Chapter 9: Troubles with the Local Gang

Morning arrived too soon.

Zhang Ye's eyes snapped open as the first rays of sunlight crept through the cracks in the roof. His body still ached, but the deep exhaustion from yesterday was gone. The herbal medicine had done its job his recovery was faster than before.

Xiao Lan was still curled up on the straw mat, her soft breathing steady. Zhang Ye sat up, stretched his arms, and rolled his shoulders. Sore, but manageable.

Time to get back to training.

As he stood, he felt it a faint warmth in his core. It wasn't much, just a tiny flicker of energy, but it was his qi. The first traces of power finally beginning to awaken.

A smirk tugged at his lips. Good. It's working.

Carefully, he stepped outside into the cool morning air. The village was already waking up merchants setting up stalls, farmers carrying baskets of produce, and the faint scent of tea brewing in the distance.

Zhang Ye exhaled. His next step was clear back to the forge, back to Master He, back to training.

But just as he started down the path.

A commotion.

Shouts rang out from the village square. People were gathering, voices rising in anger and fear.

Zhang Ye's eyes narrowed. Trouble.

Without hesitation, he changed direction, heading toward the noise.

As he pushed through the crowd, the scene unfolded before him.

A group of five men stood in the center of the square, their expressions smug and arrogant. They wore rough, dark-colored clothing clearly not villagers. One of them, a broad-shouldered thug with a jagged scar across his cheek, stood with his arms crossed, smirking.

At his feet, a young merchant boy barely fifteen was on the ground, clutching his stomach.

Zhang Ye's gaze darkened.

One of the thugs sneered. "This is our territory. If you want to do business in Qinghe, you pay up."

The merchant boy gritted his teeth. "I already paid last week!"

The scarred thug chuckled. "Then consider this an extra fee."

Extortion.

Zhang Ye clenched his fists. A small-time gang harassing villagers? How predictable.

One of the villagers whispered nearby. "It's the Black Wolf Gang again. Why won't they just leave?"

Another muttered, "The village chief is too scared to do anything. If we fight back, they'll come in greater numbers."

Zhang Ye smirked. So the local gang thinks they own this place?

Fine.

He'd teach them a lesson.

Zhang Ye stepped forward. "Oi."

The scarred thug turned, raising a brow. "Who the hell are you?"

Zhang Ye cracked his knuckles. "The guy who's about to ruin your day."

The village square fell silent.

All eyes turned to Zhang Ye as he stepped forward, his smirk unshaken. The scarred thug's brow twitched, his expression shifting from amused to annoyed.

"You got a death wish, kid?" the thug sneered.

Zhang Ye tilted his head. "Maybe. But if I die, it won't be to a bunch of small-time thugs like you."

The crowd gasped.

The other gang members stiffened, their hands drifting toward their weapons rusted blades, iron clubs, cheap knives.

The merchant boy on the ground stared at Zhang Ye in shock. No one ever talked back to the Black Wolf Gang.

The scarred thug chuckled. "You've got a sharp tongue." He cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. "Let's see if you can still talk after I break your jaw."

Zhang Ye exhaled. Good. He took the bait.

The thug lunged. A wide, heavy punch aimed straight at Zhang Ye's face.

Too slow. Too predictable.

Zhang Ye shifted slightly, stepping just out of reach. The punch whistled past his cheek.

The thug barely had time to react before Zhang Ye countered.

He pivoted, driving his elbow into the thug's ribs. CRACK!

The thug's body jerked. His breath hitched as pain shot through his side.

Zhang Ye wasn't done.

Before the thug could recover, Zhang Ye grabbed his outstretched arm, twisted it SNAP!

"ARGH!" The thug screamed, stumbling backward, clutching his dislocated shoulder.

The crowd gasped again.

One move. That's all it took.

Zhang Ye rolled his shoulders. "That was disappointing."

The other gang members' eyes widened.

The youngest one gulped. "B-Boss…?"

The scarred thug gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. His confidence was gone.

Zhang Ye smirked. "Still want to collect 'protection fees'?"

Silence.

Then one of the gang members turned and ran.

That was all it took. The rest followed, dragging their wounded leader with them.

The crowd erupted. Murmurs of shock, whispers of excitement.

"Did you see that?"

"That kid's strong!"

"He sent the Black Wolf Gang running!"

The merchant boy slowly stood, still clutching his stomach. "T-Thank you."

Zhang Ye grinned. "No problem."

As the crowd continued to murmur, a new voice spoke up.

"Interesting."

Zhang Ye turned.

A tall man in flowing blue robes stood nearby, watching him with sharp, calculating eyes. His posture was relaxed, but there was an unmistakable air of power around him.

Zhang Ye narrowed his eyes. Who is this?

The man smirked. "Not bad. But raw strength alone won't get you far in Murim."

Zhang Ye crossed his arms. "And who exactly are you?"

The man chuckled. "Just a traveler. But I know talent when I see it."

His eyes gleamed. "Tell me, boy… have you ever thought about joining a sect?"

The crowd fell silent again. The words hung in the air like an unsheathed blade.

Join a sect?

Zhang Ye studied the man carefully. He looked to be in his early thirties, his flowing blue robes marking him as someone of high status. A faint emblem was stitched onto his sleeve a sword piercing a cloud.

The Cloudswept Sect.

