Chapter 14: Willow Town

"Indeed, if the Seven Stars Martial Hall hadn’t constantly sent its disciples out to provide support, we likely wouldn’t even be able to maintain our current situation," Wang Huai echoed in agreement.

"The county militia should expand by another hundred men and drill them well. The world grows ever more chaotic, with great bandits roaming everywhere. We must prepare for the unexpected," Cui Zhongsheng said, worry creasing his brow, which surprised Wang Huai. The county had already added two hundred to the militia the previous year; now, with another hundred, their numbers would reach five hundred—more than the combined forces of the two neighboring counties.

After discussing, the two resolved to summon the county’s gentry and prominent families, requesting that they contribute grain and pay tribute. In the event of disaster, their families could then be allowed to take shelter within the city’s walls. Those unwilling to donate would not be forced—when calamity struck, they’d simply have to run faster.

Meanwhile, the county’s stores of medicinal herbs and provisions would be prioritized for the best among the constables and militia. A report would also be sent to the provincial Peacekeeping Bureau, applying to establish a subordinate office in Crane County.

The Peacekeeping Bureau answered only to the Emperor, an administrative body independent of the Six Ministries, charged with hunting down, eradicating, and banishing disruptive forces, evil spirits, monsters, and notorious criminals within the Celestial Empire, as well as overseeing all civil and military officials.

Yet the Bureau was always shorthanded, and in recent years had been recruiting heavily, especially seeking martial artists. Not everyone, however, was willing to become a hound of the court, so their results were only moderate.

At dawn the next morning, Ling Chi began his training as steadfastly as ever. He now practiced both the Golden Thunder Body Tempering Technique and the Supreme Yang Spring Thunder Breathing Method. After countless rounds of tempering himself with thunder, his body had become as if cast from bronze and iron; ordinary blades and swords could no longer harm him. Any further improvement would require more advanced external martial arts.

Cultivating the breathing method was even more arduous—it was a slow, cumulative process, a grindstone of perseverance. Fortunately, his unique advantage—the golden finger—made him stronger each time he slew monsters or banished demons.

Growth had to be gradual; no one could afford the consequences of forcing it.

Once his breathing exercises were done, he switched to the Eight Extremities Fist. Each movement was steady and powerful, each punch and stance like a tiger in motion.

The martial arts Ling Chi practiced—his fists and blades—were meant for killing. Every move targeted vital spots, the kind forbidden in sparring matches, so he seldom practiced with others.

The first stage of the Meridian Opening Realm involved using spiritual energy within the body to break open the meridians. There were nine major meridians, representing the nine levels of this stage: the Governing Vessel, Conception Vessel, Penetrating Vessel, Girdle Vessel, Yang Linking Vessel, Yin Linking Vessel, Yin Heel Vessel, Yang Heel Vessel, and the most difficult, the Qi Vessel.

The Governing Vessel ran along the midline of the back, the Conception Vessel along the front, the Penetrating Vessel at the body’s front, the Girdle Vessel at the waist and abdomen, Yin Heel and Yang Heel along the inner and outer sides, Yin Linking and Yang Linking likewise, and the Qi Vessel hidden in the head.

At present, Ling Chi had reached the third level of Meridian Opening; he had already broken through the Penetrating Vessel. The cyclone of energy in his body had grown to the size of a fist, which he divided into several streams to continually temper his meridians, like warriors charging in relentless waves.

The process of breaking through the Penetrating Vessel was far from pleasant—it was deeply painful.

Ling Chi resolved to begin hunting monsters and demons in earnest, using his golden finger to aid his breakthroughs; otherwise, who knew how long he’d remain stuck at this level.

After finishing his training and washing up, he found the chicken-broth congee ready in the pot. With his body constantly pushed to its limits, he needed ample nutrition. Accompanied by salted fish, ham, and eggs, he ate three large bowls before heading, as usual, to the martial hall.

