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Chapter 44 - Chapter 44: Invitation to Biquan City

Zhang Fangzhou scoffed.

"What can the He family do? They bullied folks in Azurecloud, but against a Golden Core cultivator? Even the Zheng or Changgong clans wouldn't dare cross one! They pissed their pants—thought the cultivator would slaughter them all! Sold every asset yesterday and fled toward Falling Leaf City last night."

"Fled?!"

Lin Feng's chopsticks froze mid-air.

"The entire He clan left Azurecloud?"

"Gone before dawn," Zhang Fangzhou confirmed. "The city's buzzing. Some bet they won't escape—that the Golden Core will hunt them down en route..."

...I'd waste time chasing them? Lin Feng's temple twitched. As long as they leave me alone, good riddance.

He recalled entering Seven Peaks Forest that night—witnessed, then. No wonder the woods felt empty yesterday. Everyone feared the "Golden Core."

His plans for countering the He family's revenge now seemed laughable. The mere rumor of a Golden Core had sent them scrambling. In a backwater like Azurecloud, such power meant invincibility.

Let them believe the lie. Safer this way.

The revelation lifted a weight off Lin Feng's chest. He savored the braised pork with renewed relish.

Between bites, he learned Long Chengkong hailed from Biquan City—merely passing through Azurecloud. Yang Ge's invitation offered him a guarded return.

As plates emptied, Yang Ge leaned forward, fingers knotted.

"Brother Lin... a presumptuous request. May I speak?"

"Of course."

Yang Ge drew a black pouch heavy with clinking stones.

"Fifty low-grade spirit stones. A humble thanks for saving us." He pushed it toward Lin Feng. "And... I wish to hire you as escort to Biquan City. If this is too little, I'll compensate more there. Even if you refuse, keep the stones."

"Escort? To Biquan?"

Lin Feng's refusal died on his tongue.

Biquan... Why not?

His mind raced:

Returning to Azurecloud meant stagnant cultivation.

Biquan was a Tier 3 Cultivation Hub—larger, richer, teeming with Golden Core experts.

Upgrades: A Tier 3 spirit-gathering array would accelerate his progress. Junk artifact markets might yield treasures. New combat techniques were scarce in Azurecloud.

Armor, gauntlets, bracers—all could be reforged into peak-grade artifacts.

"I've longed to see Biquan," Lin Feng nodded, pocketing the pouch. "Your offer comes timely. Fifty stones suffice."

Yang Ge exhaled—clouds parting. "Splendid! Lodgings and amenities in Biquan are my treat!"

Zhang Fangzhou eyed the spirit stones, envy flashing. Fifty... Our trio earned thirty. Yet awe drowned jealousy. Lin Feng's casual slaying of the Tier 2 bear had seared respect into his bones.

Preparations began. Lin Feng surveyed the seven lumbering cargo wagons. With a flick of his wrist, four spatial rings materialized.

"Use these."

One by one, goods vanished into dimensional pockets:

He Wenyang's ring (spacious, looted) swallowed textiles.

He Yuan's smaller ring absorbed dyed silks.

Two common rings devoured pottery and tools.

The caravan shed its bulk like a molting serpent. Empty wagons now glided over roots and ruts. Yang Ge beamed—they'd reach Biquan a day early.

Dusk found them exiting Seven Peaks Forest's eastern fringe. Only stray Tier 1 beasts had challenged them—swiftly dispatched.

They camped beside a stone-paved highway, stars piercing the coal-black sky. Dawn brought renewed travel.

Biquan lay four days ahead. Relief hung thick—until the third noon.

CRACK!

A felled oak blocked the road. Fifty bandits emerged from the treeline, blades glinting. At their helm rode three cultivators atop armored dire-wolves.

The lead rider, scar carving his cheek like lightning, leveled a blood-crusted axe.

"Your cargo. Or your guts."

Long Chengkong's whisper cut the silence:

"Dire Wolf Pack. The scarred one—'Blood-Axe' Karga. Foundation Establishment, Fifth Layer."

Zhang Fangzhou's knuckles whitened on his spear. Yang Ge's attendants trembled.

Lin Feng stepped forward. Xiao Qiu peeked from his collar, golden eyes slitting.

"Move the log," he said. "Last warning."

Karga spat. "Kill the mouthy one first."

Three archers drew. Fletchings kissed cheeks.

Lin Feng's ring flashed. A crimson flying sword—plundered from He Wenyang—hovered, humming like a stirred hornet's nest.

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