Chu Ming turned slightly and looked toward the doorway.
Outside the courtyard stood a man with sharp ears and a rat-like face.
"Third Young Master." Qin Gui spotted Chu Ming as well.
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He bowed slightly in greeting, masking the contempt deep in his eyes exceptionally well.
Chu Ming gave him an indifferent glance, then continued reading his travel journal.
Steward Fang, Xiao Shan, and Qin Gui all froze for a moment.
Usually, when his monthly allowance of three taels arrived, wouldn't the young master snatch it up and spend two taels on travel journals?
Today, he didn't seem to care at all?
"Young master, I'm speaking to you." Qin Gui tried to greet him again, but got no response.
He laughed awkwardly, then turned to Steward Fang and Xiao Shan. "Steward Fang, the 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 there's also the matter of Xiao Shan..."
"Get out!"
"Right away."
Qin Gui turned with a bow, but his eyes instantly turned vicious.
"The Third Young Master can actually stand again. Looks like medicine alone won't meet the Madam's expectations..."
Dusk.
Chu Ming drank the meat porridge Xiao Shan had brought him. It contained some medicinal herbs, and a healthy flush gradually returned to his face.
His eyes shone exceptionally brightly as he stared intently ahead.
[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry Level)]
[Progress: 1/100]
"I actually... really ground out a martial art..."
That afternoon, after practicing at random for a few more hours, a new prompt had appeared on the panel—and it was the martial art he'd been yearning for all these days.
"A palm technique..."
Chu Ming mused silently. The panel had added an explanation for [Wind-Slapping Palm]. It was indeed a palm technique, but it had only one move: slap out with a wind-splitting palm...
"Better than knowing nothing. At least I've finally learned a martial art..."
"Let's give it a try."
He slapped at the air.
[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]
His progress increased.
[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]
[Wind-Slapping Palm: +1]
[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry Level)]
[Progress: 20/100]
After practicing for half a day, he'd finally reached twenty.
He forced himself through more than twenty repetitions despite his fatigue, but his frail body warned him again. He could only stop for now.
The next day.
After eating an early breakfast with extra meat, Chu Ming began practicing [Wind-Slapping Palm] in the courtyard.
"Young master, what is he...?" Xiao Shan watched from a distance, not daring to approach.
The day before, she'd been worried sick watching the young master slap at the air in his room. He'd rested only briefly after sweating through his clothes, then continued. Why was he at it again today?
"Grandpa Fang, the young master didn't even read his travel journal today. He's been out in the courtyard clapping his hands since early morning..."
Xiao Shan saw Steward Fang approaching and hurriedly spoke in a low voice.
The young master was frail. How could he withstand such exertion? She'd gently tried to talk him out of it several times, but he wouldn't listen.
At her words, Steward Fang's expression changed at once. "Hurry and make him stop."
"I tried, but he wouldn't listen..." Xiao Shan said, aggrieved.
"He wouldn't listen?" Steward Fang raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you hold him back?"
"Don't you know how frail the young master is? At this rate, forget six months—he might not even last half a month!"
"Ah, I'll go right now!"
Xiao Shan's eyes immediately reddened.
A few days earlier, the young master had fallen seriously ill. The physician in town had diagnosed him with a weak constitution and damaged foundations. He had, at most, six months to live.
"Young master, would you like some water?"
"Sure. I am a little thirsty."
Chu Ming stopped slapping and glanced at the panel.
[Wind-Slapping Palm (Entry Level)]
[Progress: 65/100]
Not bad. He'd ground out twenty-five progress points in one morning, much better than the day before.
"Young master, would you like to read your travel journal?" Xiao Shan took the opportunity to persuade him as he drank, trying to distract him.
"Travel journal? No, I won't read it."
He'd already memorized the travel journals. [Reading] didn't raise his progress much, so there was no need to read them again.
Chu Ming shook his slightly sore arms. He couldn't grind any more this morning. If he kept slapping, he'd wreck himself.
