Chapter 48: That Boy Is Too Cunning

After a hurried lunch, Chu Tianfeng went straight to the station, planning to catch a bus directly to Tianhai. In just over ten days, the new school term would begin. Although there were barely any classes in this final year, Chu Tianfeng still wished to return to Tianhai and spend his days there.

Both Shudian and Qianiao Lake were filled with martial artists from Huaxia, and Chu Tianfeng had no desire to run into them again, lest he invite unnecessary trouble.

Yet, as he entered the ticket hall of Wushi Station, he realized two martial artists were following him closely. He knew these two tails were likely tracking Hua Wu. Since Hua Wu had spoken to him in the lingerie shop, they must have mistakenly believed the woman Chu Tianfeng was disguised as was an acquaintance of hers and had come to investigate.

Chu Tianfeng felt helpless and had to improvise, altering his plan to head for Hangshi first. Once there, he’d find a way to shake them off.

Perhaps because Chu Tianfeng was dressed as a woman, the two stalkers paid him little heed, shadowing him almost as closely as the disciples of the Huangshan and Hengshan Sects had. Chu Tianfeng put on an act of fear, deliberately squeezing into crowded places after buying his ticket, much to the amusement of his pursuers.

After seeing his destination, the two did not buy tickets themselves. Instead, one made a phone call, and then both left the ticket hall. Still, they did not go far. They lingered in the station square, watching as Chu Tianfeng’s coach pulled out. They even tailed him by car for a while, only turning back towards the city once the coach merged onto the highway.

Freed from his shadows, Chu Tianfeng felt a wave of relief. Over the next hour, he even managed to get some sleep.

Arriving in Hangshi, Chu Tianfeng did not linger. He immediately bought a ticket for the next trip from Hangshi to Tianhai. The coach would depart at dusk, and the journey would take about three hours, meaning he would not reach Tianhai until around ten o’clock.

As soon as he boarded, Chu Tianfeng habitually used his spiritual sense to probe the passengers. When his attention fell on three men seated mid-coach, his brow furrowed.

All three were martial artists. The leader was about fifty, with a long face and slender build—a master at the pinnacle of Huajin. The other two were middle-aged: one had a square face and large ears, his expression clouded with worry, and was at the mid-stage of Huajin; the other, with a horse-like face and portly build, was also at the mid-stage of Huajin.

Chu Tianfeng grew vigilant, locking his spiritual sense on the three, not daring to relax.

Shortly after the coach hit the highway, the sun had set completely. Most passengers closed their eyes to rest, but Chu Tianfeng remained cautious, keeping a close watch on the martial artists.

“Elder Zhu, have you heard any news?” The square-faced man was the first to break the silence, sending a whispered message to the elder.

Though Chu Tianfeng’s cultivation was not high, he possessed the cheat of spiritual sense and could eavesdrop on their silent exchanges with perfect clarity.

“Hall Master Liu, I was merely ordered to escort you back to the main hall. I know nothing more,” Elder Zhu replied with a slight smile, also using silent transmission.

“Elder Zhu, please, help me. I promise I’ll repay you in the future,” Hall Master Liu implored sincerely.

Elder Zhu sighed. “Liu, I must say, your performance has been truly lacking. No wonder the president is furious.”

“Please, Elder Zhu, let the president know, it’s not for lack of effort on our part,” Liu protested. “Blame that Chu Tianfeng for being so cunning.”

Chu Tianfeng’s eyes grew cold.

“You had over thirty people from the Hangshi Hall, all to deal with a mere Anjin-level Chu Tianfeng. Not only did you fail to find the treasure, but you also managed to antagonize the Mojin Sect, Tianmu Sect, Huangshan Sect, and Hengshan Sect, bringing four major enemies down on the Salt Guild. If you were the president, what would you do?” Anger flickered across Elder Zhu’s face.

At last, Chu Tianfeng understood who they were. They called themselves the Salt Guild. This Liu must be Liu Zuo, the Hall Master of Hangshi, and the elder was likely Elder Zhu from the Salt Guild’s Discipline Hall, as mentioned by Li De Biao of Huaian. The horse-faced man must also be from the Discipline Hall.

“Elder Zhu, you’re mistaken. Chu Tianfeng is not just at the Anjin level—Hall Master Lu of the Mojin Sect fought him and said his cultivation was at the early Huajin level, and his mastery of hidden weapons is incredible. Even Hall Master Lu fell victim to him,” Liu explained.

“Even so, what of it? You have two experts at the Huajin stage in your Hangshi Hall,” Elder Zhu snorted, clearly dissatisfied. “No matter how formidable his hidden weapons, are they more powerful than your guns?”

“Elder Zhu, I’m frustrated too,” Liu said, his face full of awkwardness. “I clearly shot him in the back. We even saw blood in the lake. I have no idea how he survived.”

Chu Tianfeng’s expression darkened. So it was the Salt Guild who had tried to assassinate him.

Now that he knew the identity of his would-be killers, Chu Tianfeng had no reason to let them go. If it hadn’t been for a chance encounter with Xiao Yunmeng and Shi Xiaomei that day, he would have perished.

“How can that be?” Elder Zhu was skeptical. “Did you search the lake?”

“With the Huangshan and Hengshan disciples nearby, we didn’t dare linger. We only made a cursory check,” Liu replied.

“Then you were simply unlucky.”

“Yes, our failure was down to bad luck, not lack of effort. Please, Elder Zhu, convey this to the president.”

