C13 Assassination

For several days, Chen Xiaozhi secluded himself at home, immersed in his cultivation practice. He consumed large tonifying pills and wind meridian powder regularly, which fortified his physique to the pinnacle of the Copper Skin and Iron Bones Realm. Yet, advancing further to the elusive seven-apertured smoke stage proved exceedingly challenging due to the scarce number of apertures in his body, presenting a formidable bottleneck.

In parallel, he delved into mastering the aerification technique and the Seven Steps to the Stars, honing his Revolving White Waves Fist Technique to a higher degree of proficiency. Nevertheless, achieving the Large Success Stage would require more patience.

Meanwhile, Zhao Qi's mother had been brought to safety. Despite Zhao Qi's grave injuries, Chen Xiaozhi had ingeniously administered a diluted solution of the large tonifying pill, enabling Zhao Qi to regain mobility. Intent on empowering Zhao Qi, Chen Xiaozhi resolved to impart his fist technique, equipping him with the means for self-defense.

Within the confines of his home, Chen Xiaozhi pored over a martial arts tome, seeking wisdom. As his brow furrowed in concentration, he eventually set the volume aside.

The dilemma of his limited apertures weighed on him. Surely, he couldn't perpetually depend on potent medicinal aids to advance his cultivation. Lost in contemplation, an epiphany struck. He retrieved the enigmatic cloth from his chest—a relic from the wilds, given by a barbarian on a stormy night. The cloth, adorned with the likeness of an old monk practicing his art and devoid of any text, remained a mystery. The possibility of the formidable fairy or the barbarian returning to claim it had troubled him, yet tranquility had prevailed in the days since.

"Eh?" Chen Xiaozhi murmured, scrutinizing the portrait once more. A spark of realization ignited within him—his Earthly origins blessed him with unconventional insights, distinct from this world's inhabitants. He held firm to the conviction that no problem was insurmountable; it was merely a matter of discovering the right approach. This resolve had fueled his determination to overcome the ailment that rendered his body 'useless.' He had nearly resigned himself to despair, but now, as he examined the black dots marking the meridians on the cloth's portrait, his heart leaped with possibility.

"These appear to be acupoints—four hundred and nine in total, if I'm not mistaken." After a meticulous review, confirming the count and placement of the dots, Chen Xiaozhi's hypothesis solidified.

"Could it be?" A surge of exhilaration raced through his thoughts.

The acupoints of this world's denizens followed a distinct pattern, unknown to them. Unaware of the acupoints' existence and significance, they overlooked a vital aspect of bodily strength. If one could activate these acupoints, they could potentially enhance their physique—much like how acupuncture in his past life addressed various ailments. Each acupoint had the potential to influence different physical and mental states.

In essence, he held a map of acupoints in his hands.

The cloth's connection to beings as formidable as the barbarian and the mysterious fairy suggested its extraordinary nature. Could acupoints serve as a substitute for meridians? This revelation was irrepressible, flooding Chen Xiaozhi's mind with possibilities. Should acupoints prove an adequate replacement, he would possess four hundred and nine acupoints, in addition to his original thirty-six. Tsk tsk, what a prospect.

As the idea struck him, Chen Xiaozhi wasted no time. He immediately assumed a cross-legged position at the head of his bed and began to channel the blood energy within his body towards the Hegu point in the webbing between his right thumb and index finger. Sure enough, as soon as the blood energy surged to the Hegu point, it came to an abrupt halt, as though it had hit an impasse.

"Break through!" Chen Xiaozhi gritted his teeth, his heart pounding fiercely, as he summoned an even more formidable wave of blood energy. It coursed through him, converging in his arm and pooling on the back of his hand. His veins bulged like writhing earthworms until, with a splay of his fingers, a burst of hot sweat exploded from his palm.

The Hegu point was open!

In the instant the point was cleared, Chen Xiaozhi felt a pulse at his temple and a newfound strength in his back muscles, his spirit invigorated. Moreover, his teeth had become noticeably stronger; their tips now serrated, resembling the fearsome teeth of a shark. He leapt from the bed and peered into the mirror, his eyes sparkling with vitality, his teeth gleaming with the cold brilliance of a finely honed blade.

"This..." Even he couldn't help but gasp at the transformation.

Could a single acupuncture point have truly caused such a mutation in his teeth?

"Hahahaha…" Chen Xiaozhi's laughter began as a low chuckle and grew into a thunderous roar. Had he indeed unlocked over four hundred vital points? Who else, past or present, could claim such a feat?

"Brother, are you okay?" The chilling laughter sent shivers down Xiaocao's and Zhao Qi's spines in the courtyard. Xiaocao cautiously opened the door to find her brother, who appeared to have lost his senses, and asked with concern.

"I'm more than fine!"

With a gust-like swiftness, Chen Xiaozhi scooped up Xiaocao and planted a robust kiss on her cheek.

"Ouch!"

Xiaocao squealed, her face turning beet red as she scampered away.

Her brother really had no shame.

...

