After the Great Dao Died

Chen Lingxi dropped like Mount Tai crashing down. Blood and qi surged through his body, scalding as molten copper rushing through his meridians!

The moment he struck, he pushed the circulation method of the Mountain-Collapsing Force to its absolute limit. His right fist clenched tight, a faint layer of crimson qi enveloping his knuckles.

Before Chen Lingxi made his move, the two men guarding the alley had been completely oblivious to his presence.

Now, as he plummeted toward them, he didn’t shout a challenge, nor did he pause to assume a stance upon landing.

He threw his punch while still in midair!

Mountain-Pulling Fist!

Like wrapping his arms around a mountain to heave it upward, his boiling blood and qi erupted. The Mountain-Collapsing Force carried the momentum to level a peak, unleashing an unimaginable surge of power!

Cutting through the spring breeze, Chen Lingxi locked onto his target—driving his fist straight at the man who had boasted about buying more refugees to torture!

The man bore a scar across his face. He looked to be in his thirties, tall and built with bulging, knotted muscles. He was clearly not someone to be trifled with.

Except... Chen Lingxi was no longer the sickly, frail boy he used to be.Now, he was a martial artist at the small success of the Bronze-Red realm!

His fist shot straight for the scarred man’s chest.

Whoosh!

His qi and blood tore through the air!

Scarface reacted fast. The instant he heard the wind tear, he whirled around.

Chen Lingxi’s cold face reflected in his pupils. He opened his mouth, seeming to want to shout something.

But the Mountain-Pulling Fist had already arrived.

Crunch!

Another sound rang out, but it was no longer the tearing of wind. It was the sickening thud of a fist plunging into flesh and bone!

The punch landed dead center on Scarface’s chest, the knuckles sinking deep into his sternum.

There was no scream, not even the sound of cracking bone—because the fist punched clean through his breastbone, instantly mashing the heart behind it into pulp.

Bronze Slurry Qi erupted from the fist, churning the heart into a bloody sludge.

Scarface’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second, utter disbelief lingering in his eyes.

His mouth hung open, but no words came out. Only a wet gurgle sounded in his throat as a froth of blood bubbled past his lips.

Like a felled log, he tipped straight backward and slammed into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Dead in a single punch!

”You!”

Lao San finally snapped out of his daze, only just now managing to draw the blade at his waist.

It was a standard Goose-Quill Saber, narrow and long with a remarkably thick spine. It sang with a sharp metallic rasp as it left the scabbard.

The hand gripping the hilt radiated tremendous strength!

At the very least, he wielded the power of a peak Iron Body martial artist!

The long saber swept out to slash, but Chen Lingxi’s fists were simply too fast.

Lao San didn’t even have time to make out Chen Lingxi’s face. All he saw was Scarface dropping to the ground, followed by a blood-soaked fist hurtling straight toward his own face.

On pure instinct, he raised his saber horizontally to block.

Clang! Fist met blade in a crisp ring of metal.

The Goose-Quill Saber bowed inward under the blow. The sheer power of the Mountain-Collapsing Force bypassed the steel and slammed into Lao San’s arm, numbing the webbing between his thumb and forefinger and forcing him to stagger back two steps.

Only then did Lao San finally see his attacker clearly.

It was a youth.

Chen Lingxi had a thin frame and a somewhat pale complexion. He looked like a bean sprout grown in a dark cellar, liable to blow over in a stiff breeze.

Yet his dark, heavy gaze lacked even a shred of the fear a boy his age should have had.

”God damn it.”

Lao San gritted his teeth. Without wasting a single word, he threw his entire body forward!

Having survived in the martial underworld for so long, he knew perfectly well that talking was useless in a life-and-death struggle.

The only thing he could rely on was the Goose-Quill Saber in his hand!

He wielded the blade with masterful familiarity, each strike faster than the last. The flashing steel spilled forth like quicksilver, splashing toward Chen Lingxi’s head, neck, chest, and stomach.

He pushed his qi and blood to their absolute limit, veins bulging all over his body. Every slash carried a piercing shriek as it tore through the air.

This was his trump card. Even a martial artist who had just entered the Bronze-Red realm and hadn’t yet developed Bronze Slurry Qi would have to back off and avoid the edge of such an airtight, high-speed barrage.

But Chen Lingxi did not avoid it.

He had already died once in the Divine Chamber, killed by a single finger strike from Lu Baizhong.

