Does an assassin only need to know how to kill?
Zhang San said no, definitely not.
Ordinary assassins only need to know how to kill, but sturdy assassins need extremely abundant knowledge reserves.
So don't ever think that assassins don't read books. Excellent sturdy assassins like Zhang San have read more books than you've eaten meals.
And because of Zhang San's rich knowledge in martial arts, not only has he trained a pair of wise eyes, he also understands how to erase any traces of being a martial arts expert from himself.
Breathing, inner breath, palms, arms, legs - every martial artist, more or less, after years and years of practice, will have some special characteristics somewhere on their body depending on the type of martial arts. However, Zhang San did not. His whole body, except when exercising inner breath, looks just like an ordinary person no matter how you look at him.
Because he looks ordinary no matter how you look at him, Zhang San did not actually attract much attention at Old Wang's house, and even the surrounding neighbors did not pay too much attention to him.
He was just a refugee beggar, helping out with fishing work at Old Wang's house in exchange for a place to stay and a few meals.
The days went by quickly. Zhang San had already been at Old Wang's house for five days, no more no less.
According to Zhang San's usual procedures and his confidence in himself, he could usually figure out the target's strength and whether they were hiding any secrets within three days, then he could prepare to decide whether to take action.
But as mentioned before, this was a battle where Zhang San was trying to overcome his fears, so Zhang San was being extra careful this time.
In the five days, Zhang San observed and experimented. For this, Zhang San even made a table in his mind with orderly, step-by-step investigation directions.
The first one was legwork, or qinggong (lightness skill).
Zhang San had always believed that qinggong was useful, but it depended on the situation.
It's better to escape on time than escape quickly!
Determining whether the other party knew qinggong, and to what level they had cultivated it - in case a fight broke out and he was outmatched, understanding the target's mastery of qinggong could possibly save your life.
People who have practiced qinggong, first of all their breathing and exhaling tend to be light, but through observation, Zhang San knew Old Wang did not have this kind of performance.
Then could it be enough to prove Old Wang was not a qinggong expert?
Of course not.
So these past few days, Zhang San had been washing Old Wang's feet, from his feet to his calves, under the beautiful name of repaying kindness. Through this, Zhang San understood that the other party probably did not have a foundation in qinggong.
What? Washing someone's feet is too shameless?
Zhang San said he had already joined the underworld, so what more face did he need to keep? Stop distracting me.
Second, not knowing qinggong does not mean not knowing martial arts.
Martial artists, no matter how high their inner energy, would practice some external skills more or less, such as fists and feet, or sword techniques.
Through helping Old Wang with various fishing tasks, Zhang San did discover that Old Wang's arms and hands were indeed powerful, much stronger than average people's, but in the end, through some details on Old Wang's palms, Zhang San determined that Old Wang did not know any bladework or other weaponry skills.
Both fishers and weapon practitioners get calluses on their hands, but in different locations.
Because fishing nets are always damp and require wiping with the palms, fishermen who rely solely on arm strength to haul fishing nets, and martial artists who rely on inner strength and wield at least fifteen-jin heavy swords, even up to hundred-jin heavy sabers, the wear and tear on their palms is completely different, so the calluses on their hands are naturally also different.
Judging from Old Wang's palms, it was unlikely he had ever touched weapons, kitchen knives excepted.
Speaking of fist and palm techniques, the first characteristic is that their fingers and finger pads tend to be rougher and stronger than average people's due to sparring with others and solo practice. Second is wrist and arm strength - fist technique experts must have strong wrists and arms.
As for palm techniques, apart from wrist and arm strength, the insides of their palms, whether abrasions or calluses, should be fairly evenly distributed, and the muscles of the palm should be especially tight and rough from constantly exerting inner energy into the palm.
Zhang San did not discover these characteristics on Old Wang.
The third type of martial arts is divided into inner and outer skills.
Not knowing external skills, or only knowing external skills at a shoddy level, does not mean the inner energy is not high. Inner energy masters at the Heaven rank, even without any palm or sword techniques, can kill someone at the Earth rank with one palm strike relying solely on inner strength.
To avoid problems,
Zhang San put on a performance of drowning.
But how could a 'monster' who could swim 100 meters in just 30 seconds realistically act like he was drowning?
This sounds like a problem, but if someone had seen Zhang San's acting skills before, they would not think this was a problem.
In fact, all revealed flaws in acting performances can only prove the actor's skills were lacking.
Whereas all flawless performances are proof of the actor's unparalleled skills.
For example, the drowning Zhang San even fooled the fisherman Old Wang and did not reveal any falseness, but while Old Wang jumped into the water and rescued the 'passed out from choking on water' Zhang San, Zhang San, whose hand was grasping Old Wang's wrist, had already completely discerned his breathing, exhaling, heartbeat and everything else while swimming.
In the end, Zhang San concluded that Old Wang did not know inner energy either.
After five days, Zhang San finally confirmed!
Old Wang was just an ordinary person.
What? These five days were wasted?
Zhang San said, how could this be a waste of time? This was just another steady record in my steady assassin career.
The fifty taels should be at hand now.
On the night of the fifth day, Zhang San, having decided how he would take action tomorrow, had already started thinking about how to spend the fifty taels after getting his hands on it. With these thoughts, Zhang San fell asleep.
...
...
On the sixth day, Zhang San would overcome the fear he had held for twenty years.
He deliberately woke up late today, because he had heard yesterday that there would be heavy fog on the river today, and all the fishermen from the neighboring village would not go fishing today.
After Old Wang got up, he left a plain steamed bun on the table for Zhang San, then took his fishing rod and went out.
Strangely, this fisherman Old Wang would feel restless all over if he didn't get to touch fish for a day. Even though there was fog today, he still took his fishing rod and pail to the river to fish.
Zhang San silently followed behind him.
There were not many people in the neighboring village early in the morning. With qinggong and eyesight comparable to top assassins on the Heavenly Rankings, Zhang San naturally did not let any villagers notice him.
As an aside, for professional safety, these past five days Zhang San had done simple investigations into the geography and villagers of this village.
And so, Zhang San followed Old Wang to the riverside. There was a broken bridge by the riverside, and conveniently, no one else was around. Old Wang came onto the bridge, put down his fishing rod, and leisurely started fishing.
Yet he did not know that at this moment, a figure as light as a swallow had just soundlessly landed on the broken bridge behind him.
The sharp dagger flashed with cold light, dangerous as the fangs of a wild beast.
Zhang San looked at Old Wang and said to himself: "This time, I will win against myself. I will never...lose fifty taels again!"
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