“Don’t worry. The president appreciates your past service. He won’t punish you harshly—just a month’s confinement.”

“That’s a relief. Thank you, Elder Zhu,” Liu said, visibly relaxing.

Elder Zhu merely shook his head in response.

After this, the two exchanged no more words until the coach pulled into Tianhai South Gate Station.

The station was large and bustling. Chu Tianfeng walked out nearly shoulder to shoulder with Elder Zhu and his companions, but drew no notice.

Elder Zhu made a call in the plaza, whispered some words to Liu, and together they hailed a taxi.

Chu Tianfeng followed at a distance, boarding another cab.

The two cars drove on, one after the other, for nearly half an hour before stopping in front of a modern building. Elder Zhu and his companions hurriedly got out and entered.

Chu Tianfeng stood nearby, gazing thoughtfully up at the words “Salt Merchants Tower” emblazoned on the building’s facade.

There was no doubt—this was the Salt Guild’s headquarters.

Chu Tianfeng had no idea how powerful the Salt Guild was, but Elder Zhu offered a clue. As merely an elder of the Discipline Hall, his cultivation had already reached the peak of Huajin. The president, then, must be beyond even that—at least at the early Xiantian stage.

Chu Tianfeng himself was only at the fourth level of Qi Refinement. Though his true essence was considerable, it was nowhere near comparable to Xiantian-level power.

He had spells, but their power was limited. If the enemy was prepared, fireballs, fire arrows, and ice lances would accomplish little. Unless he had a flying sword, he could not hope to confront a Xiantian master head-on. Unfortunately, he possessed only a single piece of mithril, and who knew when he’d be able to forge a flying sword.

Thus, Chu Tianfeng did not plan to attack openly as he had in the past.

Half an hour later, after dinner and switching back to his middle-aged disguise, Chu Tianfeng returned. It was past eleven, but the streets were still bustling, and the alleys around the Salt Merchants Tower were especially lively.

Every storefront shone brightly—selling cold drinks, noodles, cakes, and all manner of local Tianhai snacks. Even more sold clothing and accessories. Some shops had hired fashionable beauties, all dolled up, standing at the entrance and calling out to customers.

Chu Tianfeng wandered silently through the crowd, observing the familiar yet alien world around him. He was struck by the realization that, whether on Blue Moon Star or Earth, most people shared the same goal: survival.

And he, wherever he was, sought only to survive a little longer.

There was something else familiar too—he was always being hunted.

Perhaps, he was destined to wander forever, destined to remain alone.

The night wind swept through the restless alleys, carrying with it the pride unique to the people of Tianhai. It rejected Chu Tianfeng, as it did all outsiders. The closer he drew to the Salt Merchants Tower, the more keenly he felt this rejection.

Once more, Chu Tianfeng felt deeply that he did not belong here, did not belong to this world.

He would destroy this place, and claim a space of his own.

In a nearby alley, Chu Tianfeng wrapped his face in a black scarf. Like a shadow, he slipped toward the building, doing his best to avoid the patrolling security guards.

Yet he had underestimated the surveillance technology of the Salt Merchants Tower. As he rounded the lobby and approached the elevator hall, more than ten security guards charged toward him.

The leader, a man of about forty with a stern, square face, saw Chu Tianfeng’s attire and didn’t bother to ask questions. With a sharp wave of his hand, the other guards let out a low shout and rushed at Chu Tianfeng in a wedge formation.

Most of these guards were at the Mingjin or Anjin stage—nothing to worry about. What concerned Chu Tianfeng was the head security guard, whose cultivation was shockingly at the late Huajin stage.

He had never before encountered a security guard at such a level.

Without hesitation, Chu Tianfeng unleashed a volley of ice lances at the group.

The ice lances gleamed under the lights. The head guard assumed Chu Tianfeng was firing shards of glass. He leapt back, thrusting out both palms to launch two bursts of force that shielded him.

Chu Tianfeng knew the ice lances would not harm the head guard; he had never expected them to. His real targets were the younger, less experienced guards.

Caught off guard by the rain of ice, most panicked and were struck before they could react. In an instant, the hall rang with the sounds of bodies falling, screams, and cries of pain. Of the ten or more young guards, at least three or four died on the spot, while most of the rest were rendered incapable of fighting.

The head guard retreated to the wall, his face darkening as he looked on at the fallen men.

“Were you the one who took out our Hangshi and Wushi Halls?” His eyes, cold as a viper’s, locked on Chu Tianfeng.

“What if I was?” Chu Tianfeng advanced on him step by step.

“Neither the Huangshan nor Hengshan Sects possess such techniques. Tell me, who are you really?” The head guard, seasoned from decades of training, saw at once that Chu Tianfeng’s hidden weapon skills did not come from either sect.

“My identity is irrelevant. What matters is that your Salt Guild headquarters may vanish tomorrow,” Chu Tianfeng said with a faint smile, while his hands quickly formed seals.

The head guard burst out laughing. “Ha! The Salt Guild has stood for centuries. Do you think it can be wiped out at your whim?”

Chu Tianfeng disdained further words. With a sudden movement, his right fist shot straight for the guard’s face.

The head guard was stunned by his opponent’s eerie speed—closing a distance of four or five meters in an instant.

In that moment, the guard bitterly regretted having underestimated his opponent, despite all his efforts to avoid doing so.

He hurriedly raised his double truncheons to block Chu Tianfeng’s strike.