The Righteousness Gang's Thoughts

Yang An chuckled good-naturedly, then pulled a smooth wooden plaque from his chest and handed it to Yang Jing. "I was chopping wood a while back and saw this piece was sturdy, so I carved you a little something. Take a look."

Yang Jing took the wooden plaque. It felt smooth and warm to the touch. A simple character, "Jing," was carved onto it. Though the strokes were rough, it was clear effort had been put into it.

"Thanks, Brother An," Yang Jing said.

Yang Jing put the plaque away and looked at Yang An's increasingly robust physique. "You've been Tempering Qi and Blood consistently lately, haven't you?"

Yang An nodded. "I practice for an hour every morning and evening. If my arms get sore, I rest for a bit, and when I'm rested, I lift rocks again."

Yang Jing nodded. A thought struck him, and he pulled Yang An to the courtyard. "Come on, Brother An, show me your kicks."

Yang An didn't hesitate. He planted his feet firmly and suddenly lifted his knee, kicking into the air.

His movements were forceful, but his body swayed slightly, clearly indicating his waist and legs weren't synchronized.

Yang An seemed to notice it himself. He frowned and kicked again, but the same problem persisted.

"Sink your waist, rotate your hips," Yang Jing said sternly.

Yang An nodded forcefully, then paused for a moment, looking up with a troubled expression. "Brother Jing, what do you mean by 'sink your waist'?"

Yang Jing suddenly realized. He'd forgotten that his cousin, Yang An, was a complete novice, unlike himself who had been taught martial arts systematically at a martial arts school.

Yang Jing then stood opposite Yang An and demonstrated slowly. "Brother An, watch carefully. The power starts from your feet and flows through your leg. Your waist has to turn like an axle; it's not just about using your leg strength."

Yang An stared intently at Yang Jing's movements, his eyes focused, silently committing them to memory. He tried a few more times.

Although still clumsy, his stance was steadier than before.

He didn't speak, just practiced repeatedly. Sweat soon beaded on his forehead, but he didn't stop.

Watching his determined spirit, Yang Jing's mind drifted to the Surging Wave Leg manual.

His cousin Yang An had a steady temperament and often went to the mountains to chop wood, making him quite suitable for practicing this agile leg technique.

However, the origins of this Surging Wave Leg were unknown. If it harbored hidden dangers, or was a secret family martial art of some powerful clan, involving certain factions, teaching it rashly to Yang An might actually be detrimental to him.

"These are basic waist and leg exercises. Brother An, practice these for now," Yang Jing said, snapping out of his thoughts. He then taught him a few breathing techniques. "Practice for half an hour every day and focus on improving your waist and leg coordination first."

Yang An nodded in agreement, asking no further questions. He just continued kicking. As he practiced longer, he did indeed become slightly steadier than before.

Yang Jing stood with his arms crossed, watching Yang An practice his kicks, occasionally offering pointers.

The gentle voices of his aunt and mother could be heard from the kitchen, mingling with the crackling of firewood, creating a warm atmosphere.

Yang Jing looked at his cousin's back as he practiced diligently and silently. He considered that once he figured out the details of the Surging Wave Leg and confirmed there were no risks, it would be a good time to teach it to Yang An.

There was also another option: having Yang An formally enroll in a martial arts school for systematic training.

But the path of martial arts was a money pit; Yang Jing knew this from personal experience.

He could afford Yang An's tuition fees. The enrollment fees at the major martial arts schools in Yuhe County were generally between three to five taels of silver per month, and Yang Jing could afford that.

However, the enrollment fee was just the beginning. There would be various other expenses afterward, including nutritional supplements, medicinal supplements, and further apprenticeship fees.

Yang Jing could afford the simple enrollment fees, but all these costs added up to a significant sum. Crucially, Yang Jing himself needed a large amount of money for his own martial arts training.

Although he seemed to have a considerable amount of money on hand now, it wouldn't last too long.

Therefore, the thought of funding Yang An's martial arts training flashed through his mind and was quickly dismissed.

Both for public and private reasons, his own martial arts training was the priority.

He just needed a little more time, and then he could break through to Hidden Strength. Once he did, it would be a completely different world.

At the very least, after breaking through to Hidden Strength, it would be easier to obtain more silver through official positions or other channels. By then, he might have enough money to support Yang An's martial arts training as well.

Moreover, Yang Jing felt that once he broke through to Hidden Strength, he could teach Yang An martial arts himself.

A master of Hidden Strength was no small matter in the entirety of Yuhe County. Furthermore, his future wouldn't stop at Hidden Strength.

While teaching Yang An, Yang Jing didn't neglect his own training. He practiced the Surging Wave Leg, and its elusive, agile movements captivated Yang An.

Time flowed by slowly.

