Golden Skin, Jade Bone

Luo Bin's gaze froze slightly, and he replied with a smile he thought looked guileless:

"Thank you for the guidance, Teacher Ruan."

As for why he called him Teacher Ruan, it was simply because he'd heard someone else use that address during the selection at Black Sheath Hall that day, and Luo Bin had picked it up.

The Chen Family Mansion sat at the golden intersection of the eastern concession and the new district of Ping City, not far from the Ping City Women's Normal School, right in the city's core commercial hub.

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Even as the car jostled him along, Luo Bin's eyes had already swept over the scene: in the distance stood a Western-style house with a three-story brick-and-wood structure, surrounded by a three-meter-high bare red brick wall.

The entrance was a stone gate tower blending Chinese and Western styles, with double-leaf wrought-iron decorative gates painted matte black. Set into the lintel was a plaque of what looked like white marble, engraved with three gilded characters: "Chen Residence."

The more Luo Bin saw, the more his heart pounded—stumbling into an imperial palace couldn't be much different. No wonder Chen Manqing and her brother had barely glanced at their chosen recruits before turning and leaving.

They had every right to be arrogant.

Ruan Pei drove straight into the front courtyard. Guard posts flanked the gate, with sentries carrying rifled guns patrolling frequently.

But as soon as Luo Bin and the others entered, someone immediately came to greet them.

The man was Fang Zijing, one of the Chen family's stewards—a warm, refined-looking middle-aged man. He was an old acquaintance of Ruan Pei and naturally knew the purpose of their visit today.

"Brother Ruan, long time no see. Today... you should know the situation. If the Second Young Master and Old Jiang hadn't put in a word beforehand, coming to the Chen residence today really wouldn't be a good choice."

With that, Fang Zijing turned and cast a guiding glance toward the mansion.

Luo Bin followed his gaze. A row of neatly trimmed French plane trees had white silk wrapped around every branch, and every lamp along the path was fitted with a white shade.

Someone important in the Chen family had passed away.

Ruan Pei's face grew heavy as he offered his condolences: "My sympathies. But the arrangements Old Master Chen made before his death are of great importance. Even if they've become posthumous matters now, we dare not slack off."

"No matter. I'll take you to Qufang Garden. Old Jiang is there."

Ruan Pei turned back to the car and said with a laugh, "Brother Fang, just take the kid over. I wouldn't dare go looking for trouble with Old Jiang. I'll be off now."

Fang Zijing seemed to recall something and smiled wryly. "Fair enough. Safe travels."

Luo Bin felt a bit awkward, trailing behind, but Steward Fang was quite talkative. Gazing at the white silk on the plane trees, he sighed:

"Young man, life is so fleeting. Life and death are beyond our control..."

Luo Bin nodded slightly and replied with a smile, "What Senior Fang says is true, but...

Birth is chance, death is certain—neither can be controlled. Yet between birth and death, there might be something we can grasp. Old Master Chen may have passed, but perhaps he's living another kind of life right now."

Fang Zijing was taken aback. He'd heard from the Second Young Master about this youth's background—just a guard left behind by the Pei family, with some brute strength, but someone who'd spent his days drifting through the lower rungs of Ping City.

Yet these words didn't sound like the insight of a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old from the bottom rung.

A person with such remarkable qualities must have his reasons. Fang Zijing silently raised Luo Bin's standing in his mind and said:

"It's not easy to have such understanding. Ahead is Old Jiang's Qufang Garden."

A row of brick walls had carved out a corner of the Chen Family Mansion's grounds, forming a separate compound.

Unlike the Western style of the main buildings, this courtyard was entirely classical in design, much like the Pei Family's estate.

Fang Zijing stopped at the right moment and instructed, "Old Jiang is inside. Since the Second Young Master chose you for your talent in cultivating the 'Primordial Stance,' your martial arts aptitude must be considerable.

Study well under Old Jiang. I'll take my leave now."

