Buying a Courtyard

As he stepped out through the Martial Arts Hall's gates, he happened to see Lin Yue boarding a luxurious carriage. Its ebony cabin was inlaid with silver patterns, and two fine horses pulled it. Even the driver wore a smart silk outfit—clearly the display of a wealthy household.

As the carriage set off, faint laughter and conversation drifted from inside. Some great lineage had probably invited him to another banquet.

"Senior Brother Lin really is fortunate. All the prominent families in town fawn over him," a passing servant murmured nearby, his voice full of envy.

Yang Jing looked up at the departing carriage, then withdrew his gaze and headed toward Datong Ward with light steps.

The evening breeze brushed his cheeks, carrying the warmth of everyday life. Thinking of the bag of gold, silver, and aged ginseng beneath his bed, he felt thoroughly at ease.

Lin Yue's path was paved with flowers and brocade; his own was trodden through dirt and sweat. Different as they were, both were paths they had walked one step at a time.

As for other people's adulation and envy, those had never figured in his desires.

Night deepened as Yang Jing walked back to Datong Ward, the stone paving beneath his feet glowing pale in the moonlight.

When he reached the courtyard entrance, he faintly heard the other tenants talking inside, and an idea suddenly stirred in his mind.

Sharing a rental was cheap, but it came with inconveniences.

Practicing his fists at night might disturb the others, and with valuables hidden beneath his bed, he had to remain constantly vigilant.

Besides, he planned to try practicing the Surging Wave Leg technique he had just obtained. His cramped room simply did not offer enough space.

Yang Jing touched the silver tucked inside his robe. Thinking of the gold, silver, and valuables beneath his bed, he slowed his steps.

Now that he had money to spare, perhaps he should find a small courtyard of his own.

Ideally, it would be closer to the Martial Arts Hall. For one thing, practicing would be more convenient, and he would not waste so much time traveling every day. For another, if he truly encountered danger, he could reach the hall quickly and gain some measure of protection.

Yang Jing began considering buying a courtyard.

With his finances more comfortable now, he could afford a better place, one that would also make his training easier.

He thought it over. The courtyard did not need to be large—a Main Hall, a side room, a kitchen, and a small yard would suffice.

As for the price, it would only be a few dozen taels of silver at most. With his current wealth, he could easily afford it.

There was no rush to find one. Yang Jing knew of property agents much like the real estate brokers of his previous life. Alternatively, he could ask Fourth Senior Brother tomorrow. His senior brother knew the town well and might be able to find something suitable.

With a plan in mind, his steps grew lighter.

With a courtyard of his own, practicing martial arts and storing his belongings would both be easier.

Entering the courtyard, Yang Jing returned to his room, blew the oil lamp into flame, and took the Surging Wave Leg manual from beneath his bed.

The booklet's cover was rough, its pages yellowed with age. It opened with a line of large characters: "Leg techniques take agility as their foundation and speed as their edge, surging like waves in an unbroken tide."

Yang Jing turned through the pages, growing more astonished the further he read.

Like Mountain Collapse Fist, this leg technique had a complete path of cultivation and advancement. From bright strength to hidden strength, and then to the legendary transforming strength, each realm had detailed training instructions.

The difference was that Mountain Collapse Fist was renowned for its ferocity. Wherever its fists struck, nothing could withstand them.

Surging Wave Leg placed greater emphasis on agility, following the principle that "steps change with the body, and kicks arise from the steps." At higher levels, its movements were like a startled swan flashing past, far faster than those of ordinary people, though its raw attacking power fell well short of Mountain Collapse Fist.

"So it's a supplementary technique."

Yang Jing murmured to himself.

Previously, he had only skimmed the little Surging Wave Leg booklet. Reading it closely now left him both astonished and delighted.

Mountain Collapse Fist focused on offense, while Surging Wave Leg emphasized speed. If he could combine them, balancing hardness with softness, his strength would surely increase greatly.

Unable to restrain himself, Yang Jing rose, moved to the center of the room, and began following the illustrated movements.

He had barely taken half a step into the Wave-Treading Form before his toes nearly struck a table leg.

The River-Churning Form required him to spin and sweep his leg, but his lower back collided with the bed frame.

The room was cramped to begin with. He could not extend his legs properly, and even the most basic footwork became a stumbling affair.

"As I thought, I really do need a courtyard."

Yang Jing stopped, his brow tightly furrowed.

The idea that had occurred to him on his way home now felt all the more pressing.

Without a spacious training area, he could not properly practice Surging Wave Leg at all.

He carefully put the booklet away, tidied up, and practiced Mountain Collapse Fist for another two hours. Then he blew out the oil lamp and lay down on his bed, but felt no trace of sleepiness.

I need to find a property agent as soon as possible and get a separate house with a courtyard. Only with room to train can I truly put this leg technique to use.

Moonlight slipped through the gaps in the window, illuminating the anticipation in his eyes.

