Secret Medicine, Shopkeeper Wang

Inside the martial arts hall.

Lu Chen took out a copper key and opened the door to the west-wing pharmacy.

The room was narrow and cramped, with rows of wooden cabinets nailed to the walls. Lu Chen pulled open one drawer and found several yellow paper packets tied with hemp string. Small characters had been written on them in ink: Secret Medicine, one packet daily, decoct with water.

He tore open a yellow paper packet. Inside was dark red medicinal powder mixed with chunks of minced flesh, and a stench of blood rushed up at him.

He pinched a little between his fingertips and rubbed it. The medicinal ingredients had been ground so finely that their original forms were utterly unrecognizable. The powder was smooth yet gritty, as though bones and blood had been ground together with herbs.

The clay pot on the kitchen stove still bore the blackened scorch marks left by past decoctions.

Lu Chen shook a packet of medicinal powder into the clay pot, added water and boiled it, then poured it into a wooden barrel.

After mixing in several large ladles of icy well water, the Secret Medicine was ready.

He took out the gourd he had just bought from inside his robes, pulled out its wooden stopper, filled it with the thick black medicinal broth, sealed it tightly, and tucked it back inside his clothes.

He ladled out another bowl for himself to drink before pushing the wooden barrel out of the kitchen.

In the courtyard, the disciples had just finished practicing their fists and were resting. Seeing Lu Chen push out the medicine barrel, they all came to line up for their portions.

No one found it strange that Lu Chen was distributing the medicine today.

In their eyes, this was only natural.

Lu Chen dressed poorly. One look was enough to tell he came from a poor family.

With such a background, he ought to do servants' work.

Just as mules and horses were born to pull carts, poor people ought to serve others. That was simply the rule of the world.

Afraid someone would notice he had secretly kept some Secret Medicine, Lu Chen had discreetly added more well water.

The medicinal broth sloshed in the wooden barrel, its color a shade lighter, but it was just enough to distribute.

That evening.

Lu Chen shared the jujube paste cakes bestowed by his master's wife with his brothers.

He also stuffed the gourd of Secret Medicine into Blind Man's hands.

Lu Chen had long since taught Blind Man the three moves of Plum Blossom Fist. He only lacked Secret Medicine to temper his body, and no matter how he practiced, he was always short of that final spark.

Today, he had finally found the chance to obtain a whole gourd of Secret Medicine. At last, he could help him truly enter the gate.

Blind Man was Lu Chen's most capable right-hand man.

If he wanted to gain a foothold in this man-eating world, relying on himself alone was far from enough. He needed to sharpen Blind Man, this blade, until it was keener still.

Late at night. The oil lamp glowed dimly.

Lu Chen counted the copper coins he had saved these past few days. Altogether, they came to two taels and eight qian.

He tapped the Proud Snow Cold Plum card pool. A halo burst open: six white, three green, and one purple.

Six white cards: Plum Blossom Fist Experience +1%, Strength +2, Treading Snow Seeking Plum Experience +1%, Treading Snow Seeking Plum Experience +1%, Critical Insight +1, Vitality +2

Three green cards: Plum Blossom Fist Experience +2%, Plum Blossom Fist Experience +2%, Treading Snow Seeking Plum Experience +2%

One purple card: Luck +1

He had actually drawn a purple card!

Heat surged in Lu Chen's chest. He reached out to draw again, only to force himself to stop.

He had to save some copper coins for meals and pocket money. He could not spend it all on draws.

He blew out the oil lamp and fell into a deep sleep.

Over the following days.

Lu Chen naturally took over the work of brewing and distributing medicine.

Even when his master's wife needed rouge and tea leaves bought, he rushed to run the errand.

The disciples often saw him carrying things into the rear residence, and some began wagging their tongues.

"Look at that bootlicker, off to curry favor with Master's Wife again."

"Instead of practicing proper martial arts, he keeps busy with crooked schemes." Someone spat.

Others sneered. "A poor man has shallow ambitions. No wonder he specializes in this sort of groveling and flattery."

Those disciples were talking while standing, never knowing the ache of standing.

Their families were well-off, with shops and farmland alike. They had never known the taste of lacking silver, and with parents and elders to cherish and support them, how could they understand the hardships of poor families?

When had they ever tasted the misery of having not a coin to their name, freezing and starving?

