55-Extraction.
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"The stance technique is the body, but the breathing method is the root. Both are indispensable. This manual has been tampered with—it's unreliable. If you practice it wrong, you might die without even knowing how."
One of the Seventh Rank masked martial artists spoke with a grim expression.
Everyone knew that martial arts manuals were a matter of precision— even the slightest error could cause irreparable harm to the body.
That's why no one bothered with Skinny Monkey's manuals at the black market.
"Damn it, I'll kill him!"
One masked figure raised his knife, ready to chop Du Chong down to vent his rage.
*Bang!*
Zhong Lin flicked an iron caltrop, knocking the blade aside, and said coldly, "Foolish. Kill him, and how will we complete the manual? You two, take him—we're moving."
The only two Eighth Rank martial artists didn't dare dawdle. They hoisted Du Chong, one on each side, and followed Zhong Lin. The others sheathed their weapons and hurried after.
After a few leaps, they entered a secluded courtyard. The area was remote—the nearby residents had long fled to the countryside to escape the chaos.
"Haha… *cough, cough*…"
Du Chong was roughly tossed to the ground. By now, he knew death was certain, yet he summoned the last of his noble upbringing's bravado.
"My Du family's blood-condensing technique—is that something you lowly peasants can touch? Even if you drag me here, it's useless. Do you dare practice it? Haha…"
Du Chong's wild laughter rang out, tinged with hysteria—the final madness of a man at life's end.
The surrounding masked figures stayed silent. This was exactly why they hadn't planned to interrogate him. Even if they did, how could they tell truth from lies?
This wasn't a math problem—mistakes could be corrected with a redo.
Martial arts manuals, especially blood-condensing ones, were different. A wrong move could leave you paralyzed at best, or at worst, your qi and blood would boil, killing you on the spot.
"Think I can't deal with you? In my hands, I'll show you what it means to wish for death."
The masked man who'd wanted to kill Du Chong stepped forward again. He approached Du Chong, pressing his hands over his arms, shoulder blades, thighs, and ankles, then dislocated his jaw. With a series of sharp *cracks*, Du Chong's limbs twisted into unnatural shapes.
His earlier loud laughter turned to a ghastly pallor, his face contorting, eyes bulging with bloodshot veins. In moments, his clothes were soaked with sweat.
With his jaw unhinged, all he could muster were pitiful whimpers.
All eyes turned to Zhong Lin, awaiting his next move.
Zhong Lin slowly pulled a porcelain bottle from his coat.
"Good thing I prepared a backup plan, or I might've really walked away empty-handed. Straighten his bones."
The bottle contained a soul-bewitching drug Zhong Lin had asked Old Xu to concoct, enhanced by Zhong Lin's own tweaks—a stronger version.
Its effect was akin to "truth serum" from his past life, putting someone into a half-awake, half-dreaming state to extract secrets.
Originally, Zhong Lin's plan was to kidnap a noble scion and use this to pry out a middle-tier blood-condensing technique if he couldn't find a manual. Now it was coming in handy.
Du Chong, his bones reset, was a limp heap on the ground, hovering between life and death.
Zhong Lin crouched beside him, pulled a pill from the bottle, and stuffed it into his mouth. In moments, Du Chong's eyes grew hazy.
"Come on, recite the breathing method for the *Red Sun Stance Technique* silently," Zhong Lin murmured near his ear.
Du Chong mumbled a couple of times before his mouth opened and closed, uttering a string of awkward, tongue-twisting words.
"In utmost stillness, movement stirs as the first yang returns; the medicine births divine awareness, its wondrous secrets unlocking the spirit.
A faint yang emerges, tender and not yet ripe for harvest; the medicine solidifies, full and radiant on the fifteenth day.
Harvest it swiftly lest the moment slips away; wait too long, and the chance is lost forever.
…"
As Du Chong spoke, the group huddled around the manual, cross-checking each word against the smeared sections. With every match, their breathing grew heavier.
"Stop!"
Zhong Lin suddenly barked, cutting Du Chong off mid-sentence.
The five masked figures looked at him—some with anger, others with confusion—unsure what he was up to now.
"Everyone…"
Zhong Lin spoke again in his aged, raspy voice. "The value of a blood-condensing technique needs no explanation. This old man is willing to share it with you, but my generosity isn't free, wouldn't you agree?"
"What do you want?"
"I won't take advantage. Show me what's in your sacks—I'll pick one thing from each. How's that?" Zhong Lin said with a smile.
Each masked figure carried a bulging sack, clearly stuffed with spoils from the Du estate. Letting such a chance slip without skimming something off them would be a waste—black eats black, why not take it?
The air grew tense and silent, reluctance written in every pair of eyes.
"Fine, I agree," a Seventh Rank masked figure rasped. "I've chased a blood-condensing technique for twenty years—I won't miss this chance."
He removed his sack, spreading it out on the ground.
It held gold, silver, and jewels—nothing else.
Zhong Lin picked out a gold ingot, weighing twenty taels.
Seeing this, the others gave up resisting, opening their sacks for Zhong Lin to choose from.
No choice—they were fish on the chopping block. They needed Zhong Lin for the full *Red Sun Stance Technique*.
And, most importantly, Zhong Lin was stronger—they couldn't beat him.
Five people.
One gold ingot, one black dagger, three martial techniques.
The dagger was pitch-black, as if it absorbed light itself, its edge gleaming coldly. A light brush sliced Zhong Lin's finger.
A Seventh Rank Bone-Tempering Realm martial artist, impervious to arrows, cut by a mere dagger—this was a divine weapon!
Paired with the Instant Kill Technique, its lethality would soar.
When Zhong Lin chose the dagger, its owner's heart bled.
The other three were techniques looted from the Du estate:
*Red Sun Palm*, *Eight-Step Cicada Chase*, *Lotus Gold Needle*.
A palm technique, a movement technique, and a hidden weapon technique. The biggest surprise was *Red Sun Palm*.
A qi and blood technique designed to complement the *Red Sun Stance Technique*, far beyond ordinary martial skills.
"Now are we good?"
"Of course."
Zhong Lin was thoroughly satisfied.
The *Red Sun Stance Technique* was soon completed, and the five masked figures each used their own methods to copy it, wasting no time.
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