Grinding Out Martial Skills

Chu Ming turned slightly to look toward the doorway.

Standing outside the courtyard was a man with sharp ears and monkey-like cheeks.

"Third Young Master." Qin Gui noticed Chu Ming at this moment.

He bowed slightly to offer a salute, the disdain deep within his eyes hidden remarkably well.

Chu Ming cast a cold glance at him before continuing to read his travelogue.

Steward Fang, Xiao Shan, and Qin Gui were all momentarily stunned.

In the past, whenever the three taels of monthly allowance were delivered, wouldn't the young master impatiently snatch away two taels to buy travelogues?

Today, he didn't seem to care much at all?

"Young Master, are you reading?" Qin Gui tried to greet him again, but received no response.

He offered an awkward smile and turned to Steward Fang and Xiao Shan: "Steward Fang, the First Madam asked me to pass on a message. Business has been poor lately, so the Third Young Master's monthly allowance will be reduced from three taels to two."

"And regarding the matter of Xiao Shan..."

"Get out!"

"Right away."

Qin Gui bowed and turned around, but his eyes instantly turned sinister.

The Third Young Master is actually still able to stand. It seems that just using medicine isn't enough to meet the Madam's requirements...

Dusk.

Chu Ming finished the meat porridge Xiao Shan had brought him, which contained some medicinal herbs, and a healthy flush gradually appeared on his face.

His eyes were exceptionally bright as he stared fixedly ahead.

[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry)]

[Progress: 1/100]

To think, I actually managed to grind out a martial art...

After practicing aimlessly for a few hours in the afternoon, a new prompt had appeared on the panel—and it was the very martial art he had been longing for all these days.

A palm technique...

Chu Ming pondered in his heart. The panel provided a description of [Wind-Slapping Palm]; it was indeed a palm technique, but it consisted of only one move: slapping out with the wind...

It's better than knowing nothing at all. At least I've finally mastered a martial art...

Let's give it a try.

He slapped out at the air.

[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]

The progress increased.

[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]

[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]

[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry)]

[Progress: 20/100]

After practicing for a full half-day, the progress had reached 20.

Forcing himself to endure the fatigue, he had practiced over twenty times, but his weak body began to sound warnings, and he had no choice but to stop for the time being.

The next day.

After eating his morning porridge with extra meat, Chu Ming began practicing [Wind-Slapping Palm] in the courtyard.

What is the Young Master doing...? Xiao Shan watched from afar, not daring to approach.

Her heart had been in her throat since yesterday, watching the young master slapping at the air in his room, resting only for a moment when he was drenched in sweat before continuing again. Why was he starting up again today?

"Steward Fang, the Young Master hasn't even looked at his travelogues today; he's been clapping his hands in the courtyard since early morning..."

Seeing Steward Fang approach, Xiao Shan hurried over to whisper.

The young master's body was frail; how could it withstand such exertion? She had already tried to persuade him carefully several times, but he wouldn't listen.

Upon hearing this, Steward Fang's expression changed instantly: "Quickly, make the Young Master stop."

"I tried, but the Young Master won't listen..." Xiao Shan said, feeling aggrieved.

"He won't listen?" Steward Fang raised an eyebrow. "Can't you just pull him away?"

"Don't you know how weak the Young Master's body is? If he keeps practicing like this, let alone half a year, he might not even survive another half a month!"

"Ah, I'll go right away!"

Xiao Shan's eyes turned red the moment she heard him.

A few days ago, the young master had fallen gravely ill. The town physician had diagnosed him with a weak constitution and damaged foundations, claiming he had at most half a year left to live.

"Young Master, would you like a drink of water?"

"Yes, I am indeed a bit thirsty."

Chu Ming stopped his Wind-Slapping Palm and glanced at his panel.

[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry)]

[Progress: 65/100]

Not bad; he had ground out 25 points of progress in a single morning, which was much better than yesterday.

"Young Master, would you like to read some travelogues?" Xiao Shan suggested while he drank, trying to divert his attention.

"Travelogues? No, I've seen enough."

He had already memorized the contents of those books, and [Reading] didn't grant much progress, so there was no need to look at them again.

