Chapter 8 (2/2)

After clobbering Elder Feng to death, Xu Yi took the pouch at his waist. Inside, there were a dozen reddish-gold coins and nothing else.

Xu Yi took a coin in his hand and blew it. Then, he flipped his hand around and placed the coin by his ear. Immediately, a soft and lovely hum could be heard.

The steely expression that Xu Yi had on his face for so long finally showed signs of softening.

Pure gold coins. Xu Yi had long heard of their existence.

From what he knew, two kinds of currencies existed in the world. The first kind was the money used by ordinary folk throughout their everyday lives — the copper or silver coins he could earn while he was teaching.

The other kind was the kind that Martial Way practitioners used between themselves. It was the currency used by the ruling class. And what they used was this kind of pure gold coin, or ingots, or tokens made of pure gold.

Before, when Xu Yi was teaching for a living, he could only earn coppers or silvers that ordinary folk used.

Because he could not earn gold coins, Xu Yi could not obtain any of the precious herbs that could only be purchased with gold coins. The best he could do was to buy the lowest grade Wulong Grass that any ordinary mountain villager could pick in order to supplement his strength.

Today, with these dozen gold coins in his hand, the happiness that they brought him could not be described in words.

After toying with them for a while, Xu Yi finally placed them in the cloth pouch and tied it to his waist with a dead knot. He then picked up the narrow sword that had dropped by the side. With both hands, he used all his might to bend it. The sword curved in a perfect circular arc but did not break.

This was a quality sword. Xu Yi strapped it to his waist as well. He then turned and stepped out of the woods, speeding towards the site of the previous battle. As he approached, he saw that Young Master Zhou was already long gone. Looking around, he noticed that northwest of him, a lone rider was heading north, and the horse was galloping quickly.

Seeing Young Master Zhou’s fleeing figure, Xu Yi’s eyes turned bloodshot again. His eyes swept around the mountain forests. A dozen meters to the west, there was indeed movement. He dove into the forest, and in a flash, came back out with a crimson stallion.

Before this, Young Master Zhou had brought over a dozen horses. In the battle, only a few were hurt. Young Master Zhou rode off with one, and the others were nowhere in sight. Xu Yi correctly guessed that he had released them into the woods. After a quick search, he had indeed found one.

Xu Yi delayed no further. He flipped onto the horse, grabbed its reigns, and steered the horse around, galloping out of the valley.

As he gave chase, Xu Yi drew the narrow sword with his right hand and stabbed it into his horse’s neck at an area roughly three inches to the right and bottom of the carotid artery. No blood flowed out, but the horse behaved as though it were on steroids, its speed greatly increasing.

After reaching the peak of Body Forging, Xu Yi’s understanding of the human body’s flow of blood and qi, bones, tendons, and organs had reached an extremely high level.

The stallion was not a human, but in the process of galloping, the rush of blood and the movements of the bones were not something that was difficult for Xu Yi to understand. This stab of Xu Yi’s served to activate the stallion’s potential.

Although it was the first time he had done it, he was confident that he would succeed. And with that one stab, the results were amazing.

The wind howled and the sun beat down heavily on Young Master Zhou as he clasped tightly to the horse’s back with his legs. The leather whip beat down frantically without pause, causing the white horse underneath him to slowly turn blood red.

He was angry, crazed, and filled with hatred!

He was the great Young Master Zhou, noble-born and greatly respected. What was Xu Yi in comparison? Just a foolish ant. He was a little clown of the Xu family, left alive so that he could bring shame to the Xu family.

But little did he expect that this little ant of a rascal would actually dare to bare its claws at him and even rip off one of his wings. He swore that if he did not get his revenge, he would not call himself a man.