The ferocity of Mountain Collapse Fist and the swiftness of Surging Wave Leg complemented each other. If he faced another expert at the Bright Strength Peak like Xu Tai, he would be confident of killing him even if his opponent were uninjured.

Over the next few days, the county seat of Yuhe County gradually returned to its former calm.

The authorities sent several constables to investigate Xinghua Ward. After examining the charred ruins and asking nearby residents a few questions, they merely wrote "Accidental fire; Xu Tai unfortunately perished" in the case file and considered the matter settled.

Some people privately thought Xu Tai's death suspicious. How could a bright strength expert be trapped in a fire and burned alive?

But private muttering was one thing; no one actually dared submit a complaint to the authorities.

The Great Fortune Gang ordinarily engaged in utterly unconscionable businesses such as mutilating people for begging and lending at usurious rates. They had made far too many enemies. With Xu Tai dead, plenty of people secretly applauded. Who would stand up for him?

As time passed, talk of Xu Tai burning to death gradually faded.

New topics soon eclipsed the old news.

Some said the Righteousness Gang had seized the opportunity to swallow up the Great Fortune Gang's territory and was gathering momentum.

Some said a new restaurant had opened in the West of the City, with a chef hired from the Prefectural City whose braised pork knuckle was exquisite.

Some said fighting had already broken out in Caozhou, and more and more refugees were arriving from the west.

Whenever Yang Jing went to the market to buy meat, he listened to these stories in passing. He paid particular attention to the situation in Caozhou. His father and eldest uncle had both gone there with the convoy escorting grain and fodder, and no word had come back yet. He could not help worrying.

That day, the sun blazed fiercely.

After finishing his fist practice, Yang Jing rested briefly and left the Martial Arts Hall.

Following the address he had obtained beforehand, he found the Stallholder/Agent at the entrance to an alley in the West Market.

The man was lean and wiry, with a goatee. He always clutched a bunch of keys and put on a broad smile whenever he saw someone.

"Looking for a courtyard, sir?" The Stallholder/Agent sized Yang Jing up. Although plainly dressed, his gaze was steady, so the man dared not slight him. "There are plenty of empty courtyards lately. Quite a few families moved to the Prefectural City or the provincial capital recently. The prices are very reasonable."

Yang Jing nodded. "A separate property with its own entrance, close to Chengping Ward. A small courtyard will do."

"Well, isn't that a coincidence?" The Stallholder/Agent's eyes lit up as he led him east. "There's a little courtyard beside a stream on the boundary between Chengping Ward and Tongyi Ward. An old scholar used to live there, but he moved out just last month. I'll take you to see it now."

"All right," Yang Jing said.

Following the Stallholder/Agent through two streets and alleys, he soon heard the murmur of flowing water.

A row of small, gray-tiled courtyard houses stood along the stream. It was narrow but clear to the bottom, with several weeping willows planted along its banks. Their branches trailed across the water, stirring rings of ripples.

The Stallholder/Agent opened the gate of the easternmost courtyard with a creak, revealing the view inside.

The courtyard was not large, somewhat smaller than the one where he rented his lodgings, though not by much. Several paths paved with bluestone slabs crossed the yard. Old flowerpots lay piled in a corner, and morning glories climbed the walls, blooming brightly.

The Main Hall had two rooms, one for sleeping and one for receiving guests. The window paper was intact, and a bundle of dried mugwort hung beneath the eaves, giving off a faint medicinal fragrance.

The eastern side room had been converted into a woodshed, and there was a small kitchen to the west. Yang Jing went inside to look. Pots, bowls, ladles, and basins were all there.

Standing in the courtyard, Yang Jing noticed an old pagoda tree beside the wall. Its luxuriant branches and leaves could shade more than half the yard from the sun.

"Look at the location," the Stallholder/Agent said, pointing west. "Beyond that alley ahead is Chengping Ward. It's only an incense stick's walk."

He pointed at the stream outside the gate. "This is running water. It's convenient for fetching water and keeps the place cool in summer."

Yang Jing made a circuit of the courtyard, his feet treading the stone paving, and felt thoroughly at ease.

The two Main Halls were enough to live in, the courtyard offered ample space for practicing both fists and kicks, and the Martial Arts Hall was close by. It was exactly what he wanted.

Of the courtyards he had viewed over the past few days, this little place pleased him most.

"How much is it?"

The Stallholder/Agent rubbed his hands together. "To be honest, sir, in normal times, a location like this would cost at least fifty taels. But with things so unsettled, I'll give you a lower price. Thirty-five taels of silver, and the deed and furniture are all yours."

Yang Jing did not haggle. He took out his silver, counted thirty-five taels, and handed it over.

The Stallholder/Agent smiled until his eyes narrowed to slits. He hurriedly produced the deed, counted out the three keys to the courtyard gate, and handed everything to Yang Jing. "All the paperwork is in order. Check it carefully. From now on, this courtyard is yours."

Yang Jing took the deed. As his fingertips touched the rough paper, a sudden sense of security welled up within him.

