Chapter Forty-Six: Harvest

Meng Yitian and the others did not linger here for long before Yang Ze instructed them to return. Tonight, his aim was only to instill fear in these people; he hadn’t yet conceived further plans, and besides, he had assigned them other tasks. Once his subordinates were settled, he intended to gather all the capable experts he could muster here—after all, the headquarters could not be left without formidable defenders.

“Young Master, aren’t you going to rest?” Old Xie approached after the others had departed.

“There’s still a very important matter left. Come, bring twenty men and a few wagons—we’re heading to the Black Tiger Hall.”

At Yang Ze’s words, Old Xie’s eyes lit up, and he immediately set things in motion.

Late at night, outside the Black Tiger Hall, darkness reigned. Yang Ze stood there, surrounded by more than a dozen men holding torches, their flames casting just enough light for Yang Ze to see the hall ahead. The once-crowded Black Tiger Hall was now utterly deserted, not a glimmer of light within, and the silence felt profound.

Yang Ze hadn’t come at this hour to gaze upon an empty house; he was here for the Black Tiger Hall’s treasury.

With a wave of his hand, two men led the way with torches. Yang Ze followed, and, relying on the clues the Black Tiger had left, he quickly located the treasury. No wonder the Black Tiger was so confident it wouldn’t be easily discovered—the treasury wasn’t built above ground, but hidden in a secret underground chamber, protected by traps and mechanisms that ordinary people would never find.

Using the key left behind by the Black Tiger, Yang Ze unlocked the treasury door. A stone chamber appeared before them. Old Xie was the first to enter, lighting the candles inside, and only then did Yang Ze lead the others in.

Upon entering, they were greeted by a large pile of weapons and blades stacked in the center of the room, occupying considerable space. On the left side stood several rows of wooden shelves laden with paintings, calligraphy, scrolls of mystical arts, and antique vases—a sizeable collection. On the right, several large chests were stacked, filling the entire space; a few of these chests in the corner were half-open, and under the flickering candlelight, occasional flashes of silver gleamed from within.

At the back of the chamber stood a large rack displaying a small number of superior weapons—each appeared of much higher quality than those piled on the ground. Atop the rack were several small, finely crafted wooden boxes.

Bypassing the central pile of weapons, Yang Ze went straight to the right side and opened each chest in turn, revealing a trove of silvery light. At this, every eye in the chamber widened, breaths grew heavy—for these chests were filled to the brim with silver.

Yang Ze glanced over them. He was no expert, but he could tell at least several thousand taels of silver were here—a fortune wrung from the Black Tiger, and pure profit. The Black Tiger Hall had operated for years on Xiangyun Street, and this hoard far surpassed the reserves of the Tongyang Bank.

Although Yang Ze had recently seized several territories, time had been short, and profits only modest. Each month, he also had to remit wealth and resources to the Yang family, leaving him with little at hand. Now, with all this silver falling into his possession, these were assets he could truly call his own.

Suppressing his excitement, Yang Ze instructed the others to inventory the pile of weapons and the antiques and paintings on the shelves. The weapons could be kept for personal use, saving the cost of forging new arms, while the antiques and artworks could be sold for yet more funds.

He left the chests of silver behind and moved to the large rack at the back. Picking up a blade, he gave it a test swing; the weapon vibrated with a satisfying heft. Nodding, Yang Ze replaced it. Though there were few weapons here, each was of fine quality—suitable for martial artists who had reached the Qi Induction stage.

Finally, he glanced up at the wooden boxes atop the rack, taking the first one down. After checking to ensure it was safe, he opened it. Inside lay a land deed. Quickly, he opened the remaining boxes as well. As expected, most contained deeds to properties owned by Black Tiger Hall, along with account books and other documents.

However, two of the boxes held different treasures that piqued Yang Ze’s interest. One contained two martial arts manuals—Mighty Strength Technique and the Evergreen Art. Both seemed profound, though incomplete; they could only be cultivated up to the mid-stage of Qi Induction, no further. Yet for Yang Ze, this was no obstacle—with the Black Stone, he could extrapolate and perfect even incomplete techniques.

