Chapter 9: Martial Banquet

Martial cuisine. This term had been mentioned more than once by Lu Qingshan ever since Lu Yan broke through his limits. Lu Qingshan often lamented that with Lu Yan’s talent for martial arts, if he had the aid of martial cuisine, his cultivation speed would be even more astonishing.

Martial cuisine is crafted primarily from exotic beast meat, combined with various spiritual herbs and rare seasonings, prepared by a “martial chef.” Not only is it exquisite in flavor and easy to digest, but it also contains rich and pure energy, making it an indispensable supplement for martial cultivators. Its effects are worlds apart from ordinary beast meat.

However, exotic beast meat is extremely precious and beyond the reach of common folk. Even Lu Qingshan had only tasted it a handful of times. It’s said that the direct descendants and gifted disciples of the powerful clans eat martial cuisine at every meal. With martial cuisine, the progress in Iron Thread Fist would surely soar. But most martial cuisine is controlled by the clans, and with his current strength and wealth, Lu Yan found it nearly impossible to obtain. For now, he could only diligently rely on ordinary beast meat for cultivation.

Thus, another month passed, and the progress of Iron Thread Fist crawled at less than two percent per day, finally reaching the realm of Mastery. The greatest advantage of the Dao Tome was its lack of bottlenecks: as long as progress reached one hundred percent at each stage, breakthroughs came naturally. Others, no matter their talent, would still be stuck for a while between realms.

By now, Lu Yan was fifteen, and had been in this world for over seven months. As he feared, the inevitable occurred: upon reaching Mastery in Iron Thread Fist, progress ceased entirely. No matter how much energy he absorbed, even as his Iron Thread Fist avatar trained tirelessly, the progress remained fixed at Mastery (1%). As expected, ordinary beast meat was now useless; to advance further, he would need martial cuisine.

Lu Yan switched to having his archery avatar absorb energy for training. Yet after some time, when the archery avatar reached Mastery, progress halted as well. Unlike Iron Thread Fist, archery’s stagnation wasn’t due to the ineffectiveness of regular meat, but because the art itself had reached its limit. Ordinary archery was simply not martial arts; it did not involve vital energy, nor did it have the stage of merging man and martial prowess.

The most frustrating part was that even though both avatars had stopped, the Dao Tome continued to absorb half the energy from his food. Lu Yan was quite speechless.

Still, after Iron Thread Fist broke through to Mastery, he opened 288 side meridians, greatly increasing his efficiency in absorbing and converting energy, and accelerating his accumulation of vital energy.

Three months after reaching Mastery in Iron Thread Fist, Lu Yan once again felt his vital energy overflowing and sensed the second sealed gate. Under the guidance of his Mastery-level Iron Thread Fist, he shattered the gate without suspense, becoming a twice limit-breaking martial cultivator, equaling Lu Qingshan’s peak.

This time, Lu Yan deliberately kept it secret from Lu Qingshan, even spending the seven days of rapid post-breakthrough growth alone in the mountains, grilling meat and cultivating. The progress was so astonishing that the fewer who knew, the better.

During this period, he also encountered a fierce tiger. After a fierce battle, he successfully hunted it, obtaining a complete tiger skin.

After his second breakthrough, his strength surged, and Lu Yan’s confidence grew. Occasionally, he would bring wolf, ox, or fox skins to sell in Changfeng City, exchanging them for silver. Gradually, he accumulated a modest amount of money.

He then acquired an iron bow and arrows for himself. Even the most skilled archer is hampered without proper equipment, and Lu Yan’s Mastery-level archery required a good bow to fully display its power.

As for the tiger skin, he hadn’t sold it yet. He’d learned that a complete tiger skin was worth at least a hundred taels of silver—equivalent to ten thousand yuan on Earth. Such value was bound to attract the covetous eyes of other limit-breakers, so he planned to prepare carefully before selling it.

...

Late at night, clouds gathered and darkness enveloped the land; the small village was completely shrouded in blackness.

Suddenly, Lu Yan awoke from slumber, startled by a rustling sound outside. Someone was sneaking in.

Just as he was about to rise, he heard the door to the adjacent room open.

“Not good.”

Lu Yan’s expression changed. Judging by the breathing, it was Wang Cui.

The sound outside was faint; Wang Cui, being an ordinary person, could not have heard it in her sleep. Even Lu Qingshan wouldn’t notice it. There was only one explanation: Wang Cui had just gotten up to use the restroom.

If she encountered the intruder, she would be in danger.

