one layer per month—such speed was as effortless as eating and drinking.

Though this owed much to the Li family’s abundant cultivation resources lavished upon her, her talent, like a sponge, absorbing so much was itself a skill.

Meanwhile, the teenage youths in the training ground remained stuck at Tongli Realm’s eighth or ninth layer; within half a year, they would be overtaken by this little girl.

Li Hao, however, continued daily chess games in his courtyard, undisturbed; Lady did not require him to join the training ground. Li Hao understood her intent—she did not wish the direct heir to suffer humiliation there.

For beyond instruction, the training ground arranged sparring and competition to ignite the children’s martial drive.

Someone like Li Hao, with no martial talent, would inevitably suffer abuse; some children spoke without restraint, inevitably stirring conflict, possibly even reaching the elders’ ears—making things look bad.

Lady, acting as steward of the General’s Mansion, sought only peace.

Li Hao was content with this—he sought ease.

After all, martial training was merely a waste of time to him.

He had no interest in quarreling with those teenagers—it was too dull.

…

“You’ve played so many games and still haven’t learned? You’ve lost three times already with the same move!”

Li Hao scolded the retainer before him.

The retainer jumped, hastily rising and standing with hands clasped, trembling like a quail: “Young Master, please calm down.”

Now, Li Hao carried the aura of a young master; they no longer treated him as a child, dismissing his words.

“Your mind isn’t on the game at all. What are you thinking about?” Li Hao snapped.

The retainer inwardly groaned—he had always played this way before, and the young master never cared, finishing games quickly and even seeming pleased.

But recently, things had changed.

If he played poorly, the young master’s face darkened, making the retainer’s heart ache.

“Your chess is terrible. You’ve played with me for so long and made zero progress!” Li Hao growled.

The retainer begged for mercy; the other retainer, as if remembering something, stole a glance at Li Hao and said: “Young Master, I know someone who plays chess—I heard he’s a newly hired third-class retainer.”

“Oh?” Li Hao raised an eyebrow. “Where is he?”

“In the firewood shed, chopping wood.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Bring him here—I’ll test him.” Li Hao said at once.

“Yes, Young Master!” The retainer beamed and hurried off. Soon, a thin, wiry youth in retainer attire was brought before Li Hao.

“What are you standing there for? Bow to the Young Master!”

“Ah, yes, Young Master, may you be well.” The thin youth hurriedly knelt.

Li Hao waved slightly, signaling him to rise, then pointed at the board: “I hear you play chess. Play a game with me. If you play well, you’ll stay in Shanhe Courtyard as a first-class retainer, serving beside me.”

“Ah?” The thin youth was stunned—this sudden fortune was unimaginable. He froze, then burst into joy: “Thank you, Young Master! Thank you, Young Master!”

After speaking, he wiped his hands on his clothes and sat down before the board.

Quickly, the game was set—Li Hao held the white stones.

After seven or eight moves, Li Hao felt delight—the thin youth truly knew chess, and well.

Li Hao grew serious, playing without mercy.

In mere half a minute, the thin youth’s face turned pale, beads of cold sweat forming on his brow, fear flashing in his eyes.

Finally, his hand trembled slightly as he stared helplessly at the board, then at Li Hao, unable to believe such a small child could have such profound mastery.

“I lost.” The thin youth rose, his expression complex—resentment, and a faint, hidden ferocity, in his eyes.

Li Hao, however, was stunned.

Only upon hearing the youth’s words did he snap back, then laugh: “Good. Very good. From now on, you’re my first-class retainer. Stay with me—just play chess with me every day.”

The thin youth froze, staring at Li Hao in disbelief: “But… I lost.”

Li Hao smiled. Just now, after the game ended, the prompt granted him 20 experience points! Previously, playing with the two fools beside him, the maximum was 3 points—this gap was enormous.

Thus, it was clear: the higher the opponent’s skill, the more experience he gained—not merely by playing countless games.

“If every game gives 20 points, ten games equal 200. To reach 5,000 points, I need only 250 games. Even at ten games per day, that’s just one month.”

The more Li Hao thought, the more excited he became, looking at the thin youth with growing delight.

“If you can beat me, I’ll grant you ten thousand taels of gold!” Li Hao encouraged with a smile.

The thin youth froze, his body trembling with excitement.

Li Hao told him not to stand there—sit down and continue. He then ordered the two retainer to prepare his registration and transfer paperwork.

Thus, in the courtyard, Li Hao and the thin youth began game after game.

In the blink of an eye, half a month passed.

One night, after dinner, Li Hao summoned the thin youth for another match.

In the bedroom, beneath the night lamp, two figures—large and small—battled over the board.

“Young Master.”

As Li Hao concentrated on his move, he suddenly heard the thin youth call him.

But the tone was not the usual deference and flattery—it held an odd, calm stillness.

Li Hao turned, and saw a flash of cold light hurtling toward his face!

His pupils contracted; his body instinctively kicked back, retreating like lightning.

Before him, the thin youth—one hand resting on the board, the other still holding a dagger in a thrusting pose—his face filled with shock: he hadn’t expected the young master to dodge.

“Huh? You…”

Li Hao snapped back to reality—this had come too suddenly, with no warning.

Shock gave way to icy clarity; he spoke coldly: “Assassination? Who sent you?”

His mind instantly flashed to the woman in Shuihua Courtyard—but he quickly dismissed it. He was a useless one, no threat; no one in the courtyard would dare assassinate him.

“How did you…?” The thin youth’s mind was even more chaotic, more stunned. Wasn’t this child supposed to be a martial waste? For days, he’d watched Li Hao in the courtyard—never once had he seen him cultivate, not even a single time!

Li family heirs began rigorous training at age six.

Yet this “waste” spent his days playing chess, ignored by all.

The intelligence hadn’t been wrong—but it was wildly, catastrophically wrong!

Quickly, the thin youth reacted—he surged forward, unleashing terrifying speed, lunging straight at Li Hao.

He couldn’t let the child cry out—he glared with murderous intent.

But Li Hao’s thoughts mirrored his own.

The assassin must not be allowed to cry out—others would be alerted.

Kill!

Seeing the charging figure, Li Hao did not dodge—he planted his foot and shot forward like thunder, his small frame moving with a faint whistle of wind. As he closed the distance, he tilted his head slightly, watching the dagger slice past his eyes, then drove his fist straight into the man’s stomach.

Since beginning his cultivation, Li Hao had never fought anyone before.

This time, he unleashed nearly his full power.

A heavy thud, like a sack of sand hitting the ground, rang out; the thin youth’s eyes bulged wildly as his body curled like a shrimp, slammed backward, and crashed into the chess table.

Li Hao didn’t know how hard his punch had been, but since he could lift a false mountain weighing twenty thousand jin, this strike must have delivered at least several ten thousand jin of force.

As the thin youth was thrown back, Li Hao leapt forward swiftly, his small hand like an eagle’s talon, gripping the other’s throat as he hissed: “Don’t scream!”

The thin youth: “??? ”

(End of Chapter)