Chapter 151: Ambushed

Chapter 151: Ambush

The broken flying sword fragment, though no longer capable of emitting radiation to corrupt flesh and blood, had become deeply embedded in Li Jun’s body, its roots growing more entrenched with each passing moment.

Li Jun had a vague premonition that even if he managed to elevate his seventh-grade Refining Body Technique to the Great Completion Realm, it would be difficult to eradicate this shard on his own.

As for external methods like surgical extraction, Li Jun dared not attempt them lightly.

After his encounter with Yu Kou and his son, Li Jun had come to understand the nature of these flying swords.

Though Chengdu and Chongqing were far apart, if Yu Canhai, under the blessing of Qingcheng Cave Heaven, could truly link to this fragment, he might strike Li Jun in secret—how dangerous that would be.

“Yes,” He Cangjia replied crisply, yet his face showed no hint of ease.

“You know, Brother Jun, the Agricultural Family reveres all things as fields, and the body is seen as the ‘innate field’ bestowed by Heaven and Earth. Thus, we have always studied the cultivation of flesh and spirit.”

“With my abilities, the only way to resolve this without hidden risks is through the Agricultural Family’s ‘pointing seeds’ method—to enhance the cells around the sword tip, enveloping and devouring it. But…”

He Cangjia’s voice cut off abruptly, yet the unspoken meaning was clear to Li Jun.

To employ the Agricultural Family’s ‘pointing seeds’ meant surrendering control of his own body—a prospect utterly unacceptable for one on the martial path.

Li Jun did not speak, and He Cangjia naturally did not offer such a favor.

“But it’s no matter if we don’t bring it out. That old fool Yu Canhai couldn’t possibly control it remotely from such a distance through flesh and blood. If he were that powerful, the Yu Clan wouldn’t merely be a minor shareholder in Qingcheng Group.”

He Cangjia laughed heartily, breaking the heavy atmosphere in the courtyard.

“Brother Jun, take this.”

Wine and beauty were the surest means to bridge the gap between men. After such attentive care over this period, He Cangjia no longer seemed so reserved in Li Jun’s presence.

He withdrew a palm-sized screen from his sleeve and handed it to Li Jun.

“Now, almost no faction operates such external Huangliang devices, so this is the best available on the market. Though its browsing efficiency is low, at least it works.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re brothers, no need for such formalities. Here’s this as well.”

He Cangjia passed over a black pai jiu card, two fingers thick, offering a sheepish smile. “Brother, I’m only a literary tiger-head; the highest authority I can grant is this martial card of mixed nine.”

“It’s just an identity. As long as it’s useful.”

Li Jun didn’t mind, toying with the card as he asked with a smile, “How does this thing work? Surely we don’t just flash it at people?”

Speaking of showing cards, Li Jun suddenly remembered the identity plate on his person—the Imperial Guard Captain of the Jin-Yi-Wei.

“That’s not so primitive. There’s a dynamic key on the side of the card—that’s the true mark of the Sichuan-Chongqing Gambling Association. Input this into the device to log into the Huangliang network within the gambling realm.”

Following He Cangjia’s guidance, Li Jun successfully accessed the Huangliang network of the Sichuan-Chongqing metropolis.

In an instant, a cascade of information surged across the screen like a waterfall. Had his dynamic vision not been sharp enough, he might not have discerned a single character.

Just as Li Jun prepared to delve deep into the digital currents, He Cangjia suddenly spoke, “Brother Jun, do you know someone named Gong Qinghong?”

Gong Qinghong.

Li Jun finally recalled the name. “Yes, I killed three of his subordinates in Chengdu. What about him?”

He Cangjia’s expression darkened. “I’ve received word—he’s dispatched many hands lately, searching everywhere for someone.”

Li Jun abruptly scratched his brow. “Who is he looking for?”

“The Moke Family’s Heavenly Ambition Society, Zhao Qingxia!”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

By a stream encircled by mountains, the clear clang of hammering rang from within a hut, unceasing and rhythmic.

Bare-chested, Zhao Qingxia stood before an anvil, sweat pouring down as he swung his hammer. Beside him, the furnace’s heat waves rolled forth; an ordinary person here might struggle even to breathe.

After a moment, Zhao Qingxia halted his pounding, hurling a crimson arm toward the corner.

“Damn it, you’re done without quenching in fire? Has your craftsmanship fallen so low?”

Ma Wangye leaned against the wall, kicking the half-finished product away with his remaining foot in disgust.

“Be content. This godforsaken place has nothing to offer. To recover this quickly under such conditions, it’s only because I’m blessed with extraordinary talent. Don’t ask for too much!”

Zhao Qingxia grabbed a bucket of water and strode over, using tongs to dunk the prosthetic hand into the liquid.

Sssss!

In a rising cloud of steam, the prosthetic shed its warm red exterior, revealing a rough, crude form.

“Hell no, I won’t wear this thing. With this on, what face do I have in the divine artifact circles? How am I supposed to impress women or forge a name in real combat?”

Ma Wangye, now with only two limbs left, could offer no resistance, watching helplessly as Zhao Qingxia fitted the ugly iron hand onto him.

Once finished, Zhao Qingxia sat beside Ma Wangye, speaking in a low voice: “Old Ma, how long must we hide in this mountain nook?”

“That depends on when you can fix me.”

Zhao Qingxia was stunned. “How long will that take?!”

Ma Wangye snorted. “If it weren’t for you giving away my carefully prepared ‘rabbit burrow,’ leaving us stuck here, I’d have restored my prowess long ago.”

Zhao Qingxia stiffened his neck. “That was brotherly loyalty—you understand nothing!”

“I understand nothing, you say I understand nothing?!” Ma Wangye’s voice turned mournful. “What sin have I committed to end up in your hands, ‘Ming Gui,’ and suffer this fate?”

“Enough, enough—this time it’s my fault.”

Seeing Ma Wangye about to launch into another wail, Zhao Qingxia quickly cut him off.

“It’s no big deal. I’ll help you hook up with that vice-chairman’s Lu Ban lathe, won’t I? You’ve been longing for that old woman for ages.”

“What old woman—you blind or something?”

Ma Wangye erupted in fury. “Don’t you see her magnanimous bearing?!”

“I don’t know how a lathe could be magnanimous.”

Zhao Qingxia muttered under his breath, then abruptly shifted tone. “It’s been half a month already. I wonder how Brother Jun is doing.”

“You still have the heart to worry about him?”

Ma Wangye sneered coldly. “With Li Jun’s stubborn life, even if we two die, he won’t.”

Zhao Qingxia asked curiously, “Old Ma, if you dislike him so much, why did you save him that day?”

“I wasn’t saving him—I was worried about Li Hua’s little girl.”

In the crude shed, both fell silent.

After a long while, Zhao Qingxia’s face dimmed as he spoke, “Old Ma, do you think there’s still hope for Xiao Hua?”

“As long as the core isn’t shattered, there’s hope. But we can’t delay too long, or her consciousness will dissipate. Then…”

The young man fell silent, his red eyes dimming.

"Then make the most of the time, fix you up quickly, and get out of this damn place sooner."

Zhao Qingxia managed a strained smile, standing up with both hands propped on his knees.

At that very moment, a faint noise suddenly came from outside the door.

The young man looked down to see an object the size of a fist rolling in, jumping.

"Firecracker?!"

The cry had barely left his lips when a dark figure shot out from the corner, sending the firecracker flying.

Boom!

In the thunderous explosion, Zhao Qingxia turned in shock to see Ma Wangye swinging his shiny bald shoulders, hopping on one foot and rushing toward him, mounting him.

"What are you still gaping at? Hurry up and run!"