A chicken aroma wafted through the courtyard.

Yang Jing ate tiger meat and bear meat; while these fierce beast meats were expensive and highly nutritious, they couldn't necessarily compare to the taste of their own free-range chicken.

At noon, a square table was set up in the courtyard. A large basin of stewed chicken sat on it, its broth milky white and fragrant, sprinkled with chopped scallions. The aroma filled the courtyard.

The family sat around the table.

Yang Jing and Yang An, the younger generation, sat on either side of their grandfather.

Old Master Yang picked up his chopsticks, took a chicken leg from the basin, and placed it in Yang Jing's bowl. He paused, then put down his chopsticks, picked up a spoon, and scooped two spoonfuls of soup for Yang An beside him. "Little An, you eat too."

Yang Jing's mouth twitched slightly.

It was only because his cousin, Yang An, was honest and simple-minded. If it were someone else being treated so differently by the old man, they would have been furious. And this was, after all, the free-range chicken raised by their aunt.

"Jing'er, eat quickly. Replenish your body," Grandmother Madam Qin said, looking at Yang Jing with affection in her eyes. She picked up a piece of chicken skin and slowly savored it.

His mother and aunt, Madam Xue, were the same. Their chopsticks mostly moved over the vegetable dishes, and when they occasionally picked up a piece of chicken, they sent it to the children's bowls.

Yang Jing saw this and felt a pang in his heart.

He knew his family's habit of always wanting to save the best for him; trying to dissuade them was useless, so he didn't say much. He simply used his chopsticks to pick up some meat for Yang An a few times. "Brother, you eat more too. Tempering your strength requires more nutritional replenishment."

Yang An continued to eat, his mouth full, and mumbled, "Mm, thanks, Jing."

Halfway through the meal, his grandfather, Old Master Yang, put down his chopsticks, lit a pipe of dry tobacco, and slowly said, "Jing'er, haven't you met any suitable girls in the city?"

Yang Jing was taken aback and shook his head. "No, Grandpa. I practice at the martial arts school every day and don't have time to think about such things."

"It's time you did." His grandfather tapped his pipe, his eyes somewhat dim. "Your father and your uncle have been gone to the Caozhou front lines delivering grain for over half a year with no news. I hear there's already fighting there, and it's not peaceful. Our family needs to continue the lineage sooner rather than later."

His mother, Liu Cuiling, her eyes red upon hearing her father-in-law's words, said nothing but added another piece of meat to Yang Jing's bowl with her chopsticks.

His aunt also said softly, "Jing'er is seventeen this year, right? He's not young anymore. Several people in the village got married at this age. Jing'er, if you meet a suitable, well-behaved girl in the city, keep an eye out. The family can help with the arrangements."

Yang Jing felt heavy-hearted. He wasn't entirely against getting married and having children to continue the family line. Since he had come to this world, he had to slowly integrate into it.

Moreover, since he had taken over the original body, he naturally had to bear the karmic consequences of continuing the lineage for him.

What truly weighed on Yang Jing's mind was the matter of his father and uncle. They had gone to the Caozhou front lines to deliver grain to earn money. For over half a year, he had been worried about this, but he couldn't help.

Taking a shallow breath, Yang Jing didn't want to dwell on this topic, or else everyone would lose their appetite and start crying.

He looked at Yang An, who was eating with his head down, and smiled. "I'm not in a hurry. Brother An, you should find a sister-in-law first. You guys can worry about Brother An's matters."

Yang An, who had been minding his own business and focusing on eating, suddenly looked up when Yang Jing deftly changed the subject. His face turned red, and he almost spat out the food in his mouth. He mumbled, "I... I'm not in a hurry."

Everyone was amused.

His aunt, Madam Xue, patted Yang An's arm. "You're not in a hurry, but I am. After the autumn harvest, I'll ask someone to keep an eye out for you."

His grandfather also smiled and shook his head, placing his pipe on the table. His gaze swept over Yang Jing and Yang An. "Both of you need to keep an eye out. You two brothers should get married soon, and your grandmother and I can rest easy."

The old master's gaze was more focused on Yang Jing.

Yang An would most likely remain a farmer. The real hope for the Yang family's rise lay with Yang Jing.

Starting from Yang Jing's generation, the descendants of the Yang family could escape the fate of being farmers and become people of another class.

Old Master Yang pinned all his hopes of changing the family's destiny on Yang Jing, and naturally, he hoped Yang Jing would marry and have children as soon as possible.

Listening to his elders' discussion, Yang Jing no longer refused and simply nodded.

After lunch, Yang Jing helped clean up the dishes, taught his cousin martial arts for a while, and then chatted with his family. Feeling that the time was about right, he got up and said, "Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, Mother, I have to go back. I can't neglect my studies at the martial arts school."

