Yang Ning

Great Yue Dynasty, Outer City of Kuishan County, Nanning Prefecture.

In the afternoon, the sun was so scorching it seemed capable of baking a haze right off the stone road.

By the time Yang Ning dragged his empty handcart back to the Porter Guild's gathering place, his undershirt was already soaked through and clinging to his lean back.

"Ah Ning, you're back?"

Old Wu, the Porter Guild's manager, leaned halfway out from the shade, account book in hand.

Yang Ning nodded and fished a pouch of copper coins from his belt, handing it over.

"Uncle Wu, today's fee."

Old Wu took the money, counted the coins one by one, and made an entry in the account book. Only then did he look Yang Ning over.

"How many trips today?"

"Four loads of grain and three of miscellaneous goods."

Yang Ning wiped the sweat from his forehead and pushed his handcart against the wall, propping it up.

The spots where the handles had been worn smooth had taken him a whole year to rub down, inch by inch.

"Mm. Just like your father—hardworking, at least."

Old Wu rarely offered praise. Then he lowered his voice.

"Shopkeeper Chen, south of East Third Street, has a batch of porcelain to move tomorrow. Light work. Want me to save it for you?"

Warmth filled Yang Ning's heart. He took a few copper coins from his pocket and tried to tuck them into Old Wu's robe.

"Thanks, Uncle Wu."

Old Wu waved him off, signaling that he could leave.

But Yang Ning didn't go at once. Instead, he turned to look at the patch of hard-packed earth in the center of the Porter Guild's courtyard.

Seven or eight men in gray short jackets were holding horse stances, arms extended, motionless.

Sweat rolled down from their temples and struck the earth, leaving dark little circles.

Standing in front and instructing them was Zhao Tie, the guild's martial arts instructor. He was a burly man with thick, knotted muscles in his arms.

For a guild to establish itself in these turbulent times, training in martial arts was essential.

"Sink your waists! Keep your breathing even!

"The whole point of Rock Stance Technique is one word: 'steadiness'!

"Once you've mastered 'steadiness,' you can learn to move freely.

"You little mongrels, don't get ahead of yourselves.

"Only when your stance is solid can your qi and blood become vigorous.

"Once your qi and blood are active, you can set foot on the path of a martial artist."

Zhao Tie's booming voice echoed through the courtyard.

Yang Ning crept over to the stone mill by the corner wall. Wiping his face with a rag, he watched their movements without blinking.

His gaze lingered especially on Zhao Tie's feet.

He studied how the toes gripped the ground, how the weight was distributed, the angle of the bent knees...

For the past month, every afternoon after returning his cart, he had come here to "steal a lesson."

After watching for a while, Yang Ning began imitating them without even realizing it.

He spread his feet shoulder-width apart, slightly bent his knees, and held his hands loosely in front of his abdomen.

His movements weren't as polished as those of the guild's disciples, but there was a steadiness to them.

"Hey, Brother Ning's practicing his moves again?"

A familiar laugh came from nearby.

Yang Ning knew it was his fellow porter, Old Li, without even turning around.

Old Li was five years older than him. He'd worked for the Porter Guild for eight years and was famous for never shutting up.

"I've got nothing better to do."

Keeping his stance, Yang Ning answered softly.

Old Li squatted on the stone mill, a blade of grass between his teeth.

"Look at you. You're worn half to death hauling carts every day, and now you're fooling around with these fancy poses.

"What good do you think it'll do? You don't even have a master to teach you."

A few porters who had just taken a break gathered around.

"Exactly, Brother Ning. Save your strength. You've got work again tomorrow."

"If you really want to learn martial arts, save up some money and find yourself a proper master."

Yang Ning only smiled and said nothing.

His breathing gradually evened out. His legs had already begun to tremble slightly, but he kept going.

A year had passed. At first, he could barely hold the stance for half an incense stick's time. Now he could stand firm for a full one. Only he knew how much he had changed.

Zhao Tie glanced over, his brows knitting slightly, but he said nothing.

The guild had strict rules: its stance technique wasn't taught to outsiders.

But Yang Ning was a familiar face, and his father had also been a longtime member of the Porter Guild.

Besides, all he was doing was watching from a distance and imitating. Without the guild's secret medicines and techniques, it was nothing more than a fancy pose—he couldn't learn anything real.

Zhao Tie decided not to bother with him.

Another incense stick's time passed before the guild disciples finished their practice and scattered in twos and threes.

Zhao Tie was the last to leave. As he passed Yang Ning, he paused.

"Grip the ground tighter with your toes."

After leaving him with those words, Zhao Tie strode away.

Yang Ning froze, then adjusted his posture as instructed. His stance really did feel more stable.

Grateful, he gave Zhao Tie's retreating back a slight nod.

