Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents

Zhou Kun carefully followed the extremely faint footprints to the entrance of the stairs.

However, when he stepped onto the stairs and reached the bedroom floor, his expression darkened once more.

The opponent’s Body Technique was exceptionally superb; he had landed with almost no trace.

Without the dusty environment of the secret chamber, where it was so easy to leave footprints, it was now incredibly difficult to find any more of the opponent’s tracks.

The trail was lost again!

He tried to search carefully inside and outside the bedroom, the study, and even the attic, but could no longer find any useful, trackable clues.

The thief was like a phantom, appearing and disappearing without a trace.

"Well?"

Sensing something was wrong with Zhou Kun, Chu Feng asked.

"Nephew Chu... Please forgive my incompetence. That thief’s Breath Concealment Technique is not only superb, but his Light Body Skills are also astounding. After he left the secret chamber... there are no more clues to follow!"

Zhou Kun turned around, his face burning with a mixture of shame and helplessness, and spoke in a low voice.

The repeated setbacks dealt a heavy blow to the confidence of this typically proud Steward from the Law Enforcement Hall.

Upon hearing this, Chu Feng’s expression turned completely grim. The chill emanating from him seemed to lower the surrounding temperature by several degrees.

His gaze, sharp as a knife, swept over the empty secret chamber, then fell upon the ashen-faced Huang Shiren and the ashamed Zhou Kun.

The thief hadn’t been found, and the recovery of the Huang Family’s wealth seemed a distant prospect at best.

If this news were to spread, what would become of his, Chu Feng’s, reputation? How would the factions under his command view him?

A pent-up fury churned in his chest with no outlet.

His voice sounded as if it were squeezed through his teeth.

"The city gates were sealed the moment the theft was discovered. Such a large cache of gold and jewels can’t just disappear without a trace. Steward Zhou, please use this as a lead and continue the investigation!"

"Nephew Chu, I will do my best!"

Zhou Kun agreed, though he couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to himself. ’The culprit’s methods were so clean and decisive; they were obviously well-prepared. Trying to use the gold and jewels as a lead will likely be fruitless.’

Huang Shiren, meanwhile, slumped to the ground, utterly dejected, the last glimmer of hope in his eyes completely extinguished.

...

「Two days later, Mo City.」

The midday sun cast a gentle warmth on the rustic plaque of "Hundred Herbs Hall."

Fang Han stepped into the hall with a steady gait, and the unique aroma of mixed medicinal herbs washed over him.

When the clerk inside saw Fang Han wearing the Disciple’s Robe of the Qingxuan Sect, he dared not be slow and quickly went inside to announce his arrival.

Before long, a middle-aged man with ordinary features, dressed in a Steward’s Robe, strode out. It was Steward Liu Wei.

"Nephew, thank you for your hard work on the journey!"

Steward Liu Wei’s gaze fell on the package Fang Han carried on his back.

"Steward Liu, these are the Elixirs the Sect entrusted me to deliver. Please inspect them."

Fang Han untied the package, took out the sealed wooden box, and presented it with both hands.

Steward Liu Wei took the wooden box, carefully inspected the seal, and after confirming it was intact with no signs of being tampered with, he said,

"The seal is intact. Thank you for your trouble, Nephew. This is your proof of completion for the mission. Please take it."

He took out a slip of paper stamped with the seal of Hundred Herbs Hall and handed it to Fang Han.

If he had wanted to, he certainly had ways to make things difficult for Fang Han—for example, by breaking the seal when Fang Han wasn’t looking and then insisting that it was already broken.

However, without Chu Feng pulling strings from the background, and since the two were strangers with no grudges between them, he naturally had no reason to cause trouble for Fang Han.

"It’s all part of my duty. You’re too kind, Steward Liu."

Fang Han accepted the voucher, glanced at it, tucked it into his robes, and spoke with a cupped-fist salute.

"If you’re not in a hurry, Nephew, you’re welcome to rest in the hall for a moment. Have some tea and refreshments before you go," Steward Liu Wei invited.

"I appreciate the kind offer, Steward, but it’s still early. I’m preparing to head back, so I’ll take my leave now."

