Seek a Backer, Join a Martial Arts School

Lin Qing walked through the chaotic and noisy outer city.

The roads here were narrow and muddy, with sewage flowing freely.

Both sides were packed with low, dilapidated shanties, and the air was thick with a pungent, sour stench of sweat, urine, and decay.

Barefoot children played in the sludge, while clothes washed to a pale white hung on bamboo poles, dripping water onto the ground.

Yet, once one stepped into the inner city, the scene changed abruptly.

The streets, paved with bluestone, were wide and clean, lined with shops and bright, eye-catching signs.

The pedestrians were dressed much more decently, and one could even see wealthy residents traveling by sedan chair or carriage.

The lingering stench in the air had also faded.

In its place was a faint scent of sandalwood and the sweet aroma wafting from a pastry shop.

The difference between the inside and outside was like clouds and mud.

The Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall was located on a relatively quiet street in the inner city; its vermilion-painted gates were imposing, and two fierce stone lions crouched before them, possessing quite an air of authority.

Lin Qing straightened his somewhat plain clothes and stepped forward to knock on the door ring.

A small side door opened in response, and a sturdy man with broad shoulders and a narrow vest poked his head out, sizing Lin Qing up.

Seeing his ordinary attire, not like that of a wealthy young master, he asked in a rough voice, "What brings you here? Are you looking to apprentice? Do you have a referral?"

Lin Qing cupped his fists and, following his sister's instructions, said, "This Senior Brother, this humble one is Lin Qing. My late father, Lin Qing, was once a junior fellow apprentice of Master Hong. My family runs the Benevolent World Hall pharmacy, and I have come specifically to pay my respects to Master Hong."

When the man heard "Benevolent World Hall," a flicker of recognition seemed to cross his mind. He looked Lin Qing over once more and nodded, saying, "So you are the son of Physician Lin. Wait here; I will go inside and announce you."

With that, he closed the door and went in.

Before long, the side door opened again, and the man's attitude was much more courteous: "Young Master Lin, the Master will see you."

Lin Qing thanked him and followed him into the martial hall.

As soon as he stepped inside, a wave of scorching heat rushed toward him.

He saw more than a dozen sturdy men on the spacious training ground, their upper bodies bare, revealing knotted muscles.

They wore a dozen dark, heavy iron rings tightly around their forearms; as their punches rose and fell, the rings collided with a clanging, metallic sound.

These men were practicing their fist techniques with fierce, explosive movements. Every punch thrown carried a whistling wind, and the clashing of the iron rings on their arms only added to the momentum.

Their footwork was steady, and their shouts rose and fell like the tide, vibrating the eardrums and making the blood surge in response.

The overwhelming masculine energy made Lin Qing's heart tighten—this was the true atmosphere of a martial household!

At the edge of the field, an old man wearing a vest and short jacket, his temples gray, stood with his hands behind his back, slowly patrolling.

His figure was not tall, perhaps even slightly hunched, but standing there, he was like an ancient pine with deep roots. His aura was as heavy and steady as a mountain, and his eyes flashed with sharp light as they opened and closed, commanding respect without anger. This was the hall master, Hong Yuan.

The man who led the way brought Lin Qing before Hong Yuan and said respectfully, "Master, Young Master Lin has arrived."

Hong Yuan turned around, his gaze like lightning as it landed on Lin Qing, his voice booming like a bell: "You are Lin Qing's son?"

Lin Qing quickly bowed and saluted: "Junior Lin Qing pays his respects to Uncle Hong."

"My late father often mentioned that he learned much while training under Master Hong at the martial hall. He always said the Hong family's Iron Thread Fist was peerless in its ferocity, and that if one could learn even a single move, it would be enough to benefit them for a lifetime."

"Seeing the atmosphere of the martial hall today, I now know my father's words were not exaggerated."

Flattery is a universal language.

Hearing this, a trace of a smile appeared on Hong Yuan's stern, rigid face; he was clearly quite pleased by the sycophancy.

He waved his hand: "Why bring up old matters? Lin Qing was an honest man, but it is a pity he was conscripted as a military physician..."

"Speak, why have you come to see this old man today?"

Lin Qing straightened his back and said solemnly, "Master Hong, this junior wishes to join the martial hall to train and strengthen my body, so that I may better protect my family's business."

"Oh?"

Hong Yuan was somewhat surprised and looked him up and down.

"To learn martial arts, do you know the rules?"

"The tuition is five taels of silver per month, and that is only for the basics. If you want medicinal baths for body tempering, the cost of the herbs is extra."

"Given the current state of your Benevolent World Hall, can you afford it?"

