The sunlight gradually slanted westward, painting the warm amber with a languid orange hue.

Around thirty miles west of Jiangning, near Jiangzuo Village, Ning Ji was watching an engrossing standoff by the roadside.

This was a fork in the road near the village entrance, not far from the main road. On each side of the threshing ground stood more than thirty people, exchanging obscenities. Among them, about a dozen on each side seemed to have seen real bloodshed, armed with knives and guns, posing a significant threat if a fight broke out. The rest appeared to be young and strong men from nearby villages, carrying sticks and hoes, shouting and hollering to bolster their numbers.

Because it wasn't far from the main road, many travelers were drawn to the scene and stopped to watch. The roadsides, the edges of nearby ponds, and the ridges of the fields were soon lined with people. A large caravan stopped its carts, and dozens of burly guards pointed and gestured from a distance. Ning Ji stood at the intersection of the field ridge, enjoying the spectacle, occasionally joining in with the onlookers' shouts, "Take my advice, have a fight!"

He didn't actually know why the two sides were fighting.

The two sides had also raised banners: one bearing the "Earth" insignia of the Baofeng Company, and the other representing the "Resentment Assembly" of Zhuan Lun Wang Ba Zhizhong. In reality, the heads of the "Heaven, Earth, and Man" factions under Baofeng and the "Eight Executives" under Chu Zhaonan might not have even recognized these individuals; this was just a minor squabble. However, once the banners were raised, the standoff took on a sense of ceremony and became highly topical.

"The Baofeng Company has a lot of money, but when it comes to fighting, they might not be able to beat Zhuan Lun Wang's Eight Sufferings of Life..."

Some knowledgeable figures in the underworld were discussing the matter on the field ridge. Ning Ji pricked up his ears to listen.

"Indeed, indeed. Those from the Great Brightness Sect drink talisman water and fear nothing. Although the Baofeng Company has money, they might not gain the upper hand."

Ning Ji jumped up, cupping his hands around his mouth, "Stop arguing! Have a fight!"

The threshing ground had indeed reached the fighting stage. The two sides retreated a short distance, each sending out a fighter to face off.

The Zhuan Lun Wang's "Resentment Assembly" sent out a gaunt young man who seemed rather unhinged. He held a cleaver in his hand, his eyes gleamed fiercely. He drank a bowl of talisman water, and then began to tremble in front of everyone, waving his arms and stamping his feet as if summoning a deity. This man seemed to be a trump card for the village, and after he began to tremble, the crowd became excited. Someone who recognized him said, "Nezha, the Third Prince! Nezha, the Third Prince, has possessed him! The other side is in for a rough time!"

"Doesn't Nezha use a spear?" Ning Ji asked, turning his head.

Someone slapped him on the head. "What do you know, you little kid! The Third Prince is infamous around here, he's killed countless people on the battlefield!"

The slap wasn't very strong, and Ning Ji didn't dodge. He turned back and ignored the idiot. As for the other person's claim that the "Third Prince" had killed people on the battlefield, he didn't doubt it. The man's expression seemed inhuman, the kind of person who had suffered a mental breakdown on the battlefield but survived. In the Huaxia Army, such people would be sent for psychological counseling to nip the problem in the bud, but this man was clearly already dangerous. No wonder the villagers used him as a fighter.

While the "summoning" process was taking place, the representative from the Baofeng Company turned out to be a well-proportioned pugilist. He was half a head taller than the "Resentment Assembly's" killing machine. His clothes didn't make him appear particularly muscular, and against an opponent wielding a knife, he simply wrapped several layers of oiled cloth around his hands as boxing gloves. The crowd jeered at his unimpressive demeanor, feeling that his aura had already been overwhelmed by the "Third Prince."

The people from the Baofeng Company were also very nervous. Several people fussed over the pugilist, and someone seemed to bring him a knife or a gun, but the pugilist didn't choose any of them. This suggested that the people fighting under the Baofeng Company banner weren't very familiar with him. In the eyes of the onlookers, he had already lost eighty percent.

Ning Ji, however, found it interesting.

