Chapter 12: Supreme Prodigy

In the thick night, a crimson dragon stretched its body, coiling through the void and lowing softly; crimson fire flowed across the sky, illuminating the darkness, while in Guanyi City, the Emperor of Chen’s trusted ministers stared into the night, their faces pale beneath the flames.

They stood motionless, like lifeless puppets.

The crimson scales spread open like maple leaves drifting down beneath an autumn sunset, streaming fire across the heavens.

Yue Qianfeng patted Li Guanyi on the head and burst into loud laughter:

“There—that’s called erasing all traces.”

“It’s General Zhuge Ying’s favorite move: kill, loot, erase the corpse—leave nothing behind. He’s best at stacking Tartar skulls into a kenguan with a spade. Too many fake-death pills and techniques in the martial world—stab the heart and they still come back. Burning’s more reliable.”

“By the way, here’s your share.”

Yue Qianfeng pulled off a sack and tossed it to Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi opened the sack and found round balls of gold and silver.

Yue Qianfeng grinned: “Night Riders don’t carry gold or silver on missions, but to handle special cases, we hollow out the hilt and stash a tael or two of gold inside, and the silver ornaments on the scabbards are pure silver.”

“This is your cut, accomplice.”

Li Guanyi said: “But I didn’t do anything.”

Yue Qianfeng looked at him, grinning:

“It’s not about what you did. To me, ‘accomplice’ means we shared the same risk. If so, we split the gains. You can’t shoulder the danger together and take all the gold for yourself—that’s not an accomplice, that’s a thief, hahaha.”

“But these gold pieces are mixed with Crimson Essence—they’re worth more. The silver’s too pure; without the right status, spending it could bring trouble. Since the Night Riders are dead tonight, you’d better dig a hole and bury them. Dig them up in a few years—you’ll have enough to live on.”

“This wrist device only fires once—throw it away too, or it’ll cause trouble.”

“All lingering traces here have been wiped clean. I’ll lure those spies elsewhere. You leave quickly.”

Yue Qianfeng turned and waved his hand, striding off.

Before his voice faded, Li Guanyi saw no trace of Yue Qianfeng.

The earlier noise vanished instantly into dead silence.

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze, studying the gold in the sack.

Five taels of gold, forged by Yue Qianfeng’s inner power into a single bead. Gold prices fluctuate—sometimes eight taels of silver per tael, sometimes twenty, but usually ten to thirteen.

Besides the gold, there were over thirty taels of silver, heavy and solid.

Roughly sixty or seventy strings of cash—Li Guanyi would need to work six years without eating or resting to save that much.

The boy’s eyes burned with heat, then ached with sudden pain.

Six years’ wages, deposited overnight! “Instantly rich—too bad I can’t spend it.”

Li Guanyi rolled the bead in mud and water until it became a dirty lump, then tossed it straight into the dry well beside the Mountain God’s shrine—filled with broken stones, the bead was utterly unremarkable. Li Guanyi remembered Yue Qianfeng saying the traces here were gone; this was the safest place.

If I took it home and the whole city searched, wouldn’t I be caught red-handed?

Wait till the heat dies down, then come back and dig it up! I can rent a better house—swap one meat meal per ten days for three.

The rain had stopped. A silver moon hung overhead, casting the earth in stark white. Looking up, Li Guanyi saw wisps of cloud drifting past the moon, dark clouds surging like colossal beasts. He lowered his gaze, stepped forward, kicked off his muddy, rain-soaked shoes, and walked backward holding a branch, sweeping his footprints flat until they blended with the surrounding earth.

After painstakingly erasing all traces, he finally relaxed once he reached the main road.

He hurried through narrow alleys at night, turned several corners, and far ahead spotted a dim yellow light—the small rented courtyard still glowed. The wooden gate hung half-open. Somehow, the tension that had gripped Li Guanyi all night dissolved the moment he saw that single light in the darkness.

Li Guanyi pushed the door open gently. His aunt’s room still had a lamp lit. He didn’t wake her, but made his footsteps slightly louder—enough to let her know he’d returned.

He went to his own small room and saw a small black iron pot on the table, steaming with ginger soup. On the bed lay a clean set of clothes.

Li Guanyi grinned, swiftly stripped off his soaked, bloody, muddy clothes, washed himself with water from the basin, put on the clean garments, then picked up the iron pot and drained the hot ginger tea in one gulp.

A hot current surged through his body; Li Guanyi shuddered.

The tension of killing in the rainstorm, training, then sneaking back—gone.

Blissful!

He balled up the clothes and threw them into the stove. Watching them burn away into warmth, Li Guanyi exhaled, lay on the bed, and felt a quiet relief—he was glad he’d worn his oldest, most worn-out outfit today.

