Online Game: Me, with Unparalleled Comprehension

Wu Feng stopped and his gaze swept across the entire palace.

It's too clean.

It's not poverty, it's deliberate. It's like someone has hidden away all the truly valuable things elsewhere.

He squinted and began tapping on the walls, screens, and column bases.

When the fingertips tapped on the portrait of the veiled woman on the east wall, the echo was wrong.

The woman in the painting has her hair piled high, her brows and eyes filled with sorrow, her face hidden behind a light veil. Her aura is seven parts similar to the jade statue in Langhuan Paradise, but she lacks that otherworldly ethereal quality and has more of the gentle grace of the mortal world.

It should be a self-portrait of Li Qiushui.

Wu Feng didn't look at the person in the painting for long; he simply lifted the scroll gently.

A tiny crack, as thin as a hair, was visible in the wall; it would be almost imperceptible to the naked eye unless one tapped it to discover that the wall was hollow.

He used his fingertips to feel along the gap and found a slightly indented spot.

Just a gentle press.

The gap widened, and a palm-sized brick sank inward, revealing an embedded hidden compartment.

Inside the compartment lay a small, cast-iron beast, its form archaic and simple, its head slightly raised as if it were hissing.

He grasped the beast's body and gently twisted it clockwise.

Click.

The sound was extremely soft and came from the direction of the bed in the inner sanctuary.

Wu Feng turned and walked over.

The phoenix couch, covered with brocade bedding, slowly split open in the middle, its edges neat and silent, sliding to both sides to reveal the deep staircase below.

The stone steps descended and disappeared into the darkness.

Chamber of Secrets.

He glanced at the maid still struggling in the corner, walked over, and lifted her by the back of her collar with one hand.

We already have him in our hands, so we can't leave him here. If he manages to break free and cry for help, tonight we won't even be able to leave the city, let alone loot it.

The maid writhed violently in his hands, making muffled angry noises in her throat, her eyes looking as if she wanted to devour him alive.

Wu Feng ignored her and carried her up the stairs.

The entrance closed silently behind us.

The stairs are not long; there are only a dozen or so steps to the bottom.

Suddenly, everything became clear.

This is a secret room of about 30 to 40 square meters, with walls made of bluestone, dry and clean.

The air didn't have the usual musty smell of a cellar; instead, it carried a faint scent of sandalwood.

The interior furnishings were simple—a low couch against the wall, covered with a plain-colored mattress, and a futon next to it.

Tea sets were placed on a low table in front of the futon, and there was even half a pot of leftover tea in the teapot, as if someone had been sitting here drinking tea not long ago.

But what truly caught Wu Feng's eye were the rows of bookshelves standing against the wall.

The rosewood shelf, as tall as a person's shoulder, was filled with books, scrolls, and silk scrolls on each shelf.

Wu Fengjing walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a book.

"Iron Finger Techniques." A second-rate finger technique from the Shaolin school. Put it back, then pick up another one.

Heart-Shattering Palm. A second-rate palm technique from the Qingcheng School.

Draw again.

"The Wind Brushes the Willow Sword." A second-rate sword technique.

"Like a Shadow Leg". A second-rate leg technique.

Wu Feng flipped through the books one by one, his hands never stopping as he stuffed them into his backpack.

One book, two books, ten books...

One shelf of the bookshelf was soon empty.

He turned to look at the wooden crates.

Open the first one.

Gold leaves, silver ingots, strings of copper coins, and several ingots of official silver.

Several neatly stacked bolts of brocade lay beneath, smooth to the touch, made of tribute-grade fabric.

The second box.

Calligraphy and paintings. He casually unfolded a scroll; the signature was that of an ancient person he had never heard of. He didn't understand it, but the mounting was exquisite, so he kept it.

The third box.

Musical instruments. A guqin, a jade flute, and several other Western Region musical instruments whose names I do not know, inlaid with gemstones.

The fourth box.

Miscellaneous items. Several heavy inkstones, an intricately carved inkstone, a box of pressed tribute tea, and several bottles of elixirs.

Wu Feng accepted everything without question.

The backpack compartments filled up at a visible speed.

Finally, the bookshelves were emptied, the wooden boxes were cleared out, and he even glanced at the unburnt bronze lamp beside the low couch and cushions. It was no ordinary item, so he kept it.

