Chapter 13: I Will Only Train Wholeheartedly
Chapter 13: Chapter 13: I Will Only Train Wholeheartedly
’Huh? Did I walk too fast? That father and daughter didn’t keep up.’
With his mind completely on the ’Red Sand Palm’, Wu Chen moved swiftly through the bustling crowd.
By the time he reached the village’s central meeting point and looked back, he realized Liu Linshan and his daughter hadn’t followed.
He scanned the area but still couldn’t spot them.
Wu Chen figured that since Liu Linshan was injured and couldn’t move easily, he was probably waiting back in his room instead of coming out for the commotion.
Not seeing the pair, Wu Chen didn’t dwell on it and calmly turned his gaze to the open field.
In the center of the vast, grassy field, seven burly men with steel sabers hanging from their waists stood in a fan formation.
Their scabbards gleamed coldly under the morning sun, and the red silk wrapped around the hilts was dark and stained with sweat.
Combined with their powerful, burly frames, they exuded an oppressive aura that made it hard for the hundred-or-so gathered refugees to breathe.
A few steps behind this group of men, there was another small crowd of refugees.
These dozen or so people had turned in their grain the day before, earning Sun Sheng’s promised protection. As a result, they now stood on his side.
On a dead tree not far from the men’s position, several corpses hung, swaying gently in the wind.
’Looks like someone tried to resist, but it didn’t end well for them.’
Wu Chen’s brow twitched as he looked to the spot in front of the group of men.
A wooden chair was placed in the spot they all surrounded. A skinny man sat slouched in it, looking like he owned the place.
’That must be Sun Sheng.’ He glanced at the man’s arms but didn’t spot anything unusual.
’That’s a relief, though. If practicing it makes one’s arms all thick and muscular, I’d have no idea how to face people!’
Wu Chen coughed lightly, his ears perking up as he listened to the nervous chatter of the surrounding refugees:
"This pack of wolves. It was supposed to be that only people who wanted to give up their grain had to come, but they made all of us show up. I bet they’re going to kill someone to establish their authority again, maybe even force us to hand over our food," someone said.
"Exactly. They’re just a bunch of thugs and bullies, shameless degenerates," someone else chimed in.
"It’s just our bad luck that we ran into this group," another person said with a pained expression, sighing heavily.
As the noise from the crowd grew louder, Sun Sheng, who had been resting with his arms crossed and eyes closed, suddenly snapped them open.
His sharp, tiger-like gaze swept over the crowd like a bolt of lightning. The whispering refugees were instantly scared into silence, not daring to utter another word.
CLANG!
The refugees had all gathered, and the atmosphere was ripe.
At that moment, a scar-faced man stepped out from behind Sun Sheng, struck the ground hard with his sheathed saber, and said:
"No need for small talk. The rules are the same as yesterday. One pound of grain per person. If you want Master Sun’s protection on your way south, then get a move on!"
The moment he finished speaking, there was a stir in the crowd, and six or seven people emerged:
"Master Sun, brave sirs, I am willing to hand over my grain!"
"Me too!"
They walked toward the center of the field, carrying sacks of grain that had already been weighed out.
"Not bad."
The scar-faced man nodded, satisfied.
After handing over their grain, these few people went and stood in the crowd behind Sun Sheng.
In the moments that followed, no one else moved. The atmosphere grew quiet once more.
’Out of more than a hundred people, only seven handed over their grain?’
The scar-faced man’s face sank. He swept his gaze over the hundred-or-so refugees huddled together, a malicious glint flashing in his eyes.
"I take it the rest of you don’t need our protection, then?"
"Wasn’t this supposed to be voluntary?" a defiant voice called out from the crowd.
After that voice spoke, the quiet field once again erupted with noise as countless people chimed in:
"That’s right! We don’t have any more grain, and we don’t need your protection!"
"We can make our own way! As for the Demon Corpses lurking outside the village, we’ll each have to trust in our own fate!"
"..."
Many of the refugees were already running out of grain. Giving any more away now would be a death sentence, so there was no way they would willingly hand it over.
They would rather eat and drink their fill and fight it out with the Demon Corpses. It would be more satisfying to die on a full stomach.
"Voluntary? Of course it’s voluntary!"
The scar-faced man was stunned for a second, but then his lips curled into a sneer. He tightened his grip on his large saber and said, "But there’s a score we need to settle properly!"
"A score? What score?" the person who had led the outcry asked.
"Hmph. The score for protecting the village last night, of course!"
The scar-faced man looked in the direction of the voice and saw that the troublemaker was a gaunt-looking young man, his own eyes full of impatience.
But in order to have a legitimate reason to demand the grain, he controlled his temper and announced loudly:
"Last night, you were all able to rest easy, your lives safe and sound, all thanks to our dozen-plus brothers who stood guard the entire night."