Chu Ming shook out his sore, aching arms. He couldn't grind any more this morning; if he kept slapping, he'd fall apart.

"Young Master, shall I help you over to the pleasure house to listen to some music?"

"What pleasure house is open in the middle of the morning?"

Besides, why did she have to use the word "help"?

Chu Ming looked at Xiao Shan's slightly reddened eyes and seemed to understand something.

"Steward Fang, I heard from Mother that when you were young, your fist techniques were so formidable that no one in the entire Chu Estate dared to challenge you?"

"The Madam is too kind," Steward Fang bowed to the empty air. "That was decades ago; it's not worth mentioning."

"Would you mind showing me a move or two?" Chu Ming continued.

Steward Fang shook his head gently. "I am old and useless now, Young Master. Please do not make things difficult for this old servant."

"That's right, Young Master. Grandpa Fang... Steward Fang is old, and his legs and feet aren't what they used to be..."

Whose legs and feet aren't what they used to be?!

Steward Fang's mouth twitched. His expression remained unchanged, but his heart grew increasingly suspicious.

His young master had never shown any interest in martial arts since childhood, and they had rarely interacted. If not for the debt of gratitude he owed the Madam for saving his life—and his promise to protect this young master until the end—he would have left this place of trouble long ago.

However, ever since the young master woke up from his great illness, he had been finding ways to ask about martial artists every single day. It was truly strange.

Could the young master want to practice martial arts?

That shouldn't be right; for over a decade, he had never seen the young master show even the slightest inclination toward it.

Moreover, with the young master's current body, let alone practicing martial arts, even walking too much could potentially exhaust his life force.

"Fine then." Chu Ming waved his hand.

He had tried both direct and subtle approaches over the past few days, but this old steward refused to say a single word about martial arts. Otherwise, he wouldn't have to fumble through practicing on his own...

This world possessed extraordinary power. Ordinary martial artists were comparable to the top athletes of his previous life, while more powerful ones could shatter stone tablets with their bare hands, and there were even supreme experts capable of moving mountains and draining seas.

It wasn't just mentioned in the travelogues; the founding emperor of the Great Qin Dynasty had been just such an expert.

"Oh, right. Please help me take those travelogues in my room and sell them. Use the money to buy some poetry and books instead," Chu Ming said as he walked to the door, suddenly turning back.

Although the monthly allowance had already been delivered, those few taels of silver were needed to improve his diet. If he spent them on books, wouldn't he be just like the original owner?

"Ah?" Xiao Shan was stunned. "You... Young Master, you want to sell your travelogues?"

"Yes, can they not be sold?"

"No, Young Master, did I hear you correctly? Aren't those travelogues your..."

"As long as they can be sold, that's fine," Chu Ming said. "Do it today; it's quite urgent."

Once he entered the room, Steward Fang and Xiao Shan locked eyes.

"Grandpa Fang, I didn't mishear, did I? Not only did the young master not ask for his allowance to buy more travelogues or storybooks, but he actually wants to sell his favorites to exchange them for poetry books that make you sleepy just looking at them?"

"How can you talk about the young master like that?"

"Also, who did you say had bad legs and feet just now?"

Steward Fang flicked Xiao Shan on the nose, though his own heart was far from calm.

The young master had just recovered from a major illness, had been probing him about martial artists for the past few days, and today, he was practicing palm techniques... if one could call it that.

In his eyes, that set of palm techniques looked like a child playing around.

He didn't want his allowance, he wouldn't read his travelogues, and now he even wanted to sell them for poetry books?!

The more Steward Fang thought about it, the more suspicious he became.

Was this really the Third Young Master he had watched grow up, the one who only cared about indulgence?

"Xiao Shan, Grandpa Fang also feels that the young master has changed."

"Right!"

"It must be the Madam's spirit in heaven; the Young Master has finally seen the light!" Xiao Shan said.

Is the Madam's spirit truly in heaven?

The wrinkles on Steward Fang's face folded together.

Should he teach the Young Master martial arts?

This thought flashed through his mind, but he immediately shook his head in secret.

The Young Master's foundation was damaged; practicing martial arts would only accelerate the depletion of his vitality, which would be no different from poisoning him. He could not bring himself to do it.