Lu Yan sprang up and rushed out, just as Wang Cui’s startled cry rang out: “Ah, who are you? Thief!”

Whoosh!

Lu Yan burst from his room and saw a dark figure wielding a cleaver, swinging at Wang Cui’s neck.

If struck, Wang Cui would almost certainly die.

In that moment of crisis, Lu Yan grabbed a nearby pole and hurled it at the shadow, striking his arm.

With Lu Yan’s immense strength, the intruder’s arm broke instantly, and the cleaver clattered to the floor.

“Ah!”

The intruder screamed in agony, turning to flee.

Lu Yan caught up in a few strides and kicked the man’s calf. With a crack, the bone snapped, and he collapsed to the ground.

“Spare me, please spare me, Lu Yan—no, Brother Yan, have mercy!”

The shadow cried out in terror.

Lu Yan strode over and tore off his mask, his eyes cold. “It’s you.”

Lu Chuan—second only to Wu Chaofeng among the ruffians of Kaoshan Village. He was the first to discover the bodies of Wu Chaofeng and his gang.

He, too, had fled with Lu Yan’s group and was formerly a resident of Lu Family Village along with Lu Qingshan.

In Lu Yan’s memory, his parents had spoiled him excessively, raising him to be idle and lazy, living off their labor. Lacking the skills of Wu Chaofeng and others, he dared not steal food from others during their escape, instead ordering his parents to find food for him. Whenever food was found, he would take it all for himself, leaving nothing for his parents.

Eventually, his parents starved to death on the road, but he showed no remorse, telling others they had chosen their fate and it had nothing to do with him.

Even Wu Chaofeng and his gang disdained him, and Lu Chuan’s repeated attempts to join them were always rebuffed.

“Brother Yan, spare me. I was just starving and wanted to steal some food. Please let me live; I won’t dare again.”

Lu Chuan pleaded, sobbing and sniveling.

“Stealing food, but you came armed with a knife?”

Lu Yan’s face was icy as he picked up the cleaver. It was freshly sharpened and razor-sharp.

Clearly, he had prepared to kill if discovered.

He had never imagined Lu Yan’s strength, capable of breaking bones so easily.

“Mother, are you all right?”

Lu Qingshan had awakened, supporting Wang Cui.

Wang Cui’s face was pale, still shaken.

“I’m fine, thanks to Yan’s timely intervention,” she reassured Lu Qingshan.

“Yan, how will you deal with him?” Lu Qingshan asked.

Lu Yan pondered briefly. “Report to the Liu clan. Execute him publicly as a warning.”

He could have killed Lu Chuan directly, but he had another consideration.

Their circumstances were improving, and many villagers coveted what they had. If not Lu Chuan, someone else would try.

Killing him outright would not deter others.

Only a public execution could send a clear message.

But he was not a member of the Liu clan and lacked authority to execute someone publicly, so he had to report to them.

...

By dawn, the village entrance was crowded with villagers.

Lu Chuan was bound tightly, kneeling at the gate.

Lu Yan stood with arms folded, quietly waiting.

He was waiting for the Red Guards, having asked the village head to report Lu Chuan's crime as attempted murder and theft.

He couldn’t be sure the Red Guards would come—such matters might seem trivial to them.

If they didn’t, he would cripple Lu Chuan and leave him to his fate.

As the sun rose high, two figures in red arrived leisurely.

They were the same pair who had dealt with Wu Chaofeng’s murder: the older, stubbled man called Zhang Jun; the younger, Chen Ji.

“This godforsaken place—so much trouble for nothing,” Zhang Jun muttered impatiently.

He wouldn’t have bothered coming if he weren't in a good mood today.

Chen Ji maintained a gentle smile, saying nothing.

“Lu Yan, at your service, sirs.”

Lu Yan strode forward, bowed, and offered some broken silver he had prepared. “Thank you for your hard work, sirs. Please accept this token and enjoy a drink.”

Zhang Jun took it smoothly, weighing the two taels or so. His impatience faded, replaced by a smile. “So you’re the one who reported the crime?”

“Yes, sir,” Lu Yan replied.

Zhang Jun and Chen Ji sized him up curiously.

After breaking through a second time, Lu Yan had grown taller, now about 1.85 meters—standing out among the impoverished villagers.

“Sir, sirs, I’m innocent!” Lu Chuan wailed.

“Oh?” Zhang Jun and Chen Ji turned to him. When they saw Lu Chuan’s broken limbs, their expressions changed.

Zhang Jun examined the injuries and looked at Lu Yan. “Did you do this?”

