"I heard they went to ambush a disciple from a Martial Arts Hall. Maybe they just weren’t skilled enough and got killed?"

"No way. Who told you that? If they dared to set an ambush, they must have been confident. How could they have been killed so easily?"

"Whatever the case, it’s best not to mess with those Martial Arts Hall disciples. You never know when you might cross someone you can’t afford to offend."

"...."

The discussion was just that—talk. No one actually dug any deeper.

The government constables took one look, saw it was a gang war, and couldn’t even be bothered to move the bodies. They just ordered someone to drag them off to be buried. On the case file, they wrote "Gang infighting, matter handled," and considered the case closed.

The Yiqi Gang’s headquarters in Guang’an Square, along with its various strongholds in other districts, had long since descended into chaos.

With their two leaders dead, the gang members scattered like rats from a sinking ship. Anything of value was looted, and in less than half a day, only an empty courtyard remained. Even the flag embroidered with the character for "Righteousness" by the gate had been torn down and trampled into the mud.

Yang Jing saw all of this unfold.

When he passed by Guang’an Square that morning and saw the chaotic scene, he didn’t even break his stride. However, two members of the Yiqi Gang saw him, their faces instantly paled with fright, and they turned and ran, trembling...

To him, the deaths of Zhao Meng and Qian Bao were nothing more than the removal of a potential threat. Whatever the outside world speculated or gossiped about was none of his concern.

His mind was now completely focused on his Martial Dao. Having achieved Dark Energy with his Mountain-Shattering Fist and broken through to Bright Energy with his Raging Wave Kicks, he was filled with anticipation for the path ahead!

His detour through Guang’an Square had cost him some time. By the time Yang Jing arrived at the Martial Arts Hall, the front courtyard was already filled with disciples practicing their forms.

Usually, everyone just kept to themselves and trained on their own.

But today, the moment he stepped through the main gate, someone called out, "Good morning, Senior Brother Yang!"

The voice was loud, carrying a hint of deliberate warmth.

Yang Jing paused. Looking up, he saw a few disciples he didn’t know well. They had stopped their training, their faces plastered with respectful smiles.

He gave a slight nod in return. After he took a few more steps, several others surrounded him, all chattering greetings at once. The familiarity in their tone was a stark contrast to how they’d acted before.

"Senior Brother Yang is here!"

"Hello, Senior Brother!"

Cries of "Senior Brother Yang" followed him as he walked. A few disciples who had been training in the spacious center of the courtyard even moved aside, yielding the prime spot to him. This was an area that, until now, had only been used by Core Disciples like Lin Yue and Qi Yun.

Yang Jing walked into the center of the now-empty space. As he felt the gazes of the surrounding disciples, some open and some furtive, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.

He recalled when he first reached Bright Energy. While it had garnered some attention, it was nothing on this scale.

Back then, many disciples probably still harbored a competitive spirit. They likely felt that with a little more effort, they could still catch up, that a sliver of hope remained.

But Dark Energy was different. That threshold was simply too high. It was a level the vast majority of people could never hope to reach in their entire lifetime. Once someone crossed it, the gap between them and everyone else was as vast as that between the clouds and the mud. There was no longer any room for the hopeful delusion of catching up.

This reverence was for the title of "Dark Energy Martial Artist."

He took a deep breath, calmed the storm in his heart, then sank into a horse stance and began to practice the Mountain-Shattering Fist.

As the wind from his fists began to stir, the surrounding chatter died down. The disciples either watched from a distance or lowered their heads to continue their own training, but no one dared to approach and disturb him.

Sunlight crept over the top of the wall, illuminating the front courtyard and drawing a clear line between Yang Jing’s figure and the silhouettes of the other disciples.

Yang Jing could faintly sense it. From the moment he broke through to Dark Energy, his standing in the Martial Arts Hall had fundamentally changed.