The pugilist's movements were exceptionally calm. The way he wrapped the oiled cloth was very practiced. After he made a fist, his knuckles were larger than average, and the line of his knuckles was straight. In addition, the outline of his upper arm visible when the wind moved his sleeves indicated that he had practiced boxing since childhood and was a master of the art. Moreover, his even breathing in the face of such a scene, with a slight sense of urgency hidden in his natural expression, revealed that he had seen his share of bloodshed.

The two groups had chosen to settle their score in such a public setting, clearly with the intention of showcasing their strength. After the "Third Prince" shouted and jumped around for a while, the pugilist cupped his fist in salute to the surrounding crowd. Then the two sides quickly engaged.

The "Third Prince," who had seen blood on the battlefield, wielded his knife fiercely and violently, his attacks and movements like a mad monkey. The pugilist initially retreated and dodged. In the first round, the "Third Prince" launched a series of slashing attacks, aiming almost ten strikes at his opponent. The pugilist circled the field, dodging and evading, appearing several times to be in dire straits. He only made three threatening counter punches, but none of them actually hit his opponent.

Seeing the "Third Prince" continue his assault with loud shouts, Ning Ji sighed softly. The man's aura was strong when he went crazy, somewhat similar to Shi Shuifang of the "Miao Blade" in Tongshan County, but his own martial arts weren't that impressive. This limited his potential. Compared to ordinary people who hadn't been on the battlefield, this kind of madman who could be ruthless...

...was extremely terrifying in terms of momentum, but once you stabilized your footing...

On the threshing ground, the "Third Prince" slashed out with his knife, then, without stopping, kicked out fiercely at his opponent's groin. This was probably a planned combination technique. The upper body's swing of the knife wasn't particularly fierce; the kick below was meant to be unexpected. Based on the previous exchanges, his opponent should have dodged, but at that moment, the pugilist took a step forward into the path of the blade. His legs twisted and contorted, the slashing blade tore through his shoulder, and the "Third Prince's" stance faltered. The pugilist trapped the fierce groin kick between his legs, and then delivered a powerful punch to his face.

"Aaaaaaaagh—"

The "Third Prince's" scream was twisted and ferocious. The knife in his hand flashed as he staggered backward. The pugilist pressed forward relentlessly. The two exchanged a few blows, and then another punch landed on the "Third Prince's" cheek. The pugilist then twisted his arm and pinned it behind his back. The hand holding the knife was seized, and his feet moved frantically, like a lame monkey jumping wildly. The pugilist landed another punch on his shoulder, then two more on his face.

The "Third Prince" released the knife hilt with his right hand and reached for the blade with his left. There was a cracking sound as the pugilist's fist shattered his right arm. The pugilist dragged him around, punching him repeatedly, and the oiled cloth boxing gloves were soon covered in blood.

After striking him for a while, when he released the "Third Prince," the latter was twisted on the ground in the pool of blood like a broken sack. His hand was broken, his feet were in bad shape, and his head and face were covered in blood. But his body was still twitching in the blood, and he seemed to want to stand up and continue fighting. Ning Ji guessed that he wouldn't live long, but perhaps it was a kind of release.

"I am 'Iron Fist' Ni Po! From Ji Province." Under the setting sun, the pugilist spread his arms and shouted to the crowd, "In two days, representing the Equality King's 'Earth' banner, I will participate in the Five Directions Arena. I invite everyone to come and support me—"

The crowd cheered and praised his heroic demeanor. After a while, Ning Ji heard people talking behind him again.

"The Five Directions Arena isn't easy. It's a stage set up by 'King Yama' Zhou Shang. You have to fight three matches in a row, and people die..."

"Alas, young people are proud and arrogant, and they think they are invincible once they have some skills. I think he was tricked by the Baofeng Company people..."

"Indeed, indeed. King Yama's people really came from the gates of hell, unlike Zhuan Lun Wang's people who worship the Buddha."

"Still too young..."

