Talent

No matter how late it was these past few days, Madam Li always waited for Chen Cheng to come home.

She lay in bed all night, saving what little strength she had and warming the bedding a little with her body.

Only when she saw her son enter and slide the wooden bolt into place did the breath caught in her throat slowly settle back into her stomach.

"Xiao Cheng, there's still some fish and shrimp congee in the pot. It's gone cold. Let Mother heat it up for you before you eat."

In the dim little room, Madam Li could not make out Chen Cheng's expression, much less the scattered bloodstains on him.

"Mother, I'll handle it myself. Don't get up."

Chen Cheng's voice was calm, with no trace of anything unusual.

He walked to the broken wooden chest in the corner and pulled out an even older, more tattered set of clothes to change into.

He rolled up the clothes he had taken off and stuffed them into the little stove's firebox, struck a flint, and set them alight.

"Why are you burning your clothes?"

Madam Li pushed herself up, worried.

"...I did a job that made money. The profits were fat, but it dirtied my hands. Remember, don't tell anyone. Just pretend none of this ever happened."

Chen Cheng lowered his voice. When he finished, he gently placed three strings of copper coins into Madam Li's withered hand.

"This... you..."

Madam Li's hand jerked as if she had been burned, and the copper coins clattered onto the ragged bedding.

She did not pick them up. Both hands fumbled frantically through the darkness, urgently feeling along her son's arms, shoulders, and chest.

"Mother, I'm fine. I wasn't hurt at all... and there won't be a next time."

Chen Cheng soothed her softly.

Madam Li had wanted to press him for the truth, but in the end, she said nothing.

The work at Red Moon Nunnery had already stopped, yet the Black Wolf Gang had not said a word about lowering the Peace Tax.

If they did not find some way to make money, they simply could not go on living like this.

Not to mention that Chen Cheng still owed the Martial Hall tuition.

Madam Li knew better than anyone how hard it was for ants at the bottom of society to earn money cleanly in this world.

Her son wanted to live. He wanted to climb upward... What was wrong with that?

Over the years in Bitter Locust Village, among those who had managed to struggle their way up, whose hands had not been stained with something unclean?

Scar Bear had climbed out of a mountain of corpses with a machete in hand in his early years. Xiao Long... it was said he had also taken a life before earning his chance to practice martial arts.

Madam Li naturally knew those were not righteous paths.

But when had the righteous path ever been meant for the ants of Bitter Locust Village to walk?

The deed was already done. Digging any deeper would only add to the turmoil.

The most important thing now was to keep her own mouth shut and never bring even the slightest trouble upon her son.

Once Madam Li made up her mind, she stopped wavering.

She hurriedly got up, carefully separated the three strings of copper coins, and tucked them into several hidden corners of the room known only to her.

The next day, dawn had only just begun to break.

Chen Cheng sat down before a steaming food stall in Peaceful Lane. He spent a full thirty copper coins on a large bowl of white congee covered in a thick layer of sauce-braised pork.

The braised meat was streaked with fat and lean, glistening with oil. The congee was exceptionally thick, its fragrance of rice spilling everywhere. In this life's memories, both flavors had long since blurred and faded.

When the first mouthful of piping-hot congee mixed with meat juices slid down his throat, and his stomach answered with a warmth and satisfaction almost like a reflex, a cold, crystal-clear thought crashed into his mind again.

There was only a dead end in enduring hardship. Only by eating people could one ascend to the Great Luo Heaven!

He slowly chewed the soft, fragrant chunks of meat, feeling the heavy drag of the money pouch against his chest.

After giving his mother three strings of copper coins, he still had a hundred and sixty or seventy loose coins, along with thirteen large blade coins worth a hundred each.

This enormous sum, enough to make anyone in the slums see red with envy, would at least let him eat meat properly and improve over the coming month, supporting more intense martial training.

He arrived at the Martial Hall.

As usual, Chen Cheng first drank a bowl of coarse-rice congee and finished an entire gray-flour flatbread as large as a washbasin.

After adjusting his breathing for a moment, he spread his stance and began tempering the Crouching Dragon Fist.

Quite some time later, Shi Lei, Wang Han, and the others gradually entered the training yard.

Chen Cheng caught sight of them from afar and saw that they were all injured.

Shi Lei had a bruise on his forehead, while Wang Han's left leg visibly dragged as he walked.

The moment they entered, Fatty Fang shot out of the side room like a giant ball and unleashed a furious torrent of abuse right in their faces.

The few of them were cursed until their heads drooped and their spirits wilted, trembling all over.

