Chapter 12 Yuan Clan
As Su Zhen stepped out of the cave in the evening, he let out a heavy sigh and gazed at the first stars piercing through the veil of the darkening crimson sky. At fourteen, he was already as tall as an average grown man, his athletic build honed by martial arts and alchemy.
After a year of practicing the Hidden Yang Fire, his entire body had undergone a rebirth—his skin now smooth as newborn flesh, glowing with a faint rosy sheen. The hardened knuckles and shins of a brawler had faded, his facial features refined into a striking, delicate elegance. His outfit was a mismatch ensemble—a simple cotton shirt cinched by an expensive black silk sash, a plain short gray robe over it, and wide blue trousers tucked into fine leather boots. Su Zhen tried to balance practicality with not looking outright destitute. His long black hair was tied in a topknot, secured with a blue ribbon, and cascaded past his shoulders. A silk pouch hung from his belt, holding needles, pills, and silver. In his hands was Elder Ge's sword, sheathed in black scabbard.
The sword looked expensive. Unnaturally expensive. In his hands, it looked like golden horns on a village cow. And it was sure to attract envious and ill-intentioned glances from people of questionable morals and reputation.
"Sigh... I bet plenty will try to steal it... But I can't hide it forever. I can defend myself now." Su Zhen reassured himself. "I should buy a proper sword belt."
His calm, mundane thoughts were immediately overshadowed by the memory of Elder Ge's words.
"Demons... A farm planet... How horrifying! What a nightmare! " Su Zhen shuddered at the thought and tried to push it away, at least for now, as he pushed through the thick underbrush in the last crimson rays of the setting sun.
Finally reaching the gravel road leading from the mines to the city, Su Zhen brushed off the cobwebs and leaves and headed toward town. Three figures were visible on the road near the town entrance.
"There! There he is!" their voices carried.
"Shit..." Su Zhen already sensed trouble.
The three young men rushed up to him, and one stepped forward, clasping his fist in greeting.
"I am Yuan Liao, son and disciple of Yuan Hou. These are my comrades, Hei Nao and Ding Zheng Lan."
They were all a year or two older than Su Zhen. Yuan Liao was taller and intimidatingly muscular. All three wore typical martial arts disciples' attire—loose belted shirts, trousers, and cloth shoes.
"Pleasure. I'm Su Zhen, disciple of healer Bai Xiao. It's late, and I should be heading home." Su Zhen replied and moved to walk past them.
"Hold up, Su Zhen. Word is, you're some kind of martial arts prodigy—that at thirteen, you beat an armed warrior to death." Yuan Liao blocked his path with an arm.
"A-Liao, maybe we shouldn't... He's got a sword..." Hei Nao whispered.
"Shut up! Leave if you're scared!" Yuan Liao snapped.
"So, was he your relative or something? What's it to you?"
"Every girl in town won't stop talking about you since then. We want to see if the rumors hold up."
"Tell your girls it's all lies. I don't care."Su Zhen replied coldly and shoved the bully aside.
"You—" Liao hissed.
As Su Zhen took two more steps, Yuan Liao suddenly leapt forward, aiming a sneak kick at his head. Unexpectedly, Su Zhen sidestepped sharply, pivoting and lifting his own leg. His foot whistled toward Liao's shoulder.
Liao caught a glimpse of it—and the fluttering edges of Su Zhen's robe—for a split second, but could do nothing. Not that he would have—the kick was aimed at his shoulder, hardly a dangerous strike.
But he was dead wrong.
The moment Su Zhen's foot delivered, a loud crack echoed—his shoulder snapped like a dry branch. Then another—his ribs. The sheer force folded Yuan Liao like a paper doll.
Hei Nao and Zheng Lan, who had expected Su Zhen to crumple under A-Liao's strike and had been ready to swoop in like vultures, froze in shock, too stunned to fight. Their friend lay on the ground, wailing loudly, snot bubbling from his nose.
"Impossible... Impossible... I've mastered the first level of the inner form... AAAAAH!" His sobs reminded Su Zhen of when little Ding had once fallen off a pig, trying to ride it.
His friends scrambled around him, unsure how to help.
"You're a real scum. Attacking from behind." Su Zhen said calmly. "Let that be a lesson, idiot. If it were someone else, they might've gutted you for that."
With that, Su Zhen turned and leisurely walked toward the city, accompanied by curses and the fading cries of the wannabe 'master'.
***
Hei Nao and Ding Zheng Lan barely dragged their friend back to the Yuan family estate—also a martial arts school. As they carried him in, senior disciples and Uncle Shu rushed over. The pain had left him nearly unconscious.
"What happened?!" Uncle Shu was furious.
"It was that kid, Su Zhen! He beat him up!" Hei Nao stammered, sticking to the story he and Liao had agreed on during the way back.
"Go get Master Yuan! Now!" Yuan Shu ordered. "Get him to the infirmary!"
Once A-Liao had somewhat recovered from the painkillers and the healer had set his arm in a splint, Master Yuan stormed in.
"Son! What happened? These two idiots can't explain a damn thing!"
"It was Su Zhen—the kid they say took down a mine guard when he was just thirteen!"
"What?! He's just a brat! Must've been pure luck!"
"He had a sword—threatened to kill me if I fought back..."
"What nonsense is this? Why didn't you just run?!"
"There... There was also his master—Bai Xiao..."
***
Bai Xiao was in high spirits. Stretching after waking, he yawned loudly, covering his mouth with his fist.
The morning was quiet and warm, milky mist clinging to the ground. Golden sunlight filtered through the thin rice-paper windows into his room. Bai Xiao washed his face in the basin prepared the night before, threw on a light cotton shirt and robe, relieved himself, and headed to the garden. A rare, content smile played on his lips.
He hummed an old peasant tune from Northern Hou under his breath:
"Sha li, sha li~ The birds are all awake,
Sha li, sha li~ But my love still sleeps..."
Su Zhen was already watering the flowers.
"Good morning, Master." Su Zhen greeted with a smile, adjusting his straw hat.
"I really should've taken on a disciple sooner—so much free time now." Bai Xiao mused warmly.
His attention was fixed on the goldthread flowers he'd been cultivating, adjusting their conditions. The ones under the plane tree seemed to thrive best.
Bai Xiao's hair had noticeably darkened over the past year. The Goldthread Pill, combined with moxibustion, needles, qigong, and various decoctions, had completely cured his illness. And that deity had even promised to teach him longevity techniques—if Su Zhen remained unharmed...
"Well, so far, so good." Bai Xiao thought, watching Su Zhen yawn.
He returned to his room. The iron strongbox in the corner was tightly locked. Taking the key from the table, he opened it, and for a moment, the scent of wealth filled the air—neat silver ingots, gold coins, and several vials of precious pills. He took one vial, slammed the lid shut, locked it, and, with a light step, headed to the kitchen to check on Auntie Sun and drink some tea.
Life felt perfect—herbs grew, money multiplied, his disciple was alive and well, and his enemies were far away.
Nothing warned of the coming storm. Until—
"BAAAAAAAAIIIIII XIAOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
A deafening roar erupted from the direction of the town street.