One of the mid-tier martial sects in Murim, known for their swift sword techniques and strict discipline. Not as prestigious as Wudang or Shaolin, but still a real power.

The man smiled. "Judging by that look, you recognize my sect."

Zhang Ye smirked. "A little. You guys focus on speed and technique, right?"

The man nodded. "Correct. And from what I just saw, you have potential. Strength, instincts, confidence but no refinement."

Zhang Ye chuckled. "I assume you're here to fix that?"

The man crossed his arms. "Perhaps. My name is Elder Mu Qing. I'm a traveling instructor of the Cloudswept Sect, scouting for new disciples. I've seen hundreds of fighters over the years, but very few with your natural adaptability."

He took a step closer. "Join our sect. Train under true masters. You'll be given shelter, resources, techniques everything you need to become strong."

The offer was tempting.

Training under a sect meant structured growth, proper techniques, and access to qi cultivation methods.

But it also meant rules. Obedience. Restrictions.

Zhang Ye rubbed his chin. "Let me ask you something, Elder Mu."

The older man raised a brow. "Go ahead."

Zhang Ye's smirk widened. "How many sect disciples ever find legendary treasures?"

Elder Mu's gaze sharpened. "Treasure hunting? That's a dangerous path."

"But it's a path," Zhang Ye said. "And I'm not looking for someone else's legacy, I'm looking to build my own."

Elder Mu chuckled. "You have ambition. That's good. But raw ambition without a foundation will lead to an early grave."

Zhang Ye shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll carve my name into Murim."

Elder Mu studied him for a moment. Then he sighed. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

Zhang Ye raised a brow. "A genius?"

"A troublemaker." Elder Mu shook his head. "Very well. I won't force you. But the offer stands. If you ever change your mind, seek out our sect."

He turned, stepping away. "But let me leave you with some advice the road you're walking is full of enemies. You'll need more than just talent to survive."

Zhang Ye watched him go, his smirk never fading.

"Don't worry," he muttered to himself.

I plan to be stronger than all of them.

As Elder Mu disappeared into the streets, the murmurs around the village square slowly died down. The excitement faded, and life in Qinghe Village returned to normal.

But Zhang Ye knew better.

Nothing would be normal from now on.

The Black Wolf Gang had been humiliated. They wouldn't let this go. And now, a martial sect elder had taken notice of him.

The pieces are moving.

Xiao Lan tugged his sleeve. "Brother, you really said no to a big sect?"

Zhang Ye grinned. "Of course. It'd be too easy."

She pouted. "You say weird things again."

Ah Liu, who had been watching from the sidelines, rushed over. "Zhang Ye, that was crazy! You made the Black Wolf Gang run like scared dogs!"

Zhang Ye chuckled. "They were scared dogs."

Ah Liu shook his head, still in shock. "But you know they'll come back, right? And next time, they won't just send five guys."

Zhang Ye's smirk didn't fade. "Good. Let them bring more."

Ah Liu gawked. "You're insane."

Xiao Lan sighed. "I keep telling him that."

Zhang Ye stretched, rolling his shoulders. His body was still sore from training, but the fight had left him sharper. Faster reactions. Stronger movements. He was improving.

But not fast enough.

The Black Wolf Gang would return. And if they brought real fighters, he needed more than just instinct and street smarts.

He needed cultivation.

Zhang Ye cracked his knuckles. "Looks like I need to speed up my training."

Ah Liu frowned. "What are you gonna do?"

Zhang Ye turned toward the forge.

"I'm going to make Master He work me to death."

And with that, he strode forward toward even harsher training.

The forge was already alive with heat by the time Zhang Ye arrived. Sparks flew as Master He hammered a glowing piece of metal, the rhythmic clang, clang, clang filling the air.

Zhang Ye didn't hesitate. He stepped inside, ignoring the soreness in his body. "I need to train harder."

Master He didn't even look up. "Oh? And here I thought you already wanted to die."

Zhang Ye smirked. "I might if you don't push me hard enough."

That finally got Master He's attention. He set down his hammer and turned, studying Zhang Ye. His sharp, experienced eyes didn't miss a thing.

"You fought today," Master He stated.

Zhang Ye nodded. "The Black Wolf Gang."

Master He snorted. "That explains why the village is buzzing." He leaned against the anvil. "And now they'll come back. Stronger. More prepared."

"Exactly," Zhang Ye said. "That's why I need to be stronger before they do."

Master He was silent for a moment. Then, he smirked.

"Good. You finally understand."

Zhang Ye raised a brow. "Understand what?"

Master He walked past him and picked up a heavy wooden bucket. Without warning, he tossed it at Zhang Ye.

Zhang Ye caught it barely. "What the hell?"

"Fill it with water," Master He said. "Then carry it while swinging your staff. Five hundred times."

Zhang Ye blinked. "That's"

"Double the training from yesterday? Yes."

Master He grinned. "You want to speed up your progress? Fine. But remember, strength alone won't save you."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping.

"If you truly want to survive, you need more than just brute force."

Zhang Ye's grip on the bucket tightened. He already knew that.

"I need qi."

Master He nodded. "And if you last through today's training, I'll teach you the first real step of cultivation."

Zhang Ye smirked, adjusting his grip on the bucket.

"Five hundred swings? That's all?"

Master He chuckled. "Cocky bastard."

Zhang Ye turned toward the well.

Let's see if my body can keep up with my ambition.