The entire secret chamber was completely empty except for the stone platform and the stone bed; there wasn't a single thing left that could be taken.

The maid knelt in the corner, her mouth gagged, making rapid, muffled noises.

She stared intently at Wu Feng, her eyes reddening, not from fear, but from hatred.

That look in his eyes was like he wanted to skin someone alive.

Wu Feng walked up to her and squatted down.

He reached out and removed the gag from her mouth.

"You little thief—!" The maid's voice was hoarse as soon as she could speak, filled with barely suppressed rage. "You, you dared to plunder the Western Xia Imperial Palace! Her Majesty the Empress will not let you get away with this! You can't escape; the entire First-Class Hall will hunt you down, and you will die a horrible death!"

She was cursing so fast and urgently that her breathing became uneven.

Wu Feng looked at her but didn't reply.

After a few breaths, he spoke, his tone indifferent: "Then you probably won't be able to see it."

The maid paused in her speech.

"I thought I'd need your help later," Wu Feng said. "But it seems this secret room is so simple, I won't need you anymore."

He raised his right hand.

Black and white energy flowed subtly in the palm, yin and yang merging.

Tianshan Six Yang Palm.

The maid's pupils contracted sharply. She tried to retreat, but there was a wall behind her, and nowhere to go.

"you……"

The palm fell.

Silently, it imprinted itself on her forehead.

The force penetrates.

The maid's gaze froze, then glazed over, and she slumped against the wall.

A white light emanated from her body, growing brighter and brighter until, in an instant, she transformed into specks of light and dust, dissipating into the air of the sealed room.

Several halos of light remained in place, slowly floating.

Wu Feng lowered his hands and looked at the orbs of light.

[System Notification: Defeat Li Qiushui's personal maid, Liu'er (Level 38, Second-rate Martial Artist), gain 380000 experience points and +30 reputation points.]

[System Notification: Congratulations! Your level has increased to 40! Strength +1, Constitution +1, Agility +1.]

A golden light rose from his body and disappeared in a flash.

I've been killing bandits to level up until this evening, and my experience bar is almost there.

He instantly leveled up to level 40.

Wu Feng glanced at the attribute panel; the level number had jumped to 40.

He bent down and picked up the few halos of light.

A thin booklet—a fragment of the "Xiao Wu Xiang Gong" (Minor Formless Skill)—with annotations by Li Qiushui herself on her practice.

A jade pendant, its surface warm and smooth, with the words "Autumn Water" engraved on the front.

There were also a few bottles of pills, which, judging from their quality, were high-grade medicines for healing and restoring energy.

Put them all away.

He straightened up and glanced at the secret room one last time.

It was completely empty, with nothing but an immovable stone bed and a futon.

As he left the secret room, the bed panels slowly closed behind him, fitting together perfectly as if they had never been opened.

He leaped out of the window, the night wind rushing against his face.

The palace behind him was silent, the candlelight still burning, but it was empty.

Wu Feng gathered his energy and unleashed the perfected Lingbo Weibu technique. His figure transformed into an almost invisible shadow, leaping and bounding across the rooftops, eaves, and shadows before crossing the palace walls and merging into the darkness of Xingqing Prefecture in the dead of night.

Wu Feng gently pushed open the back window, leaped into the room silently.

He closed the window sash with his other hand and pushed the latch back into place.

The room was pitch black, so he didn't light a lamp immediately. Instead, he stood by the window for a few moments, listening intently.

The courtyard was quiet, and there was no movement from the direction of the main house. Wu Xingyun must be asleep.

He then walked to the table, took out a tinderbox, blew on it, and lit the oil lamp.

The dim yellow light spread out, illuminating half of his face, which was still covered by a black mask.

He raised his hand, pulled off his mask, and let out a long breath.

The ties of the night clothes were untied one by one, revealing the dark blue coarse cloth shirt underneath.

He rolled up his night clothes into a ball and stuffed them into the corner of his backpack.

Only after he finished doing all that did he sit down at the table.

The lamplight on the table illuminated his calm face.

A thought subtly stirred within me.

wow-

One by one, I took things out of my backpack and laid them out on the table. If there wasn't enough room, I put them on the edge of the bed or on the floor.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered a few times in the wind, then steadied itself.