A Visit to the Doorstep

Walking through the dark, cramped alleyways of the slums, the stench was like a tangible filthy current, soaking the air until it became unnaturally clammy.

The muddy ground was slick and sodden, and puddles of sewage reflected the bleak moonlight in shattered, twisted fragments.

The rotten planks and broken eaves on either side jutted like interlocking canine teeth and leaned inward, squeezing the two walking side by side closer together, their sleeves occasionally brushing.

Chen Cheng and Hu Niu chatted idly about their childhood as they walked.

Chen Cheng had too many things filling his mind, so he could not help seeming somewhat distracted.

Hu Niu pursed her lips, her gaze drifting between Chen Cheng's expressionless profile and the endless darkness ahead.

It was as though she had other words lodged in her throat.

Yet they had already reached home, and the words that had churned in her heart all the way still never left her lips.

After saying goodbye, Chen Cheng returned home.

Though it was already late, he still assumed his stance. After regulating his breathing slightly, his Health-Preserving Taiji unfolded soundlessly like flowing water.

This had evidently become something he had to do every day. Even on the night he killed someone, he had not missed it.

Time was like loose sand that could not be held in one's palm. In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.

Two solid meals of meat every morning and evening had drained Chen Cheng's money like running water, yet they had also given unprecedented nourishment and replenishment to his body, which had long been worn dry and burned out.

His once stick-thin, empty frame had now gained a layer of lean yet sturdy muscle. Lines rose and fell across his shoulders, back, and arms. Though not obvious, all weakness had already faded away.

Accordingly, the training progress of both martial arts had greatly accelerated.

[Crouching Dragon Fist]: Beginner (298/300), Traits (None)

[Health-Preserving Taiji Fist]: Beginner (297/300), Traits (None), Limit Break (No)

In the corner, Chen Cheng could now steadily lift the hundred-jin stone locks one-handed, one in each hand, without disrupting his breathing.

And this weight was merely "relaxation" after training the Crouching Dragon Fist.

"Senior Brother Chen, it's time for lunch."

Beside him, Qiao Qiao set down a two-hundred-jin stone lock and blinked at him.

Her eyes were clear and bright, reflecting the daylight as well as Chen Cheng's silent figure training within it.

During this time, the little girl's Crouching Dragon Fist had advanced by leaps and bounds. Fatty Fang no longer had much to teach her and simply let her train on her own.

And ever since Chen Cheng had wholeheartedly guided her that time, she had "stuck" to him.

Wherever Chen Cheng went, she went. Whatever Chen Cheng practiced, she practiced. She was like a quiet yet stubborn little tail.

"Mm. You go ahead."

Chen Cheng answered casually and continued lifting the stone locks.

Qiao Qiao obediently nodded, pursed her lips, then turned and jogged toward the kitchen.

Ever since that day, she had helped Chen Cheng serve and cool his breakfast and lunch in advance every day.

After Chen Cheng finished eating, she would rush to wash and put away his bowls and chopsticks.

Chen Cheng had declined twice at first, but he could not outstubborn her. Gradually, he simply accepted it.

And after Fatty Fang saw this, he promptly began investing in this talented young girl, whose nature was pure and straightforward and who knew to repay kindness.

He not only cleaned out the side room next to his own and gave Qiao Qiao a place to live alone.

He also paid out of his own pocket to buy Qiao Qiao fitted new training clothes and cloth shoes. Sometimes, he even gave her meat and nourishing medicinal soup.

There was not a single disciple in the courtyard who did not envy her, yet no one dared question it.

In Fatty Fang's own words, this was how geniuses were treated! Anyone dissatisfied could step forward and compete! Whoever could beat Qiao Qiao would receive the exact same treatment!

"Senior Brother Shi, let's eat."

Only after Chen Cheng completed another set of twelve repetitions did he put down the stone locks.

Not far away, Shi Lei finished his stance. With his usual carefree, cynical look on his face, he walked over and headed for the kitchen with Chen Cheng.

