Under the cover of night, Yang Jing quickly returned to his small courtyard in Tongyi Square.

The moment he pushed open the courtyard gate, Yang Jing’s brow furrowed.

The wooden door to the house was ajar, and the hinges showed signs of being pried open with force.

He strode into the house and, seeing the scene by moonlight, his frown deepened slightly.

The table and chairs were overturned, the bed was a mess, and the wooden chest in the corner was wide open, its contents—clothes—strewn across the floor. It had clearly been thoroughly searched.

’It must have been the Yiqi Gang,’ Yang Jing realized instantly.

He figured Zhao Meng and Qian Bao had sent men to his home to search for something, most likely the treasure from the Great Fortune Gang.

When they couldn’t find it, the two had taken matters into their own hands, planning to capture and torture him. They had just underestimated his strength and been killed by him instead.

Yang Jing didn’t rush to clean up. His eyes swept across the room, confirming that aside from the mess, nothing else had been lost.

He then turned and walked into the courtyard, his gaze falling upon the old locust tree.

He picked up a shovel from the corner of the wall, walked over to the tree, and dug a hole in the ground.

He had considered that even having his own courtyard might not be safe. So, he had divided the gold, silver, and ginseng he’d obtained from the Great Fortune Gang into three portions. One was hidden in the rafters of his old family home, one was buried under the locust tree in his courtyard, and the last he kept on his person for daily expenses.

Beneath the soil, a sturdy wooden box lay waiting.

Yang Jing lifted the box out and opened it. Inside, the gold bars, silver ingots, and the old mountain ginseng wrapped in brocade were all intact.

This was the haul he had taken from Xu Tai of the Great Fortune Gang, and it was now his most important savings. He had deliberately hidden it in this most inconspicuous place, and to his surprise, it had actually survived the Yiqi Gang’s search.

Yang Jing breathed a sigh of relief. He closed the lid, carefully reburied the box, and packed the earth down with his feet, restoring it to its original state. Not a single trace of digging remained.

Once he had finished, he returned to the house but didn’t immediately clean up the mess.

’Since nothing was stolen, this mess is trivial.’

He walked to the table, sat down, poured a cup of cold tea, and drank it, his gaze calm as he looked out at the night beyond the window.

The Yiqi Gang had tracked him down and even resorted to searching his home. It seemed his decision last night was the right one. If he hadn’t pushed through to the Anjin stage in one go, he would have been in real danger today.

Now that Zhao Meng and Qian Bao were dead, the Yiqi Gang was without a leader, which eliminated one potential threat.

Lost in thought, Yang Jing took the two coin purses from Zhao Meng and Qian Bao out from his robes. He emptied the silver onto the table, placed the small porcelain vial down as well, and then tossed the two purses aside to be burned later.

Yang Jing gathered the silver on the table. Its heavy weight felt reassuring in his hands.

He then picked up the small porcelain vial containing the dark red elixir. He held it up to the moonlight; its fragrance was rich, but he couldn’t guess its specific effects. For now, he could only tuck it away. When he had the chance, he could make some discreet inquiries at Liu’s Medical Hall.

Yang Jing looked at the silver and the small vial on the table, his lips pursed slightly. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, mentally calculating the Yiqi Gang’s total wealth.

The silver Zhao Meng and Qian Bao carried on them wasn’t much. As gang leaders, their savings had to be more than this; they just didn’t carry most of it with them. This meant the Yiqi Gang’s headquarters might hold a considerable stash.

’But... should I go plunder the Yiqi Gang’s headquarters?’ The thought had barely formed before he suppressed it.

The place was full of people, and prying eyes were everywhere. Even as an Anjin expert, sneaking in unnoticed past the Yiqi Gang’s many members would be extremely difficult. Fighting his way in wouldn’t be hard, but it would inevitably cause a huge uproar. If the authorities decided to investigate seriously, it would lead to trouble.

Besides, he wasn’t short on silver coins at the moment. Now that he had broken through to the Anjin stage, it would be much easier to make money in the future. The Yiqi Gang was, at the end of the day, just a gang founded by Mingjin Martial Artists. Even if they had some silver coins, it wasn’t that important to him anymore.

’In that case, it’s better to avoid unnecessary trouble.’

Having reached this conclusion, Yang Jing stopped agonizing over it. He swept the silver and the vial into his own coin purse.

He then got up, left the main house, and went into the kitchen. He cut off a piece of bear meat weighing a full catty, placed it in a pot, and tossed Zhao Meng’s and Qian Bao’s coin purses into the stove fire as he lit it. Then, he boiled the bear meat in plain water and ate it, broth and all.

A warm flow of energy spread through his body, but he could clearly feel it was much weaker than when he was at the Mingjin stage.

Now that his realm had advanced, the nourishing effects of ordinary beast meat were significantly less potent than before. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

’Looks like I’ll have to use that old ginseng soon,’ Yang Jing thought, rubbing his stomach. ’I’ll start taking it slowly in a couple of days. I estimate its effects will be far stronger than ordinary beast meat.’

The night deepened, and the only sound in the courtyard was the chirping of insects.

Yang Jing walked into the center of the courtyard, sank into a low horse stance, and slowly executed the "Mountain Splitter" move. He had officially begun to study the Mountain-Shattering Fist at the Anjin level.

The wind from his fist swept by. He no longer pursued the raw, fierce power of the Mingjin stage, but instead concealed his Anjin—his hidden strength—within the turning points of his techniques.

He deliberately slowed his movements, feeling how his Inner Strength snaked up his spine and how, at the precise moment before his fist made contact, it would suddenly erupt with a subtle force capable of piercing stone and metal.

The "Entwine" principle that Sun Yong had pointed out during the day gradually became clearer through his repeated practice. With a single punch, his Inner Strength split into three streams: one to strike the surface, one to penetrate within, and a final stream that could actually spiral back slightly inside the target, its lingering power long-lasting.

Moonlight spilled over him, stretching and shrinking his shadow.

Once, twice, three times... Yang Jing was completely immersed in the fusion of his fist forms and Inner Strength. It was only after more than an hour that he slowly withdrew his fist and exhaled a long, turbid breath. The column of air actually condensed in the air without dispersing, only turning into a white mist and vanishing a moment later.