One day, after Lu Chen had finished distributing the medicine, a burly disciple swaggered over to pick a fight. He deliberately kicked over the wooden barrel, splashing medicine dregs all over Lu Chen's trouser legs.

"Bootlicker, what did Master's Wife reward you with today?" he mocked.

The disciples burst into laughter.

This burly disciple was called Wang Ding. His family ran a roast meat shop on Meat Market Street in East City. The business was booming, and rich food nourished him into a broad-shouldered, thick-waisted giant.

He had trained at the martial arts hall for nearly two years. His fists could smash three stacked blue bricks.

He was widely acknowledged as the most promising candidate to cultivate External Force.

Lu Chen silently bent down to pick up the ladle.

Wang Ding was still grinning, about to mock him again, when a black shadow lunged into his face.

Lu Chen had actually twisted at the waist and thrown a punch, its fist wind driving straight at Wang Ding's face.

"You've got some nerve."

Wang Ding hastily raised his arms to block, and his forearm went numb from the shock.

He had never expected this bootlicker to dare strike back, much less that the punch would carry such monstrously heavy force.

An adult man's strength was roughly 10 points.

After drawing cards many times, Lu Chen's Strength had already reached 47 points. This blow was comparable to the combined force of four or five strong men.

Before Wang Ding could recover, Lu Chen's second punch was already chasing toward his ribs.

Wang Ding hurriedly turned aside, only to see Lu Chen's fist turn into a leg shadow halfway through. A vicious groin kick shot straight for his crotch.

This move was not a Plum Blossom Fist technique at all. It was plainly the vicious trickery of street brawls.

Wang Ding felt a chill run down his back. Staggering backward, he happened to step on the medicine dregs, and his foot slipped.

At the instant his balance broke.

Lu Chen drove a heavy kick into his lower abdomen.

Wang Ding doubled over with a muffled groan, only for Lu Chen to smash an elbow into the center of his back. His whole body collapsed onto the ground like a torn sack.

Lu Chen planted a foot on Wang Ding's head and said coldly, "If there is a next time, don't blame me for breaking your legs."

Every disciple in the courtyard was left staring, dumbstruck.

Wang Ding was tall and powerfully built, and his brute strength ranked among the best in the martial arts hall. Master's Wife had personally remarked that if he trained hard for another year or two, he would surely cultivate External Force.

No one had expected the usually silent Lu Chen to knock Wang Ding flat with three punches and two kicks.

The disciples' gazes toward Lu Chen immediately gained several shades of wariness.

Fights were commonplace in the martial arts hall.

By the rules, victory and defeat were one's own responsibility, and no one was allowed to provoke revenge afterward.

But when Wang Ding's father, who ran the roast meat shop, heard his son had suffered a loss, he smashed his abacus on the spot and declared, "He dared touch my son? I'll find someone to remove one of his arms!"

Yet after those words had been out for three days.

Not a single thug in South City dared take the job.

An acquaintance who often ate at his shop advised him.

"Innkeeper, Lu Chen is a notorious ruthless man in South City. Bare feet fear no silk shoes. Why provoke him?"

Shopkeeper Wang's heart tightened, and he sent someone to make a few inquiries.

Only then did he learn that Lu Chen had roamed the streets since childhood, with a gang of brothers following him, each obeying his every command. He also heard that... Lu Chen had killed someone.

Shopkeeper Wang immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

Early the next morning, he hurriedly selected ten jin of fine pork belly and personally carried it to the martial arts hall to apologize.

Lu Chen did not put on a sour face. He courteously accepted the pork, exchanged a few smiling pleasantries, and let the matter pass.

Businessmen like Shopkeeper Wang understood best how to weigh profit and harm.

If the other party had merely been from a poor family, without money or influence, then they would naturally be his to knead and pinch as he pleased.

But someone like Lu Chen, with nothing to tie him down and skill in martial arts, was instead the most feared.

Shopkeeper Wang was a respectable man. He had a house in the county, his shop, his relatives and friends—everything he had.

He held a porcelain bowl, while the other side was a broken roof tile.

How could he dare truly clash head-on with a desperado like Lu Chen?

He could only swallow this grievance. Spending money to ward off disaster and settling matters peacefully—those were the principles of a proper businessman.