Lu Yan realized he'd been found out.

Lu Chuan’s bones had been shattered in a single blow—something only a limit-breaker could do.

If Lu Yan was a limit-breaker, then the deaths of Wu Chaofeng and his gang months ago were easily explained.

Yet Lu Yan was unfazed.

He had anticipated being discovered when he reported the crime.

He didn’t believe Zhang Jun and Chen Ji would pursue him over a few dead ruffians.

He understood well that in this world, strength was everything.

“Yes, sir,” Lu Yan replied, bowing.

A subtle look flickered in Zhang Jun’s eyes. “You say he tried to rob and murder?”

“Yes!”

“Where’s the weapon?”

Lu Qingshan promptly handed over the cleaver Lu Chuan had carried.

“Sir, I’m innocent! They’re framing me!” Lu Chuan protested.

“Framing you? In that case, all of you come with us for interrogation. Whoever lies, I’ll make them wish they were dead,” Zhang Jun said coldly, his murderous intent sharp as a blade.

Lu Chuan’s face turned ashen.

Clang!

The blade flashed, slicing through the air. Lu Chuan’s head flew high, blood spraying over a meter.

“Dare to argue before the Red Guards? Courting death,” Zhang Jun said indifferently, sheathing his blade.

The villagers turned pale, trembling in fear.

Some who had considered robbing Lu Yan’s home now felt secretly fortunate.

Lu Yan knew his goal of making an example had been achieved; there would be no more theft attempts.

“All right, it’s settled. Go on, disperse. Remember to bury the body,” Zhang Jun waved, dismissing the villagers, then said to Lu Yan, “Brother, may I have a word?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lu Yan walked aside with Zhang Jun and Chen Ji.

“What’s your name, brother?” Zhang Jun asked.

“Lu Yan.”

“Lu Yan, are you a limit-breaker?” Zhang Jun pressed.

“Yes, sir. I’ve trained for three years and only broke the first gate a month ago,” Lu Yan answered.

Three years to break through was average among martial cultivators—not remarkable, not lacking.

Of course, the clan disciples were another matter.

A limit-breaker’s true strength was hard to discern without actual combat, so Lu Yan would not reveal his full capabilities.

“A month ago, huh?” Zhang Jun smiled meaningfully.

He could now confirm Lu Yan had killed Wu Chaofeng’s gang.

But what did it matter to him?

“Lu Yan, would you like to join the Red Guards?” Zhang Jun asked.

“Join the Red Guards?” Lu Yan was taken aback.

Truthfully, he was tempted.

The Red Guards serve the Liu clan, maintaining order and apprehending criminals—much like the constables of old, far above ordinary folk.

“Sir…”

“Hey, no need for formalities. Just call me Brother Jun,” Zhang Jun said cheerfully.

“Brother Jun, what are the requirements for joining?” Lu Yan inquired.

“Simple: as long as you have a clean record, aren’t a Wu clan spy, and have broken through at least once, you’re eligible.”

“To be honest, recommending a good recruit to the Red Guards earns me a handsome reward,” Zhang Jun said.

His forthrightness earned Lu Yan some goodwill.

“You’re still eating ordinary meat, right? After breaking through, it loses its effect. Join the Red Guards, and you’ll be assigned martial cuisine. New recruits get it every five days, and as you rise, you’ll get more.”

“Plus, every new recruit receives a free third-rate martial art.”

Seeing Lu Yan hesitate, Zhang Jun pressed on.

Martial cuisine and martial arts.

Lu Yan was tempted, but after thinking it over, he replied, “Thank you for your kindness, Brother Jun, but I have parents to care for. If I joined the Red Guards and stayed in the city, I wouldn’t feel at ease leaving them outside. Once I’ve saved enough to buy a house in the city, I’ll join. When the time comes, I hope you’ll recommend me.”

“You’re filial. I won’t press you. If you want to buy a house later, just find me. I’ll take you myself and make sure no one cheats you,” Zhang Jun laughed, not at all offended by Lu Yan’s refusal.

“By the way, a word of warning: things aren’t peaceful lately. Bandits from Maple County have been raiding villages—many deaths.”

Zhang Jun advised him.

“Bandits from Maple County?”

Lu Yan’s expression changed.

Maple County was Lu Qingshan’s old home, devastated by disaster, rife with bandits. He hadn’t expected them to reach Changfeng City.

“Thank you for the warning, Brother Jun. I’ll be careful,” Lu Yan replied.

“Farewell,” Zhang Jun said, waving as he and Chen Ji strode away.