New Official Takes Office

The Lin Manor guards' courtyard at dawn.

Overnight, the news of Wang Meng "fleeing in fear of punishment" fermented and set off panic throughout the outer court.

Especially when the Head Steward stood in the courtyard with an account book in hand, his face livid, that panic reached its peak.

"Good! Very good!"

The Head Steward slammed the account book onto the stone table, making the teacups on it jump wildly.

"That Wang Meng not only stole the Second Young Master's Jade Pendant, but also falsely reported the guards' food expenses these past two months and made off with thirty taels of cash from the till! I was wondering why the accounts had not been balancing lately. So there was a thieving rat in the house!"

In the cold wind, the servants and guards stood in the courtyard with their necks hunched, scarcely daring to breathe.

Thirty taels of silver were proof positive of the Head Steward's negligent supervision.

His sinister triangular eyes scraped over the crowd like knives. He was searching for a scapegoat to vent his fury on, or a new agent who could help fill this hole and establish the rules anew.

Chen Ping stood at the very back of the servants, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his head nearly hanging to his chest.

His whole body trembled faintly, his teeth chattering. He looked more frightened than anyone, as though terrified that the Head Steward's rage would fall upon him, the insignificant fellow Wang Meng had bullied most ruthlessly.

"Wang Meng has run away, but the work in this courtyard cannot stop!"

With his hands behind his back, the Head Steward swept his cold gaze across them. "The outer court servants need someone to lead them. Who among you was close to Wang Meng? Who knows where he hid the rest of his mess?"

Before his words had faded, Lai San eagerly shoved his way out of the crowd.

He straightened his collar, plastered on a fawning smile, and stood tall.

"Steward! This humble one, Lai San, has always helped Instructor Wang... ah, no, helped that bastard Wang Meng handle the miscellaneous work. I know all the rules of this courtyard. If you trust me, I am willing to share your burdens!"

Lai San's mental abacus clattered furiously.

With Wang Meng gone, the foreman's position was a juicy piece of meat. As long as he secured the job and held power in his hands, he could skim a little profit from procurement and settle the mountain of gambling debts he owed.

Yet the Head Steward merely gave him a cold glance, his eyes filled with contempt.

"You?"

The Head Steward sneered.

"Lai San, didn't you gamble away even your underpants at Changle Fang last month? I heard creditors have already blocked the back gate of Lin Manor. Put you in charge? I fear you would sell even the brooms in this courtyard to repay your gambling debts!"

A suppressed snicker rippled through the crowd.

Lai San's face turned the color of pig liver. The smile froze on his face, looking worse than a crying expression.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but the Head Steward's cannibalistic glare forced the words back down his throat. He could only slink back into the crowd, his eyes full of humiliation and anger.

After berating Lai San, the Head Steward felt thirsty. He turned and sat back in the Grand Master Chair, lifting his teacup for a sip, only to find that the tea had long gone cold.

"You useless lot with no eyes! The tea went cold and none of you knew to replace it?"

The Head Steward set the teacup down heavily.

Just then, a thin figure hurried forward, carrying a prepared purple clay teapot.

"Steward, freshly brewed Yuqian Longjing. Please calm your anger."

With lowered eyes and an obedient manner, Chen Ping swiftly replaced the Head Steward's tea.

As he handed over the teacup, his fingers gave the bottom of the tea tray an extremely subtle push.

A heavy piece of broken silver, roughly two taels, silently slid to the Head Steward's side, perfectly concealed beneath the teacup's shadow.

The Head Steward's eyelid twitched. Without changing his expression, he covered the silver with his sleeve and gave it a light pinch with his fingertips, immediately knowing it was no small amount.

Somewhat surprised, he looked up and met Chen Ping's eyes, which appeared frightened but held a trace of shrewdness.

Chen Ping lowered his voice, speaking in a tone only the two of them could hear.

"Steward, this humble one found it last night while cleaning that bastard Wang Meng's doghouse... It was tucked in a crack beneath the bed boards. That bastard embezzled the master's money. I would not dare keep it for myself, so I have brought it to honor you, as... as a small way to recover some of your losses."

Those words were exquisitely spoken.

They both explained that the silver had come from picking up Wang Meng's stolen loot and demonstrated his own loyalty and tact.

Two taels of silver was not much, but the gesture pleased the Head Steward, who was still in the midst of his anger.

The Head Steward's gloomy face eased somewhat. With a flick of his wrist, the piece of silver vanished into his sleeve as though by magic.

He lifted the hot tea and took a slow sip, his gaze settling on Chen Ping again, as though he were seeing this usually quiet sweeper boy for the first time.

"Your name is Chen Ping, correct?"

The Head Steward set down his teacup, his tone gentler. "An honest lad."

He rose to his feet, cleared his throat, and announced loudly to the crowd.

"I do not trust a gambling addict like Lai San. But this courtyard cannot go a day without a master. Though Chen Ping is young, he is honest, loyal, and diligent. From today onward, the cleaning, night patrols, and miscellaneous duties of the outer court will temporarily be overseen by Chen Ping as Acting Foreman."

The courtyard erupted in uproar.

Lai San jerked up his head, his eyes nearly popping out with disbelief, his face full of indignation.

"Steward! He's just a sweeper, not even fully grown. Why should he—"

"Because he is an honest man! Because he does not owe a mountain of gambling debts like you!"

The Head Steward cut him off sharply, his gaze blade-like. "What? Are you questioning my decision?"