The other box held two martial arts as well: the Black Tiger Blade Technique and Thunder Fist. The sight of the Black Tiger Blade Technique gave Yang Ze an odd feeling. He’d assumed, from the name, that it was a common style, but hadn’t expected to find others versed in it so soon.

Without examining them in detail, Yang Ze secured the manuals and ordered, “Load everything onto the wagons. Don’t tamper with anything for now—we have another stop to make.”

“Yes, sir!” came the reply.

Soon, the Black Tiger Hall’s treasury was emptied; every valuable item had been taken. After filling three wagons, Yang Ze and his men set off for the Poison Gate.

At the Poison Gate, with its leaders slain by Yang Ze and Old Xie, they were left to search for the treasury themselves. Fortunately, with their earlier experience, they found the underground treasury quickly; otherwise, it would have taken much longer. Lacking a key to the thick vault door, Yang Ze had brought explosives, which made short work of the obstacle—a wall they could never have breached alone.

Inside, Yang Ze found the Poison Gate’s treasury was twice the size of Black Tiger Hall’s, and its contents much the same, but in greater abundance. The silver, in particular, filled several chests, even crammed into the corners—at least ten thousand taels, enough to make Yang Ze’s eyes shine with excitement.

Only after a long while did he compose himself, taking deep breaths before instructing his men to cart everything away.

What set the Poison Gate’s treasury apart were the oddities it contained: strange bottles and jars that, when opened, released pungent fumes. Yang Ze surmised these to be the ingredients for the Poison Gate’s infamous concoctions, and, deeming them potentially useful, had them taken away as well.

But most enticing for Yang Ze were the martial arts manuals hidden here. He found “Five Venoms Divine Art,” “Venomous Palm,” “Evergreen Art,” and “Five Tigers Severing Blade.” Noting the duplication of the Evergreen Art with that found at Black Tiger Hall, Yang Ze realized that the martial techniques circulating in the martial world were limited in number, and most only allowed cultivation up to the middle stage of Qi Induction.

The Five Venoms Divine Art, however, was more advanced, permitting cultivation up to the high stage of Qi Induction. Yang Ze took all the manuals without examining them further.

After emptying the Poison Gate’s treasury, the wagons they’d brought were packed to the brim, and they set off for home. The journey back was filled with restless excitement—none could sleep, their hearts still racing from the night’s bounty.

Arriving at the bank, they saw two groups waiting outside—Meng Yitian and Wang Cheng’s men. Yang Ze smiled; this was just as he’d planned. He had instructed these two to bring the contents of their respective treasuries tonight. Now that the entirety of Xiangyun Street was under his control, it only made sense to centralize all resources—especially as he desperately needed funds.

Within the main hall of the Tongyang Bank, the place was ablaze with light. A large crowd had gathered, either Qi Induction martial artists or those who had participated in tonight’s operations.

Yang Ze took the main seat and addressed the assembly, “Everyone, please sit.”

“Thank you, Chief Steward!” Meng Yitian and the others took their seats, their eyes blazing as they stared at Yang Ze, not even attempting to hide their curiosity and excitement. Even those without seats stood on either side, their gazes fixed intently upon him.

“Don’t be anxious,” Yang Ze assured them. “I’ve already instructed Accountant Mr. Cheng to tally tonight’s gains. We’ll have the results shortly.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Mr. Cheng, the accountant, entered with the ledger in hand.

“Just in time, Mr. Cheng,” Yang Ze said. “Everyone’s waiting for your report.”

“Yes, sir!” Mr. Cheng wasted no words, flipping open the ledger and reading aloud, “After accounting, the Black Tiger Hall’s treasury contains six thousand taels of silver, the Woodcutters’ Gang eight thousand taels, the Poison Gate eleven thousand taels, and the Xiangyun Merchants’ Guild fifteen thousand taels—a total of forty thousand taels of silver!”

At these words, the entire hall fell silent; even Yang Ze’s eyes widened with astonishment. No one had expected that seizing just these few factions would yield such an immense fortune.

And this didn’t even include the value of the antiques and paintings. Once those were counted, the total would easily surpass fifty thousand taels!