The Righteousness Gang's Designs

Yang An gave an honest, good-natured smile, then took a smoothly polished wooden token from his clothes and handed it to Yang Jing. "I was cutting trees a while back and noticed this wood was sturdy, so I carved you a token. Have a look."

Yang Jing accepted the token. It felt smooth and warm in his hand, with a simple character for "Jing" carved into it. The strokes were rough, but he could tell that care had gone into them.

"Thanks, An."

Yang Jing put the token away and looked at Yang An's increasingly robust build. "You've been tempering your qi and blood all this time, haven't you?"

Yang An nodded. "I practice for two hours every morning and evening. When my arms get sore, I rest a while, then go back to lifting stones."

Yang Jing nodded, then had an idea. He pulled Yang An into the courtyard. "Come on, An. Show me your kicks."

Without another word, Yang An planted his feet firmly, then sharply raised his knee and kicked into the air.

He put plenty of force into the movement, but his body swayed. Clearly, his waist and legs weren't working together.

Yang An seemed to notice it himself. He frowned and kicked again, only to make the same mistake.

"Sink your waist and turn your hips," Yang Jing said firmly.

Yang An nodded vigorously, then froze for a moment. He looked up with an awkward expression. "Jing, what does sinking my waist mean?"

Understanding dawned on Yang Jing. He had forgotten that his older cousin was entirely self-taught, practicing wild-fox Zen rather than receiving systematic martial instruction at a martial arts hall as he had.

Yang Jing stood opposite Yang An and slowed his movements to demonstrate. "Watch carefully, An. The force starts at the soles of your feet and travels through your legs. Your waist has to turn like an axle. You can't rely on your legs alone."

Yang An watched Yang Jing's movements intently, silently committing them to memory before trying several more times.

His movements were still awkward, but steadier than before.

He said nothing, simply practicing again and again. Sweat soon beaded at his temples, but he didn't stop.

Watching his determination, Yang Jing thought of the Surging Wave Leg manual.

His older cousin had a steady temperament and often went into the mountains to chop firewood. A leg technique that emphasized agility would suit him.

But the origins of Surging Wave Leg were unknown. If it concealed some danger, or was the hereditary martial art of a powerful lineage and involved some faction, rashly teaching it to Yang An could do him harm instead.

"These are basic waist and leg exercises. Practice them for now, An." Yang Jing set those thoughts aside and taught him several ways to regulate his breathing. "Practice for an hour every day. Get your waist and legs working smoothly together first."

Yang An nodded in agreement without asking further questions and continued kicking. After practicing for a while, he really did become a little steadier.

Yang Jing folded his arms across his chest and watched Yang An practice, occasionally offering pointers.

His aunt and mother's quiet conversation drifted out of the kitchen, mingling with the crackle of firewood in a cozy warmth.

Watching his older cousin's back as he practiced with silent concentration, Yang Jing decided that he could teach Yang An Surging Wave Leg once he had thoroughly investigated its origins and confirmed it posed no danger.

There was actually another option: have Yang An join a martial arts hall and receive formal, systematic instruction in the Martial Path.

But practicing martial arts was a money-burning machine, something Yang Jing knew all too well.

He could pay Yang An's apprenticeship fees. The major martial arts halls in the Yuhe County Seat generally charged three to five taels of silver a month, which Yang Jing could afford.

But apprenticeship fees were only the beginning. There would be all sorts of expenses afterward, including nourishing foods, medicinal supplements, and further apprenticeship fees.

Yang Jing could afford the fees alone, but added together, those expenses would become a considerable sum. Most importantly, he needed large amounts of money for his own training too.

He seemed to have a fair amount of money on hand now, but in reality, it wouldn't last very long.

Thus, the idea of funding Yang An's martial training had barely surfaced before Yang Jing pushed it down.

Whether for the family's sake or his own, his training had to take priority.

He only needed a little more time to break through to hidden strength. Then a whole new world would open before him.

At the very least, once he reached hidden strength, it would become easier to earn more silver through an honorary appointment or other avenues. Perhaps then he would have enough money to support Yang An's training as well.

Besides, Yang Jing felt that once he broke through to hidden strength, he could teach Yang An himself.

A hidden strength expert was a significant figure anywhere in Yuhe County, and his own future certainly wouldn't end at hidden strength.

While teaching Yang An, Yang Jing didn't neglect his own training. He practiced Surging Wave Leg, his elusive, nimble movements filling Yang An with longing.

Time slowly passed.

The aroma of chicken began drifting through the courtyard.

Though the tiger meat, bear meat, and other fierce beast meat Yang Jing ate were expensive and highly nutritious, their flavor wasn't necessarily better than that of the family's free-range chickens.