Luo Bin made a respectful bow. "Senior Fang, go safely."

Though Fang Zijing hadn't said much, the fragments of information he'd let slip were another reassurance for Luo Bin.

He had just taken a step toward the courtyard when—

Whoosh!

A sharp sound split the air. A staff about two meters long, level as an eyebrow, flew straight at Luo Bin out of nowhere, the whole shaft trembling faintly with a slight wave-like curve.

The gust of wind it kicked up forced his eyes half-shut.

When he opened them again, the staff—fast as lightning—had already been caught by a thin, elderly man who had chased after it. He held it in his hand, the tip aimed at Luo Bin's face.

But Luo Bin stood motionless. Though the blast stung his eyes, it caused him no real harm.

The old man looked surprised and asked flatly, "Why didn't you dodge?"

Luo Bin kept his smile. "To answer Old Jiang: because I wasn't afraid."

This man was the Jiang Ling—Old Jiang—that Chen Jing and his sister, Luo Wendi, and Fang Zijing had all mentioned.

Slightly stooped, in his eighties, sharp-eyed and vigorous, with a calm, restrained presence that radiated an unspoken pressure. He wore a dark blue cotton jacket with a front-buttoned cut, washed pale but pressed so smooth it had not a single wrinkle.

A few days ago, while "mixing in" at Changfeng Wharf, Luo Bin had learned from the well-informed "gossip hounds" that Jiang Ling was a retainer of the Chen family, but not an employee.

After the Great Li Dynasty's gates were breached by Western ironclads, it quickly fell under internal and external pressures.

This ancient land then entered a twenty-year vacuum period, with regional military and political power held by warlords and noble houses—known in history as the "Jiashen Vacuum."

The Westerners established concessions in medium and large cities, developed trade routes, and harvested wealth.

Jiang Ling had once been a centurion in the Jingan Bureau of the former Great Li Dynasty. In the first decade of the vacuum after the dynasty's collapse, he vanished without a trace.

In the later decade, he followed the Chen family patriarch, Chen Shuo, across the land, forging a bond of life and death. According to the wharf's rumors, Jiang Ling's martial arts had reached the realm of the profound.

As for what depth of insight he had reached, Luo Bin hadn't asked—after all, the supernatural power of this world was kept hidden by the upper class, barely glimpsed by those at the bottom.

Jiang Ling's old eyes, long accustomed to autumn moons and spring winds, held not a trace of murkiness, clear as an ancient pool. He spoke with a smile:

"Good lad. A young man rolling in the mud, yet you've got a set of 'Dragon Tendon Tiger Bone' and no small courage either. That little Chen Jing has good eyes."

Luo Bin bowed respectfully: "This Humble One dares not accept such praise from Elder Jiang."

Jiang Ling circled Luo Bin for another look, then said slowly: "Have you trained in martial arts?"

"A little. Back when I worked as a guard at the Pei Family, that old Martial Master there taught me some fist and foot techniques."

Jiang Ling returned to the pavilion in the courtyard, picked up his cup of cold tea, and took a sip before saying:

"What do you think is the limit of the power a martial artist can unleash from their hands?"

Luo Bin, unsure of his meaning, ventured a reply: "Impervious to blades and spears?"

Jiang Ling smiled without speaking. At eighty or ninety years old, his hair had turned silver-white, but the wrinkles on his face carried a ruddy glow—his vitality was strong.

Luo Bin faintly sensed an aura, so he added uncertainly: "Catching bullets with bare hands?"

Jiang Ling chuckled lightly: "A man climbing from an ordinary mortal to a Martial Master is already impervious to blades and spears. Above that, he becomes proof against water and fire, and catching bullets is within reach.

But... do you know how long the path of martial arts truly is?"

Luo Bin lowered his head and said respectfully: "This junior does not know. I beg Elder Jiang to instruct me."

"On this martial path, the most critical of the first five realms are the two barriers at the very beginning: Golden Skin and Jade Bone!"