Sparring

After returning from the reservoir, Feng Xiu began his usual rounds of the various taverns, shops, and grain stores, checking the accounts for income and expenditure.

Strictly speaking, this work only required a weekly summary, with the ledgers submitted for review.

But Feng Xiu was currently in a phase where he needed to demonstrate his competence as the heir, and most of Feng Ao's praise came from this diligence.

Arriving at the largest Feng Grain Shop in the west of the city, the shopkeeper Old Liu was already waiting at the door, having prepared the account books well in advance.

He attended to Feng Xiu's side and poured a cup of plain tea.

Uncle Zheng, meanwhile, had gone to the grain warehouse to verify whether the inventory records matched and whether any goods had been swapped.

Feng Xiu opened the ledger, his gaze sweeping over several pages, his fingertip lightly tapping the last income and expenditure record from six days ago.

"Explain this. Since grain prices have risen so much, why isn't there a corresponding silver entry in the books?"

Feng Xiu knew grain prices would rise—after all, spring planting was still up in the air, and the reservoir remained closed.

But where was the money from the price hike?

Old Liu was a longtime retainer of the Feng family; he shouldn't be pulling such shoddy tricks.

Hearing this, Old Liu showed no panic. He bowed and said, "The eldest young master has a keen eye. This is no oversight on my part, but rather an alternate arrangement."

Turning around, he retrieved a slightly worn private ledger from a hidden compartment beneath the counter and presented it with both hands.

"Half a month ago, the family head came in person and instructed that half of the grain shop's revenue be withheld, not recorded in the public accounts, and placed entirely under Uncle Zheng's control for disbursement. All withdrawals are recorded in this book. Please, eldest young master, take a look."

Feng Xiu took the ledger and opened it. Inside, it was densely filled with various expenditures over the past half-month, ranging from one or two taels to over a dozen.

Adding them all up, the total exceeded a hundred taels.

The listed items included three qian of Red Flame Fruit, one tael of Jade Bone Grass, a section of five-year-old tiger bone, aged ginseng whiskers, and so on.

The entries were packed tight—all materials used by martial artists to warm and nourish bones and sinews, replenish blood and qi, and for medicinal dietary supplements.

"No wonder martial training costs so much!" Just looking at this made Feng Xiu click his tongue in amazement.

Only a few days, and they'd already spent a hundred taels of silver?

Feng Xiu had never really felt the weight of resource allocation before; he only knew that the medicinal baths after each training session were highly addictive.

He'd assumed those potent herbs came from Feng Ao's private stock. Who would have thought they were drawn from the grain shop's public accounts—and at such a steep price?

The concept of "poor for civil studies, rich for martial arts" suddenly became vividly real to him.

"The eldest young master speaks truly. The path of cultivation values martial resources above all. Your bone age is already fixed; without external aids, accumulated hidden injuries will only worsen the more you train."

Just as Feng Xiu was sighing over this, Uncle Zheng returned after finishing his warehouse inspection.

He gave a slight nod to Old Liu, who looked visibly anxious.

Old Liu's expression relaxed, and he gratefully clasped his hands toward Uncle Zheng.

Feng Xiu closed the ledger. Amid his reflections, a spark of curiosity arose.

"Uncle Zheng, in your opinion, with these martial resources at my disposal, how many years at the fastest could I reach the Blood Burning realm?"

"Eldest young master, martial resources can help you go fast, but how far you go depends on yourself. If your foundation and comprehension are lacking, even a mountain of gold and silver can't forge a Blood Burning realm."

"I understand." Feng Xiu's heart stirred at the words, but he said nothing more.

In truth, he had wanted to ask Uncle Zheng what he thought of his talent.

Since martial resources could alter one's realm, and he had the boost of the Technique Record...

Even if he wasn't a genius, it probably wouldn't matter much.

Leaving the grain shop, Feng Xiu continued his rounds with Uncle Zheng to several taverns.

In recent days, grain prices in Green Rock City had soared, and business at the taverns had dropped considerably. On the streets, more and more common folk hurried past with anxious expressions.

When they reached the last grain shop on the route, a dozen or so commoners were lined up at the entrance, holding cloth sacks, clay pots, and the like.

On the notice board beside the shop, next to the millet sign, several other grain varieties were marked with the word "sold out."

Like other family-run grain merchants, the Feng family owned their own farms, but the shop didn't sell Golden Ear Wheat.

Under normal circumstances, they sold locally grown millet crops. Golden Ear Wheat was an economic grain; ordinary folk simply couldn't afford it.

This was also the real reason Feng Ao hadn't been seen for days—the Feng family's reserves couldn't support the large-scale trade planned with the Zhou Family Escort Agency.

He had to go buy from other major cities, which would likely take several days.

After finishing the rounds, the sun was slanting westward.

On the way back, Uncle Zheng didn't head directly home but instead directed the driver toward the south of the city.

The carriage finally stopped in front of the Chu Family Pharmacy.

Feng Xiu looked puzzled, and Uncle Zheng explained, "Eldest young master, before the family head departed, he specially ordered a batch of White Deer Pills for you from the Chu Family Pharmacy."