At noon, they set up a square table in the courtyard. A large bowl of stewed chicken sat on it, its rich, milky broth dotted with chopped scallions, its fragrance filling the courtyard.

The family sat around the square table.

The two younger members, Yang Jing and Yang An, sat on either side of their grandfather.

Old Master Yang picked up his chopsticks and took a drumstick from the bowl for Yang Jing. After a moment's thought, he put down his chopsticks and ladled two spoonfuls of broth for Yang An beside him. "An, you eat too."

The corner of Yang Jing's mouth twitched.

Only his honest older cousin would still urge Yang Jing to drink more chicken broth. Anyone else treated so differently by the old man would have been furious, especially since this was a free-range chicken his aunt had raised.

"Jing, eat up. Build up your strength." His grandmother, Madam Qin, looked at him with eyes full of tender affection. She picked up a piece of chicken skin for herself, sucked on it in little mouthfuls, and chewed slowly.

His mother and his aunt, Madam Xue, were much the same. Their chopsticks mostly moved over the plate of greens, and whenever they picked up some chicken, they placed it in the boys' bowls.

Yang Jing watched, his heart aching.

He knew his family's habits. They always wanted to save the good things for him, and persuasion would do no good. He said little, merely placing meat in Yang An's bowl several times. "An, you eat more too. Building strength takes even more nourishment."

Yang An accepted it with his head lowered and his mouth stuffed full. "Mm. Thanks, Jing," he mumbled.

Halfway through the meal, Old Master Yang set down his chopsticks and smoked a pipe of tobacco before speaking leisurely. "Jing, haven't you met a girl you like in town?"

Yang Jing paused, then shook his head. "No, Grandpa. I practice at the martial arts hall every day. I don't have the mind to think about that."

"It's time you did." His grandfather tapped his pipe, his gaze somber. "Your father and your Elder Uncle went to escort provisions to the Caozhou Frontline, and we haven't heard from them in over half a year. I hear fighting has broken out there. It's unsettled. Our family ought to keep the ancestral flame burning sooner rather than later."

His mother, Liu Cuiling, reddened around the eyes at his grandfather's words, but said nothing. She simply placed another piece of meat in Yang Jing's bowl.

His aunt also spoke softly. "Jing is seventeen this year, isn't he? That's not so young anymore. Several people in the village married at that age. Jing, if you meet a suitable, decent girl in town, keep her in mind. We can help look into the match too."

Yang Jing's heart felt heavy. He wasn't particularly opposed to marrying, having children, and continuing the ancestral line. Since he had come to this world, he had to slowly become part of it.

And since he had taken over the original owner's body, he naturally had to shoulder the karmic obligation of carrying on his family line.

What truly weighed on Yang Jing was his father and Elder Uncle. To earn money, they had joined a convoy escorting provisions to the Caozhou Frontline. He had worried about them throughout these six months, yet could do nothing to help.

Taking a light breath, Yang Jing decided not to dwell on the subject. Otherwise, no one would be able to finish eating; they would all start wiping away tears.

He looked at Yang An, who was eating with his head down beside him, and smiled. "I'm in no hurry. An should find me a sister-in-law first. You can worry about his marriage before mine."

Yang An had been keeping out of the conversation and concentrating on his food. When Yang Jing diverted the floodwaters his way, he jerked his head up, his face instantly red. He nearly spat out his food. "I-I'm not in a hurry," he muttered.

Everyone laughed.

Madam Xue patted Yang An's arm. "You aren't, 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. Setting his pipe on the table, he looked between Yang Jing and Yang An. "We'll keep an eye out for both of you. Once you two settle down, your grandmother and I can stop worrying."

The old man's gaze still lingered more on Yang Jing.

Yang An would most likely remain a farmer. The Yang Family's real hope of rising lay with Yang Jing.

Starting with Yang Jing's generation, the Yang Family's descendants could escape the fate of farming and enter another social class.

Old Master Yang had placed all his hopes of changing the family's fate on Yang Jing, so naturally, he was even more eager for Yang Jing to marry and have children.

Listening to his elders discuss it, Yang Jing offered no further objections and simply nodded.

After lunch, Yang Jing helped clear away the bowls and chopsticks, taught his older cousin martial arts for a while longer, and chatted with his family. When he felt it was about time, he stood. "Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, Mother, I have to head back. I can't fall behind on my training at the martial arts hall."

His grandmother, Madam Qin, held his hand, reluctant to let go. "Won't you stay another night? I was going to steam some osmanthus cake for you later."

