After a long journey of five days and four nights, the train finally arrived at Jinmen Station with a roar and a jolt.

By then, night had fallen.

Mingling with the crowded throng, Zhao Xuanqi and Sun Yunyong exited the station.

Outside the station, neon lights flickered over shops, dance halls, hotels, and theaters, presenting a bustling nightscape.

Jinmen’s urban development was indeed far superior to that of Guangdong. Western-style buildings stood in great numbers, the roads were wide, and the buildings were generally taller. Most importantly, the infrastructure was much more modern.

Along the way, Zhao Xuanqi saw numerous telephone booths and even streetcars running on the roads. The pedestrians were generally dressed in more avant-garde and fashionable attire. Most importantly, their spirit seemed better than those in Guangdong.

Modern women in Western dresses, matrons in cheongsams, fair-skinned Westerners, and brown-skinned people from the Southeast Sea Region—even the common folk in plain clothes seemed to have eyes filled with hope and ambition.

Jinmen was a grand arena for fame and fortune. Who among those who came here from all over the Divine Land didn’t want to make a name for themselves?

And perhaps because it was a gathering place for Martial Artists, many pedestrians had solid, sturdy physiques, exuding a sense of overflowing vitality.

He had only just entered the city, but Zhao Xuanqi could already feel many things.

A place’s Essence, Qi, and Spirit were often revealed in the unnoticed details of its daily life.

What surprised Zhao Xuanqi the most was that in nearly every district he passed, he could see one or more fighting arenas set up in various locations.

"Jinmen is a place where dragons and fish mix. Internal and external forces are intertwined, and any industry without martial might to protect it is like rootless duckweed. Therefore, Jinmen venerates the martial way. The Divine Land’s culture of fighting arenas has been developed to its peak here. Even ordinary shop tenants with disputes will get into an arena themselves, or pay someone to fight for them, to settle their arguments. You could say it’s a local custom."

"Among them, the arenas under the Jinmen Martial Arts Association are the most authoritative and famous, even capable of influencing major chambers of commerce. For outside Martial Artists who want to make a name for themselves in Jinmen, the Martial Arts Association’s arena matches are the fastest way—and, of course, the most dangerous."

Sun Yunyong, who was beside him, noticed Zhao Xuanqi’s surprise and began to explain.

"Fighting arenas, huh?"

A flicker of interest appeared on Zhao Xuanqi’s face.

He had once set up a Street Arena in Celestial Sea Prefecture to resolve a dispute with the Hengchang Martial Arts Hall over Mingyu Street, settling the matter with a single match.

However, in Celestial Sea Prefecture and even Guangdong, such arena duels were typically only used for disputes between martial arts halls. But Jinmen was different; the custom seemed to have spread to many other levels of society.

This also meant that powerful Martial Artists held a high social status. This was a city that respected the strong.

"Where are we going next?"

Zhao Xuanqi asked Sun Yunyong.

"First, I’ll take you to meet our contact. He’ll arrange things for you from here. I have other missions, so I won’t be staying in Jinmen for long."

Sun Yunyong said. Of course, he couldn’t stay by Zhao Xuanqi’s side forever. Once everything was arranged, he would leave.

Hearing this, Zhao Xuanqi nodded slightly in understanding.

Soon, led by Sun Yunyong, the two took a rickshaw to the vicinity of a sizable grain and oil shop called "Fenghua Grain Shop."

Sun Yunyong observed the storefront, seemingly confirming a prearranged signal. He then led Zhao Xuanqi into the shop. After exchanging a code with the clerk, they were led to the second floor, where they met a middle-aged man of medium height with a portly build.

"Yun Yong, long time no see!"

Upon seeing Sun Yunyong, the middle-aged man immediately greeted him with a joyful expression and shook his hand firmly.

"Zhongliang, long time no see."

Sun Yunyong also smiled and replied to the middle-aged man. The two seemed to be old acquaintances.

"And this must be..."

The middle-aged man then looked at the tall, calm-faced Zhao Xuanqi standing behind Sun Yunyong.