There were many registered disciples at the hall now, all greeting Ling Chi respectfully as senior brother as he passed. He nodded in response, making his way to the training yard, where he saw Mistress Yang holding onto Third Senior Brother Li Shui, speaking intently. Beside them, Zhao Shanhe was preparing the tack, looking as if they were about to leave.

Mistress Yang, still elegant and charming, had followed the master since her teens, bearing a son and a daughter—the son being Ling Chi’s Fourth Senior Brother Zhao Lei, and the daughter, Zhao Rui, born only two years prior.

"Ah, Little Six, you’ve come at just the right time," Mistress Yang said fondly, pinching Ling Chi’s face. "Your master is still at the provincial capital. Second and Fourth Senior Brothers went with Chief Constable Xue to Willow Town yesterday and haven’t sent any word. I’m uneasy. Go with Third and Fifth Senior Brothers and see what’s happened. I’ll stay here with the eldest to look after the hall."

Ling Chi quickly agreed, grateful for the kindness shown to him by his seniors and especially Mistress Yang, who treated him almost like her own son.

The three gathered their things and set out at once. Riding three sturdy steeds, they thundered down the official road toward Willow Town, raising a trail of dust and drawing the attention of passersby.

When people saw they were disciples of the Seven Stars Martial Hall, they quickly stepped aside. The hall had an impeccable reputation within a hundred miles—escorting caravans, bodyguarding, exorcising ghosts, and slaying monsters. It was the dominant power in little Crane County.

Yet the closer they drew to Willow Town, the fewer people they saw. After an hour, the giant willow at the town’s entrance came into view.

Li Shui gently reined in his horse, bringing them to a halt. "Brothers, stay alert. Something’s not right. It’s midday, yet there’s not a soul in sight. Far too strange."

"Third Brother, I can sense a faint taint of corpse miasma nearby," Zhao Shanhe added.

Ling Chi, too, found it odd—no cooking smoke, no people. Had everyone moved away?

A towering willow stood at the entrance, lush and leafy. Ling Chi’s eyes glimmered with thunderous light as he quietly surveyed the surroundings.

The three dismounted, leading their horses. Hooves rang crisply on the stone-paved street, echoing in the eerie silence.

Knife in hand, Ling Chi unsheathed his blade and nudged open the gate of a nearby courtyard—no sign of life.

Signaling his companions to stay vigilant, they tethered the horses and advanced in a triangular formation, searching as they moved. The cyclone of energy in Ling Chi’s body churned, eager for action.

They passed through the streets unchallenged, yet Ling Chi’s sense of unease only deepened. In broad daylight, the chill on his back grew more pronounced.

Reaching the town office, the air was thick with a metallic, cloying scent of blood. The three stiffened in alarm.

Ling Chi slowly drew his blade, scabbard in his left hand, blade in his right, and led the way through the door.

Li Shui and Zhao Shanhe followed suit. Neither’s physique matched Ling Chi’s; in such a situation, pride was the last thing on their minds.

Inside the office, the smell of blood was overpowering. The first thing they saw was a splatter of black-red blood across the screen wall—yet not a single corpse.

They made their way through the passage, only to be stunned by the scene at the inner gate: fragments of flesh were scattered everywhere.

Broken weapons and shattered bodies littered the ground. The reek was so intense that both senior brothers retched; Ling Chi, more composed, raised his kerchief to cover his nose and mouth.

After all, in his previous life, he had seen horrors far worse than this—a serial killer’s basement was more gruesome than any battlefield.

Third Brother’s face was as pale as death, clinging to a rack by the door as he vomited uncontrollably. Fifth Brother managed slightly better, at least having the presence of mind to turn away while he retched.

There was little information to glean from the mangled remains. Ling Chi kicked open door after door—no intact bodies, some reduced to mere pulp.

Deeper within, in the main hall, a corpse clad in green official robes hung from the center beam, the face entirely sliced away.