From the Chaos to the Tomb Robbery

Chapter 307 Mysterious Training Ground

The next day

You'an's decision to leave left everyone in low spirits after waking up. The usually noisy Qilin Courtyard was quiet, with everyone going about their own business.

The young man sat on the steps in the courtyard, holding his black and gold ancient sword, silently sharpening it with a whetstone in his hand.

"Crack..."

His calm face carried an indifference, and his knife-sharpening movements were like those of a ruthless robot.

But Hei Xiazi, who knew him well, saw a dense, dark killing intent in his clear, cold eyes.

Thinking back to yesterday's trip to that mysterious training ground, the mute man didn't bring his black gold ancient sword, which symbolized his status and position; he simply fought those people with his bare hands.

Today, contrary to his usual self, he got up early with his knife and, unusually for the first time, began sharpening this already heavy and sharp black gold ancient sword.

"Hiss~" Hei Xiazi couldn't help but gasp for those who didn't play yesterday. He wondered how many blows they could withstand before being killed by Zhang the Mute, who had recovered to his peak condition and whose skills had even improved.

Thinking about the good show he would see at the mysterious training ground later, Hei Xiazi leaned against a pillar under the eaves of the courtyard, crossed his arms, and couldn't help but click his tongue a few times.

Mo Jiu, who was squatting on the threshold of the living room entrance, also sensed that something was wrong with her brother and poked Zhang Qiling's leg who was standing next to her.

She wanted to say something, but a faint discomfort came from her lips, and Mo Jiu stopped herself, somewhat displeased.

Zhang Qiling looked down at the top of Mo Jiu's head, "I'll take you with me later."

Mo Jiu's eyes lit up instantly, but remembering Zhang Qiling's excessive behavior last night, he nodded reservedly, but refrained from looking up at Zhang Qiling.

Hei Xiazi glanced at the two of them, stole a look at Mo Jiu's lips, and then secretly looked at the suspicious red glimpse peeking out from under Zhang Qiling's collar.

He wanted to whistle, but he was afraid of getting beaten up, so he could only hold back and sneak a few more glances.

It's a pity his child isn't here, otherwise this would definitely be something he'd love to see.

I wonder how he is now, whether he's hungry or cold.

The young man spent two hours sharpening the knife. The already sharp black gold ancient knife looked so sharp that just looking at it gave one the feeling of being cut by the blade.

"Let's go!" The young man sheathed the black gold ancient sword, stood up, and walked to Zhang Qiling.

Zhang Qiling looked at the young man's face, another version of herself, with eyes that were exactly the same as her own, carrying a sense of vicissitude and indifference that she herself lacked.

“I can take you to him,” Zhang Qiling said.

Upon hearing these words, the young man gripped the knife handle tightly with his right hand, which was hanging at his waist.

After a moment of silence, the young man slowly shook his head.

"He won't be truly happy." Even without the memory, the hurt etched into his soul will create a distance between him and them.

Zhang Qiling didn't say anything more. He reached out and pulled up Mo Jiu, who was arguing with him. He made a hand seal with his fingertips, and instantly everyone in the courtyard disappeared from their spot.

-

In a mysterious underground training ground in a corner of the deep mountains, three groups of people gathered.

One side, dressed in black uniforms with dragon tattoos on their left arms, stood around the training ground, encircling the other two sides in the middle.

Each of them was equipped with superior firearms, some even carrying small rocket launchers on their shoulders. Their eyes were as deep as a cold pool, devoid of any ripples, possessing only a cold, sharp edge that was almost hard and unyielding; a single glance from them was enough to deter anyone from looking directly at them. Their shoulders were broad and straight, their backs as straight as gun barrels, standing there like a block of cold iron, exuding an imposing aura even when still.

He exudes a stern and disciplined aura, commanding respect without anger, and every move he makes is imposing and measured.

The remaining two groups were clearly different, with all sorts of clothing and appearances. Some dressed like successful business people, some in casual clothes, some like thugs... and some even wore pajamas or were half-naked...

The two groups each stood at one end, staring at each other with fierce expressions and a murderous aura. Some of them had bruises on their faces, and if it weren't for the black-uniformed men from the first group restraining them, they probably would have rushed forward and fought to the death.

Just then, a large group of people were driven onto the training ground by men in black uniforms who held guns to their heads.

Their appearance caused some people on the field to sniff the air, and a familiar earthy smell wafted over, causing them to frown instantly.