He still remembered that pale golden lightning flash. It was overwhelmingly fast—so fast he hadn’t even had the time to form the thought of dodging.

The blade before his eyes was also fast.

But after witnessing true speed, this saber felt slow.

He stepped sideways, letting a downward slash whistle past his head. His left fist shifted, his blood and qi turning incredibly dense and explosively powerful under the drive of the Mountain-Collapsing Force.

Seizing the brief opening from the missed slash, he brought his fist crashing down with blinding speed, slamming it right into Lao San’s right shoulder.

His hyper-condensed qi penetrated straight into the bone. A loud crack echoed from Lao San’s shoulder.

Something had shattered.

Lao San let out a muffled grunt. His right arm instantly went limp, stalling the momentum of his blade. In that same heartbeat, Chen Lingxi’s fist hammered into his right elbow.

This punch used the River Entering Form. The kinetic force flooded into the joint, shattering the elbow into a dozen fragments.

The saber flew from his grasp, stabbing into the muddy ground and wobbling violently.

Refusing to give up the advantage, Chen Lingxi followed through with his left fist. The full brunt of the Mountain-Collapsing Force channeled through his knuckles and smashed solidly into Lao San’s left knee.

It sounded like a sledgehammer crushing a brittle walnut. The kneecap caved in, pale shards of shattered bone piercing through the flesh and protruding grotesquely into the air.

Howling in agony, Lao San collapsed, his back hitting the dirt and splashing muddy water in all directions.

Chen Lingxi dropped a knee onto his chest, pinning him down, and clamped his left hand over the man’s throat, tightening his grip slightly.

Lao San’s screams cut off abruptly, turning into harsh, breathy wheezes.

His face turned purple and his eyes bulged as he stared fixedly at Chen Lingxi.

He squeezed out a few broken words from his compressed windpipe. ”You... you’re that official bondservant...”

Ignoring his shock, Chen Lingxi simply asked, ”Where is Wang Kong?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it was unnervingly calm. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

Lao San’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His lips twitched a few times; it seemed he still wanted to put up a tough front.

But Chen Lingxi’s fingers constricted around his throat another fraction of an inch. His nails dug through the skin, beads of blood oozing through the gaps between his fingers.

”Minggu Alley...” His psychological defenses completely shattered, his voice coming out in a garbled slur. ”In the brothel at Minggu Alley...”

”Minggu Alley?” Chen Lingxi asked, verifying the location.

Unable to form a complete sentence anymore, Lao San nodded frantically.

Chen Lingxi pressed his fingers down.

His qi and blood surged, instantly crushing the man’s windpipe.

Lao San’s body convulsed violently. His legs kicked against the muddy ground a couple of times, and then he stopped moving.

Chen Lingxi stood up, looking down at his bloodstained hands.

Today, he had bludgeoned two men to death.

The blood was warm, plastered thick and sticky between his fingers.

He stared at it in silence for a moment before walking over to the water well by the wall. Drawing half a bucket of water, he meticulously washed the blood from his hands.

”Killing for the first time isn’t as horrifying as I imagined.”

Perhaps his time over the past two years at the Duguan Bureau and the Baosu Marquis Residence had exposed him to so many corpses that he had long grown numb to it.

Or perhaps he knew that given his current situation, if he didn’t kill—if he didn’t make himself stronger—he would be the one killed!

He dragged both corpses into the half-collapsed adobe house nearby.

The house had been abandoned for ages, its beams and pillars rotting away and thick weeds growing along the walls. It was the perfect place to hide the bodies from prying eyes.

He kicked loose dirt over the blood to cover the remaining traces.

Only after finishing his cleanup did he look toward Minggu Alley.

Minggu Alley was Yuanjiang Prefecture’s famous red-light district.

By day, it was filled with the songs and dances of courtesans; by night, it was a blur of crimson lanterns and fine wine, the sounds of string and bamboo instruments drifting across two whole streets.

A place like that was constantly packed with a weaving sea of people. If he rashly charged in to find someone, even if he did spot his target, he likely wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

He withdrew his gaze.

The vision from the Divine Chamber floated to the forefront of his mind once more.

—Wang Kong, leading two burly men, walking swiftly down the street and cursing loudly.

Chen Lingxi’s brow twitched upward slightly, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth.

”Having waited this long for results, Wang Kong is probably already on his way to Liujie Alley.”

He straightened up and patted the dust from his clothes.

”I’ll just wait for him right here.”

”Since I’ve already started this, I might as well finish it cleanly.”