Gold for Citizenship

Time flew like a white colt passing a crack in the wall, and three years had passed in the blink of an eye.

The autumn wind in Qinghe County remained bleak, dulling even the luster of the Lin Manor's gold-lettered signboard.

These three years had been hard on the Lin Family. The silk business south of the city had been squeezed by the Jin Family until it nearly ran out of supplies, while several shops north of the city suffered consecutive losses due to poor management.

Master Lin's once-plump, round face now sagged with loose flesh, dark bags under his eyes, as he spent his days sighing in the study, his hair graying from worry over the thousands of taels in deficits.

Chen Ping stood in the dim corner of the servants' quarters, making his final inventory of the heavy black cloth bundle.

Five hundred taels.

This was the fruit of all his labor over the past three years.

Beyond his increasingly frantic herbal medicine trading, he had used his uncle Liu Sanjin's connections to take on shady escort jobs under the alias "Black Fiend."

Every single time, he had risked his neck, earning every coin by licking blood off the blade's edge.

"Five hundred taels—to buy my freedom, to buy a ticket to the Imperial Military Examination."

Chen Ping's fingers gently brushed over the rough surface of the banknotes, the thick calluses on his fingertips scraping with a rustling sound.

This sum was enough to buy a two-courtyard house in Qinghe County, plus several dozen acres of good farmland, letting him live comfortably as a wealthy landowner.

But for Chen Ping, it was merely the first toll on his long road to immortality.

He tied the bundle tightly around his waist and pushed open the door.

At this moment, though still dressed in simple blue cotton short clothes, his physique was vastly different from three years ago.

He appeared lean, but his muscles were as dense as iron. The restrained vitality in his every move was deliberately hidden by a slightly hunched back.

Outside the study.

Chen Ping knelt on both knees, his forehead pressed against the cold blue stone slab, his voice respectful and humble:

"Your servant Chen Ping requests an audience with the master."

After a moment, Master Lin's weary and impatient voice came from inside: "Enter."

Chen Ping rose, kept his head low, and shuffled into the study.

The room was thick with the stale smell of ink and mildew. Master Lin slumped in his armchair, idly rolling two walnuts that had long lost their sheen.

The Head Steward stood to one side, his triangular eyes fixed on Chen Ping like a venomous snake.

"You, a servant, not on duty in the outer courtyard—what are you doing here?" Master Lin didn't even lift his eyelids.

Chen Ping said nothing. He silently untied the black cloth bundle from his waist, held it in both hands, raised it above his head, and walked step by step to the desk, setting it down gently.

The bundle fell open.

A thick stack of banknotes, along with several ingots of pure silver, gleamed temptingly and lethally in the dim light.

Master Lin's hand, rolling the walnuts, paused.

The Head Steward's murky eyes bulged wide, his Adam's apple bobbing.

The study fell dead silent.

"This... this is...?"

Master Lin's voice trembled slightly as he leaned forward involuntarily, staring at the pile of silver.

"Reporting to the master, this is five hundred taels."

Chen Ping still kept his head low, his tone calm.

"Your servant begs the master's mercy to release me from servitude and grant a letter of recommendation, permitting me to participate in this year's Imperial Military Examination."

"Five hundred taels?!"

Master Lin gasped sharply, shooting to his feet. His gaze darted between the silver and Chen Ping, his shock quickly turning into deep suspicion and greed.

"You, a household slave—where did you get so much money? Don't tell me you stole from the manor's treasury?"

"The master sees clearly."

Chen Ping had prepared for this. He unhurriedly pulled a pre-prepared jade pendant fragment from his bosom.

"Your servant's ancestors were once wealthy in a former dynasty. This was the last keepsake passed down. A few days ago, I sold it on the Black Market, and together with what I've saved frugally over the years, I scraped together this sum."

The excuse was riddled with holes, but in the face of five hundred taels of real silver, the money itself was what mattered.

Master Lin tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, his eyes flickering uncertainly.

Five hundred taels was enough to solve the Lin Family's immediate crisis.

But releasing a household slave to take the military exam?

If this brat actually passed and rose to prominence, would he hold a grudge against the Lin Family for their harsh treatment over the years?

"Master."

The Head Steward, who had remained silent, suddenly leaned close to Master Lin's ear and lowered his voice.

"This kid's background is shady. A household slave carrying a huge sum of money is a capital offense in itself. In this old servant's opinion, it's better to just..."