From now on, this place truly belonged to him. He no longer needed to worry about inconvenient training conditions or keep everything hidden.

After offering a few more auspicious words, the Stallholder/Agent cupped his hands and took his leave.

Yang Jing shut the gate and stood alone in the courtyard. Walking beneath the old pagoda tree to enjoy its summer coolness, he could not help smiling.

After resting briefly, he took a piece of cold, cooked tiger meat from his old cloth bag and ate it in large bites.

Once he had finished the sizable chunk of tiger meat, he wandered around the courtyard again, then locked the gate and headed to the Martial Arts Hall.

The Stallholder/Agent had said it was an incense stick's walk from here to the Sun Clan Martial Arts School in Chengping Ward. But Yang Jing was a martial artist, strong and fit, and walked faster than ordinary people. From his little courtyard on the boundary between Tongyi Ward and Chengping Ward, he needed only half that time.

Buying a new courtyard had filled him with delight, and his steps were light as he walked.

Upon reaching the Martial Arts Hall, Yang Jing removed his outer garment and began practicing Mountain Collapse Fist bare-backed in the Martial Arts Hall's Front Courtyard.

Time slowly passed.

The sun gradually shifted from overhead toward the horizon.

Dusk spread slowly like ink, and the Martial Training Ground in the Martial Arts Hall's Front Courtyard gradually fell quiet.

After putting away the equipment, the servants left one after another with brooms over their shoulders. In the spacious grounds, only Yang Jing's figure remained in motion.

He sank his waist into a horse stance, unfolding the forms of Mountain Collapse Fist in the gathering dusk.

The forceful gusts stirred by his fists churned the deepening night. Every punch landed with a heavy whoosh, especially distinct in the empty courtyard.

Sweat had long since covered his body. It dripped from his chin and struck the ground, spreading into small dark patches that the breeze soon dried.

Even after darkness had fully fallen, he continued practicing.

Previously, he had lacked the necessary resources. Now, with an ample supply of fierce beast meat and abundant nourishment, he was willing to devote every ounce of his energy to the Martial Path, striving to push his improvement to the limit every day.

Moreover, through the System Panel, he could clearly see his progress. That made him all the more absorbed in this visible improvement, allowing him to forget the hardship and pain of training.

Moonlight climbed the wall, stretching his shadow long. It intertwined with the shadows of his fists until fist and shadow could no longer be distinguished.

"Heh."

A soft sound came from behind him.

Yang Jing withdrew his fists and turned. His master, Sun Yong, had emerged from the Inner Courtyard at some point and was standing beneath the covered walkway, watching him.

Sun Yong wore a plain long robe and stroked his beard. His gaze lingered on Yang Jing for a moment, seemingly moved, but he soon shook his head.

Yang Jing hurriedly bowed. "Master."

Sun Yong gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment and nodded. Walking over, he glanced at Yang Jing's reddened fists, then at the footprints of varying depths on the ground.

These were the marks Yang Jing had left while practicing, densely covering almost the entire surrounding area.

Sun Yong was indeed somewhat moved. For more than half a year, he had observed every disciple's training, and no one in the Martial Arts Hall could match the diligence of the disciple before him.

But in the end... Sun Yong sighed inwardly and shook his head slightly.

On the path of martial training, diligence was certainly important, but root bone was even more crucial.

Yang Jing's root bone could only be considered inferior, and was utterly mediocre even among inferior grades. His breakthrough to bright strength had already been extraordinarily fortunate. Breaking through to hidden strength would be as difficult as ascending to heaven. This was as far as he would go in this lifetime.

A disciple like this had diligence to spare but insufficient potential. He simply was not worth teaching everything Sun Yong knew.

By contrast, Lin Yue possessed superior root bone and exceptional comprehension. He had broken through to hidden strength after less than half a year of training, and even had a strong chance of reaching transforming strength in the future. Only a genius like that could uphold the Martial Arts Hall's future.

"Your fists have ferocity to spare, but lack fluidity."

Sun Yong gathered his thoughts and offered a casual pointer. "Bright strength emphasizes explosive power, but you must also understand how to gather momentum. It's like drawing a bow: draw back before releasing, and the force will be greater. You threw that Split Stone punch too hastily just now, wasting thirty percent of its power."

Yang Jing felt a jolt at his words. He carefully pondered "gather momentum," finding it more reasonable the longer he thought about it. He hurriedly nodded. "Thank you for your guidance, Master!"

Sun Yong waved a hand and said nothing more, turning toward the Inner Courtyard.

As he passed through the Moon Gate, he glanced back at Yang Jing, who was still contemplating the principles of his fist technique. In the end, he sighed and thought, Such diligence. What a pity.

Yang Jing did not notice the complicated look in his master Sun Yong's eyes. He was repeatedly practicing the Mountain-Splitting Form from earlier, trying to slow the rhythm of his punches. Sure enough, he felt the bright strength within his body gathering more solidly.