Why do I have so many masters?

In the wooden hut, Wang Anfeng lay on the bed with his eyes half-closed, seemingly deeply asleep. He had decided to find out who the visitor was, and to be safe, he had already quietly started circulating the Medicine King Valley Legitimate Heir Heart Method, the Mixed Yuan Body. The flow of his inner strength calmed and settled his mind.

Outside, Liang Jingxuan and another were cautiously approaching.

Liang Jingxuan waved his hand for the fat man to crouch beside him while he himself gently pushed against the window with an adept force, his wrist quivering slightly. Somehow, the window that Wang Anfeng had locked was opened with a click.

Liang Jingxuan's breathing remained undisturbed as he stole a glance inside.

He had cultivated a type of Pupil Skill that required applying various unique medicinal liquids to his eyelids and combining it with breathing techniques. It took months of arduous practice to achieve the initial stage. Once mastered, even in places void of light at night, he could see clearly.

In recent years, it was precisely by utilizing this mystical art that he had made many deals. Now, as he peered inside, he indeed saw the young man lying clothed on the bed, with the Fire Refining Sect's Cangyuan Sword — worth 50,000 silver — on the youth's back. Initially delighted, he then frowned slightly.

His original plan was to silently enter and take the Cangyuan Sword if Wang Anfeng was asleep, but although Wang Anfeng appeared 'asleep,' the sword was still on his back. Martial artists have an extremely keen perception, especially those skilled with weapons. If he accidentally woke Wang Anfeng, all his efforts would be in vain.

After pondering for a moment, Liang Jingxuan gritted his teeth in reluctance and reached for a small paper packet at his waist. The packet was rigorously sealed with oil paper both inside and out, obviously something he considered extremely valuable.

Liang Jingxuan took a deep breath, opened the paper packet, and retrieved a delicate tool from his chest. He poured all the medicinal powder into the tool and aimed it at the young man inside the house, gently blowing the powder in.

This powder was no ordinary sleeping drug. Though unremarkable in appearance, it was also a ranked item, quite effective. Martial artists wandering the Jianghu, even those not weak in martial arts, could not escape its effects, commonly known as 'Knockout Drug.' In the underworld slang of the Fufeng region, it was called 'Three Steps Down.'.

Which meant that after inhaling this powder, even a Ninth Grade martial artist wouldn't last more than three steps before collapsing, unable to resist anyone's control.

There were many such things in the Jianghu, but what Liang Jingxuan held could be considered a treasure, as the ingredients included were extraordinary. Thus he felt a pang of distress gripping the tool, his hand trembling.

But thinking of the shining pile of 50,000 silver, he steeled his heart. He blew in the last bit of the precious powder. Given the potency of the drug, even a fierce mountain tiger or vibrant big cat would be subdued. Only then did he put his tool away.

His face turned slightly pale, whether from the long breath he had taken or the pain of using his precious resource.
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Stepping back two paces, even in the cold night air, he felt a certain hot and dry sensation, causing his lips to crack slightly, as an eternity seemed to pass within him.

After a short while, hearing no disturbance from the hut, he gradually relaxed.

Liang Jingxuan looked towards the fat man with a forced ease and said:

"See that? Why the hell are you nervous?"

"No matter if it's guarding the library or the Constellation Ranking List, isn't it true that after I blow this top-notch drug, nothing happens, not even a peep, and they just pass out? All that talk of a promising youth, distinguished swordsmanship?"

"Pshaw!"

"It's all bloody nonsense! Just polishing their own facades."

After cursing under his breath for a moment and glancing around, he whispered to the now-relaxed fat man:

"Fatso, the usual protocol."

"I'll go in, and you keep watch outside. If anyone comes, lead them away."

"If we succeed, I'll take sixty percent, you get forty."

The fat man nodded, pulling out two light, thin, double-edged Emei Water Splitting Spikes from around his waist, and stood guard nervously behind, while Liang Jingxuan first took an antidote, and then carefully pushed open Wang Anfeng's wooden door.

The door, normally creaky due to disrepair, now moved smoothly without a hint of noise.

Liang Jingxuan slowed his steps, crossed the front room, and moved towards Wang Anfeng.

The sound of his footsteps and breathing, though impossible to eliminate completely, were masked by the wind outside with such skill that even a conscious person would hardly notice without looking. This was a method only assassins skilled at such deeds would master; it wasn't martial arts, but rather the valuable experience exchanged for predecessors' lives.

A moment later, Liang Jingxuan had reached the bedside, his steps ceasing. He looked at the still 'sleeping' Wang Anfeng, a slight smirk on his lips, an air of composure about him. From his waist, he drew a brilliantly shiny short knife in case the other suddenly woke.