"Young master, then shall Xiao Shan help you to the pleasure quarters to listen to music?"
"Where are you going to find pleasure quarters open this early in the morning?"
And why did she say "help"?
Chu Ming looked at Xiao Shan's slightly reddened eyes and seemed to understand.
"Steward Fang, I heard Mother say that when you were young, your fist technique was so formidable that no one in the Chu Estate dared stand up to you."
"The Madam flatters me." Steward Fang bowed toward empty space. "That was decades ago. It's not worth mentioning."
"Why don't you show us a few moves, then?" Chu Ming continued.
Steward Fang gently shook his head. "I'm old now, no longer up to it. Please don't make things difficult for this old servant, young master."
"That's right, young master. Grandpa Fang... Steward Fang is old. His legs aren't so nimble..."
Who said his legs weren't nimble?!
The corner of Steward Fang's mouth twitched. His expression remained unchanged, but he grew increasingly puzzled.
His young master had never been interested in martial arts, and they hadn't spoken much over the years. If he hadn't promised to protect the young master until the end, to repay the Madam for saving his life, he would have left this nest of trouble long ago.
Yet ever since the young master had woken from his serious illness, he'd found new ways every day to ask about martial artists. It was truly strange.
Did the young master want to practice martial arts?
That couldn't be. In more than ten years, he'd never shown the slightest interest in training.
Besides, with the young master's current condition, even walking too far could drain his life force. Never mind practicing martial arts.
"All right." Chu Ming waved a hand.
He'd tried every direct and indirect approach over the past few days, but the old steward refused to tell him anything about martial arts. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had to mess around with his own practice...
This world had extraordinary powers. Ordinary martial artists were comparable to top athletes from his previous life, while the more powerful ones could shatter stone tablets and rocks with their bare hands. There were even mighty experts capable of moving mountains and overturning seas.
The travel journals had mentioned such things, and the founding emperor of the Great Qin Dynasty had been one such powerhouse.
"Oh, right. Please take the travel journals in my room and sell them for me. Use the money to buy some books of poetry and prose." Chu Ming walked to the doorway, then suddenly turned back and said.
His monthly allowance had arrived, but those few taels of silver needed to go toward improving his meals. If he used them to buy books, wouldn't he just end up like the original owner?
"Huh?" Xiao Shan froze. "Y-Young master, you want to sell your travel journals?"
"Right. Is that not possible?"
"No, young master, are you sure? Those travel journals are yours..."
"As long as they sell," Chu Ming said. "Today, if possible. It's rather urgent."
After he went inside, Steward Fang and Xiao Shan looked at each other.
"Grandpa Fang, did I hear that right? The young master didn't ask for his monthly allowance to buy travel journals or storybooks. Instead, he wants to sell his favorite travel journals and exchange them for poetry and prose books that'll put anyone to sleep?"
"Don't talk about the young master like that."
"Also, who did you say had clumsy legs?"
Steward Fang tapped Xiao Shan on the nose, but inwardly, he couldn't calm down.
The young master had only recently recovered from a serious illness. A few days ago, he'd indirectly asked about martial artists, and today he'd practiced a palm technique... Or it could be called a palm technique, at least.
In his eyes, that set of moves looked like a child playing around.
He didn't want his allowance, wouldn't read travel journals, and now even wanted to sell them for books of poetry and prose?!
The more Steward Fang thought about it, the more puzzled he became.
Was this really the Third Young Master he'd watched grow up, the one who'd only ever cared about indulging himself?
"Xiao Shan, Grandpa Fang thinks the young master has changed, too."
"Right?"
"It must be the Madam watching over him from heaven. The young master has finally come around!" Xiao Shan said.
Was the Madam watching over him from heaven?
The wrinkles on Steward Fang's face creased.
Should he teach the young master martial arts?
The thought flashed through his mind, then he quietly shook his head.
The young master's foundations were damaged. Practicing martial arts would only accelerate the loss of his life force. It would be no different from poisoning him. He couldn't do that.
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