Chapter Four: The Wang Family Had a Son

,For the fastest updates, search for the latest chapters of My Many Masters!

In a village beneath Great Liang Mountain, Wang Anfeng's body abruptly appeared inside his house. A thick iron chain still coiled around him, making the old wooden bed beneath him creak as though it could bear no more. The Buddhist prayer beads around his wrist glowed faintly, and a sheet of yellow paper materialized in midair before drifting down onto Wang Anfeng's chest.

Crash!

The wooden bed, which had barely been holding together, collapsed outright. The boy slammed into the floor and opened his eyes slightly from the pain, only to sink heavily back into sleep a moment later. Starlight poured through the half-open window, illuminating his face as its color gradually returned.

The Jade Rabbit sank in the west, and the Golden Crow rose in the east. The cool starlight was replaced by the dawn, which spilled across Wang Anfeng's face. The boy's eyelids trembled lightly before he slowly opened his eyes. He felt utterly exhausted, yet possessed a clarity he had never experienced before. Acting on instinct, he stretched his body and yawned, only to feel a heavy weight all around him. The chains clinked and rattled softly, and he froze for a moment.

Only when his gaze dropped to the dark chains wrapped around him did Wang Anfeng recall that he had been punished. As he sat up, the yellow paper on his chest drifted to the ground. Wang Anfeng picked it up. A line of writing covered it in a gentle hand—it was probably his master's. His eyes swept over it, and he read softly:

"The Qi Gathering Pill I gave you was three times the usual amount. Even if your internal qi has been beaten into every one of your limbs and bones, you must still work diligently. The denser your internal qi, the better the body-tempering effect. You'll have it easier too, Feng'er. The chains cannot be removed; they count as part of your cultivation. Today, you must practice your fist techniques for three hours. Do not grow lazy."

The writing paused slightly at this point. A little ink had stained the yellow paper before the next line was written.

"The tea leaves were excellent. I liked them very much."

The corners of Wang Anfeng's mouth lifted slightly. It was as though a ray of sunlight had shone into his heart, making him happy from head to toe. He folded the paper, only to notice what seemed to be more marks on the back. He turned it over, but before the line of writing could enter his eyes, a fierce chill rushed at his face. His scalp exploded with terror, and every hair on his body instantly stood on end. Outside, the ill-tempered Green Dappled Horse let out an even more miserable shriek.

The heart pounding wildly in his chest took dozens of breaths to finally slow down. Wang Anfeng swallowed hard. Only three words were written on the yellow paper, concise and to the point.

Go cultivate!

"...All right, all right. Mr. Ying... is terrifying."

Wang Anfeng swallowed again. The trace of drowsiness he had felt upon waking vanished in an instant. A faint crack came from the wall behind him, and a fine powder of debris slid down. A sliver of crystalline dawn shone through the crack and fell across the boy's dazed face. He looked at the smooth fissure that had appeared out of nowhere, then recalled that this wall seemed to face his abdomen just moments ago. Wang Anfeng shuddered again, his face paling.

After such a warning, how could he dare hesitate? He had no time even to deal with the shattered old bed beneath him. He immediately rose, first bringing some prepared fodder to the thoroughly frightened Green Dappled Horse. Then he washed rice and cooked a meal. The intensity of his cultivation had risen sharply yesterday. Even with Shaolin pills repairing the hidden injuries in his body, the toll on his stamina had been genuine, without the slightest discount. He ate nearly twice as much as he had when he went to Willow Catkin Villa.

Wang Anfeng stared fixedly at the rice jar, which had suddenly emptied by two-tenths. He rubbed his stomach, which was only seven-tenths full, and fell silent for a moment before abandoning his original plan to practice fist techniques in the courtyard. For the sake of making a living, he decided that even if his master had not demanded it, he would continue going up the mountain to practice as usual, chopping wood with his palms.

But today was different from the past. His internal force had been scattered and could not be used, and his body still bore those heavy restraints.

As the sky brightened, a despairing sigh drifted from the tiny wooden house.

His appetite had grown again...

Great Liang Village had truly been very strange and lively lately.

First, a scholarly family had moved in. Men and women alike were as good-looking as figures in a painting, and even the little child was as delicately carved as jade, completely outshining the village's muddy children. Every day, the faint sound of zithers and the pure fragrance of tea filled the air, making this remote little village seem to possess much more of a scholarly atmosphere. Whenever the villagers spoke with people from other villages afterward, they could hold their heads a little higher. Then there was Wang Anfeng, who had neither father nor mother, yet had returned riding a tall, fine horse. The horse had a fierce temper, but toward Wang Anfeng it was adorably docile.

And today, the already conspicuous Wang Anfeng had once again appeared, wearing a body full of chains like a criminal being punished, slowly making his way toward the mountain.

The Master of the Martial Arts School had just finished practicing a set of powerful fist techniques. Even in the cool autumn weather, he was drenched in sweat. He lifted his shirt and fanned himself while holding a teapot and gulping down last night's cold tea. The tea slid down his throat, bringing indescribable refreshment. Just then, however, he saw a familiar figure pass in front of his house.

His gaze drifted over carelessly at first, then stiffened slightly. He abruptly turned his head to look. A mouthful of cold tea had just reached his throat when it went down the wrong way, choking him into a violent coughing fit.

"W-Wang Anfeng?!"

The boy outside paused in surprise. Turning his head, he saw the Master of the Martial Arts School staring as though he had seen a ghost. He turned around, raised a hand in greeting, and smiled.

"Morning, Master."

His right arm rose, naturally swinging the tangled chain with it. It lashed against the old tree at the entrance, knocking a carpet of yellow leaves to the ground. The Master of the Martial Arts School swallowed and said:

"Morning... Morning to you too..."