With his left hand, he reached for the wooden sword. As his fingers touched the cool, smooth sensation of the sword scabbard, his eyes lit up with joy, and he silently congratulated himself on his success.

Just at that moment, an indescribable feeling of weakness suddenly emerged.

Liang Jingxuan's vision blurred, his steps faltered as if he had not slept for several nights, and he almost collapsed to the ground. Just as he realized something was amiss, a strong hand grabbed his right arm, steadying him, preventing him from crashing to the floor, and shocking the youth awake.

Liang Jingxuan took a long sigh of relief in his heart; his back was already drenched in a cold sweat. Instinctively, he said:

"Thank you..."

Before his voice had even finished, his heart abruptly stopped. He stiffly raised his head and saw the owner of the hand, a smiling youth in blue, who was whispering to him:

"You're welcome."

A chill ran down Liang Jingxuan's spine, his hairs standing on end. As an assassin, he was naturally prepared to risk his life. Gritting his teeth, he reversed grip on his dagger and stabbed towards Wang Anfeng's body, thinking only of fleeing immediately after the strike. Yet as he wielded the dagger, Wang Anfeng was still sitting on the bed, unmoved and silent.

At the same time, his right hand shot out, deceptively slow but actually swift, using the Medicine King Valley's Star Pointing Finger Technique to "coincidentally" strike the Neiguan acupoint on Liang Jingxuan's wrist. Already weak and powerless for reasons unknown, Liang Jingxuan felt his wrist go numb after this hit; he could no longer hold onto his weapon. The dagger fell, and Wang Anfeng grabbed it with his left hand.

At the same moment, the youth's Star Pointing Finger Technique flowed expertly and almost instinctively from Liang Jingxuan's Neiguan acupoint to the Waiguan, Quchi, Cubit Marsh, and Lieque acupoints. Liang Jingxuan's vision blurred, and before he could see clearly, he lost sensation in half of his body and slumped to the ground.

His face blank and incredulous, unable to believe what was happening, he saw the blue-clothed youth retract his fingers, stand up, and smile at him:

"Sorry about that."

"The posture you were making looked so inviting I couldn't help but strike."

Liang Jingxuan swallowed and, looking at the vibrant young man before him, said:

"No, it's impossible."

"What have you done to me?!"

Wang Anfeng did not answer directly but instead flicked the dagger in his hand, held it reversed, and idly twirled it.

He had been painstakingly contemplating the "Ghost Head Saber" techniques in the Shaolin Temple not long ago; now with a dagger in hand, it was only natural for him to execute a move from that technique. Liang Jingxuan saw only the vicious flash of the blade in front of him, which seemed to tread a fine line between life and death, making him tremble at heart, filled with regret.

At that moment, Wang Anfeng's wrist moved slightly, and the dagger sprung forward, pressing against Liang Jingxuan's throat. With the situation under control and his expression naturally calm, he faced the ill-intentioned person before him without his usual gentleness. His eyebrows slightly cooler, he exuded a trace of Mr. Ying's demeanor, calm and composed, pressing with his words step by step:

"What have I done to you?"

"Nothing much."

"Just added one more ingredient to your sleeping drug."

Liang Jingxuan was taken aback, then noticed for the first time the short piece of incense tucked in the wooden crack at the head of the bed, lit without him knowing. Wang Anfeng had laid sideways on the bed earlier, inadvertently hiding the incense. Now that he had moved, it was clear to see.

The tip of the incense glowed red, emitting wisps of white smoke that, after dispersing, became colorless and odorless, seemingly mocking him. His mind grew fuzzier, but then he suddenly recalled something he had heard about while roaming the Jianghu.

It was said that martial artists skilled in medical knowledge could not only distinguish the composition of drugs by their smell but could also disrupt the original medicinal combination with other substances, making those who attempted to poison them suffer the consequences. These were among the most difficult opponents to encounter in the Jianghu.

Now disarmed and unable to use any martial arts, his mental state was already unbalanced. Guessing that the young man before him possessed advanced medical skills only increased his unease. He looked up and saw that although Wang Anfeng appeared calm, there was a trace of coldness in his face, making Liang Jingxuan involuntarily swallow.

The more composed Wang Anfeng spoke, the more unsettled Liang Jingxuan felt.

He felt that the young man before him hardly resembled the gallant youth he had heard about, who was gentle and courteous. Instead, he bore a resemblance to some of the underworld bosses and evil sect leaders he had had the fortune of encountering—inscrutable all.

With preconceived notions taking hold, he was convinced that this young man's usual demeanor was nothing but a disguise, and he thought back to how he had eagerly entered the room, akin to courting death. Tears almost burst forth as he wished he could smash his head against the wall.

What a way to seek death.

PS: Here comes the first update...