Hong Yuan was summoned by his disciples. Looking at the corpse they had carried back, covered with a white cloth, he furrowed his brows.
In the end, he could only shake his head and sigh. "Mediocre natural talent, too much ambition, too eager for quick success, and no care for his own body..."
"Martial arts aren't mastered by risking your life. The too-rigid will break."
His words carried a trace of regret.
Yet they also revealed the indifference of someone who had seen too many similar scenes.
Lin Qing stood among the crowd, looking at the lifeless body, his heart in turmoil.
He thought of Wang Cheng's frenzied training, day and night.
He thought of Wang Cheng's astonishing perseverance.
In truth, there had always been an audience.
But hard work did not necessarily bring rewards.
Sometimes, it even brought a crueler outcome.
"Don't fight over a moment's pride, and don't show off a moment's courage."
Lin Qing silently warned himself.
"The body is a precious raft for crossing the world; a solid foundation is a great wall for the martial path."
"Overexertion damages one's future potential."
"I, Lin Qing, must follow the laws of nature and the Heavenly Dao, balance exertion with rest, and arrange my training sensibly. Only then can I go far."
What he pursued was longevity.
It was the power to control his own fate.
Not a fleeting burst of brilliance.
Just as everyone was still sighing over Wang Cheng's sudden death,
the clear jingling of jade pendants rang out at the martial hall's entrance.
It drew everyone's gaze.
A beautiful young woman entered the martial hall, accompanied by an elderly man who looked like a steward.
She appeared to be around eighteen, and wore a pale yellow outfit that outlined her slender, developing figure.
Her skin was fair as snow, her features as lovely as a painting. Her lively gaze carried a spirited charm, and the exquisitely decorated short sword at her waist lent her a touch of heroic poise.
Hong Yuan, whose face had been clouded with gloom over Wang Cheng's death,
lit up the instant he saw her.
A rare, kindly smile spread across his face, and he stepped forward to greet her.
"Ying'er? Are you Brother Liu's daughter, Ying'er?"
"You've grown so much!"
Hong Yuan's voice brimmed with the joy of reuniting with an old friend's child.
The young woman smiled when she saw Hong Yuan, her face blooming like a spring flower. She greeted him gracefully with the courtesy due an elder. "Your niece, Liu Ying, pays her respects to Uncle Hong!"
"My father sent me to become your disciple, Uncle, and learn martial arts to strengthen my body."
"Good, good! Brother Liu has been thoughtful!"
Hong Yuan burst into hearty laughter, looking exceptionally pleased.
He personally examined Liu Ying's bones with care.
A moment later,
astonishment showed in Hong Yuan's eyes, and his voice wavered slightly. "She actually has superior natural talent! Heaven has blessed the Hong Family Martial Hall, granting us such a fine jade!"
Hong Yuan paid no mind to the corpse lying beneath the white cloth. He personally led Liu Ying around the martial hall.
He immediately began teaching her the basic stance of Iron Wire Fist, guiding her hand over hand. His patience and detailed explanations were worlds apart from how he usually instructed the outer disciples.
"Ying'er, look. With Iron Thread Stance, keep your center of gravity steady, and visualize iron rings around your arms..."
"That's right, just like that. Keep your back straight, and let your breath sink..."
Hong Yuan's voice was gentle.
The outer disciples watched him teach Liu Ying hand over hand, their feelings a tangled mess.
After quite some time, seeing that Hong Yuan was still instructing Liu Ying,
a disciple who lived on the same street as Wang Cheng and had gotten along reasonably well with him gathered his courage and stepped forward. He asked carefully, "Master, what should we do about Junior Brother Wang Cheng's funeral?"
Hong Yuan was focused on teaching Liu Ying. Without even turning his head, he casually waved a hand, his tone flat and emotionless. "Since he's gone, follow the martial hall's usual practice."
"Go to the accounts room and ask your mistress for half a month's wages as compensation. Take it back to his family."
