Raising Orphans, Not Assassins

The sky began to break into dawn. A few scattered faint stars adorned the pale blue sky. A snow-white pigeon flew across the sky and landed on a rooftop.

"Coo..."

The pigeon landed on the window sill, its two claws gripping the wooden frame as it made a sound.

Hearing the noise, a pair of fair, jade-like hands gently caught the pigeon, removing a small bamboo tube tied to its leg.

The owner of these hands was a young girl, no more than a teenager.

Dressed as a maid, she was beautiful, with skin as smooth as jade and delicate features.

She carefully unwrapped the bamboo tube, pulling out a folded letter.

The young girl did not read it; instead, she took the letter and descended the stairs.

Downstairs, there was a spacious courtyard, filled with various exotic plants.

In the center of the courtyard stood a scholarly middle-aged man, wearing yellow satin, holding a pair of pruning scissors and carefully trimming the plants.

The young girl approached and respectfully handed him the letter.

The middle-aged man set the scissors down, opened the letter, and began to read.

After a moment, he smiled.

The young girl was startled because, in her memory, her master rarely smiled.

Whenever he did, it usually meant something good or interesting had happened.

The last time he smiled was when the Wan Jin Hall “received” a priceless jade statue of Guanyin worth two million taels.

“Xiao Chun, the person you hate most is dead.”

The scholarly middle-aged man laughed.

The young girl’s face lit up with surprise. She couldn’t help but ask, “Is it Monk Qingyuan? Did he die? How did he die? Was it the Shaolin abbot who took action?”

Xiao Chun chirped like a sparrow, asking one question after another.

Monk Qingyuan was a late-stage First Grade expert, powerful beyond measure. Even a peak First Grade expert might struggle to defeat him.

The middle-aged man smiled, not answering Xiao Chun’s questions.

He crumpled the letter into a ball and casually tossed it to the ground.

“Interesting… Truly interesting… To be able to burst Monk Qingyuan apart using internal energy, this person must have already entered the Innate realm. Internal energy cultivation is at its peak!”

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, his smile gradually fading, replaced by a look of deep apprehension in his eyes.

“Xiao Chun, pass it on. If anyone from Wan Jin Hall encounters a person wearing a silver mask, with a leaf pattern along the edges, they must not be impolite. Whoever can bring that person to the hall, I will make them the Vice Hall Master.”

The middle-aged man said firmly.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Chun’s eyes filled with shock.

Vice Hall Master!

The Vice Hall Master here was no mere assistant to one of the twelve halls.

For the master to personally speak—this could only mean one thing.

That person would be the Vice Hall Master of Wan Jin Hall!

Xiao Chun was stunned by the thought.

Just by bringing the person wearing a silver mask with leaf patterns to the hall, one could become the Vice Hall Master?

Who exactly was that person?

…

Sichuan - Tang Sect

“Master, Elder Tang Hai has replied.”

A disciple of the Tang Sect knelt respectfully on the floor.

In front of him sat a lean middle-aged man, wearing black satin embroidered with red patterns. His face was stern and authoritative, radiating the aura of someone who had been in power for a long time.

“Read it.”

The middle-aged man spoke indifferently.

“Understood!”

Soon, the disciple read the letter sent by the carrier pigeon.

The Tang Sect leader furrowed his brow. After a long moment, he spoke.

“Cancel the bounty on Qin Yi, Huang San, Zhou Ba, and the others. Do not engage with them if you encounter them in the future. Also, if anyone comes across someone wearing a silver mask with leaf patterns along the edges, they are not to engage. Anyone who violates this will be expelled from the Tang Sect and placed on the kill list!”

…

The solemn bell tolled through Shaolin Temple.

Monks who had just finished the morning session made their way to the dining hall for breakfast.

A middle-aged monk, with a dignified air, moved swiftly against the flow of monks, as if something urgent was at hand.

Other monks who encountered him paused to bow respectfully, their eyes filled with reverence.

This monk was Master Xuanxi, the head of the Discipline Hall.

Not long after, Xuanxi passed through a corridor and arrived at the door of a quiet room.

The room was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.