During this period, Shi Lei's appetite had suddenly surged, and his body had grown far sturdier than before. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged, stretching his old clothes taut.

However, after what happened at the standoff, his big mouth had suddenly fallen silent.

Chen Cheng had asked twice, but Shi Lei had always laughed it off and changed the subject.

The only thing Chen Cheng could be certain of was that Ma Zhao had never appeared again after that day.

Shi Lei had also completely broken with Wang Han and the others, never exchanging another word with them.

"Senior Brother Chen, someone is looking for you. He said his surname is Zhang, and that he's come before."

During the break after lunch, a disciple who had only recently joined ran over to relay the message.

"Mm, all right."

Chen Cheng nodded with a smile, then rose and walked over.

When he pushed open the heavy wooden gate, he saw Zhang Ping standing outside. His eyes shifted evasively, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked as though he had done something unforgivably shameful.

"Steward Zhang? What can I do for you?"

Chen Cheng looked puzzled.

"N-no, not me..."

Zhang Ping sharply sucked in a breath and slowly shifted his gaze to the side.

Chen Cheng's heart tightened. He stepped over the threshold, only then seeing a heavily imposing, bearded man standing beside the courtyard gate, with three young men behind him.

Chen Cheng recognized all four of them.

Those three young men were Black Wolf Gang lackeys who lived in the same small courtyard as Laitou.

The man was Zhao Shan, one of Yongsheng Trading Firm's Martial Artist guards!

He said nothing, merely standing there with his hands behind his back. His pitch-black eyes stared heavily toward Chen Cheng, as if two sharp blades were shooting from them, intending to pierce him through completely.

At that instant, Zhang Ping and the three lackeys all became like quails with their necks gripped tight, trembling and nearly suffocating.

For a moment, even the wind passing through the alley seemed to stagnate.

Chen Cheng felt as though a mountain were pressing down upon his heart.

In the past, he would probably have been frightened limp and collapsed to the ground.

But now, he was able to steady his mind, his expression neither servile nor overbearing.

"Guard Zhao, you were looking for me?"

"Come with me."

Zhao Shan slowly spoke, his deep and vigorous voice carrying an unquestionable pressure.

"Where to?"

Chen Cheng feigned confusion.

"Master Zhao told you to move, so move! Why all the damn questions?"

Behind Zhao Shan, a huge lackey with a face full of flesh stepped forward and reached out, intending to grab Chen Cheng by the collar.

In his eyes, Chen Cheng had practiced martial arts for barely over a month. At best, he was only slightly stronger than a mud-legged peasant.

Meanwhile, he had spent years on the streets. His brute strength was no boast. Taking down Chen Cheng would be child's play, would it not?

Whoosh! Crack!

Yet in the next instant.

Chen Cheng's right hand shot out like lightning, his five fingers curved into a claw as they accurately seized the pulse gate on the other man's wrist.

"Dragon Tooth Nail!?"

Zhao Shan recognized at a glance that Chen Cheng's move was a grappling technique from the Crouching Dragon Fist.

Five fingers like dragon teeth nailed down the opponent's joints, tendons, and pulse gates... Those struck could scarcely break free. Even if they were not crippled, they would be stripped of a layer of skin.

"Argh..."

The huge lackey let out a pig-slaughtering scream.

He could clearly feel as though several iron spikes had been driven into his wrist joint. Pain drilled deep into his hand and forearm, while his bones let out a teeth-grating crack.

It was as though... Chen Cheng might snap and rip his hand straight off at the wrist at any moment.

The Crouching Dragon Fist emphasized grappling and locking first, Crouching Force afterward.

The huge lackey's feeling was not wrong at all.

With Chen Cheng's current strength, if he hardened his heart and used Dragon Chant to mobilize the combined force of his organs, activating the Crouching Force accumulated throughout his body, tearing off that claw of a hand was not impossible!

