Martial Immortality: Starting with the Spirit Beast Scroll

Another month passed in a flash. It was now the third month of spring, a time of warmth and blooming flowers.

Zhao Lin had now been training at the Liuhe Sect for over two months.

Through grinding with iron sand and stimulation from medicinal balms, Zhao Lin had managed to molt his skin twice in a month and a half.

The first molt was relatively easy, but the second became more difficult as his skin grew tougher and more resilient.

Yuan Cheng had told him he needed to go through five molts to truly reach the First Layer of the Power Realm.

There were two major difficulties in skin refinement: first, one had to endure pain that ordinary people found unbearable. Many who began martial arts training gave up because they couldn’t take this hardship.

Second, one needed a sufficiently strong body. The stronger the body, the faster the skin transformation process.

Zhao Lin had molted twice in just over a month, a feat he attributed to the Spirit Beast Scroll; with his formerly frail constitution, he was sure he would have failed.

His martial arts training was progressing smoothly, but Zhao Lin was worried about something else—money.

The spring planting season was approaching, which meant the poll tax was due.

The poll tax, also known as a head tax, was one hundred and twenty wen for an adult male. Minors and the elderly paid half. Since Zhao Lin had turned sixteen, he was considered an adult, so the Zhao family owed a total of three hundred and sixty wen.

This wasn’t a huge sum, but they would also need to buy seeds, rent farm tools, and so on, which would be another expense.

Although his older brother had earned a little money selling bamboo wares, it definitely wasn’t enough to cover the costs of the spring planting.

Next month, Zhao Lin had to pay his second quarter’s training fees. The money he had on hand was already insufficient. If he also had to pay the poll tax and rent farm tools, he would be short by far more than just a little.

Truthfully, he didn’t want to farm at all. Not only was it back-breaking work, but their livelihood also depended on the heavens. If they had another disastrous year like the last, they would lose everything again.

It would be best if they could sell the land, but Zhao Lin knew he couldn’t possibly persuade his family to do so. That land had been cultivated by their ancestors for generations.

Although he couldn’t personally relate, he completely understood the love that farmers of this era had for their land.

He even considered going back to the docks to work as a laborer, earning money while he trained. But the pay was too low; it wasn’t nearly enough to support his martial arts training...

"The essence of a Fist Skill lies in its momentum. Never let your moves become stale. When your force is spent, use the breathing technique I taught you. Raise and lower your diaphragm, and your force will be renewed..."

In the front courtyard of the Liuhe Sect, Zhao Lin was sparring with an apprentice named Sun Xiaofan.

Zhu Huaishan’s six disciples each took on two or three apprentices. Both Zhao Lin and Sun Xiaofan were under Yuan Cheng’s supervision.

Sun Xiaofan had joined the sect over half a year ago and had long since mastered the Six Harmonies Fist, his movements being particularly fast.

When Zhao Lin sparred with him, he was often left dizzy by the other’s dazzlingly fast movements.

After more than twenty rounds of sparring, Zhao Lin took a punch to the shoulder. He immediately stopped, cupped his fist, and said, "Senior Brother Sun, your Fist Skill is superb. This junior brother admits defeat."

Sun Xiaofan grinned and said, "Junior Brother Zhao, your long fist is too fast. A few days ago, I could still beat you within ten moves, but now it’s taking me nearly thirty."

"Also, you’re too strong. I’m actually afraid of taking one of your punches."

Yuan Cheng laughed heartily. "If this were a tournament match, Xiaofan would be the winner. But if it were a fight to the death, Zhao Lin would likely be the one left standing, because your punches aren’t lethal!"

After critiquing Sun Xiaofan’s performance, Yuan Cheng turned to Zhao Lin. "Don’t always be thinking about defeating someone with a single punch. Haste makes waste. Always remember the intent of our Six Harmonies Fist: the coordinated harmony of hand, eye, body, technique, footwork, and mind."

"Yes, sir."

Zhao Lin nodded, showing he had taken the lesson to heart, and stood to the side to watch the other apprentices spar, carefully studying their techniques.

***

Before a mountain cave on Lao Gualing, dozens of fierce-looking men stood solemnly, armed with blades and spears.

Three burly men were dragging corpses out of the cave. In a short while, all seven bodies were pulled out. They were the very same mountain bandits that Zhao Lin, Zhou Pao, and the others had killed two months prior.

"Is that Diao Liu and his men?"