"Not this time, Grandma." Yang Jing smiled and patted the back of her hand. "I'll come visit again when I'm less busy."

His mother stuffed some dried herbs into his bag. "These are for bruises and injuries. Be careful when you train. Don't always push yourself so hard."

Yang Jing had no shortage of such herbs, but accepted them anyway.

Yang An stood nearby and said quietly, "Jing, I'll make sure to practice the leg techniques you taught me."

"Good. Practice diligently." Yang Jing patted his shoulder.

He didn't tell his family about buying a courtyard house in town. He planned to explain everything once he had reached hidden strength and firmly established himself in Tongyi Ward and the city.

Then perhaps he could bring his grandfather, grandmother, and mother into town to stay for a while.

His older cousin Yang An could come too, and he could teach him martial arts himself.

These thoughts merely circled in his mind for now. Putting them into practice would have to wait until he broke through to hidden strength, at the very least.

But Yang Jing was confident that day wasn't far away. The bottlenecks that trapped other martial artists for ages simply didn't exist for him!

After bidding his family farewell, Yang Jing walked briskly out of Yang Family Village, exchanging a few words with villagers young and old along the way.

At that moment, the thought he had had just after arriving in this world surfaced in his mind again-I can't let this blow up in my face!

Back then, countless pairs of eyes throughout the village had watched him, waiting to laugh at him and his family.

It wasn't that these villagers were bad people. They simply disapproved of Yang Jing practicing martial arts. Having farmed for generations, they always felt that farmers had to remain farmers, generation after generation. Anyone who tried to break out of that pattern would suffer terrible luck and take a crushing fall.

Who knew how many people had been waiting to see Yang Jing return from town with his tail between his legs?

Now, he had finally done it. He had gone from an ordinary person to a martial artist at the entering strength stage, keeping everything from blowing up in his face.

At that thought, Yang Jing's spirits lifted. He strode out of Yang Family Village and headed east.

He had just reached the main road when he saw dust rising in the distance. A group of refugees in ragged clothes shuffled slowly along the roadside, every one of them sallow and emaciated. Some carried dying children on their backs, humming tuneless laments.

"They fled from Caozhou."

A passing peddler spoke in a low voice. "I hear fighting has broken out there. The authorities are pressing able-bodied men into service, and the fields have gone fallow."

Yang Jing's heart sank.

His father and Elder Uncle had escorted provisions to Caozhou, and there had been no word from them for over half a year. In these troubled times, with warfare erupting everywhere and refugees surging like tides, how could he not be anxious about their safety?

He stopped and watched group after group of refugees, his fists clenching despite himself. Then his steps quickened.

The more chaotic the world became, the harder his fists had to be!

Only by growing stronger, as quickly as possible, could he protect those he wanted to protect in these storm-tossed years!

A little over two hours later, Yuhe County's city walls appeared before him.

Yang Jing looked up at the towering gatehouse, took a deep breath, and quickened his steps as he joined the stream of people entering the city.

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

Once inside, Yang Jing kept moving, following Vermilion Bird Street straight toward Tongyi Ward.

Chengping Ward and Tongyi Ward were both deep within the Outer City, close to the Inner City's walls. Compared with other wards, they had stronger Imperial Court defenses and were safer.

To reach Tongyi Ward from the city gate, he had to pass through several other wards, including Guang'an Ward.

As soon as Yang Jing entered Guang'an Ward, he saw many sturdy men gathered at a street corner. Each wore a saber at his waist, and they prowled through the alleys with hostile expressions.

Yang Jing briefly slowed, hearing two nearby peddlers carrying shoulder poles talking quietly.

"Those are Righteousness Gang men, aren't they? They've been coming every few days lately, turning the Great Fortune Gang's old ruins upside down. No idea what they're looking for."

"Who knows? These gangs are all a mess. Keep your distance. We don't want to get dragged into it."

"I have a cousin in the Four Seas Gang. He said the Great Fortune Gang spent years around Yong'an Ward, so they must have stashed away plenty of loot. Now that the Righteousness Gang has won, of course they want their share."

Yang Jing's heart gave a jolt, and his steps instinctively slowed.

Gold, silver, aged ginseng, Surging Wave Leg. Weren't the valuables he had taken from Xu Tai and Scarface Li the Great Fortune Gang's most valuable assets?

The Righteousness Gang had put so much effort into crushing the Great Fortune Gang. There was no reason they wouldn't have designs on those things.

Without betraying anything, he edged away from the crowd and glanced at the Righteousness Gang members from the corner of his eye. Their leader was a one-eyed man kicking the door of a dilapidated house, cursing incessantly. He looked thoroughly furious.