Seeing this, the other two lackeys turned pale with fright and staggered back again and again.

Zhang Ping dropped onto the ground on his backside and scrambled farther away.

"Master Zhao, save me... broken... my hand is broken..."

The moment the huge lackey struggled, pain in his wrist made his vision spin and half his body go numb. He could only beg Zhao Shan for help.

Zhao Shan did not move to intervene immediately. He merely stared coldly at Chen Cheng.

This brat had truly practiced martial arts for only a month?

That move just now had been precise and seasoned, nearly instinctive! Such results should only come from years of patient, water-polishing effort, honed bit by bit!

A trace of extremely subtle surprise flashed through Zhao Shan's deep-pool eyes.

He actually could not quite... see through Chen Cheng.

"Brat, don't force me to make a move myself!"

Zhao Shan steadied himself, his tone cold and forceful.

So what if he could not see through him? No matter how much one talked, he, Zhao Shan, was a true Martial Artist who had condensed One-Incense Blood Qi!

So long as Chen Cheng had not crossed that heavenly chasm, he would ultimately be no different from an ant before him!

"I'll count to three..."

Zhao Shan stepped forward half a pace, and the condensed Blood Qi within him suddenly surged.

His entire person resembled a ferocious beast about to leave its cage. The surrounding air was pressed by an invisible force until it became stagnant and heavy.

"Junior Brother Chen, you're fighting and didn't call me? Are we even brothers anymore?"

A lazy, drawling voice suddenly cut in.

Shi Lei swaggered out from the courtyard, leaning crookedly against the doorframe with his arms folded. His usual unruly, roguish grin hung on his face, but his gaze was already fixed on Zhao Shan.

Almost at the same time, faint footsteps sounded from the other side.

At some unknown point, Qiao Qiao had silently come to stand beside Chen Cheng. She said nothing, but had quietly assumed the opening stance of the Crouching Dragon Fist.

"Heh."

Zhao Shan swept a cold glance over the flippant youth with cropped hair and the frail girl with withered yellow hair, and was actually angered into a sneer.

"Have you even been weaned, and you're already pretending to be heroes? You really don't take me, Zhao Shan, seriously at all!"

"Zhao Shan, was it?"

A solid, round figure appeared soundlessly within the shadows inside the courtyard gate.

The moment that excessively broad body appeared, it seemed to fill the entire doorframe, its shadow nearly enveloping Chen Cheng and the other two.

"May I ask who you are?"

Zhao Shan's heart clenched. His tone immediately restrained itself, almost suppressed.

"Longshan Middle Academy, Fang Wenhou."

Those seven plain words struck Zhao Shan's heart like seven boulders crashing to the ground.

His pupils abruptly contracted. After sucking in a breath, he hastily nodded, bowed, and cupped his fists in salute.

"So you are an outstanding disciple of Dragon Mountain Hall's Middle Academy. My apologies, my apologies!"

After steadying himself, Zhao Shan hurriedly explained.

"I am Zhao Shan. I came uninvited today and truly did not intend to disturb your hall's peace... It is only because Chen Cheng is suspected of murdering a close nephew of mine... This blood debt..."

"Where is the evidence?"

Fatty Fang could not be bothered to let him finish. He shifted forward, blocking Zhao Shan from Chen Cheng like a small mountain.

His build was actually a full size larger than the already brawny Zhao Shan. With his eyelids drooping, he looked down at Zhao Shan, his fair, round face full of irritation.

"E-evidence..."

"No evidence, then get lost! Don't force me to make a move myself!"

The fat on Fatty Fang's face trembled, and his eyes instantly turned icy enough to pierce bone.

"This... sigh..."

Zhao Shan clenched his teeth hard. His chest heaved violently several times, but in the end, he could only swallow all his unwillingness and fury back into his belly.

He heavily cupped his fists toward Fatty Fang once more, squeezing out two words through gritted teeth.

"...Farewell!"

"What the hell was that? Go home and eat shit!"