Shoulder Throw

"Whoosh—"

His arm swung, and the axe cleaved through the air, landing with pinpoint precision at the center of the log.

"Crack!"

With a crisp sound, the log split apart, cleanly breaking into two halves with a smooth, even fracture.

After his strength had tripled, the grueling work that once required enormous concentration and physical effort just to barely complete—

now became as natural and fluid as breathing in Jiang Qinghe's hands.

He did it with effortless ease, even carrying the flowing beauty of drifting clouds and running water.

His movements grew faster and smoother.

His waist twisted, his arm extended, and all his strength finally gathered at the axe blade.

"Whoosh! Crack!"

"Whoosh! Crack!"

"Whoosh! Crack!"

The split firewood rolled off to one side as though precisely guided, rapidly piling into a new little mound.

His efficiency was several times greater than usual!

This astonishing sight fell into the eyes of the other servants working in the rear courtyard.

"Is that kid made of iron? He hasn't rested all morning. Did Steward Qiu drive him mad yesterday?"

Not far away, two servants huddled together and whispered.

"Shh, keep it down!"

The older servant looked around, sympathy in his eyes.

"Didn't you hear what Steward Qiu said before leaving yesterday? He added a hundred more to his quota! A whole hundred! With that scrawny body of his... if he can't finish today, he'll probably get another savage beating."

Jiang Qinghe turned a deaf ear to their discussion, as though he were in another world.

All his focus was immersed in every swing of the axe, immersed in the endlessly surging cycle of strength within his body.

As he circulated the cultivation formula of the Wood Splitting Skill, every rise and fall of the axe let him clearly feel the changes in his body.

Every inch of muscle gave off delighted tremors, and even his strength was gradually increasing by imperceptible degrees. The marvelous sensation made him unable to stop.

Although the words [Wood Splitting Skill (Minor Accomplishment - 0/2)] on the panel had not changed for the moment.

With every swing of the axe, he could feel that the progress bar seemed to inch forward, edging from 0 toward 1.

"Can the system... record other skills too?"

As he chopped wood, his thoughts raced.

Hauling water? Lighting fires? Washing dishes?

He had performed these menial tasks, repeated day after day in the tavern, countless times as well. He was so practiced that he could do them with his eyes closed.

But why was the panel still completely blank, with only the Wood Splitting Skill listed there?

"Could it be... that the Wood Splitting Skill is the minimum-level technique acknowledged by the system? The other chores I repeat every day likewise consume physical strength and energy, but in essence they are merely manual labor, not enough for the system to recognize as techniques at all?"

Jiang Qinghe even suspected that this Wood Splitting Skill was the golden finger he had received upon transmigrating.

As he pondered, Steward Qiu San's impatient shout rang out from the distance.

"What are you all standing around for?! Are your eyes growing on the backs of your heads? Gather up! Collect your wages!"

Hearing this, Jiang Qinghe stopped, drew a deep breath, and slowly suppressed his churning blood and qi.

He straightened his short work clothes, drenched in sweat and clinging to his body, then strode steadily toward the center of the rear courtyard.

There, the servants had already formed a crooked, uneven line.

Each craned his neck, staring eagerly at the heavy money pouch in Qiu San's hand.

Qiu San untied the hemp cord around the pouch. Each time he called a name, he counted out several copper coins, which clinked onto the table.

His face wore the smug expression of someone enjoying the thrill of holding power over others.

"Zhang Si, 300 copper coins."

Zhang Si immediately bent forward, receiving the string of copper coins with both hands as he bobbed and bowed. "Thank you, Steward Qiu! Thank you, Steward Qiu!"

"Wang Liu, 300 copper coins."

Wang Liu also smiled ingratiatingly as he carefully accepted them.

One servant after another stepped forward, their faces piled with fawning smiles, afraid of offending the steward who controlled their livelihoods.

At last, it was Jiang Qinghe's turn at the very end of the line.

Qiu San's lips curled, and a trace of mockery flashed through his tiny eyes, squeezed into slits by the fat on his face.

"Jiang—Qing—he."

He deliberately drew out each syllable.

"Dock 200 copper coins from this month's wages for cutting corners."

As he spoke, he casually tossed 100 copper coins at Jiang Qinghe's feet, spat, and sneered.

"Take it, good-for-nothing! A reward for you. Spend it sparingly!"

The entire rear courtyard fell silent, and every servant's gaze focused on Jiang Qinghe.

Some were sympathetic, some relished his misfortune, but most were coldly indifferent.

Protecting oneself wisely was the instinct that kept the servants alive.

Jiang Qinghe swept his gaze over the scattered copper coins on the ground. A cold glint flashed through his eyes as he looked at Qiu San's greasy face.

"Steward Qiu, this is inappropriate. You say I cut corners, so let me ask: exactly where did I skimp on work, and where did I cut corners?"