Wang Han, who had always considered himself the senior disciple, even dropped to his knees and repeatedly kowtowed, begging for mercy.

Chen Cheng stood too far away to hear the exact reason. He only knew Ma Zhao had never shown up.

From the look of things, it was most likely connected to Ma Zhao.

As Chen Cheng's thoughts turned, the flow of his fists did not falter in the slightest. Every move was smooth and precise, almost instinctive.

It was as though thinking about other matters and tempering his fist art had become two systems running side by side without interfering with one another.

"Chen... Chen Senior Brother... I have some questions. I'd like... to ask for your guidance..."

A voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz, carrying a trace of timidity, suddenly came from beside him.

Chen Cheng turned to look.

It was the girl who had arrived yesterday, Qiao Qiao.

Her twig-like fingers twisted the loose, frayed sleeves of her clothes. Her tiny body shrank back slightly as she looked up at him, her bright black eyes full of unease and hope.

"...Me? You want my guidance?"

Chen Cheng was a little surprised.

"Mhm!"

Qiao Qiao nodded hard. "Senior Brother Fang said he wouldn't have time to look after me today... He told me that if there was anything I didn't understand, I should... should come ask you."

So that was what Fatty Fang had been waiting for.

Chen Cheng cursed inwardly.

Although Fatty Fang neither hit nor scolded him on ordinary days and occasionally even praised him, he had never given Chen Cheng any real benefits.

Now that he needed Chen Cheng to put in effort, he was not polite in the least, directly dumping the burden onto him.

Luckily, Chen Cheng could now split his mind in two. Otherwise, who would compensate him for the training progress this delayed?

"Fine."

Chen Cheng nodded. His voice was even, and his face revealed neither pleasure nor anger.

"Practice the fist art with me today. Ask directly if there's anything you don't understand."

"Mhm! Thank you, Chen Senior Brother!"

Qiao Qiao nodded hard again, doing her best to look obedient.

The two then practiced the Crouching Dragon Fist together. Qiao Qiao often asked questions, and Chen Cheng did not hold anything back, giving her wholehearted guidance.

Chen Cheng knew that Fatty Fang would certainly personally train Qiao Qiao in the future.

There was no point in hiding things now. It would only make him seem petty. He might as well make this favor solid and form a good connection.

Qiao Qiao truly had exceptional comprehension. Many key points clicked the moment they were explained.

Even rarer, her natural foundation was indeed first-rate. The sluggish tendons, stiff joints, and weak flesh commonly seen when ordinary people tempered the Crouching Dragon Fist were nowhere to be found in her.

Even the astonishing drain the Crouching Dragon Fist imposed on stamina and physique was not particularly obvious on her. Though sweat poured down like rain, she showed little of the bedraggled strain of barely holding on.

By the end of the morning, while giving her guidance and watching coldly from the side, Chen Cheng felt bitterness and emotion rise in his heart more than once...

Before a talent monster, even a king of grinding was truly nothing but a clown.

Yet Chen Cheng's state of mind was not affected in the slightest.

He had the Vertical Eye Mark as his safety net. His martial realm and progress were fixed in the form of panel values. There were no bottlenecks, and he would never regress.

Though his progress was slow for now, as long as he held steady and did not collapse, growing stronger was an inevitable matter of water flowing into its channel.

Flowing water did not contend to be first. What it contended for was an endless, surging torrent!

After lunch.

Qiao Qiao rushed to help Chen Cheng wash the bowls.

Chen Cheng went over to check on Shi Lei's condition.

Shi Lei was in terrible spirits. Curled up in a corner, he would neither eat nor speak of what had happened last night.

Chen Cheng offered a few words of comfort, then quietly withdrew on his own.

That afternoon.

Anping Lane, Chen Family Old Residence.

A stifling, salty tang hung in the pickled-vegetable shop.

Old Chen and his eldest son Chen Yong were dozing crookedly in old chairs behind the counter, their heads bobbing up and down. Flies crawled over their faces, yet they could not even be bothered to raise a hand and shoo them away.

"Father! Big Brother! Great news!"

Third Uncle Chen An rushed into the shop in three strides made into two. Excitement reddened his gaunt, dark face, and his voice cracked.

"What are you yelling for? Did the sky fall?"

Old Chen jolted awake and snapped irritably.

Chen Yong also wriggled his body and slowly opened his bleary eyes.

"Xiao Cheng! It's Xiao Cheng!"

Chen An had not even caught his breath as he gestured and spoke.

"He joined Dragon Mountain Martial Hall! I just went to bring his family some food, and Second Sister-in-law told me herself! It's absolutely true!"

At those words, Old Chen's face immediately darkened.