Inside, an elderly monk with snowy white eyebrows, drooping down to his chest, sat on a meditation cushion. His legs were crossed, and he held a string of prayer beads, eyes tightly shut, completely still—almost as if in a state of deep meditation or entering Nirvana.

From outside the quiet room came a voice.

“Abbot, Qing Yuan has passed away.”

The voice echoed into the room.

The elderly monk’s face showed no sign of joy or sorrow. He paused momentarily before resuming his rotation of the prayer beads.

“Amitabha…”

The Shaolin Abbot muttered a Buddhist chant, his voice rough, “Good news.”

Xuanxi stood outside the quiet room, his expression serious, his posture like a pine tree.

After the Abbot spoke, there was silence.

Hearing the stillness from within, Xuanxi hesitated, unsure whether to leave.

“Who did this?” The Shaolin Abbot’s voice came from the quiet room.

Xuanxi quickly responded, “A young man named Dong Hua.”

Upon hearing this, the Shaolin Abbot murmured in reply. “Good.”

After that, there was no further sound.

Xuanxi continued, “Master, the head of the Zhenyuan Escort Agency once trained in the secular courtyard here. He volunteered to escort the Demon-Slaying Vajra back to the temple.”

After a long pause, the Shaolin Abbot’s voice finally emerged. “Good.”

…

Jiangnan

In a vast martial arts training ground.

A middle-aged man wearing a purple satin robe stood in the center of the arena.

He was tall and sturdy, with a masculine face and a short beard on his chin.

Several young men dressed in gray stood before him, each holding an oval-shaped ball.

“Throw!”

One of the men suddenly shouted.

The gray-dressed youths threw the balls into the air, and then swiftly retreated.

The next moment.

“Boom!”

A deafening explosion rang out.

The ground shook, soil flew, and black smoke mixed with flashes of fire.

A two-meter-wide crater appeared on the ground, exhaling a sharp, sulfuric smell.

“We did it!”

“Boss! We did it!”

Upon seeing the power of the ball, everyone present cheered.

Lei Jingtian, the leader of the Thunderclap Hall, wore a satisfied smile.

“Haha! Once this is perfected, my Lei family will be safe for a hundred years!”

Beside him, an elderly clan elder, supported by a cane, was so excited that tears welled up in his eyes.

The Lei family disciples in the arena danced with joy, celebrating their success.

Lei Jingtian approached the newly created crater, bending down to inspect it carefully.

This was the Lei family’s newly developed explosive bomb.

Looking at the crater, Lei Jingtian felt his blood rush in excitement.

It’s done! It’s really done!

His fists clenched tightly, and his mood soared.

Once that person ascends the throne, the Lei family will rise!

In recent years, the Dawu Dynasty had been facing increasing pressure from border conflicts.

Once this weapon is perfected and distributed to the military, it will surely wipe out those northern barbarians without leaving a single survivor.

At that time, the Lei family's status will rise accordingly!

The Lei family members were ecstatic.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the distant sky, letting out a sharp cry.

“Caw!”

“Caw!”

It was a reddish-brown eagle.

Soaring through the air, its sharp eyes scanned the martial arts arena, locking onto a single person.

The eagle slowly folded its wings and landed on Lei Jingtian's shoulder.

Lei Jingtian lovingly stroked its feathers, noticing the letter tied to its claws.

He removed the letter and his gaze fell upon the paper.

After reading the first two lines, a cold smirk appeared on his face.

“The Tang Sect is nothing but this, their perspective still stuck in the martial world.”

“The fall of the Fengyu Tower—so what…”

“Short-sighted.”

He commented disdainfully and continued reading.

As he read further, Lei Jingtian’s heart skipped a beat, and his face revealed shock.

“Someone actually used internal energy to forcefully explode Monk Qingyuan?!”

“When did such a person emerge in the martial world?”

His face changed slightly, and then he seemed to remember something.

He sneered.

“Qing Xuzi really knows how to flatter himself.”

“Claiming to be on par with a grandmaster…”

“Does he even deserve that?”

Yuyu: @Ishan Agarwal, @Gary Manus, @Poppy Locks, thanks for the subscription.