Half a month's wages—
only two taels and five mace of silver.
That was all the compensation Wang Cheng's months of arduous training and eventual sudden death had earned him.
The disciple opened his mouth, seeming to want to say more.
But when he saw Hong Yuan's unyielding back,
he ultimately didn't dare speak again and withdrew dejectedly.
Lin Qing watched coldly from the side, thinking to himself, "Nothing shows the warmth and coldness of human nature more clearly than this."
Still, Hong Yuan's actions did follow the martial hall's rules, and it was hard to find much fault with them.
After all, Wang Cheng hadn't died fighting for the martial hall. He had simply gone wrong while practicing on his own.
Giving him compensation at all was already the utmost benevolence.
That was the cruelty of reality.
Without value, one could hardly expect to be valued.
Toward evening,
Lin Qing went to the market as usual to buy household supplies.
The streets seemed noisier than usual. People huddled together, whispering, their faces filled with fear and unease.
He caught a few scattered words as they drifted past:
"You Province is finished!"
"Tens of thousands of troops! I heard not one of them made it out..."
"Those Golden Barbarians are savage. Once they took the city, they slaughtered everyone..."
"The price of grain is going to soar!"
You Province had fallen.
Tens of thousands of soldiers had been massacred by the Golden Barbarians!
Lin Qing's heart sank, as if he had plunged into an icy cellar.
His father had been conscripted to the Northern Border earlier.
Though he might not have been sent to You Province specifically,
with the Northern Border's war going so badly, he could imagine the peril his father was in.
An overwhelming sense of crisis seized him.
Once war broke out, prices would soar, especially the price of grain.
It was bound to become the most sought-after commodity!
He immediately headed for the rice shop he frequented.
A few people were already gathered outside, discussing the news, but there had not yet been a mass rush to buy.
Lin Qing squeezed to the front and told the shopkeeper directly, "Shopkeeper, three hundred jin of brown rice. I want it now."
The shopkeeper had heard the rumors too and was still uncertain what to make of them.
Seeing Lin Qing make such a large purchase, he froze for a moment, then quickly recovered and called over an employee to weigh the rice.
When Lin Qing left the shop carrying three heavy sacks containing three hundred jin of brown rice—enough to feed a family of three for months—
a greater commotion erupted behind him.
"Quick, buy rice!"
"You Province has fallen! There's going to be a war!"
"Give me a hundred jin too!"
"Stop pushing, stop pushing!"
Panic kept spreading. The crowd that had just been watching from the sidelines
instantly descended into a chaotic frenzy of buying.
The rice shopkeeper was both shocked and delighted. He immediately raised his prices on the spot.
"Stop crowding! Grain now costs three more wen per jin. Buy while you can!"
The others cursed when they heard him.
But they still gritted their teeth and bought plenty.
Lin Qing carried the rice back to Yongning Street.
Before he even reached Benevolent World Hall, he heard a fierce argument coming from the entrance of his family's shop.
Lin Qing pushed through the onlookers and hurried toward the shop.
A slovenly middle-aged man with scabby sores on his head was pointing at Lin Wan's nose and shouting, "Everyone, come and see! Benevolent World Hall is a big shop that bullies its customers! They said the blood-staunching herb cost three qian, but I weighed it again at home and it was half a qian short! Isn't that stealing our hard-earned money?"
Lin Wan's face flushed with anger, her chest heaving as she argued, "Zhao the Scabby, don't you dare slander me! I weighed it out properly, not a single qian short. You're clearly trying to extort us!"
But Zhao the Scabby played the rogue. He plopped down on the threshold of Benevolent World Hall, slapped his thigh, and wailed, "Oh, woe is me! Miss Lin's bullying me! She sold me fake medicine and shorted the weight, and now she won't admit it!"
"Neighbors, come judge this for yourselves!"
A number of neighbors had already gathered to watch.
They pointed and whispered among themselves.
Lin Qing furrowed his brows and strode over.
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