"That unfilial beast doesn't even acknowledge his ancestors anymore. Why are you bringing him up? Whether he soars to the heavens or burrows into the earth, he has nothing to do with our Chen family—not half a copper coin's worth!"

"Father, you can't put it that way."

Chen An knew Old Chen's temper and deliberately said what he wanted to hear.

"Dragon Mountain Hall! It's one of Zhao City's renowned great Martial Halls! Ordinary people could crack their heads trying to get in and still fail!"

"Isn't Xiao Cheng joining it bringing honor to our Chen family? In the future, besides A-Hao, won't our family have one more hope?"

"This..."

Old Chen grumbled in his throat, and his expression visibly eased.

Chen An continued, "You should stop being angry with Xiao Cheng. Later, I'll go talk to him and have him come kowtow to you and admit his mistake. Family feuds shouldn't last overnight!"

Before Old Chen could respond, Chen Yong gave a snort of laughter from the side.

"Third Brother, listen to yourself. Does entering a Martial Hall mean he'll definitely amount to something? That place is a tiger's maw that eats money! Poor scholars, rich martial artists—haven't you heard that saying?"

Chen Yong shot Chen An a sidelong glance and continued.

"What kind of family assets does Chen Cheng have? It's not as if you and I are blind. You're so poor your coins jingle, yet every few days you scrape out a little food to support him."

"His mother earns a few coppers doing laundry. What will he use to fill that bottomless pit of martial training? Drink the wind? Or chew mud?"

At that, Chen An opened his mouth, but was choked speechless for a moment.

He had not known before how much money martial training consumed. But lately, the entire Chen family had been supporting Chen Hao's martial training, spending money like flowing water. How could he not understand now?

Speaking honestly, when he first heard that Chen Cheng was practicing martial arts, his first reaction had been much the same as Chen Yong's. They could barely afford food, and he still wanted to train in martial arts? Wasn't that sheer nonsense?

Now, faced with Chen Yong's doubts, he naturally had nothing to say.

"Ahem, Eldest, say less."

Old Chen waved a hand and spoke heavily.

"No matter what, getting into a great Martial Hall brings honor to our family! Even if he cannot make anything of it, it's still better than wallowing in rotten mud..."

"As long as Chen Cheng is willing to admit his mistake, I... I'm not a man with a heart of stone."

"Grandfather."

A somewhat cool voice came from behind the small door beside the shop.

Chen Hao, dressed in a fitted green outfit, slowly walked out. His posture was straight, and he had begun to carry an imposing air wholly out of place in this old, low shop.

There was little expression on his face as his gaze swept over the three men inside.

"Third Uncle, Chen Cheng joined Dragon Mountain Hall's Lower Academy, didn't he?"

"A-Hao..."

Before this nephew, Chen An's presence unconsciously diminished.

"Yes, yes, the Lower Academy."

"Heh."

Chen Hao let out a disdainful sneer.

"I knew it. If it were the Middle Academy, even I might not be able to enter!"

"What's the difference?" Old Chen hurriedly asked.

Chen Hao said calmly, "Dragon Mountain Hall is indeed one of Zhao City's top great Martial Halls, several grades above the White Ape Hall where I train. But that only applies to Dragon Mountain Middle Academy and the Upper Academy!"

"The Lower Academy takes in nothing but lowly wretches who cannot survive. The moment they enter, they have to stake their lives on it and sign some... some contract, what was it called again..."

"Anyway, they only have half a year to live. If they cannot cultivate One-Incense Blood Qi within half a year, they will be sent to carry out all kinds of extremely dangerous missions! Until they finally fill the hole with their lives!"

"Hmph!"

Old Chen's face darkened again at once.

"I thought he was bringing honor to our family. After all that, it's just a lowly business of selling his life to scrape out a living!"

"Third Brother! Watch that mouth of yours! Don't go babbling nonsense everywhere! Aren't you ashamed enough already?"

At those words, all color drained from Chen An's face, replaced by an overwhelming worry.

"A-Hao... Xiao Cheng, then... does he truly have no chance at all? Would working harder help?"

"Third Uncle, martial training is not farming. Hard work alone is useless. To make something of it, you can never avoid natural foundation and resources!"

Chen Hao lifted the foot wearing a brand-new cloth shoe, then swept a cold glance over Chen An, like an adult looking down at an ignorant child.

"Even with a natural foundation like mine, the family has to grit its teeth and support me. I eat meat every day and have medicinal soup every month before I dare say I've touched the threshold."

"And even so, I wouldn't dare guarantee I'll succeed within half a year. As for Chen Cheng... heh."