Only after the courtyard was empty did Yang Ning slowly release his stance.

After one complete set, another layer of sweat soaked through his clothes, yet strangely, he felt less tired than before.

He brushed the dust off himself and headed home.

Kuishan County's Outer City was divided into eastern, western, southern, and northern districts. The Yang Family lived in a run-down neighborhood of East Third Street.

The neighborhood was home to artisans, peddlers, and laborers. Its streets were narrow, and its houses low.

As he turned a street corner and saw no one around, a thought crossed Yang Ning's mind. Several lines of translucent text suddenly appeared in his field of vision, floating in the air where only he could see them:

[Yang Ning]

[Realm: None]

[Destiny: Destined Martial Saint, Heaven Rewards Diligence]

[Martial Arts: Rock Stance Technique (97/100, Not Yet Initiated)]

Looking at the experience bar that was nearly full, Yang Ning couldn't help the slight upward curl of his lips.

A few more days, three more practice sessions, and he would master Rock Stance Technique.

After a full year in this world, he was finally about to take his first step.

That's right. Yang Ning didn't belong to this world.

One year ago, he had been an ordinary office worker in the modern world. After a sudden car accident, he'd opened his eyes again to find himself in the body of a twenty-year-old porter boy.

Yang Ning's parents had both died of illness when he was young.

His older brother and sister-in-law had raised him through hardship.

All these years, they hadn't made Yang Ning's family rich or powerful, but he had always had clothes in the cold and food when hungry. Their life had been stable enough.

Along with his rebirth, he had gained this mysterious golden finger.

At first, Yang Ning thought the accident had damaged his brain and made him hallucinate.

But as time passed, he gradually figured out how this "Destiny System" worked:

As long as he practiced a martial art, he gained experience. He also always progressed along the most effective path, without bottlenecks. As long as he put in the effort, he was guaranteed to reap the rewards.

On the first day he saw the guild disciples practicing at the Porter Guild, he had tried imitating them a few times. The system interface had then displayed an experience bar for [Rock Stance Technique].

Even without a teacher, he could gain experience by observing and adjusting his movements on his own.

He had Heaven Rewards Diligence, but he still hadn't figured out what this so-called Destined Martial Saint meant.

At the thought, Yang Ning quickened his pace.

After turning down two streets, he saw a row of low earthen houses tucked into a corner of East Third Street.

The last house, with its faded blue curtain hanging at the doorway, was the Yang Family home.

He pushed open the creaking wooden door, and the familiar smell of medicinal herbs washed over him.

In the main room, his sister-in-law, Liu Ying, sat on a low stool mending clothes. His six-year-old niece, Xiao Hua, was sprawled on the floor, playing with a few smooth stones.

"Uncle's home!"

Xiao Hua's eyes lit up as she rushed over.

Yang Ning smiled, scooped her up, and spun her around. Then he took two pieces of malt candy wrapped in oiled paper from his pocket.

"Here. I bought them on the way."

Xiao Hua cheered and took the candy, but first she ran to her mother.

"Mother, candy!"

Liu Ying looked up, revealing a delicate face shadowed by exhaustion.

She was only twenty-eight, yet fine lines had already appeared at the corners of her eyes. When she saw Yang Ning, she managed a faint smile.

"You're back? There's still hot food in the pot."

Yang Ning set Xiao Hua down and noticed the worry clouding his sister-in-law's brow.

"Sister-in-law, still no news from my brother?"

The needle in Liu Ying's hand paused. She gently shook her head.

"It's been a month and three days."

Yang Ning's heart sank. His older brother, Yang An, was a herbalist who often ventured deep into the mountains of the Southern Frontier in search of rare medicinal herbs.

The work was dangerous, but it paid well.

Yang An was usually away for no more than half a month. This time, however, an entire month had passed without a word.

"Maybe he found some good herbs in the mountains and got held up?"

Yang Ning tried to comfort her.

"Your brother knows better than to be careless."

Liu Ying set down her needlework, her voice trembling slightly.

"Even if something delayed him, he should've sent word with someone.

"I've been on edge these past few days. I can't sleep soundly at night, either."

The atmosphere in the main room grew heavy.

Xiao Hua seemed to sense her mother's unease. She obediently sat to one side, licking her candy in tiny strokes.

Yang Ning was about to say something when a staggered set of footsteps came from outside, followed by a faint, weak knock.

"Ying... Ning... open the door..."

The voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable, but Yang Ning and Liu Ying both sprang to their feet!

It was Yang An's voice!

Yang Ning had practiced his stance, and he moved like a flash, practically lunging at the door as he yanked open the latch.

Outside, a man covered in grime and wearing tattered clothes leaned against the doorframe, barely able to stand.

"Dear!"

Liu Ying cried out and hurried to support him.