Fang Han politely declined, his attitude humble.

"In that case, Nephew, journey safely."

Steward Liu Wei didn’t press him to stay and saw Fang Han to the door.

After leaving Hundred Herbs Hall, Fang Han didn’t take the same route back to the Qingxuan Sect, instead making a detour.

According to the intelligence he had purchased from the Rain Pavilion, one of the three remaining factions under Chu Feng’s command that were ripe for the picking—the Wu Family—was located in Bibo City, about three hundred li from Mo City.

SWOOSH!

He executed the Flowing Wind Shadowless Step, his body moving as fast as the wind.

After just half a day, as dusk began to fall, the silhouette of a city built by the water, its lights just beginning to appear, came into view in the distance.

Bibo City, named for the Bibo River that flowed through it, was a thriving center of trade and even more prosperous than Baiyun City.

Fang Han paid the city entrance tax and followed the crowd into the city.

After inquiring about the location of the Wu Mansion, he found an inconspicuous inn, had a simple dinner, and then sat in his room to meditate and regulate his breathing, waiting for the dead of night.

As midnight approached, all was silent.

Fang Han changed into his Night Travel Clothes, put on a mask, and silently activated the Ten Thousand Transformations Concealing Breath Technique. In an instant, his presence merged with the darkness.

He pushed open the window, slipped out as silently as a falling leaf, and melted into the deep darkness, stealthily making his way toward the Wu Mansion.

The Wu Mansion was expansive, its pavilions and towers faintly visible in the dark. Security was much tighter than at the Huang Family’s estate; the patrolling guards marched in formation, their gazes sharp.

But this was no challenge for him.

Relying on his Mastery Level Breath Concealment Technique and his Body Technique at the Minor Achievement Realm, he moved through the mansion’s shadows like a true shadow.

He easily bypassed all the visible and hidden guards, heading straight for the most impressive-looking pavilion in the residence.

According to his intelligence, this place served as both the residence and office of the Wu Family Patriarch, Wu Qiming.

A dim yellow light shone from the study window on the pavilion’s second floor, casting the silhouette of a person hunched over a desk, writing quickly, onto the window paper.

’Wu Qiming is in the study?’

Fang Han’s brow furrowed slightly. As a Seventh Grade Martial Artist, Wu Qiming possessed a sharp Spiritual Sense. It would be far too easy to be detected if he tried to search for a secret chamber nearby while Wu Qiming was awake.

After a moment of contemplation, a flash of decisiveness appeared in his eyes.

’I’ll knock him out!’

’That way, I can avoid alerting anyone and buy myself enough time to search.’

With his mind made up, he moved to the side of the study door, channeled power into his fingertips, and gently pushed the door open.

CLICK.

With an extremely faint sound, the door slid open.

At almost the same instant, Wu Qiming, who was hunched over the desk inside, seemed to sense something. He snapped his head up, about to shout:

"Who—?"

But before he could even get the word out—

SWOOSH!

A black shadow, like a bolt of lightning tearing through the night, burst in through the slightly ajar door.

The speed was beyond imagination!

’So fast!’

All Wu Qiming saw was a blur before a fierce gust of wind slammed into him.

Horrified, his instincts as a Middle-stage Seventh Grade Martial Artist kicked in, and he subconsciously tried to rise to block and counterattack.

But Fang Han was a Late Stage Seventh Grade Martial Artist. Furthermore, his Flowing Wind Shadowless Step had reached the Minor Achievement Realm, making him far faster than Martial Artists of the same level, and he was launching a sneak attack with built-up momentum.

Wu Qiming had just started to raise his arm when Fang Han closed in. His right hand, moving like a blade, carried a condensed Palm Wind and struck the back of Wu Qiming’s neck with perfect precision.

The Palm Force was contained, yet perfectly applied.

THUD—

Wu Qiming’s vision went black. He let out a muffled groan as his body went limp, slumping over the desk, unconscious.

Fang Han gently closed the study door and glanced at the unconscious Wu Qiming, confirming that he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

Then, his sharp gaze swept across the entire study.

The study was elegantly furnished. Against a wall stood a row of towering mahogany bookshelves filled with books and scrolls.

