However, this does not mean that the Black Dragon Society dares to confront the authorities. The Qingyangji yamen has only thirty or forty people in total; apart from a dozen or so yamen runners and constables who know a bit of martial arts, the rest are all ordinary people. Yet even these ordinary people are not ones the Black Dragon Society would casually provoke, because the yamen represents the authority of the government, the face of Great Jin. The Black Dragon Society is merely one of the lowest-level gangs in the entire Great Jin jianghu and is in no position to challenge the authorities. Although their influence in Qingyangji is such that they could wipe out the entire yamen within an hour, the government of Great Jin would, in the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, utterly annihilate the Black Dragon Society.

Therefore, although the Black Dragon Society acts somewhat arrogantly, they strictly adhere to the bottom line observed by all gangs in the jianghu, maintaining peaceful relations with the yamen. In fact, it’s more than just peaceful coexistence—there’s even a sense of camaraderie between the military and the people. To put it bluntly, they’re in cahoots.

This is not hard to understand. The Qingyangji yamen has only a handful of people, and its leadership changes every few years. To truly manage Qingyangji well and avoid mishaps, they still need the help of local powers like the Black Dragon Society. Such arrangements exist not only in Yunzhou but throughout Great Jin. It can be said that this is an unspoken rule in the entire Great Jin bureaucracy: small towns rely on grassroots gangs like the Black Dragon Society, while large cities depend on some of the more famous sects in the jianghu. As for the few great sects of Great Jin, they are closely connected with the imperial family and the great noble clans.

Chapter 9: Plotting the Inner Elixir—The Black Dragon Society Makes a Move, the Medicine King Serpent Enters the Mangcang

Qingyangji, southwest district, Black Dragon Society Qingyangji branch.

This is a cluster of black buildings, covering almost the entire southwest district. There isn’t even a road left for people to walk through. Just from this black complex, one can see how domineering the Black Dragon Society is in Qingyangji.

The outermost wall is about twenty feet high, built from thick black stone. In the middle of the wall is a solid black iron gate, which from a distance looks like a small city wall. Inside the wall, the eaves and corners of the buildings can be vaguely seen, with pavilions and towers half-hidden—of course, this is only what can be seen from the outside.

Within Qingyangji, apart from members of the Black Dragon Society and people from the yamen, only Master, Counselor, and Sheriff have ever set foot past that black iron gate.

In the northern corner of the Black Dragon Society’s branch, there is a small garden. Inside the garden stands a three-story building—not large, but exquisitely built. At each of the four corners of the building’s eaves hangs a golden bell, which rings out a crisp and pleasant “ling-ling” sound when the wind blows.

In the night, a faint light glows from a window on the third floor—the only lit spot in the entire building.

The room inside is very spacious. A red carpet with golden trim is spread across the floor, the gold edges gleaming under the light. On the north wall hangs a huge painting of a black dragon soaring among the clouds, claws bared and full of imposing might.

Beneath this giant painting is a golden armchair. At this moment, a man of about sixty, dressed in golden silk, sits in the chair. On each of his cuffs, nine black dragons are embroidered, intertwined with each other.

On either side of the golden armchair, four silver armchairs are arranged in a row, all occupied—men and women, young and old, all present. The youngest is a woman in her thirties, dressed in red, her delicate face carrying a murderous air that starkly contrasts with her beauty.

The room is very quiet. Other than the faint, steady breathing of those present, there is no other sound. At this moment, even if a needle were to fall to the ground, its crisp ring would surely be heard.

“Everyone, that’s the situation. The news has been confirmed. More than half a year ago, Old Owen of Xishan appeared in a mountain village under Qingyangji’s jurisdiction. However, no one was harmed; he was driven off by a soldier named Tyler Walker. What are your thoughts?”

After a long silence, the elderly man in the golden armchair broke the quiet, his gaze drifting over the faces of the eight people on either side, as if trying to read their thoughts from their expressions.

“Tyler Walker has already been investigated. He’s from that village, conscripted into the army a few years ago, and has been stationed at Shenwu City in Yuezhou as a squad leader. It’s said he has a good grasp of martial arts, and with a set of Bear Demon Fist and Mighty Vajra Qigong, he’s already reached the level of a first-rank martial artist. He’s just one step away from touching the threshold of bone-forging. Unfortunately, he has no significant background and is illiterate. His military merits were taken by others, and after his service ended, he returned here.”

The speaker was the red-clad woman with the murderous air. In just a few words, she recounted the main events of Tyler Walker’s life.

“First-rank martial artist?” A middle-aged man sitting opposite her frowned slightly. “If the legends about Old Owen are true, then it should already be considered a monster. No matter how strong a first-rank martial artist is, it’s impossible for him to drive it away!”

“Is Thomas questioning my intelligence?” The murderous air on the red-clad woman’s face suddenly intensified.