His grandmother, Madam Qin, held his hand, reluctant to let go. "Aren't you staying another night? I wanted to steam some osmanthus cakes for you later."

"No, Grandma," Yang Jing said, smiling and patting her hand. "When I'm less busy, I'll come back to see you."

His mother put some dried herbs in his bag. "These are for bruises and sprains. Be careful when you practice martial arts; don't always fight head-on."

Yang Jing didn't lack these herbs, but he accepted them anyway.

Yang An stood aside and said softly, "Jing, I will definitely practice the leg techniques you taught me well."

"Mm, practice with your heart," Yang Jing said, patting his shoulder.

He didn't mention buying a courtyard in the city to his family, only thinking that once he broke through to Hidden Strength and established himself firmly in Tongyi Ward and even the city, he would tell them in detail.

At that time, perhaps he could invite his grandfather, grandmother, and mother to live in the city for a while.

His cousin Yang An could also go with them, and he would personally teach him martial arts.

These thoughts only swirled in his mind. To put them into practice, it would take at least until he broke through to Hidden Strength.

However, Yang Jing was confident that this day would not be far off. The bottlenecks that trapped other martial artists for long periods did not exist for him!

After bidding farewell to his family, Yang Jing quickly left Yang Family Village, exchanging a few words with the villagers he met along the way.

At this moment, the thought that flashed through Yang Jing's mind when he first transmigrated surfaced—"Don't fail spectacularly!"

At that time, countless pairs of eyes in the village were watching, ready to witness the joke he and his family would become.

It wasn't that these villagers were bad, but they didn't approve of Yang Jing practicing martial arts. These villagers, who had been farmers for generations, always believed that farmers were meant to be farmers, generation after generation. Anyone who tried to break this pattern would suffer great misfortune and fall hard.

At that time, many people were waiting to see Yang Jing return from the city in disgrace.

And now, he had finally done it, transforming from an ordinary person into an Entering Strength martial artist, thus avoiding a spectacular failure.

Thinking of this, Yang Jing felt a sense of lightness and strode out of Yang Family Village, heading east.

As soon as he reached the official road, he saw dust flying in the distance. A group of ragged refugees was slowly moving along the roadside, all gaunt and sallow-faced. Some carried dying children on their backs, humming tuneless laments.

"They're fleeing from Caozhou."

A passing peddler whispered, "I heard there's fighting there. The government is conscripting people, and the fields are lying fallow."

Yang Jing's heart sank.

His father and uncle were delivering grain to Caozhou. After more than half a year with no news, in this chaotic world of constant warfare and surging refugees, how could their safety not be a cause for concern?

He stopped, looking at the streams of refugees, and clenched his fists. His steps quickened.

The more chaotic the times, the stronger one's fists must be!

Only by becoming stronger, and becoming stronger quickly, could he protect those he wanted to protect in these turbulent years!

A little over an hour later, the city walls of Yuhe County were in sight.

Yang Jing looked up at the towering city gate, took a deep breath, and quickened his pace, merging into the flow of people entering the city.

The refugees behind him continued to pour in, like a black tide.

Yang Jing entered the city and continued without stopping, heading straight for Tongyi Ward along Vermilion Bird Street.

Both Chengping Ward and Tongyi Ward were deep within the outer city, close to the inner city walls. Compared to other wards, the imperial court's defenses were stronger, and security was higher.

To get from the city gate to Tongyi Ward, one had to pass through several wards, including Guang'an Ward.

As soon as Yang Jing stepped into Guang'an Ward's territory, he saw a crowd of burly men gathered at the street entrance. Each had a saber at his waist, and they were moving through the alleys with unfriendly expressions.

Yang Jing paused slightly, overhearing two peddlers carrying burdens nearby whispering:

"These must be people from the Righteousness Gang, right? They've been coming every few days for a while now, turning the ruins of the old Great Fortune Gang upside down. I wonder what they're looking for."

"Who knows? These gangs are all so chaotic. Better to stay away and not get involved."

"I have a cousin in the Four Seas Gang. He heard that the Great Fortune Gang had been hanging around the Yong'an Ward area for years and must have hidden a lot of valuables. Now that the Righteousness Gang won, they naturally want to get their hands on some."

Yang Jing's heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously slowed his pace.

Gold, silver, old ginseng, and Surging Wave Leg. The wealth he had seized from Xu Tai and Scarface Li was precisely the Great Fortune Gang's most valuable assets!

It made no sense for the Righteousness Gang to have gone to such lengths to defeat the Great Fortune Gang without coveting these items.

He subtly moved towards the edge of the crowd, his peripheral vision scanning the Righteousness Gang members. Their leader was a one-eyed man, who was kicking open the door of a dilapidated house, cursing loudly. He looked quite agitated.