Burning it didn’t hurt.

We’re rich now!

No regret, no regret! Just a few hundred cash!

Lately, to win Yue Qianfeng’s favor, I spent most of the money I saved working as an apprentice at Huichun Hall. Now I’ve barely a few hundred cash left—barely enough to scrape by for half a month. This burned outfit was torn, but at least I can get some coins for it.

He touched the bronze ding on his chest, saw crimson light swirling across its surface, as if something was beginning to form—but he didn’t activate it yet. He moved his hand away, closed his eyes, and reviewed today’s events: Break Army Eight Blades, Break Formation Melody.

He’d killed two Night Riders with his own hands.

The bronze ding…

It all felt like a dream.

He clenched his fist, closed his eyes again, and sat in meditation. He felt the warm current flowing through his body. Slowly, the boy’s spirit calmed. After a stick of incense, he circled his Qi two and a half times—then he clearly felt a growing sluggishness. His circulation slowed further, until it nearly ceased.

This meant even if he trained nonstop all day, his progress would be negligible.

Li Guanyi opened his eyes.

He was certain his innate constitution was abysmally poor.

Yue Qianfeng was coarse and ruthless, clearly terrible at comforting others—his face and words were just like a teacher telling a child, “Keep trying, you’ll still pass.” But over the years, Li Guanyi had read countless medical texts and knew his own condition.

Noble youths are nurtured from birth with medicinal tonics and perfect nutrition, just like children born after the 2000s in his past life—strong and healthy. But he had been afflicted since childhood by a deadly poison that recurred in fits, leaving him three or four tenths weaker than ordinary people, let alone compared to martial clans.

But…

There’s still this.

Li Guanyi’s gaze lowered to the bronze ding on his chest. He gently stroked it. Now, when his consciousness touched the ding, for the first time, it responded differently.

The bronze ding seemed to tip over.

Crimson jade liquid poured out, flowing straight into Li Guanyi’s body.

BOOM!!! Intense heat, searing pain—as if he’d been thrown into molten lava. Boundless heat threatened to drown him. But ten years of poison outbreaks had hardened his tolerance. He held onto his sanity. A soothing warmth entered his vision—he closed his eyes but saw a brilliant crimson glow.

Li Guanyi instinctively opened his eyes—and what he saw froze his mind.

The Crimson Dragon!

A colossal crimson dragon stood inside the tiny, dilapidated room.

Its scales gleamed like jade, its horns extended, its claws trod empty air, its tail stretched like a river, flowing into the jade liquid pouring from the ding. In the room, the plain-brown-clad boy sat on a stone bed, one leg bent, the other stretched out. His chest garment slowly burned. The crimson dragon nearly burst through the walls, coiled, gazing down. Crimson, luminous energy swirled in the air.

“This… is…”

“The dragon behind Yue Qianfeng?”

Li Guanyi murmured, then suddenly recalled the ding’s activation requirement—and understanding struck him. The next instant, the crimson dragon let out a silent roar, shook its head, and charged straight at Li Guanyi. His pupils shrank.

The crimson dragon surged into his body. Li Guanyi was flung backward, falling into an endless ocean.

In an instant, torrents of immense heat flooded into him.

Visions flashed before his eyes.

Vast battlefields, endless slaughter—men staked their lives on blades, charging into war, killing or being killed. Then came a deafening dragon’s roar. A mighty general in black armor gripped a dragon-like warhorse with one hand, the other wielding a long halberd, sweeping it horizontally.

His sleeves billowed like waves; dozens of heads flew skyward.

The general charged left and right, his halberd cleaving—clearly the Break Army Eight Blades.

In his daze, Li Guanyi felt as if he were that invincible general, wielding the Break Army Eight Blades, while the heat in his body surged wildly—complex beyond measure—but he could only recognize the pattern of the Break Formation Melody.

It was him. It was me.

At that moment, Li Guanyi’s intuition struck—he held fast to the clarity of his spirit.

His body sat cross-legged, following the dragon’s memory to circulate the technique.

Before, he needed a full stick of incense to complete three circuits. Now, he moved like a blazing meteor—hundreds of circuits in a single breath. The first level of the Break Formation Melody shattered instantly!

Second level of the Break Formation Melody—broken! Third level—broken! Fourth level—broken!…

The jade liquid in the ding ran dry, just as the dreamlike battle faded. The crimson dragon slowly vanished. When Li Guanyi opened his eyes, dawn’s first light glowed on the horizon. His internal Qi now flowed powerfully.

Break Formation Melody—Twelfth Level.

Supreme martial art of the military school.

A genius might master it in three years; one with decent roots might achieve it in eight.

Li Guanyi.

One night—fully accomplished!

(End of Chapter)