At a deserted street corner, familiar stall, familiar seat, Yang Ling twisted his neck and sat down.
"One catty of wontons, please!"
"Alright, sir, please wait a moment."
The vendor, with a long beard and felt hat, bowed and got busy.
It was still dark, and there were almost no passersby nearby.
Yang Ling was the first customer at this snack stall.
Soon, the wontons were ready, and the vendor hurriedly brought them over to Yang Ling with both hands.
As he moved, the vendor's thumb inevitably touched the soup in the bowl.
But street stalls don't have that many rules; as long as it's clean and hygienic, it's fine.
Yang Ling naturally didn't care; he had been performing at the gambling den all night and was now famished.
Ignoring the heat, he eagerly shoved two wontons into his mouth.
"Oh, oh, oh—"
"So hot!"
But more than that, it was satisfying.
This is the taste... no!
Did they add some other seasoning today?
Why is there an overwhelmingly sweet and delicious taste compared to before?!
Martial Artists have sharp senses; their perception in all aspects is greatly enhanced, naturally including smell and taste.
He comes to this wonton stall about every two or three days.
Whether it's performing at the gambling den all night or listening to music at the brothel all night, coming here for a bowl of wontons in the morning has become Yang Ling's habit.
So, if the taste was slightly off, he could immediately detect it.
Perhaps sensing Yang Ling's confusion, the vendor quickly leaned closer.
"Sir, what's wrong?"
Yang Ling subconsciously frowned and said, "Your wontons, today, why... Ugh!?"
He never expected that the vendor would suddenly strike, locking him from behind.
At the same time, a dark, sickly sweet-smelling palm covered his mouth.
Yang Ling was furious and shocked, immediately wanting to unleash all his strength and retaliate.
But as soon as he tried to Cultivate, his whole body went limp and weak, and his head began to spin uncontrollably.
The feeling was like listening to five women sing together in a brothel at the same time.
"Poison!"
"There's poison in the wontons, and this hand is even more poisonous!"
Yang Ling instantly realized this, but it was already too late.
With his mouth covered, he couldn't even beg for mercy, only futilely kicking his feet.
The next moment, a low, deliberately hoarse voice came from beside his ear.
"Take a deep breath; dizziness is normal!"
"Sleep..."
As soon as the words fell, Yang Ling completely lost consciousness.
After knocking out Yang Ling, the vendor quickly found Yang Ling's winnings from the gambling den last night.
Then, he left the place without any hesitation.
Only after confirming his safety did the vendor remove his disguise, throwing away the felt hat and fake beard, revealing his originally plain and handsome face.
This handsome face could rank among the best in the entire Yuan Guang County; who else could it be but Zou Feng?
He had been waiting for this opportunity and preparing for it for a long time.
Studying Yang Ling's routine and observing his various habits.
Yang Ling already preferred nighttime activities, either listening to music at the brothel or performing at the gambling den.
This provided Zou Feng with great convenience.
He only needed to sneak out of the Yang Manor in the dead of night and follow Yang Ling from a distance.
And today, the opportunity Zou Feng had been waiting for finally arrived.
Just by looking at Yang Ling's appearance when he left the gambling den, he knew Yang Ling had won money.
It was the perfect opportunity to take his gold coins.
So, he immediately went to the wonton stall first, drugged the vendor, changed his clothes, and disguised himself.
Using this method to ambush Yang Ling had naturally been planned long ago; the vendor was similar in build to him, and the fake beard was carried with him.
In fact, even without playing these underhanded tricks, Zou Feng was confident he could take down Yang Ling.
After all, Yang Ling was affected by the side effects of Five Poison Palm, and his body was already in a state of chronic poisoning.
Coupled with staying up late and gambling, he was exhausted, and his original strength probably couldn't even be seventy percent effective.
However, Zou Feng considered himself to Cultivate evil arts, destined to be an evil Cultivator, so why not play dirty?
This way, he could minimize any potential accidents.
He only wanted to safely take Yang Ling's gold coins and did not intend to kill him.
After all, he still needed Yang Ling to continue bearing the burden for him.
So, whether it was the poison he put into the wontons with his thumb or the poison he used when covering Yang Ling's mouth and nose, Zou Feng had it under control.
It would only make him faint, not die.
This ambush plan went very smoothly.
Although there was no real confrontation, Zou Feng still gained a new understanding of his own strength.
"Although it was a planned attack against an unsuspecting person, after I made my move, even though Yang Ling was a trained Martial Artist, he couldn't react at all."
"This shows that in terms of speed, I am already no less than the Yang Manor's guard Martial Artists..."
Zou Feng had occasionally seen Yang Ling spar with a guard Martial Artist.
At that time, the speed Yang Ling displayed when attacking was only slightly superior to that guard Martial Artist.
So, thinking about it this way, was he being overly cautious?
No, it's always right to be cautious!
I must always remember that I am an evil Cultivator.
An evil Cultivator should have the style of an evil Cultivator...
By the time Zou Feng returned to the woodshed, the sky was just starting to brighten.
It's worth mentioning that Zou Feng's ability to move freely and stealthily within the Yang Manor was also thanks to Cultivating Five Poison Palm.
One must know that the vicious dogs raised by the third young master Yang Yanpeng were much more useful than the guard Martial Artists in terms of guarding the gate.
So, after nightfall, the Yang Manor generally had no patrols; only these vicious dogs roamed along the courtyard walls.
But vicious dogs also fear poisonous creatures; as soon as they smelled the scent emitted from Zou Feng's palm when he Cultivated, they ran away from a distance.
This greatly facilitated Zou Feng's free movement at night.
Next, it was time for the joyous task of counting the spoils.
Yang Ling had indeed won quite a lot that night.
Twelve taels of silver in cash, plus a silver note for one hundred taels.
He struck gold!
This was indeed the correct way for an evil Cultivator to make money.
Looking back, his previous plan of accumulating money through kickbacks and profit sharing, to save up one hundred taels, who knew how long it would take.
With this money, he could finally try his luck at the Ghost Market.
But he couldn't rush.
The Ghost Market, although said to have local Gangs maintaining basic order, was ultimately very unsafe.
Therefore, to be safe, it was better to wait until Five Poison Palm advanced to the next stage and his strength climbed again before he would feel secure.
Thinking of this, while it was still early, Zou Feng once again brought out the urine pot containing poisonous liquid and began to Cultivate.
Poor Yang Ling was still in a deep coma, yet he was still being used by Zou Feng to Cultivate.
After this awakening, Yang Ling would likely suffer a serious illness.
In the morning, after Yang Ling was carried back, the Yang Family head was naturally furious.
After all, in Yuan Guang County, no one had dared to provoke their Yang Family for a long time.
Not only because their youngest daughter Yang Qianqian had outstanding talent, having just entered the ranks, with the potential to be chosen by a Sect.
But also because their eldest son Yang Zhengfei had long since entered the Martial Dao ranks and served in the Great Yan Dynasty army.
In addition, the family head himself, and one of his brothers, were also ranked Martial Artists.
It's just that these two were both old, their Qi and blood declining, no longer possessing their former bravery.
If they were to truly take action, they could at most unleash an instant burst; a prolonged battle was impossible.