Lin Qing stepped forward and lowered his voice: "Master Hong, as for the tuition, this junior has other arrangements."

"It is just that this junior carries a precious medicinal ingredient, and it is inconvenient to reveal it in front of others..."

Hong Yuan's brows rose, a flash of light in his eyes, and he laughed, his voice shaking the roof tiles: "In my Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall, with me here, what petty thief would dare harbor ill intentions? Go ahead and take it out!"

With those words, Lin Qing felt completely at ease.

He no longer hesitated, carefully taking the oil-paper parcel from his chest and peeling back the layers to reveal the dark, blood-red Red Blood Ganoderma with its swirling cloud patterns.

"Red Blood Ganoderma?"

Hong Yuan was, after all, a man of great experience; he recognized the item at a glance, and a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

"It looks like it's over thirty years old."

"Kid Lin, I never imagined your family would have such a fine treasure hidden away."

"Speak, what do you intend to do?"

Lin Qing replied respectfully, "Please, Master Hong, give me an estimate. How long would this cover my training at the martial arts hall?"

Hong Yuan picked up the Red Blood Ganoderma, examined it carefully for a moment, and mused, "The condition is excellent, the age is sufficient, and the medicinal properties have been well preserved. On the market, it would easily fetch thirty to forty taels of silver."

"If we calculate based on the monthly tuition of five taels, and waive your medicinal fees, it would be enough for you to train for over half a year."

A heavy stone lifted from Lin Qing's heart, but he wore a troubled expression, "Master Hong, to be honest, the shop has run into some trouble recently and is in urgent need of cash for turnover."

"I wonder if it would be possible to withdraw five taels in cash from the value of this item? Or, perhaps I could use this as collateral and gather other medicinal herbs required by the hall to offset the cost?"

Hong Yuan glanced at him without answering immediately; instead, he pulled a prescription from his robes and handed it to him, "Take a look. Can your shop provide the herbs listed here? Or do you have a way to acquire them?"

Lin Qing took the prescription and scanned it quickly.

Most of the items were herbs for strengthening bones, invigorating blood, and replenishing qi.

Several of them were exactly what his father used to prepare for the martial arts hall, while others were less common.

However, relying on his proficient knowledge of pharmacology, he knew he could acquire them from mountain folk at the market.

He nodded, "I have most of them. As for the missing ones, I am confident I can procure them before the next delivery."

Hearing this, a satisfied smile appeared on Hong Yuan's face, "Good. Since you have this intention, then it is settled. This Red Blood Ganoderma is valued at thirty-five taels, covering seven months of training, with all medicinal fees waived."

"As for the five taels of cash you need, we shall deduct it from the payment for the herbs you are to provide next month. How does that sound?"

Lin Qing was overjoyed and bowed deeply, "Thank you, Master Hong, for your kindness!"

Right then, both parties drew up a written agreement and finalized the terms of their cooperation.

Holding the document and clutching the deposit Hong Yuan had advanced him, Lin Qing walked out of the side hall, looked up at the rare patch of blue sky over Qingping County, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Life, at last, had a sense of direction.

He received a brand-new set of gray martial robes and a pair of sturdy, thick-soled cloth shoes from a senior disciple at the hall.

After changing into the new clothes and shoes, Lin Qing felt his entire spirit had been refreshed.

Subsequently, he was led before Hong Yuan for the pre-entry examination of his bone structure.

Hong Yuan's calloused palms pressed and kneaded his major joints and vital skeletal points, occasionally applying force to test him, and at other times focusing his senses.

Lin Qing felt a cold, driving force wandering through his body, causing a mix of soreness, numbness, and swelling, yet he dared not move a muscle.

A moment later, Hong Yuan withdrew his hands, stroked his graying short beard, and said indifferently, "Your bone structure is mediocre—not top-tier, but not inferior either. This is the aptitude of an ordinary person; seven or eight out of every ten martial artists in this world fall into this category."

"But you need not belittle yourself. On the path of martial arts, while bone structure is important, perseverance, temperament, and resources are even more critical."

"If you remain diligent and supplement your training with medicinal aids, there is great hope for you to break through to the second stage, the Tendon-Opening Realm."

Hearing this, Lin Qing felt little disappointment.

He was never a heaven-sent genius to begin with; having average aptitude was already good enough, not to mention he had the Heavenly Dao Record to assist him.

As long as his efforts yielded results, that was an advantage most people could never hope to attain.

He seized the opportunity to ask respectfully, "Master Hong, my knowledge of the realms of martial cultivation is limited. I humbly request your guidance."