Jiang Qinghe's voice was not loud, yet it was exceptionally clear.

"I arrive first every day and leave last every day. I do no less work than anyone else. What right do you have to withhold my wages?"

The surrounding servants looked at one another upon hearing Jiang Qinghe's words, then unconsciously stepped back several paces, afraid of getting dragged into it.

Their eyes were full of disbelief. How had this youth, who usually endured everything in silence, suddenly become like a different person today?

Qiu San froze, the flesh on his face twitching slightly.

This brat had always been diligent and obedient, meek and submissive.

Why had he suddenly grown a spine today, daring to contradict him in public?

Then, as though he felt he had lost face before everyone, Qiu San's expression darkened at once. Rage surged in his heart, and a vicious light filled his eyes.

"What right? Because you're a good-for-nothing!"

Qiu San gave a savage grin, stepped forward, and reached out with his short, thick fingers to grab Jiang Qinghe by the collar.

"Not convinced? Looking for a beating, are you?!"

The instant those fingers were about to touch his collar, Jiang Qinghe suddenly moved.

His right hand shot out like lightning, clamping around Qiu San's wrist like iron tongs. At the same time, his waist exploded with force, and his body turned with the motion.

"You—" Qiu San had not even gotten his angry shout out before the world spun around him.

"Bang!"

The muffled impact made the ground tremble faintly.

Before everyone's horrified eyes, the fat Qiu San was thrown over Jiang Qinghe's shoulder and slammed heavily onto the ground by the lean youth.

That throw carried tremendous force.

"Ah—"

A pig-slaughtering scream rang through the rear courtyard.

Like an overturned turtle, Qiu San's limbs twitched comically as painful groans escaped him.

The entire rear courtyard instantly became silent as a grave. The surrounding servants stared wide-eyed, unable to believe what they were seeing.

The two shop attendants following Qiu San also stood frozen in place, their faces full of shock and confusion.

"You two... what, what are you standing around for? Beat him for me!"

Qiu San lifted his head and let out a slurred roar.

The two shop attendants cracked their knuckles and were about to step forward when a sharp rebuke sounded.

"All of you, stop! Look at yourselves—what kind of disgrace is this?!"

Everyone's hearts clenched as they turned toward the voice. The tavernkeeper Zhang Deqing was walking into the rear courtyard with a Middle-aged Man.

A thick-backed curved saber hung at the man's waist. His build was lean and capable, while a scar slashed diagonally across the left side of his face, adding several degrees of fierce balefulness.

At that moment, he was sizing up the scene before him with interest, the corner of his lips raised as though watching a joke.

"What happened?"

Zhang Deqing's brows knotted together. Having lost face before the scar-faced man, he spoke with suppressed anger in his voice.

"Tavernkeeper, Qiu San withheld 200 copper coins of my wages today without cause!" Jiang Qinghe's voice remained low, clear, and steady—neither servile nor overbearing.

Zhang Deqing's gaze swept between Qiu San's bedraggled state and Jiang Qinghe's calm face. Weighing the pros and cons, and afraid of displeasing the honored guest, he waved a hand.

"Pay him his wages!"

"Yes, Tavernkeeper."

Qiu San scrambled to his feet in humiliation, his face alternating between green and white. He felt as though everyone around him was secretly laughing at him.

Gritting his teeth, he counted out 300 copper coins and slapped them into Jiang Qinghe's outstretched palm.

Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"Jiang the Good-for-Nothing, I... I've given you the money. But remember this: some money you may have the life to take, but not necessarily the life to spend. Just wait and see!"

After throwing out his threat, Qiu San felt too humiliated to remain. Unable to face the crowd, he turned and slunk away.

Tavernkeeper Zhang Deqing immediately put on a fawning smile and repeatedly cupped his hands toward the scar-faced man.

"Hall Master Li, my apologies for letting you witness this. They're merely a few blind servants who don't understand the rules and disturbed your mood..."

The scar-faced man, Li Mu, casually waved a hand.

"Your household affairs have nothing to do with me. I merely remind you, Tavernkeeper, that the fine wine in your establishment must be properly prepared these days, and its quality must be excellent."

He paused, gave a low snort, and added,

"If our Boss Tu does not drink to his satisfaction... the consequences are not something your little tavern can bear!"

"Of course, of course!" Zhang Deqing hurriedly cupped his hands, bending even lower. "Such an important matter must not be delayed. I will make certain everything is properly prepared and guarantee your satisfaction!"

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the servants still standing there dumbly. Irritably, he waved a hand and snapped,

"What are you standing there for? The wages have all been handed out. Go on, go on—get back to whatever you should be doing."

The crowd immediately dispersed.

Returning to the woodpile, Jiang Qinghe gripped the 300 copper coins in his hand and calculated in secret.

He was only one final step away from the twenty taels of silver required to enter Wanping Martial Academy!

After enduring a while longer, the great door leading to the martial path would open to him.