The steam from the hot stream curled around Yoriichi's ankles, partially obscuring the form of Jia Lie Ao, who lay defeated in the mud.
For a few long, agonizing seconds, silence reigned over the Southern Pass.
Yoriichi stood looming over the 1-Star Dou Zhe. His red eyes were unfocused, lost in a rapid mental calculation regarding metallurgy costs and blacksmithing fees. But to Jia Lie Ao, staring up from the ground with a bruised jaw and a shattered ego, that silence was the prelude to execution.
"He's thinking," Jia Lie Ao thought, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "He's deciding how to dispose of me. This is Xiao Clan territory. If he kills me here and dumps my body in the Magic Beast Mountains... no one would know. My father wouldn't even find a bone."
Sweat mixed with the blood on Jia Lie Ao's face. He wanted to beg, but fear had paralyzed his tongue. He had brought wolves to hunt a rabbit, only to find out the rabbit was a tiger in disguise.
Finally, Yoriichi blinked. The hollow killing intent vanished, replaced by a mundane, practical look.
"Hm..." Yoriichi hummed, looking down. "Since you guys started this fight and came to the Xiao Clan's area... I need a form of compensation from you guys."
Jia Lie Ao's eyes widened. Compensation?
Yoriichi bent slightly, extending his bandaged hand.
"The pouch," Yoriichi said calmly.
Jia Lie Ao didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He fumbled at his belt with trembling fingers, unhooked the heavy pouch of gold he had used to try and bribe Yoriichi earlier, and practically shoved it into the boy's hand.
"Take it!" Jia Lie Ao rasped. "Take it all!"
Yoriichi weighed the pouch in his hand.
Clink. Clink.
It was heavy. At least five hundred gold coins.
Jia Lie Ao let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. A wave of immense relief washed over him.
"He... he just wants money?" Jia Lie Ao thought, almost laughing hysterically. "This man isn't so ruthless after all. He didn't break my fingers. He didn't cripple my cultivation. He didn't demand an arm."
In the brutal world of the Dou Qi Continent, losing a fight usually meant losing a limb or one's cultivation foundation. If a few gold coins were the price to walk away with his life and limbs intact, it was the greatest bargain in history.
Yoriichi nodded, satisfied. He then turned his gaze to the other six boys who were slowly picking themselves up from the gravel, clutching their stomachs and groaning.
He walked over to the nearest one—an Ao Ba clan disciple.
"Compensation," Yoriichi stated simply.
The boy, terrified by seeing his leader defeated so easily, immediately emptied his pockets.
"Here! I have silver! And a Tier 1 recovery pill!"
Yoriichi took the silver. He inspected the pill, sniffed it, deemed it low-quality, but took it anyway. It could be sold or maybe use for himself later.
He moved to the next one. And the next.
It was a systematic shakedown. Yoriichi moved with the efficiency of a tax collector. He checked pockets, patted down robes, and collected a surprising amount of loose change.
"Gold... Silver... a jade pendant..." Yoriichi tallied his loot mentally. "They are really rich. How do they have all this money? Is this just pocket money for them? They sure are well pampered."
He compared it to his own situation—relying on his sister's allowance and eating leftovers—and felt a twinge of economic injustice. These boys wore silk and carried gold to pay for beatings.
The six lackeys, seeing that the "Demon" only wanted their wallets and not their souls, sighed in collective relief. They handed over their valuables with odd eagerness, just happy that the red-eyed monster wasn't going to kick them in the head again.
Finally, Yoriichi stood in the center of the clearing, his sleeves weighed down by the "donations."
The seven bullies stood awkwardly in a semi-circle, dirt-stained and bruised, waiting for permission to leave.
Yoriichi looked at the heavy pouch in his hand. Then he looked at their pathetic, fearful faces.
A sudden wave of heat rose up his neck.
"Eh?" Yoriichi thought, a sudden realization hitting him. "I just beat up a bunch of children and took their lunch money. How... shameful."
He was Yoriichi Tsugikuni. The strongest swordsman. A man who lived by a code of honor. And now, in this new life, he was essentially committing daylight robbery.
"I need the money very much," he reasoned with himself. "For the sword. For survival. But... to take without giving? That is the path of a bandit, not a warrior."
He couldn't do it. His conscience wouldn't let him walk away like this. There had to be an exchange. A transaction of value.
He stood there for a few seconds, debating.
"What do I have that they want? I cannot give them pills. I cannot give them status."
He looked at Jia Lie Ao, recalling the clumsy way the boy had used his Dou Qi. He looked at the Ao Ba disciples, recalling their terrible footwork.
"Ah. I have knowledge."
He sighed. It was a hassle, but it was the only way to balance the scales of karma.
"Listen!" Yoriichi said loudly, his voice cutting through the steam.
The seven boys flinched, standing at attention.
"Since I have taken something from you," Yoriichi announced, lifting the money pouch, "I will also give something back. I do not accept charity, and I do not steal."