A middle-aged man in the crowd, who had eagle-like eyes, a hooked nose, thin lips, and a thick, curling beard, spoke up.

The bearded man had a scar on his face half a handspan long. If anyone from outside the mountains saw him, they would immediately recognize him as Drilling Mountain Leopard, the feared bandit from the Baitou Mountain area.

Wanted posters for Drilling Mountain Leopard could be seen everywhere in the counties and towns surrounding Baitou Mountain.

"Chieftain, it’s Diao Liu and his men. Looks like they’ve been dead for quite some time."

After examining the bodies, one of the burly men stood up and reported, "It’s only because of the cold weather that the bodies haven’t rotted yet."

A low murmur spread through the bandits.

"Damn it, what kind of grudge was this? They’re hacked up so badly I can barely recognize them!"

"Hidden in such a secluded cave... no wonder we couldn’t find them after searching for so long!"

Drilling Mountain Leopard’s expression was grim. He walked over to the bodies for a closer look and mused, "Diao Liu was clever. He swallowed a musk pill before he died."

"We should have been able to find him quickly, but the heavy snow blocked the cave entrance. The scent of the musk couldn’t get out, so even the Fragrant Mink couldn’t locate this place until the snow melted."

As Drilling Mountain Leopard finished speaking, he let out a whistle. A silver-gray ferret crawled out from Diao Liu’s clothes and scurried up his leg to his shoulder.

The Fragrant Mink was a type of northern ferret with an extremely sensitive sense of smell and a fondness for fragrant things.

The bandits raised these ferrets by feeding them musk from a young age. As a result, they could track the scent of musk from a hundred li away.

Therefore, the bandits often used them for tracking and communication.

The Third Shopkeeper, a man with a fleshy, brutal face, holding a mountain-cleaving axe, said viciously, "Damn it, who dared to kill my brothers? If I get my hands on them, I’ll chop them to pieces!"

The Second Shopkeeper stepped forward, looked for a moment, and shook his head. "The bodies are this mutilated... I’m afraid it won’t be easy to find the killer."

Drilling Mountain Leopard didn’t speak, instead turning his gaze to a man beside him. "What does Tuo Tianliang say?"

Tuo Tianliang was the bandits’ strategist, their advisor.

However, unlike the strategists in operas—who were depicted as refined scholars with feather fans and silk turbans—this bandit strategist was not only large and fat but also had an ugly face.

Tuo Tianliang chuckled. "The perpetrator is quite clever. Not only did they mutilate the bodies beyond recognition, but they also hid them in such a concealed location."

"But just as the wind leaves a sound and a goose leaves a trace, it’s impossible to erase every track. They were bound to leave some evidence behind."

The Third Shopkeeper said impatiently, "What evidence? Spit it out."

Tuo Tianliang pointed at the corpses. "The mutilated bodies are themselves evidence. If the killers were from outside Baitou Mountain, they could have just left after committing the crime. Why would they go to the trouble of destroying the bodies and hiding them in a secluded cave?"

Hearing this, the Third Shopkeeper said, "Are you saying the killers are from Qinghe County?"

Tuo Tianliang replied, "It’s highly likely. They’re from within a hundred li at most. Otherwise, there would be no need to expend so much effort."

Drilling Mountain Leopard nodded in agreement. "That makes sense. Anything else?"

"Yes!"

Tuo Tianliang took the scabbard from his waist and used it to turn over a body. "I fear the killers were in the mountains to hunt."

"Look here: Gao Laoba, Hu Mazi, and Diao Liu all have arrow wounds on their bodies."

"The authorities don’t prohibit blades and spears, but ordinary people aren’t allowed to carry bows and arrows. Only hunters in the mountains can carry bows."

The Third Shopkeeper frowned. "Hunters? Then why would they clash with Diao Liu? We’ve always minded our own business and stayed out of their way."

Tuo Tianliang shook his head. "That’s hard to say. Perhaps they were after the same prey, or maybe they had a past grudge and he was recognized."

"I specifically told him to wear a mask when he went out, but he said no one would be in the mountains in the dead of winter."

The Second Shopkeeper stroked his chin in thought and asked, "That’s a possibility, but would ordinary hunters have the skill to kill our men?"

"Diao Liu was at the Second Layer of the Power Realm; he wasn’t made of clay. The brothers with him were all skilled fighters too. Don’t tell me they ran into a whole hunting party out on a drive?"