"There's breakfast being made at home. Would you like to come in and have some?"

As he spoke, his eyes kept drifting uncontrollably toward the intimidating black chain wrapped around Wang Anfeng. The boy smiled and shook his head. "No, thank you. I've already eaten."

"I still have to go up the mountain and chop wood, so I won't keep chatting with you, Master."

The Master nodded as he watched the boy turn and walk away at a measured pace. Part of the chains wrapped around his legs dragged along the ground. Amid the soft rattling, they scraped two fairly deep tracks into the earth.

Only after the sound of the chains had faded into the distance did the Master set down the teapot and rush out the door in three strides. He first touched the patch of white where the chain had scraped the old tree's bark, then examined the marks it had carved into the ground. Having traveled the martial world in his youth, his eye was sharp. He immediately judged that the chains on the boy weighed at least two hundred jin. He drew a sharp breath.

"What kind of master did this child find...?"

"In the martial world, I've only heard that the fist masters and strongmen of the Heavenly Dragon Institute need to temper their bodies like this. Could Feng'er have joined the Heavenly Dragon Institute... No, that can't be. The Heavenly Dragon Institute is strict about accepting disciples. Once someone is chosen, they return to Heavenly Dragon Mountain with their master and cultivate alongside their peers. There's no way he would still be staying in Great Liang Village."

"Still, anyone capable of possessing such a physique and cultivating in such a manner must be extraordinary, even if he couldn't reach the Heavenly Dragon Institute. Feng'er is truly lucky..."

"No. I should say that, at last, a passing expert who wasn't blind recognized this uncut jade."

The Master was filled with emotion. From the courtyard behind him came the whoosh of a stone lock being swung to temper the body, along with his son's muffled shouts. When he turned around, he indeed saw his son dressed in a short jacket, tossing a stone lock into the air and catching it. His muscles bulged, and his fists and feet whistled through the air. Anyone who saw him would have praised him as a fine, strapping fellow.

Originally, he had been quite pleased that his son could temper his body with a three-hundred-and-fifty-jin stone lock. He had thought that one day his son would surely be able to establish himself here and live a comfortable life.

But now, he lowered his head to look at the marks worn into the ground by the chains. Recalling the boy's pale yet steady bearing, standing motionless like a mountain, he then listened to his son's shouts ringing in his ears. Somehow, they sounded affected and grating no matter how he heard them. His face darkened. He rolled up his sleeves and strode into the courtyard. The young man saw his father and was just about to speak when a storm of scolding came crashing down on his head.

"Stop hollering! Holler, holler, holler—are you calling for spring? I told you to practice martial arts, not train your voice! Look at Wang Anfeng. How much stronger is he than you? A grown man still practicing with a three-hundred-jin stone lock—you're not even ashamed of yourself! Tomorrow I'll change it to five hundred jin and give you a proper workout!"

Five hundred jin?!

The smile on the young man's face froze in an instant.

Great Liang Mountain behind Great Liang Village was merely a small peak at the edge of a mountain range. Since it held little danger, Wang Anfeng had run up and down it countless times as a child. Yet this time, he had never felt its height so clearly. It took him roughly an hour to reach the usual logging grounds. After steadying his breathing, he planted his feet in a horse stance. His left hand formed a tiger claw guarding his waist, while his right hand became a fist. His presence was as solemn and steady as a mountain. After gathering strength for one breath, he slammed his fist heavily into the old tree's bark.

Clang!

His punch landed, and the iron chains rang. The old tree shook violently. In the next instant, Wang Anfeng's left fist had already transformed into a palm blade and chopped out. At the same time, his body turned sharply to the right, his right arm bent at the elbow, and the point of his elbow crashed mercilessly into the tree. The thirty-two stances of Shaolin Long Fist had lost the support of internal force and could now only be executed through brute muscular strength. Bound by the chains around his body, every move and every form seemed like a battle against himself. Only by engaging every muscle in his body could he keep his movements from becoming badly distorted.

Thus, in only a short while, Wang Anfeng already felt a fierce ache in his muscles. He exhaled softly, then realized that the swollen pain from internal force filling his muscles had faded considerably. Frowning slightly, he took a porcelain bottle from his robes, tipped back his head, and swallowed a Qi Gathering Pill. After sitting in meditation for a while, his internal force once again filled his body. He rose, gave a sharp shout, and punched toward the tree again.

The iron chains rang, and the sound of fist striking tree trunk grew heavier and heavier.

Not far away, a group of middle-aged men were chopping wood with axes. The man leading them had flecks of white at his temples. Hearing the booming noise, his expression shifted. He called out to the people behind him and had them stop. After tilting his head and listening for a moment, his expression grew increasingly solemn. Lowering his voice, he said:

"Let's go. We're heading down the mountain today. Forget chopping."

A burly, fat man frowned.

"What's wrong, Sixth Master? We haven't even chopped down a few trees today. We're leaving already? This won't even earn enough for a few meals of drinking snacks..."

Sixth Master shot him a sidelong glance and bared his teeth slightly.

"With that kind of noise, I reckon a blind bear has come out and started ramming trees."

"Drinking snacks?! I think you want to become its drinking snack! Come on, come on. We'll take the small path back to the village. With winter approaching, the blind bears are beginning to range farther. Aside from when they're giving birth, these are the fiercest days of the year. Encounter one, and you're dead. Once it gets colder in a few days, things will improve."

At the mention of blind bears before winter, everyone shuddered violently. They said no more, following Sixth Master as they swiftly descended the mountain by a narrow path.