The boys looked confused. 'You just stole from us,' their eyes seemed to say, though none dared speak it.
"Come here to this place for a week continuously," Yoriichi continued, his tone shifting to that of an instructor. "At this same time. Dawn."
He pointed a bandaged finger at Jia Lie Ao.
"Your Dou Qi structure of flow is porous and inefficient. And you..." He pointed at the Ao Ba disciple. "Your balance is atrocious. I will train you guys. I will teach you better Dou Qi circulation and some combat moves. It will be very helpful for you, as you can see from my performance earlier."
Silence.
The only sound was the bubbling stream.
The seven bullies exchanged glances. They looked at Yoriichi, then at each other.
Train us?
The guy who just destroyed us in ten seconds... wants to teach us how he did it?
Jia Lie Ao's mind raced. He was a bully, yes. He was arrogant, yes. But he was also a cultivator. He lived in a world where strength was god.
The gap between the 9th Star of Dou Zhi Qi and a true Dou Zhe was massive—even if it looked small on paper. It was the difference of a Major Realm. For Xiao Ning to do this meant he possessed something terrifying—perhaps a Secret Technique far superior to the Huang Rank trash the Jia Lie clan taught him....
And now, for the price of a bag of gold, he was offering to teach it?
Jia Lie Ao's eyes lit up. The humiliation of defeat vanished, replaced by the greed for power.
"BOSS!"
Jia Lie Ao shouted. He scrambled forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and bowed deeply—a perfect ninety-degree angle.
"Boss!" Jia Lie Ao yelled again, his voice cracking with excitement. "We will be grateful if you train us useless guys! Please!"
The other six froze.
Snicker.
One of the black-robed boys covered his mouth. Seeing their arrogant leader bowing to the "Cripple Xiao Ning" was objectively funny.
But then, the gears in their heads started turning.
"Wait... Boss Jia Lie is cunning. Why is he bowing?"
They remembered the fight. They remembered Yoriichi vanishing from their sight. They remembered the pain of his strikes.
"He is strong," the realization hit them like a brick. "If we learn from him... we can beat up the other gangs. We can pass the clan exams."
They mentally cursed Jia Lie Ao for being faster on the uptake. This was a golden opportunity!
"Boss!"
The other six stumbled forward, tripping over the gravel in their haste. They lined up beside Jia Lie Ao and bowed in unison.
"Boss! We will be grateful! Please train us!"
Yoriichi stood there, blinking.
His face turned strange. The stoic mask cracked just a little, revealing genuine confusion.
"These all turned from angry enemies to strangely excited disciples in the span of ten seconds," Yoriichi thought, watching the top of their heads. "Why are they shouting? Why 'Boss'?"
He sighed, a long, weary exhalation.
"Such is youth," he philosophized, shaking his head. "Mercurial. Emotional. They never cease to want to learn, even from the person who just beat them. It is... admirable, in a way."
He watched their still-bowed figures. He felt the weight of the gold in his pocket—it felt lighter now, justified by the burden of responsibility he had just accepted.
"Since they are so respectful, and since they have paid in advance... I suppose I should teach them a few little tricks. Perhaps the basics of 'Total Concentration' breathing, or simply how to stand without falling over."
"All right," Yoriichi said, raising his hand. "Please, all raise your heads."
The group snapped upright, eyes shining with expectation. They looked like puppies waiting for a treat, ignoring the fact that they were bruised and bleeding.
"Call me just Xiao Ning. Or Young Master," Yoriichi corrected. "I am not a gang leader."
"Yes, Boss Xiao Ning!" they chorused anyway.
Yoriichi rubbed his temples. "Fine. Whatever."
He waved his hand towards the forest path.
"You all can go now. Come back tomorrow at this same time. Don't be late. If you are late, I charge a late fee."
"Yes, Boss!"
"Ok, go now," Yoriichi dismissed them.
The group turned and began to limp away, but their spirits were inexplicably high.
"Did you see that kick? I want to learn that!" one whispered loudly.
"I'm going to be invincible," Jia Lie Ao muttered, grinning through his swollen lip. "Just wait until I master his speed."
"We need to bring snacks for the Boss tomorrow," another suggested.
They shouted farewells with energy that shouldn't belong to people who just got mugged.
"Goodbye, Boss! Take care!"
Yoriichi stood alone by the stream, watching them disappear into the foliage. He shook his head at these antics.
"Strange world," he murmured. "Strange children."
He patted the heavy pouch at his side.
"But still... the day is worth it."
He had secured the funding. He had neutralized a threat (by accidentally recruiting them). And he had tested his body's limits.
"I have stolen... ahem, earned... enough gold," Yoriichi corrected himself, turning away from the stream.
His stomach gave a loud rumble, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since yesterday's dinner.
"Breakfast," he decided. "And then... the Clan Archives."
With a lighter step and a heavier pocket, Yoriichi began the walk back to his infirmary, his mind already shifting from the brawl to the blueprint of the blade that would soon be born in fire.