The floor was covered with a thick, plush carpet, and all the furniture was made from high-quality wood.

Fang Han held his breath and focused his senses. First, he channeled Inner Qi to his fingertips and tapped lightly and quickly on the four walls. The reverberations were solid, indicating no hidden compartments.

Next, he walked to the bookshelves and examined them closely.

Soon, his gaze settled on the floor to the right of one of the shelves.

The indentations in the plush carpet there seemed slightly misaligned with the legs of the bookshelf. Furthermore, the nearby dust distribution was a little unusual, as if the shelf had been moved recently.

"It’s here!"

Fang Han’s heart leaped. He placed both hands on the side of the bookshelf and applied a bit of force.

CREAK...

With a faint scraping sound, he slowly pushed the heavy bookshelf aside, revealing a secret door in the wall behind it!

The secret door was made of the same material as the wall; it would have been nearly impossible to spot without moving the bookshelf.

Fang Han traced the seam of the door with his fingertips and quickly found a slight protrusion. He gave it a gentle press.

CLICK.

The secret door slid inward, revealing a narrow compartment just large enough for one person to pass through.

The compartment wasn’t large, only about ten feet long and wide. Inside were nine neatly stacked camphorwood chests of various sizes.

The lids weren’t locked. He casually opened one to find it filled with gleaming gold ingots and sparkling silver ingots. A dazzling aura of wealth and treasure washed over him.

The other chests were also filled with gold, silver, and other jewels. Although the total amount wasn’t as much as the Huang Family’s haul, it was still a considerable sum.

"Deposit!"

With a thought, Fang Han summoned the system panel and, without hesitation, deposited five of the chests and all their contents.

There was a flash of light, and the chests vanished.

The wealth value on the panel began to climb.

[Wealth: 523,000 Silver]

[Wealth: 623,000 Silver]

[Wealth: 723,000 Silver]

...

Finally, the number settled.

[Wealth: 1,123,000 Silver]

"600,000 taels!"

A flicker of delight flashed in Fang Han’s eyes. The Wu Family’s hoard, while not as large as the Huang Family’s, still amounted to a solid 600,000 taels.

It was enough to push his total wealth back over the one million mark!

He quickly exited the compartment, pushed the bookshelf back into place, and wiped away any traces he might have left behind.

After one last glance at the still-unconscious Wu Qiming, he didn’t linger. In a flash, he shot out of the study like a phantom, melting into the night and silently departing the Wu Mansion.

He hadn’t killed Wu Qiming. Other than their indirect connection through Chu Feng, there was no personal enmity between them.

More than two hours later, Wu Qiming, still slumped over the desk in his study, stirred. His fingers twitched, a low groan escaped his lips, and he slowly regained consciousness.

A sharp ache from the back of his neck instantly brought back the memory of what had happened just before he passed out.

He snapped his head up and looked around. The study was empty; only the oil lamp still flickered with a dim, yellow flame.

However, when his gaze swept across the row of bookshelves, his pupils constricted violently!

’The bookshelf’s position... it seems slightly off from where I remember it. The indentations in the carpet...’

An ominous premonition drenched him like ice water!

He staggered to his feet, lunged toward the bookshelf, and shoved it aside with all his might.

When he saw the gaping secret door in the wall and the empty compartment behind it, Wu Qiming felt as if he had been struck by lightning. The blood in his veins seemed to freeze solid!

His legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed, only managing to stay upright by grabbing onto the bookshelf.

His face first flushed crimson, then instantly turned deathly pale. His lips trembled. He wanted to scream, but no sound would come out, only a strange, guttural rasp from his throat.

Grief, indignation, despair, disbelief—a torrent of emotions crashed over him like a monstrous wave, completely overwhelming him.

That was the foundation the Wu Family had built over generations! It was the very bedrock of his status and security!

’Just like that... gone?’

"AARGH—!"

A cry of ultimate agony, like the wail of a wounded beast, finally tore from his throat, echoing shrilly through the silent study.

Wu Qiming’s vision went dark. Overwhelmed by a rush of blood to his head, his body swayed violently, and he almost fainted once again.