The Head Steward made a throat-slitting gesture, his eyes flashing with murderous intent.

Chen Ping's ears twitched slightly.

After being tempered day and night by the Longevity of Pine and Crane, his five senses had long surpassed ordinary men. The whisper, faint as a mosquito's drone, fell into his ears word for word.

So the meat-eaters were indeed base, insatiably greedy.

Chen Ping sneered inwardly, but kept a submissive look on his face. Only his once-lowered eyelids lifted slightly, revealing a glint of sharpness.

He slowly straightened his back, no longer the stooped posture of a servant.

"Master Lin, Head Steward."

"This servant knows his place is lowly, but these five hundred taels are my life's ransom. If they can't buy my life..."

Chen Ping paused, his right hand casually resting on a blue-and-white porcelain teacup beside the desk.

It was Master Lin's most cherished Ru Kiln Teacup.

Crack.

Chen Ping's palm exerted no force, not even touching the teacup's surface—merely hovering three inches above it.

The hard porcelain cup, as if struck by an invisible heavy hammer, instantly web-cracked, then, with a clatter, crumbled into a pile of fine powder spread across the desk.

Inner qi released externally, shattering objects from a distance!

This was a feat only achievable when internal martial arts had reached a certain level of mastery!

Master Lin's pupils abruptly contracted. He fell back into his armchair, his face deathly pale.

The Head Steward's unfinished slander got stuck in his throat. He stared in terror at the pile of porcelain dust on the desk, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

If that palm strike had landed on a man's crown...

The air in the study froze instantly.

Chen Ping withdrew his hand, lowered his head again, and resumed his submissive demeanor, as if nothing had just happened.

"This servant only seeks a future, with no second thoughts. If I pass the examinations, I will surely remember the Lin Family's kindness."

This was an olive branch, and also a final ultimatum.

A shattered net and broken fish, or each taking what they needed?

Master Lin was a businessman after all. After the extreme terror subsided, his mind raced.

This kid's martial arts were so formidable. If he forced him to stay, the Lin Manor would likely run with blood tonight.

Conversely, if he did him a favor, took the silver, he could forge a good connection.

"Ahem..."

Master Lin coughed dryly, forcibly suppressing the shock in his heart, and forced a smile onto his face.

"Chen Ping, I've watched you grow up. Since you have this ambition, how could I, your master... not see it through?"

He quickly spread out a sheet of rice paper, picked up his brush, and wrote.

The Manumission Document, the Letter of Recommendation.

Done in one go.

When he stamped the Lin Family's bright red seal, Master Lin's hand was still trembling.

"But..."

Master Lin pressed a corner of the documents as he handed them over.

"After all, you're a man who came from my Lin Family. If you pass the Imperial Military Examination, you must affiliate yourself with the Lin Family and protect it for ten years. Within these ten years, if the Lin Family faces trouble, you must not stand idly by."

"Deal."

Chen Ping answered crisp and clean.

Ten years?

In this chaotic age, who knew if the Lin Family could even last ten years?

He reached out and took the two thin sheets of paper. They felt light in his hand, yet weighed a thousand pounds.

The five hundred taels of silver stayed on the desk. Chen Ping turned and strode out of the study.

As he pushed open the door, the noonday sun pierced through the clouds, spilling unreservedly onto his face.

It was a little blinding, but warm enough to make a man want to cry.

He raised a hand to shield his eyes, watching the golden light seep through his fingers. In a daze, it all felt unreal.

Even though he had transmigrated until now, even though he held the Golden Finger, it was only at this moment, holding this Manumission Document, that he truly felt like a living person—no longer someone's property or slave.

"Free."

Chen Ping murmured to himself.

He didn't rush to leave. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the inner courtyard.

There stood an Embroidery Tower. In that tower was a foolish woman, still working day and night to stitch soles for his shoes, saving up those few taels of silver to buy his freedom.

"Sister Yun, wait for me."

Chen Ping's fingers clenched tightly around the letter of recommendation, his knuckles turning white.

He still wasn't strong enough now. He couldn't take her away yet.

The Imperial Military Examination was only the first step.

When he passed with honors and returned draped in an official's robe, that would be the day he came with a grand sedan chair and a proper wedding.

Chen Ping shouldered his simple pack and cast one last, deep look back at the weathered plaque of Lin Manor.

The words "Lin Manor" seemed to rot under the sunlight.

He turned around, didn't look back again, and strode toward the military training grounds outside the city.