100: Chapter 100 Being Watched

"Do you have the goods?"

Chen Mo didn't waste words. He reached into his robe, pulled out a banknote, and slapped it onto the counter.

Five hundred taels.

A note from the 'Tongbao Bank,' redeemable on sight.

The shopkeeper's eyes lit up.

In this day and age, money was king. Whether you were a mud-legged peasant from the Outer City or a Young Master from the Inner City, silver didn't bite.

"Yes! Of course we do!"

The shopkeeper immediately switched to a beaming smile and rounded the counter. "Please wait a moment, honored guest. I'll go fetch the goods for you right away. They're all of the finest quality, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!"

Before long, three exquisite wooden boxes were placed before Chen Mo.

Chen Mo opened them to take a look.

The tiger bone paste was dark red and translucent, emitting a musky, pungent scent that wasn't unpleasant; instead, it made one's blood surge. The black python bile was stored in a porcelain bottle, appearing viscous when shaken. The Red Blood Ginseng had intact roots and a color as vivid as blood.

They were indeed high-quality items.

They were ten thousand times better than the fakes in the Outer City that used pig bones to impersonate tiger bones.

"Wrap them up."

Chen Mo put away the banknote and added, "Also, give me ten catties of 'iron sand,' the kind that has been stir-fried three times."

The shopkeeper paused for a moment. "iron sand? Is the honored guest planning to practice the Iron Sand Palm?"

"Just practicing my hands," Chen Mo replied perfunctorily.

In reality, it was to practice the 'Jade Shattering Hand'.

Although this technique was called 'Jade Shattering,' that was the effect after it was mastered. The process of practicing it involved grinding and smashing one's hands as if they were blocks of iron.

Ordinary sand was too light to build the toughness of the skin membrane. One had to use this specially prepared iron sand mixed with medicinal liquid, plunging and striking day and night, to train the hands to be as hard as metal.

"Coming right up!"

The shopkeeper moved nimbly and quickly had everything packaged.

Chen Mo carried the parcel, feeling its weight in his hand.

This trip had cost him more than half of his net worth.

But he didn't feel the slightest bit of regret.

Silver in one's pocket was a dead thing, but silver eaten into the stomach or trained into the muscles was one's very life.

Leaving the Baicao Pavilion, Chen Mo went to the 'Divine Weapon Workshop' next door.

He didn't buy a saber.

Although his battered saber had a rolled edge, he was used to it. Moreover, a truly good saber would easily cost a thousand taels of silver, which he couldn't afford yet.

He bought a whetstone.

This wasn't an ordinary whetstone; it was 'Lapis Lazuli'.

This stone originated from the Cold Mountains of the far north. Its texture was extremely hard, and using it to sharpen a blade could make the edge sharper and less prone to rolling.

A palm-sized stone cost fifty taels.

When Chen Mo paid, he didn't even blink.

To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools.

One cannot skimp on the tools used for killing.

...

The sun was leaning toward the west.

The hustle and bustle of the Inner City began to slowly settle down.

In the restaurants lining the streets, lanterns were lit, and the faint sound of string and wind instruments drifted out. That was the beginning of the night life for the wealthy.

But for Chen Mo, this was an eviction notice.

Outer City Runners had to leave the city before sunset.

With his parcel on his back, he walked back along the path he had come.

As he passed a clothing shop, he stopped for a moment.

A white fox-fur cloak hung in the window, its fur pure and without a single stray hair.

He thought of his younger sister at home.

The Little Girl had a weak constitution, and every winter her hands and feet would break out in chilblains from the cold.

"How much?" Chen Mo asked, pointing at the cloak.

"One hundred and twenty taels," the clerk quoted a price offhandedly without even looking at him.

Chen Mo felt the remaining loose silver in his pocket.

There was less than a hundred taels left.

Not enough.

He remained silent for a while, then turned and left.

It didn't matter.

Next time.

Next time he came, he would not only buy this cloak but also buy the entire shop.

As he reached the city gate, that sense of sharp class distinction hit him once again.

Very few people were leaving the city, mostly 'lower-class' people like him who had come in to run errands.

Many people were entering, however—luxuriously decorated carriages carrying wealthy merchants returning from out of town, or Young Masters and ladies returning from outings in the countryside.

The armored guards at the gate bowed and scraped to those carriages, their faces full of smiles.

When it was Chen Mo's turn, their faces instantly dropped.

"Hurry up! What are you dawdling for?"

An armored guard urged impatiently.

Chen Mo said nothing, keeping his head down as he walked quickly across the drawbridge.

When his feet stepped back onto the potholed, muddy ground of the Outer City, Chen Mo let out a long breath.

That nauseating smell of rancid water entered his nostrils once again.

But he felt grounded.

The Inner City was fine, but it was someone else's paradise.

The Outer City was wretched, but it was his hunting ground.

He looked back.

Under the setting sun, the towering black city wall looked like a giant beast that had swallowed all the light.

Inside the wall, there were bright lights and wine, a world of decadence.

Outside the wall, darkness descended, and a hundred ghosts walked the night.

Chen Mo tightened the parcel on his back. The medicinal herbs and iron sand inside were his capital to carve a path of blood out of this muddy pit.

"Tie Shan..."

He softly muttered the name.

Earlier on the street, he had felt that sensation of being watched.

It was a gaze filled with killing intent.

Although he didn't know why the other party hadn't made a move, Chen Mo knew that a grudge had been formed.

Fine.

Since he wanted to climb up, he would have to step on a few heads.

Tie Shan's head looked quite hard; it should serve as a decent stepping stone.

He reached into his robe and touched the cold Lapis Lazuli.

Just as Chen Mo stepped out of the vermilion gates of the Inner City, his back began to itch.

It wasn't that he hadn't bathed; it was because he was being followed.

The feeling was subtle, like several flies circling around you—they didn't bite, but they were disgusting.

He didn't look back, nor did he stop walking; he only slightly tightened his grip on the parcel.

In the shadows of the street corners, several figures shrank back.

This wasn't just one group of people.

The most conspicuous were those men in short-sleeved tunics; they were Tie Shan's people. They didn't even try to hide, acting as if they were just short of using a megaphone to shout, "I'm tailing you." Their orders were to "watch," so they just stood there like wooden posts.

But the other two groups were more interesting.

One group blended into the crowd, pretending to be idle onlookers or peddlers carrying shoulder poles. But their eyes were wrong—too shifty, darting toward Chen Mo and then quickly away. These were domestic dogs; they looked fierce but were actually afraid of strangers.

Those were the Liu Family's people.

There was another group that was almost invisible.

They seemed to have merged into the dust in the corners, keeping their breathing to a minimum. If Chen Mo hadn't practiced that nameless breathing technique, which made his five senses several times sharper than an ordinary person's, he never would have noticed that the old man selling candied haws a hundred paces away was actually a martial artist.

That was the Black Robe Guard.

The corner of Chen Mo's mouth curled slightly.

Very good.

He had finally managed to stir up some ripples in the stagnant pond of Pingyang City.

...

Inner City, Liu Manor.

Liu Feng was smashing things.

A fine blue-and-white porcelain teacup was no different from a roof tile in his hands; it shattered on the floor with a loud crack, sending fragments flying everywhere.

The servant kneeling on the ground pulled his head in, not daring to even breathe loudly, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

"Five hundred taels?"

Liu Feng's voice was shrill, tinged with a hint of hysteria. "Where would a vermin from the Outer City get five hundred taels? Huh? What are you bunch of useless fools even for? You can't even investigate a simple background properly!"