Stung by that look, Lai San forcibly swallowed the words at his lips. He could only glare viciously at Chen Ping, his eyes brimming with jealousy and grievance.

Chen Ping, meanwhile, put on an overwhelmed, terrified expression and repeatedly cupped his hands in salute.

"Thank you for your promotion, Steward! This humble one... this humble one will certainly do his utmost to watch over this courtyard for you!"

After the Head Steward left, the atmosphere in the courtyard became subtle.

The old hands who had once barked orders at Chen Ping now looked at him with a measure of scrutiny.

Lai San, accompanied by several of his usual drinking-and-gambling friends, swaggered up to Chen Ping and spat a gob of phlegm by his feet.

"Pah! What the hell are you? You think sucking up to the Steward means you can ride over my head?"

Lai San folded his arms and looked down at Chen Ping with a cold sneer.

"Kid, if you know what's good for you, hand over this foreman's job. Or from now on, half the profits in this courtyard go to me. Otherwise... I'll show you how the words 'foreman' are written!"

Faced with Lai San's provocation, Chen Ping neither backed down as he usually did nor became angry.

He merely raised his head calmly. There was not a ripple in his eyes, as though he were looking at a stray dog barking madly.

"Brother Lai San, you jest."

Chen Ping took a booklet from his robes—the roster of servants the Head Steward had just left behind.

He opened to a page and spoke in an even, businesslike tone.

"The Steward just instructed us that the manor will be strictly inspecting sanitation soon. The latrines in the rear courtyard have not been cleaned for some days, and the night-watchman has fallen ill. Since Brother Lai San so wishes to teach me how to write the word 'foreman,' then tonight's duties of cleaning the latrines and keeping watch through the night will trouble Brother Lai San."

"You dare order me to carry out the night soil?!"

Lai San flew into a rage and raised his fist to strike.

"This is the Head Steward's order."

Chen Ping neither dodged nor flinched, merely bringing out that towering authority in an indifferent tone.

"If Brother Lai San finds the work unsuitable, you may certainly reason it out with the Steward. But I should remind you, the Steward hates those who shirk work and play tricks most of all. If this task is not done properly... I hear the manor is planning to sell a batch of disobedient servants off to the Mine."

At the word "Mine," Lai San's hand froze in midair.

It was a place where nine died for every one who lived. Once sent there, no one could dream of returning alive.

Looking at Chen Ping's face, calm to the point of coldness, Lai San suddenly felt an inexplicable chill.

This little book boy, once meek and submissive, now gave him the same oppressive feeling he had felt when facing Wang Meng.

"Fine... fine! Chen Ping, you're ruthless!"

Lai San gritted his teeth and lowered his fist, pointing at Chen Ping's nose. "The mountain may not turn, but the river does. We'll see!"

With that, he led his men toward the rear courtyard latrines, his belly full of grievance and fury.

Watching Lai San's departing back, Chen Ping closed the roster, a cold smile rising at the corner of his lips.

There was no need for a blade to kill; the arts of power could strike straight at the heart.

The night was deep and still, the moon hanging overhead.

With a bedroll on his back, Chen Ping pushed open that familiar door.

Wang Meng's former private courtyard had now become his foreman's quarters.

The room had already been cleaned spotless by the servants. Even the bloody stench in the corners had been covered by incense.

Chen Ping placed his bedroll on the large bed that had once belonged to Wang Meng and reached out to stroke the bedframe.

A few days ago, he had stabbed Wang Meng to death here like slaughtering a pig.

Now, he moved in openly and aboveboard, becoming this place's new master.

The taste of a magpie occupying a cuckoo's nest did not frighten him. Instead, a strange, cruel thrill spread through his heart.

"The evil dragon is dead. Now, the dragon slayer lives in the dragon's lair."

Chen Ping murmured to himself, then turned and locked the door.

He did not rush to rest. Instead, he pried up a blue brick beneath the bed.

This was a hidden compartment he had newly discovered, even more concealed than the place where Wang Meng had hidden his money.

He carefully transferred the banknotes and most of the broken silver from his robes into it, leaving only a little for daily expenses.

After finishing everything, Chen Ping sat at the table, lit an oil lamp, and took out the bloodstained copy of Shattered Stone Palm from his robes.

He had been studying this palm technique these past few days. Though he had already achieved minor mastery, he always felt that something was missing. Whenever he drove his force to its limit, his wrist would ache faintly.

Could I be practicing it incorrectly?

Frowning, Chen Ping carefully turned through the worn booklet page by page beneath the lamplight.

When he reached the back cover, his fingers suddenly felt that the paper was unusually thick.

There seemed to be... a hidden layer within it.

He found a small knife and carefully picked open the paper of the back cover.

A yellowed piece of silk, thin as a cicada's wing, drifted out from within.

Chen Ping picked up the silk and saw it densely covered in tiny regular script. The first three words were startlingly clear—Iron Bone Soup.

"Anyone practicing Shattered Stone Palm must soak both hands in this medicinal broth. Only then can the force of recoil be neutralized and iron bones and copper skin forged. Otherwise, before the palm force is perfected, the hands will be ruined first..."

As Chen Ping read the words, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

So this was the true essence of Shattered Stone Palm!

That bastard Wang Meng had practiced for so many years and was still only half-baked. Most likely, he had either been unable to gather the medicinal ingredients for this prescription or had never discovered this hidden layer at all.

"With this prescription, and my fate..."