Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

Fang Yuan's lips twitched slightly. The movement was so subtle that even Fang Ping, who was peeking from the courtyard gate, didn't notice it.

He turned and walked into the courtyard.

Fang Ying's room.

The door wasn't closed. Fang Lin stood under the porch. When Fang Yuan walked over, Fang Lin's gaze lingered on him for a couple of moments.

"Young Master, you've broken through?"

Fang Lin didn't use a questioning tone. He noticed it. Fang Yuan's walking style had changed—not in terms of stride length or speed, but in the sense of stability that "didn't require adjusting his center of gravity with each step," a depth that was even greater than two weeks ago.

Fang Yuan didn't reply. His gaze passed over Fang Lin and fell on the scene in the courtyard.

Fang Ying is running.

The five-and-a-half-year-old girl was wearing a faded blue cotton shirt. Her hair was loose—Fang Lin's two crooked little buns had probably come undone while running. Her two short legs were kicking very fast as she ran laps around the old locust tree in the middle of the yard.

Fang Lin's shadow was being chased by her.

Fang Ying finished running a lap. Her foot tripped on a raised brick edge. She fell.

He braced himself on the ground with both palms. His knee scraped against the ground.

Fang Yuan paused for a moment.

Fang Ying lay on the ground. She didn't cry. She looked down at her palms—they were slightly red. Then, using those reddened hands to push herself up, she stood up.

Brush the dust off the skirt.

Keep running.

Fang Yuan squatted on the steps.

Just watch.

Fang Ying fell again on her second lap. This time, her toe caught on the exposed part of a locust tree root. She landed face-first on the ground.

He lay there for a moment, then got up.

carry on.

She didn't fall on the third lap. She finished running. Fang Ying walked around to the front of the locust tree, bent over, panting. Her little face was flushed. A fine layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

She looked up and saw Fang Yuan on the steps.

"elder brother!"

The voice was a note brighter than it had been two weeks ago. It wasn't a weak, unreliable brightness; it was a natural, strong resonance that came from abundant blood and energy.

Fang Ying ran over. This time she didn't fall. She ran to Fang Yuan, head tilted back, panting heavily.

"Bro! I ran three laps!"

Fang Yuan reached out and wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead.

"I saw it."

Fang Ying grinned, revealing two rows of uneven small teeth. Her eyes curved into two crescent moons as she smiled.

Fang Yuan squatted on the steps, his fingers resting on Fang Ying's wrist. A habitual gesture. His fingertips touched her pulse.

Heart rate is slightly fast. This is a normal reaction after exercise. Blood and Qi circulation is smooth. There are no signs of blockage in the meridians.

The effects of marrow cleansing baths are permanent.

Fang Yuan loosened his grip on Fang Ying's wrist. He opened his palm and placed it on his knee.

New nails have grown on the two fingers on my left hand that were missing their nail plates. They are thin and lighter in color than the other nails.

Traces left by the fifty-foot dome.

Fang Yuan glanced at the two new fingernails. Then he glanced at Fang Ying, who was squatting on the ground drawing with a twig.

value.

"Fang Lin. Look at her."

Fang Yuan stood up.

"I'm going to Baicaotang."

-

Baicaotang.

In the afternoon, the sun shone so brightly that the bluestone pavement was hot.

When Fang Yuan pushed open the back door, Manager Qian was sitting behind the counter, not using an abacus.

Fang Yuan noticed this detail the moment he entered. There were only two things when Manager Qian wasn't using the abacus—either he was eating or he was worrying.

There was no food on the counter.

"Young Master Fang."

Shopkeeper Qian stood up. He smiled. The curve of his smile was slightly different from usual—the corners of his mouth were high enough, but the lines at the corners of his eyes didn't match.

A fake smile.

Fang Yuan sat down on the stool opposite the counter. He didn't say anything.

Shopkeeper Qian pulled an envelope from under the counter and pushed it in front of Fang Yuan.

"This month's share: 2,430 taels."

Thirty taels more than expected. Fang Yuan opened the envelope. Inside were silver notes issued by Baicaotang. Two notes were worth one thousand taels, one was worth four hundred taels, and one was worth thirty taels.

Fang Yuan put the silver notes into his inner pocket.

Manager Qian stood behind the counter, his hands resting on the abacus frame. He did not sit down.

Fang Yuan waited for three breaths. Manager Qian remained silent.

"explain."

Manager Qian's Adam's apple bobbed. He glanced towards the back door, confirming it was closed.

"Young Master Fang, something has happened in the west of the city."

His voice was a whole tone lower than usual. The ever-energetic, plump shopkeeper was speaking as if he was afraid the walls would hear him.

"What is it?"

"Someone's dead." Manager Qian tapped his fingers unconsciously twice on the abacus frame. "Not one. Three."

Fang Yuan's expression remained unchanged.

"In the past two weeks, three people have died in the west of the city. They were all low-level martial artists living alone. They were at the Skin Refining to Flesh Refining stage. They all lived in the tenement alleys on the outskirts of the west of the city."

Manager Qian's voice lowered even further.

"The way he died is suspicious."

Fang Yuan's eyelids twitched slightly. Not because of "dead people." People die every month in Liangshui City. Martial arts brawls,江湖恩怨杀 (jianghu vendettas), and monster attacks are all common occurrences.

But Manager Qian wouldn't show this kind of expression because of common murder cases.

"Something's not right."

Shopkeeper Qian pulled out another crumpled piece of paper from under the counter. He unfolded it. On it were a few lines of hastily written words.

"Bai Cao Tang has three distribution points in the west of the city. The errand boy lived less than an alley away from the second victim's house. He went to deliver the goods early that morning and saw that the city guards had blocked off the alley. Out of curiosity, he took a detour, climbed over a low wall, and peeked out the back window."

Manager Qian pointed to a line on the paper.

"The person was lying on the bed. Their clothes were intact. There were no signs of forced entry on the doors or windows. But the person's skin—"

Shopkeeper Qian's finger hovered over the paper. His fingertips turned white.

"Grayish-white. The whole person looked like they had been drained of all moisture. Not the kind of gauntness from starvation, but the kind of dryness that comes from the inside out, like there's no blood left in their veins."

Fang Yuan's back tensed up very slowly.

"The guy said the expression on that face wasn't pain. It was empty. Like he'd never lived."

The essence and blood were drained.

These five words were automatically assembled in Fang Yuan's mind.

This wasn't ordinary murder. It was a technique or evil art that required blood essence as raw material. In Fang Yuan's limited understanding, the skill to completely extract a person's blood essence without damaging the skin and bones required a skill level no lower than the Refining Realm.

Or—it's not a technique. It's a tool.

Fang Yuan's left hand unconsciously reached for the pocket at his waist.

There was something in my pocket. It wasn't a dark gold fragment, a crystal, or a guest token.

It was a blood-red token.

He found it in a hidden compartment of Zhao Lei's storage bag. It was about the size of a palm. A bat with outstretched wings was engraved on the front. The back was smooth, without any writing. But Fang Yuan's doubled spiritual perception detected an anomaly within the token the moment he first touched it—a directional pulse. A weak, continuous energy pulse pointing in a fixed direction.

Fang Yuan didn't have time to deal with this thing while in the secret realm. Even after returning and going into seclusion for two weeks, he still didn't have the energy to study it.

But he remembered the location.

Northwest of the city.

"What's the city guard's attitude?" Fang Yuan asked.

"Keep the news under wraps." Manager Qian's lips curled down slightly. "Three murders, and not a single word has been released. If it weren't for the fact that some of my sales staff live in that area, I wouldn't know anything."