The voice in this discussion included the idiot who had hit him on the head earlier. Ning Ji curled his lip and walked towards the main road, shaking his head. Over the course of the day, he had figured out the outline of the various events in Jiangning and was satisfied. He was more open-minded about being patted on the head like a child.

If he had to choose a nickname for himself, he should be "Profoundly Cultivated" Long Aotian, but unfortunately, no one knew it yet.

The sun set. Ning Ji walked through the road and the crowd, heading east.

Jiangning—

Similar to the situation in Chengdu last year, after the news of the Heroes' Assembly spread, this ancient city became a mixed bag of characters and gathered people from all walks of life.

Unlike the situation then, in the Southwest last year, the Huaxia Army veterans who had experienced the battlefield and survived fighting the Jurchens were all under military discipline and did not come out to show off their skills. Therefore, even though thousands of martial artists entered Chengdu, those who participated in the end were only in an orderly sports meet. This made Little Ning Ji, who only feared that the world would not be chaotic enough, feel bored.

But in the current Jiangning, the Fair Governance Party's posture was like raising poisonous insects. Large numbers of subordinates who had experienced fighting were released outside, batch after batch. Under the name of the Five Great Kings, they continued to fight fiercely. After strongmen who licked blood from the edge of the knife entered from other places, the periphery of Jiangning City was like a jungle, full of monsters baring their fangs and claws.

Among them, of course, there were many embroidered pillows with loud voices and weak steps, but there were indeed many who had killed, seen blood, been on the battlefield, and survived. Their methods of fighting on the battlefield might not have been as systematic as those of the Huaxia Army, but the bloodiness and fear that each individual felt, and the inhuman aura that was brewed as a result, were similar.

The entire Fair Governance Party seemed to want to further catalyze this kind of Asura-like aura. They not only set up a large arena for the Heroes' Assembly in Jiangning, but also set up various small arenas in private by several forces within the Fair Governance Party. Every day, every day, they had people go on stage to fight. Whoever showed amazing skills in the arena could not only take away the generous assets set up by the ringleader, but would also be immediately wooed and bought over by various parties, and in the blink of an eye would become a big figure with a face and a face in the Fair Governance Party's army.

For many Jianghu people who licked blood from the edge of a knife—including many people within the Fair Governance Party—this was a path of advancement full of risks and temptations.

For example, the Five Directions Arena set up by "King Yama" Zhou Shang in the city. Anyone who could pass three matches in a row in the arena could take away a reward of one hundred taels of silver in public, and would also receive generous solicitations from various parties. At this moment when the Heroes' Assembly began, various factions in the city were recruiting troops. He Wen set up the "Three Rivers Arena", Shi Baofeng had the "Tianbao Platform", Gao Chang had the "Million Soldiers and Horses Arena", Chu Zhaonan had the "Reaching Heaven Arena". Every day, every arena would decide several experts to make a name for themselves. After these people were wooed by various parties, they would eventually enter the entire "Heroes' Assembly" and win the final championship for a certain force.

In Ning Ji's eyes, this kind of wild, bloody, and chaotic situation was even more worth watching than last year's Chengdu Assembly, not to mention that the martial arts competition this time might also involve more complex political struggles between various factions of the Fair Governance Party—of course, he was not interested in politics, but knowing that it would be more chaotic was enough.

In the process of advancing in this way, of course, he would occasionally discover a few truly bright people, such as the "Iron Fist" Ni Po just now, or such and such weird people who were likely to have amazing skills and extraordinary backgrounds. They were a bit more interesting than the various cutthroats and fierce people who survived on the battlefield.

This was a hobby that had been left over from his time in the army. Peeping... No, the surveillance in the army was this principle. Before the other party noticed you, you had already discovered the other party's secrets. When you fight in the future, you would naturally have a few more chances to win. Ning Ji was short when he was young, and was often arranged to be a scout when he followed Zheng Qiming to check the enemy's whereabouts. Now he has developed this habit of secretly peeping, and the reason for this is to serve the country and the people, and no one can say that this is a bad habit.

