“Instead of laughing, you could help,” Zhang Min said.

  “You could go with the other hunters, the ones who often leave the fortress. No special permission needed,” Lao Yu spread his hands. “I can leave anytime myself; I’m just too lazy.”

  “You… why didn’t you say so earlier?” Zhang Min stared at him. “Damn it! What the hell?”

  “Hey! You never asked! Don’t shift the blame onto me! You were obsessed with your training and forgot about everything else.”

  “You could’ve just told me! We talked about all sorts of things!”

  “Pff, as if it were a secret. All you had to do was step outside for a walk, chat with the guys instead of locking yourself in here.” Lao Yu shrugged with a sly grin. “You didn’t exactly try to fit in. You didn’t talk to anyone except our humble bunch.”

  “Some stroll that would’ve been. Think I haven’t been beaten enough already?”

  “Then it’s good you didn’t find out earlier. You might not have come back from the forest. Ha-ha.” After laughing, Lao Yu gave Zhang Ming a sharp look. “You despise everyone here. The guys can feel it. You don’t like them, and they don’t like you back. Fair enough.”

  “I don’t despise anyone.”

  “If you say so. Ha-ha.”

  “I don’t care! Doesn’t matter. Find me a suitable hunting group, and I’ll treat you to meat and wine.”

  “Oh! That’s where you should’ve started,” Lao Yu rubbed his hands together. “But I’d advise waiting until Mo Dousi’s out of the fortress. You won’t have to wait long—he’s always wandering off somewhere.”

  “Good idea!”

  “Wine gives me wisdom!” Lao Yu declared proudly. “By the way, I’ve run out again… my source of wisdom has run dry…”

  Zhang Min began preparing for the trip to the forest, and the former peasants eagerly helped him after he promised to share the spoils. In exchange for a basket of chicken eggs collected personally by Lin Bo, he received from the storehouse a hunting bow, a quiver of arrows, and a canvas bag. Besides hunting, Zhang Min also intended to search for medicinal herbs, so he brought along two samples of the ones he had previously bought from Shang Yunzi.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Just a week later, Lieutenant Mo left the fortress with a small squad on urgent business. After waiting two more days, Zhang Min left the Earth Dragon fortress for the first time in two months, joining a group of five men—old acquaintances of Lao Yu. They were all ordinary bandits, none of them martial practitioners. They knew Zhang Min as the man who had recently gained fame in the Brown Boar unit for his strength, but they asked no questions and treated him with respect.

  The hunters were mostly quiet men, accustomed not to make unnecessary noise lest they scare off the prey. They often communicated with gestures instead of words. The rustling of grass underfoot and the soft whisper of leaves were the only sounds made by the group of six as they moved through the forest. During rests they exchanged a few phrases, then simply listened to the sounds of nature.

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  I like these guys, Zhang Min thought. Even if I got up and walked away right now, they wouldn’t say a word.

  Clouds drifted across the boundless sky, and the vast forest stretched all around, full of hidden riches. The group ventured farther and farther, moving away from the fortress. The hunters navigated easily among the seemingly identical thickets, reading the terrain and tracks with practiced eyes, patiently stalking their prey or waiting in ambush. Along the way, they checked the traps they had set earlier.

  Zhang Min didn’t expect to learn all the subtleties of hunting in one or two trips, so he memorized only the basics, relying on his sharpened senses and observation for the rest. Not wanting to waste such a rare opportunity, he actively searched for medicinal herbs, constantly sweeping the forest floor with his gaze or circling the surroundings while the others rested during breaks. Unfortunately, there were far fewer useful herbs than one might expect from a forested mountain.

  The bandits have already picked this place clean. I need to find somewhere else, he thought.

  The hunt lasted only a single day. The group of six left early in the morning and returned by evening. They were lucky enough to track down and kill a young boar, mostly thanks to Zhang Min’s inhuman speed; otherwise, the wounded beast would have escaped. They divided the hefty carcass into portions, each carrying his share. Tired but happy, they returned to the fortress.

  “Good hunt,” the leader of the hunting group said, patting Zhang Min on the shoulder. The others nodded silently.

  After bidding them farewell, Zhang Min headed to the livestock yard to share the meat as promised. There, all four peasants and Lao Yu were already waiting, the latter hugging a jug of wine. Lin Bin ran to meet him and took from Zhang Min’s hands a meaty boar leg and a rabbit carcass. Smiling broadly, he immediately began cooking, while the new hunter was seated in the best spot, treated as an honored guest or family member.

  Soon the yard was filled with the aroma of meat soup, roasted rabbit, and other dishes. The rough table they had built themselves groaned under the food—simple, yet delicious. Smiles lit every face; even in their peasant days they had rarely eaten meat. Landlords forbade hunting on their estates and confiscated livestock under the pretext of taxes.

  Look at them, Zhang Min thought with a faint smile. What kind of hell did they live in if a piece of meat brings tears to their eyes?

  From that day on, he went hunting almost every day. He did not always return with a catch, but he did more or less study the terrain around the fort and finally saw the road by which he had been brought up the mountain. From conversations with his new companions, he learned about the most dangerous places in the forest where one should not venture, but they kept quiet about the best hunting grounds. They usually did not go far, so Zhang Min still had no idea where exactly he was or where the approximate boundary of the forest lay.

  He now had freedom of movement, since no one wanted to fight him anymore and strangers had stopped attacking him in the streets. He often walked around the Earth Dragon Fortress, building a mental map of the area. Carefully, trying not to arouse suspicion even in Lao Yu, he asked the locals which towns were closest to the bandits’ mountain. Unfortunately, he stumbled here — he did not know the local geography.

  The wounds he had received over the previous days were slowly healing. Zhang Min enjoyed his newfound strength and wanted more, as if he had become addicted to it. Among the bandits he found those who knew something about plants useful to martial practitioners and traded for three more samples of medicinal herbs, as well as a fairly good-quality scroll with drawings of plants.

  “Good thing I stayed in the fortress after all,” Zhang Min thought. “I hope Xue and Mingzhu are doing well. I freed them from that perpetually drunk father who beat them and took their money. They survived with him. I think they’re much better off now without him. Hong Shu is nearby.”

  The Realm of Body Tempering was only the beginning of a martial artist’s path. It consisted of nine stages, each harder to reach than the last. Zhang Min had achieved only the first. A long road lay ahead and he knew he could not traverse it without the aid of medicines. Here, on this forested mountain, he hoped to find what he never could have gained in the city.