Two fists collided in front of the watching crowd with a sharp crack.
Feng Hao stumbled back three steps.
But Yang Kui, a fourth-rank Martial Apprentice, staggered back five or six paces.
His face flushed crimson.
An eighteen-year-old fourth-rank Martial Apprentice—and he had been beaten by a waste.
The pain in his fist faded.
What remained was pure shame.
If word spread that he had lost to a waste, he would never be able to hold his head up again.
“Damn you!”
His handsome face twisted.
He gathered all his strength and hurled himself at Feng Hao.
“Enough!”
A cold shout rang out.
A gust of wind sent Yang Kui tumbling to the ground.
His expensive clothes were covered in dust and mud.
Someone had notified Feng Chen.
Yang Kui’s four guards shielded him, eyeing the arrival warily.
They knew who he was—one of Yulan City’s strongest men.
“Father.”
Feng Hao relaxed at the sight of him.
“Let’s go.”
Feng Chen said nothing.
He shot Yang Kui a cold glance and led Feng Hao away.
“Feng Hao!”
Feng Hao turned at the call.
“At the four-clan new blood competition in two weeks—I’ll make you kneel.”
Standing behind his guards, Yang Kui glared at Feng Hao.
His voice dripped with venom.
“Is that so?”
Feng Hao’s lips curled slightly.
He turned and walked away without another word.
Clearly, Yang Kui was no longer a threat.
Feng Hao’s control over his strength had improved several times over since learning the Tiger Movement Chapter.
When the gap was small, brute force alone wasn’t enough.
And in two weeks, Feng Hao was confident he would break through to the fourth rank.
Back in his courtyard, he didn’t practice.
Instead, he went straight to his room.
He closed the door, climbed onto his bed, and took out the herbs he had bought.
“Master.”
He called softly toward the ring.
“What?”
Burning Elder’s voice came through, sounding impatient.
“I bought the herbs.
How do I use them?”
Feng Hao asked hesitantly.
“Eat them directly.”
“Eat them?
But—”
“The canon will absorb them on its own.”
Feng Hao picked up a Clarity Grass.
He hesitated, then closed his eyes and shoved the whole plant into his mouth.
He chewed hastily and swallowed.
A cool sensation slid down his throat.
In a daze, he saw the Divine Farmer’s Canon inside his body slowly open.
It emitted a faint pull, drawing the medicinal energy toward it.
A barely visible wisp of green smoke coiled above the canon.
“That’s all?”
His mouth twitched.
Without hesitation, he chewed and swallowed the remaining two Clarity Grass plants and the two lengths of Fire Vine.
A few more wisps appeared above the canon.
“Is this even useful?”
Feng Hao doubted.
He looked at the ring.
“Try it and find out.”
Burning Elder’s voice was brusque.
Feng Hao wasn’t stupid.
He jumped off the bed, opened the door, and went into the courtyard.
He began practicing the Tiger Movement Chapter.
Within moments, sweat poured down his small face.
“Twenty-nine…
thirty…”
He barely managed thirty cycles before collapsing, completely spent.
“Let me try.”
He focused his mind.
The wisps above the canon began to move.
As they slowly dissolved, a wave of cool energy flowed through his body.
In an instant, his strength returned.
“It works!”
Joy surged through him.
He pushed himself up and resumed practice.
But his happiness was short-lived.
The wisps were gone.
The canon had closed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.
It only restored me twice.”
He lay on the ground, his face crumpled.
All his savings—wiped out after just two recovery cycles.
Money.
For the first time in his life, he was desperate for money.
If he had enough money for herbs, he could train endlessly.
The speed of his improvement would be staggering.
“Where am I going to get money?”
He scratched his head furiously.
He had no idea how to earn gold.
“Master.”
He had no choice but to ask Burning Elder again.
“What now?”
The old man’s voice was distinctly unfriendly.
I don’t have money to buy herbs.”
Feng Hao said weakly.
“No money?”
Burning Elder paused.
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
He thought for a moment.
“Well, a small family like yours couldn’t possibly support a herb devourer like you.”
He understood Feng Hao’s situation.
“Take these.
Trade them for gold.”
Three scrolls dropped from the ring.
Feng Hao picked them up.
The first was a Profound-rank low-grade martial technique: Scattering Sand Palm.
The second was another Profound-rank low-grade technique: Earth-Shaking Fist.
The third was a Yellow-rank high-grade essence method: Cloud Movement Art.
Feng Hao had only one thought.
Money!
If he put these up for auction, the four great families would fight over them.
He rested a moment, then dashed out of the Feng residence.
He headed toward the Elegant Auction House in the center of the city.
On the way, he stopped at a cloth shop, bought a piece of black cloth, and made a simple hood to cover himself.
Only then did he walk calmly into the auction house.
He had been here before with his father.
He knew the rules.
He walked straight to the service counter.
“How may I help you?”
A pretty attendant asked in a sweet voice.
Despite his odd appearance, the well-trained attendant didn’t dismiss him.
“I want to auction something.”
Feng Hao made his voice hoarse and slow.
“What would you like to auction?”
The attendant asked as politely as before.
He slid the Scattering Sand Palm scroll onto the counter.
“Oh my—a Profound-rank martial technique!”
The attendant’s eyes went wide.
She clapped a hand over her mouth.
But the words “Profound-rank martial technique” had already caught the attention of dozens of people in the hall.
“Profound-rank?”
They stared at the scroll in her hand, their eyes glittering.
“Sorry, sorry!”
The attendant apologized profusely.
“It’s fine.”
The publicity only helped.
Feng Hao wasn’t angry.
“Thank you for your understanding.
Please follow me.”
She led him toward the inner hall.