In addition, since he had been taught at home since he was a child, from Hong Ti to watermelon to Chen Fan, and then to Du Sha and the various experts in the military camp, all of them had instilled various martial arts knowledge in him. At this moment, he could verify many of the sayings in martial arts from the people he saw on the road. He saw through it but did not say it, but he also felt it was a pleasure.

When the setting sun completely turned orange-red, it was still more than twenty miles away from Jiangning. Ning Ji was not in a hurry to enter the city today. He found a branch of the waterway that was common on the roadside, went upstream for a while, and saw traces of fish and frogs by a stream below, so he went down to catch them.

At this time, autumn had begun to deepen, the weather was about to turn cold, and some frogs had already turned into the mud to prepare for hibernation, but with good luck, he could still find traces of a few. Ning Ji was barefoot in the mud, rummaging around, catching a few frogs, and touching a fish. He heard the sound from the other side of the stream's turning corner. He searched all the way and turned around, only to see someone also catching fish in the upstream stream. Because of Ning Ji's appearance, he was slightly stunned, and the fish ran away.

Appearing in the shallow water there was the little monk he had seen at the entrance of the post station at noon today. He also caught two or three frogs and stuffed them in his cloth bag, which was probably the dinner he was preparing. At this time, when he saw Ning Ji, he put his hands together and saluted. Ning Ji also put his hands together and said "Amitofu", then turned around and ignored him.

This little bald head has a very good martial arts foundation, and should have a very powerful teacher. In the glimpse at noon, a few big men reached out from behind to grab his shoulder, but he dodged without even looking back. This is nothing to an expert, but the most important thing is that Ning Ji noticed his footwork cultivation at that moment. That is to say, before that, this little bald head showed himself to be a completely ordinary person without martial arts skills. This kind of naturalness and restraint could not be taught by ordinary methods.

Of course, on the other hand, although he was drooling when he looked at the roast duck, he did not intend to snatch it by relying on his skills. He was not angry when he failed to beg for alms and was kicked out by the waiter. This shows that his upbringing is also good. In this troubled world, when originally docile people have become fierce, this kind of upbringing can be said to be "very good".

Therefore, Ning Ji would be relatively relaxed when he saw him.

The two caught frogs and fish for a while. The little monk caught only a small fish with his bare hands and put it in his cloth bag. Ning Ji's harvest was not bad. Then he went up the nearby earthen slope to prepare to make a fire.

He put down the baggage and medicine box behind him, and took out a small iron pot from the baggage, preparing to set up a stove. At this time, most of the setting sun had been submerged in the sky at the end of the horizon, and the last rays of light shone through the forest. There were birds chirping in the forest. He raised his head and saw the little monk standing there in the water, pinching his small cloth bag, looking at this side with some envy.

Ning Ji also looked at the little monk's equipment - the other party's belongings were too simple. In addition to a small package, the shoes left on the earthen slope and the small rice bowl for begging for alms, there was nothing else, and it seemed that there was no iron pot in the small package, which was far inferior to his carrying two packages and a box.

He thought for a while and waved to that side: "Hey, little bald head."

The little monk ran over with his cloth bag.

"You don't even have a pot, do you want to eat with us?"

"...Okay, okay." The little monk's face turned red, and he seemed very happy for a while, then he calmed down slightly, put his hands together and bowed: "Little, Little Na is polite."

"Go pick up firewood." Ning Ji had many friends since he was a child, so he was not polite at this moment. He waved his hand casually and sent him to do things. The little monk nodded immediately: "Okay." Just as he was about to leave, he handed over the baggage in his hand: "I caught it, for you."

Ning Ji took the baggage and saw the other party running into the nearby mountain forest in a puff of smoke, and curled his lips slightly.

"Not afraid that I will take things and leave, stupid..."

After a while, the sky completely darkened, and the two of them set up an earthen stove behind the hillside
Under the big stone, a fire was lit. The little monk was full of joy, and Ning Ji casually talked to him.

"Little bald head, why do you call yourself Little Na?"

"Master sometimes calls himself Old Na, I said can I call myself Little Na, Master said it doesn't matter."

"Oh. Your master has some skills..."

"Haha..."