"Rest assured, Your Highness, I've got this," assured a man in a small alley a few hundred meters from Chen Xiaozhi's dwelling, confidently thumping his chest in front of Dung Qing'an.

Dung Qing'an, clad in white, concealed his visage beneath a bamboo hat.

The man before him was a former squad leader under his father's command. Though he had retired to a peaceful life years ago, his prowess was undiminished, having already mastered the four apertures. His combat experience even surpassed Dung Qing'an's. These sleepless nights had been filled with dread at the thought of Chen Xiaozhi's transformation. He couldn't afford to let Chen Xiaozhi rise to power, not with the bad blood between them.

It was a relief that many of his father's old comrades were in Crowfield, which is why his father felt comfortable sending him to the Hidden Dragon Institute.

"Make it quick. You have fifteen minutes to take care of him and then leave. Don't worry, I'll speak to my father; you'll be well-compensated," Dung Qing'an instructed coolly.

"I won't need fifteen minutes. Ten breaths will suffice," the man replied with a serene smile.

He bowed slightly, then pulled out a black cloth to mask his face. In a burst of speed akin to a cheetah, he sprang into action, heading straight for the distant compound.

Dung Qing'an's lips curled into a satisfied smile, a thrill of anticipation coursing through him.

Chen Xiaozhi, how will you escape this time?

"Who's there?"

Chen Xiaozhi had just stepped out of his room, his spirits still buoyant with joy, when a dark figure vaulted over the wall, exuding a deadly aura and lunging at him with a short blade.

Who could it be?

Was it the same person who had tried to kill him before?

A jolt of panic shot through Chen Xiaozhi, but he had no time for fear—he couldn't afford to die again. With a fierce roar, he swung his fist, sending a powerful gust of wind hurtling toward the weapon.

"Amateur!" Despite being taken aback by Chen Xiaozhi's formidable physical strength, the masked assailant quickly identified Chen Xiaozhi's inexperience in combat and found an opening. With a cold laugh and a swift sidestep, the assailant adjusted the blade's angle, dodging the punch and aiming directly for Chen Xiaozhi's neck.

Yet, what should have been a successful strike was thwarted by Chen Xiaozhi using an uncanny technique.

The masked man's pupils constricted in shock as Chen Xiaozhi's teeth, sharp as spikes, clamped onto the blade. A tug proved futile; it wouldn't budge. Then, with a forceful clamp of his jaws, Chen Xiaozhi shattered the blade. His expression icy, he delivered a thunderous punch to the assailant's face.

The sheer power of the blow sent the attacker soaring through the air, tumbling out of the courtyard like a discarded sack.

"It's out..." Outside, Dong Qing'an's face lit up with an uncontrollable grin as he saw a shadow leap into the sky, thinking the deed was done. But his steps halted abruptly when he saw the gruesome sight—his father's former comrade's head had burst open like a smashed watermelon, with brain matter and blood spraying midair.

Then, he watched a familiar figure emerge from the courtyard, stepping out with a steady gait.

Who else but Chen Xiaozhi?

"Damn it, that scared the hell out of me! You think you can mess with me and live? I mistook you for some master, but you're nothing but a novice. To hell with you!" With a sudden outburst, Chen Xiaozhi, who had been calm moments before, approached the fallen body and unleashed a tirade of curses, kicking the corpse in a fit of rage.

Dong Qing'an's throat clenched, his figure staggering back before he spun on his heels and fled.

Chen Xiaozhi's outburst, akin to a fishwife's tantrum, was an understandable reaction to the shock he had endured. He had genuinely believed his attacker was the same formidable foe who had once killed him. With his current abilities, he stood no chance in a fair fight and had been forced into a desperate struggle.

But to his surprise, his opponent was far weaker than anticipated.

"Someone's trying to set me up?" Chen Xiaozhi scanned his surroundings, finding no trace of any other assailants.

"Master Chen." Zhao Qi arrived on the scene, visibly shaken.

"Find a place to bury the body."

Chen Xiaozhi's command was delivered with a calm detachment as he resumed his composed demeanor.

"A warrior of the Seven Apertures Realm." From their brief encounter, Chen Xiaozhi had discerned that the man's physical strength was significantly inferior to his own, yet his reflexes were remarkably quick—surely a sign of opened acupoints. The list of his adversaries was short. Aside from the assassin who had previously succeeded in killing him, only a few names remained.

Martial artists of this caliber are a dime a dozen in Crowfield, and they typically don't have significant backgrounds.

"I need to start gathering some reliable people around me. It's a good thing I was here today, or Xiaocao would have been in real trouble," Chen Xiaozhi mused to himself.

"It can't be Chen Xiaozhi. He's not that powerful. There has to be someone else behind this." Dung Qing'an hurried away from the incident, his mind a blank slate, his voice quivering. The more he dwelled on it, the more convinced he became of his theory. Chen Xiaozhi, after all, is of royal blood. It's entirely possible that Chen Zhuo arranged for someone to covertly protect his nephew upon his departure.

Yes, that had to be it.

As Dung Qing'an's mind settled, his expression darkened with a deep sense of frustration.