"These pills fortify the foundation, nourish the original qi, and replenish blood and vitality. They can help you solidify your base and advance boldly." He added with a smile.

Then, he gestured for Feng Xiu to wait a moment.

Before long, Uncle Zheng returned, handing over a palm-sized jade box he had retrieved from inside the pharmacy.

Feng Xiu opened it to find thirty pills neatly arranged inside, each the size of a longan, with a luster as warm and smooth as white jade, emitting a faint, clear fragrance.

"Back to the residence." Closing the jade box, Feng Xiu waved his hand.

Uncle Zheng smiled, then flicked the horsewhip, quickening their pace.

Back at the residence.

Feng Xiu could barely contain his eagerness. First, he ran through two rounds of the Five Force Fist in the courtyard.

He worked his blood and qi into motion, stretched his tendons and bones until he was lightly sweating.

Then he took out a White Deer Pill and swallowed it in one gulp.

The White Deer Pill carried a sensation of grass and stone as it rolled down his throat, its effects almost immediate.

A warm, vast current exploded in his chest, the potent medicinal force surging through his limbs and bones, merging into the surging tide of blood and qi.

Feng Xiu felt his blood and qi instantly boil, his heartbeat suddenly racing, his temples throbbing. He hurriedly set up his fist stance, trying to guide the medicinal force through practice.

But just as he reached the eighth form, that medicinal force lost control, rushing toward the meridians in his right hand. Veins bulged on his forearm, and his muscles spasmed uncontrollably!

Feng Xiu's expression shifted. He forcibly steadied himself, slowed the range of his movements, and with sheer effort suppressed that violent medicinal force back into his dantian.

By the end of the fist routine, he was drenched in cold sweat.

Then, Feng Xiu took a deep breath, forcibly stabilizing this explosive surge of blood and qi, slightly reducing the amplitude of his movements.

Only after feeling that the medicinal force had been initially absorbed did he resume the original fist forms.

Once, twice, after the fifth repetition, he felt nothing but exhilaration throughout his body, his breath full and long.

Off to the side, Uncle Zheng nodded inwardly. "Chief Escort Zhou really knows his stuff. Good thing he didn't rashly teach the young master the Internal Breath Method—otherwise, it would only have ruined his foundation."

The Internal Breath Method is the core of any martial art; to be precise, it is the profound technique of using qi to drive blood.

If he were to learn the Internal Breath Method now, he could certainly improve his strength quickly, but in truth, it would only damage his meridians and leave hidden injuries.

After all, Feng Xiu couldn't even withstand the medicinal force of a White Deer Pill. Once internal breath began circulating, blood and qi would surge instantly, risking torn meridians.

Seeing Feng Xiu still somewhat unsatisfied after finishing his practice, Uncle Zheng clapped his hands to call him over. "Young master, please wait a moment."

Feng Xiu turned to look.

Then a lean, sharp-eyed young man walked over from the corridor.

The man was about twenty-five or twenty-six, dressed in a black short-sleeved outfit. His muscle lines weren't exaggerated, his temples slightly bulged, and his steps were light and silent as he moved.

His face was quite ordinary, save for a shallow scar above his left brow, which added an air of sternness.

"This is Han Che, a skilled hand under Head Escort Zhou. He hasn't reached Blood Ignition yet, but he's quite knowledgeable about combat and brawling in the Body Refining realm, especially close-quarters fighting."

Uncle Zheng introduced him. "Young master, your fist technique is newly formed. Spar a few rounds with Brother Han."

Feng Xiu's eyes lit up. He'd long heard that the Zhou family escort team were all top-notch fighters.

He hadn't expected the chance to spar with them to come so soon.

At that moment, Han Che stepped forward, cupped his fists in salute to Feng Xiu, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant, his gaze calm—clearly a man who had seen real combat.

"Master Feng, please." His words were concise, and he extended a hand in a gesture of invitation.

Feng Xiu took a deep breath and returned the salute. "Brother Han, please guide me."

The two took their positions in the courtyard. Han Che did not strike first but instead slightly lowered his stance, his eyes sharp as an eagle's, locking directly onto Feng Xiu.

Feng Xiu focused, attacked first with a low shout, stepped forward, and threw a straight punch aimed at Han Che's center.

A glint flashed in Han Che's eyes. He neither dodged nor evaded, only sidestepping abruptly as the fist neared.

His left hand shot out like a viper, slicing along Feng Xiu's wrist. Feng Xiu felt a clever force transmit through him, and just as he was about to change his move, Han Che's right hand instantly formed a blade with his fingers.

It brushed past Feng Xiu's throat like lightning!

Though there was no direct contact, in that instant, the skin on Feng Xiu's neck tightened, his hairs stood on end, and he hastily retreated two steps.

He reached up to touch his unharmed throat, breaking out in a cold sweat.

After training for so many days, he thought he was strong. But in a real fight, he couldn't even block a single move.

If this weren't a spar, he'd already be dead.