"If we hadn’t driven off the Demon Corpses that came to attack, you all would have been swallowed whole in your sleep long ago!"
"So, you owe us for a night of hard work, don’t you?"
"???"
A million question marks popped into Wu Chen’s head.
’If you drove off the Demon Corpse last night, then what did I kill?’
’I clearly remember there wasn’t even a single lookout at the village entrance when I arrived last night. What kind of all-night guard duty is that?!’
But he quickly caught on. The all-night guard duty, driving off Demon Corpses... it was all a load of crap.
These people didn’t have the guts to kill a Demon Corpse.
But they did have the guts to threaten people into giving up their grain in the name of killing Demon Corpses. Not just guts, but a whole lot of it!
"We won’t ask for much for our trouble."
The scar-faced man glanced around and named a price,
"Our Master Sun is a benevolent man and doesn’t want to make things hard on you. You each only need to hand over half a pound of rations."
"As for anyone who dares to refuse, well, the consequences..."
He shot a menacing look at Wu Chen, who had been the one instigating the questions, and strode toward him.
"We’ll start collecting the grain with you, kid!"
He could clearly see that Wu Chen wasn’t carrying a pack.
Which meant he obviously couldn’t hand over any grain.
That’s why he intended to kill Wu Chen to make an example of him.
He had already killed three troublemakers like Wu Chen yesterday!
Today, Wu Chen would be the fourth.
Once they saw some blood, who among these people—all merely at the second or third layer of the Body Tempering Realm—would dare refuse to hand over their grain?
"Your grain, kid. Where is it?" he asked, gripping his hilt and looking down on Wu Chen as he slowly raised his blade.
Wu Chen shook his head and answered truthfully, "I don’t have any..."
WHOOSH!
The last word had barely left Wu Chen’s mouth when the sound of sharp wind cut through the air.
The scar-faced man’s large saber came chopping straight down at his head.
"He’s making his move!"
"There’s going to be blood!"
A wave of gasps erupted from the surrounding crowd. Some had already sensed that the young man’s repeated questions had angered Scarface, and that he was unlikely to escape his doom today.
Many turned their heads away early, unable to bear watching the scene.
After all, Scarface had killed several people yesterday. The strongest among them hadn’t even lasted three moves against him.
A sense of dread filled everyone’s hearts, and they wondered if they would even survive the day.
Facing the incoming blade, Wu Chen was surrounded on all sides and had no room to dodge.
Not that he had any intention of dodging.
With a calm expression, he shot out a vicious kick.
There was nothing flashy about the kick. It was straight and direct, yet it landed with pinpoint accuracy on the scar-faced man’s stomach.
It almost looked as if the man had intentionally run into the kick himself.
In that instant, the scar-faced man’s body convulsed as if struck by lightning, and he immediately doubled over.
His organs churned, and blood rushed to his head. He was bent like a cooked shrimp.
BAM!
The kick contained the potent aura of the Flesh Refining Realm and was backed by twelve hundred jin of force.
Furthermore, the speed from his Great Success Spiritual Snake Step made Wu Chen’s kick seem like a small snake flicking its tongue—it started later but arrived first!
The scar-faced man had only just raised his saber into the air when his entire body curled up. Like a fallen leaf caught in a gale, he was sent flying backward uncontrollably.
His body shot back straight as an arrow, hurtling directly toward Sun Sheng on his chair!
The scene left everyone stunned.
"Th-this... how is this possible?"
"One kick? It only took one kick!"
"That kid was hiding his strength!"
"There’s no way Scarface survived that!"
Watching as Sun Sheng casually batted Scarface’s lifeless body aside with a single palm, the crowd erupted into a fresh wave of gasps.
Over a hundred pairs of eyes fell on Wu Chen in unison, all filled with utter disbelief.
After all, anyone who managed to survive the flight here had some level of Martial Arts training.
In their eyes, how could a scrawny-looking young man possibly erupt with such tremendous power!
But in Wu Chen’s eyes, all of this was perfectly natural.
It wasn’t that he had become so strong, but that Sun Sheng and his men were just too weak.
He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he had entered the Flesh Refining Realm, he could easily spot the difference when observing Sun Sheng and his men up close.
Perhaps because his understanding of Martial Arts was becoming more adept, he could easily tell from the minions’ expressions and movements that their gazes were shifty and their steps were unsteady.
A single glance told him their Qi and Blood was unstable and their physiques lacked a solid foundation.
Even if they were at the seventh or Eighth Layer of the Body Tempering Realm, it was a level achieved through ten or twenty years of inconsistent, start-and-stop training.
’They were nothing like me, who single-mindedly and diligently practiced by adding points on my panel!’