"Zhongliang, let me introduce you. This is Zhao Qi from Yuehai. Due to the events there, he has abandoned the name Zhao Qi and is now known as Zhao Xuanqi."

"And this," Sun Yunyong said to Zhao Xuanqi, "is Yang Zhongliang, your future point of contact. If you need anything in Jinmen, you can contact him."

Sun Yunyong introduced the two to each other.

"Mr. Zhao, I’ve heard much about you."

Yang Zhongliang said with a broad smile, extending his hand to Zhao Xuanqi.

"I’ll be in your care."

Zhao Xuanqi also extended his hand. They simply shook hands, without much in the way of probing.

He could tell that Yang Zhongliang possessed no Secret Transmission, but to be his contact, the man’s position within the National Salvation Association’s system in Jinmen had to be quite high.

Afterward, the men sat down and chatted casually about topics like the current situation in Jinmen.

"I’ve already spoken with Mr. Yan of the Zhen Nan Chamber of Commerce. I’ll take you to see him tomorrow evening. For tonight, you should rest,"

Yang Zhongliang said.

"Does Mr. Yan know about my identity in Yuehai?"

Zhao Xuanqi asked Yang Zhongliang during their conversation.

"No. Although this is Jinmen, and the Giant Spirit Army’s reach doesn’t extend this far, we should still be cautious. Every day we can keep your identity hidden is a win. I only told Mr. Yan that you’re an expert from the Southern Martial Arts World who left home to make a new start in Jinmen because of some trouble you got into. Jinmen is a mixed bag—what expert doesn’t have some trouble in their past? You just need to do what you do best. Don’t worry about that part. Jinmen has room for everyone."

Yang Zhongliang said.

"Is that so?"

Zhao Xuanqi nodded slightly upon hearing this.

They talked for a while longer. As it was late and the two were weary from their travels, Yang Zhongliang arranged for them to wash up and rest early at the shop.

The night passed without incident. The next morning, Sun Yunyong took his leave. Zhao Xuanqi didn’t wander around either, choosing to stay at the shop.

That evening, darkness fell.

Yang Zhongliang led Zhao Xuanqi from the grain shop, and they took a rickshaw to the Yan Mansion.

It was a three-story, Western-style building with front and rear courtyards. The decor wasn’t extravagant, but it was grand.

After announcing their arrival to the guards, a butler led the two inside. Along the way, Zhao Xuanqi saw many calligraphy scrolls, antiques, and expensive pieces of furniture. It was clear that this Mr. Yan was not only wealthy but also an avid collector.

When they reached the rear courtyard, Zhao Xuanqi saw a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair, a medium build, and a rather portly figure. He was wearing loose-fitting training clothes and slowly practicing a set of fist techniques.

Actually, it wasn’t really a Fist Technique, but more of a health-oriented exercise routine, similar to the Five Animals Qigong. It wouldn’t increase one’s Physical Ability, but it did have some health benefits.

However, it wasn’t the middle-aged man who truly caught Zhao Xuanqi’s attention, but a young man standing to the side.

He looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, with a medium build, around 1.8 meters tall. His face was cold and indifferent, his eyes slightly closed in a state of focused meditation.

Yet, though he seemed oblivious to his surroundings, no matter how the middle-aged man in the courtyard moved, he always maintained a distance of exactly five steps from him—no more, no less, as if measured with a ruler.

Five steps. This was the limit of a Martial Artist’s reaction distance. As the saying goes, "When a common man is enraged, blood will spill five steps away." Within five steps, with a flash of Spiritual Sense, this person could instantly save the middle-aged man, even from a sniper firing from a distance.

But that wasn’t the most important thing. What mattered most was the feeling this person gave Zhao Xuanqi.

His mind and spirit were retracted, revealing no hint of their brilliance.

And yet, in his every move, Zhao Xuanqi’s Hundred Beasts’ Intent could sense a dangerous threat.

Like a sword hidden in its sheath.

’This is an expert.’