Drill Kill

"A martial artist! He's become a martial artist!"

Chen An's voice went shrill with excitement. He hurriedly handed his things to Madam Bai to carry, wiped his hands on himself, then gave Chen Cheng's shoulder a heavy pat.

"Good, good, good! Cheng! Your Third Uncle truly never thought you'd make it too!"

"With A-Hao, our old Chen family now has two martial masters! From now on... we can finally see a little light in our days!!"

"Chen Hao became one too?" Chen Cheng asked casually.

"He should be close..."

Chen An rubbed his hands together.

"A-Hao has been training for seven or eight months. His father said he's only a tiny bit away from breaking through... The family is trying every possible way to scrape together money for Blood Refining Powder."

"Cheng is still more capable! You made it on your own without spending a single coin from the family!"

Madam Bai finally came to her senses. She understood what it meant to refine Blood Qi, and her face was full of excitement.

"Unlike A-Hao, who emptied out his parents' entire savings. Even the old man's coffin money was poured into him... Our family and Fourth's family have filled no small number of holes too..."

Chen Cheng said nothing, though a chill flashed through his eyes.

For Chen Hao's martial training, that family had done far more than empty their coffers. They had even seized the ten taels of reward silver his father had exchanged for with his life.

And Chen Hao had been training for over half a year. That meant not long after Father had been conscripted, the old man had already given Chen Hao the chance to train...

"Cheng, your Third Uncle won't go into the mountains tomorrow. Let's return to the old house together and tell your grandfather this tremendous good news properly. Once he's happy, he'll surely forgive you..."

Chen An beamed.

"Him? Forgive me?"

Chen Cheng's tone suddenly turned cold. "Third Uncle, there are some things you don't understand. But there's one thing you needn't doubt: when I said I would have nothing to do with that family for the rest of my life, I wasn't speaking in anger."

"...You." Chen An froze at once.

Madam Bai grew nervous as well. She could clearly feel that Chen Cheng's presence had changed.

"There's one more thing."

Chen Cheng took out a string of sixty copper coins threaded together with hemp rope and shoved it into Chen An's hands.

"I've already spoken to the Black Wolf Gang leader in charge of this area. This is the Peace Tax you just paid. I got it back for you. From now on, your family doesn't need to pay it anymore."

With that, Chen Cheng turned and left without looking back.

"Dear..."

Madam Bai clenched the heavy food in her hands, then looked at the copper coins in Chen An's hand and softly cautioned him.

"From now on, don't mention anything about the old house in front of Cheng... I'm afraid he'll misunderstand and think we aren't on the same side as him..."

Late at night.

By the time Zhao Shan and the others emerged from Red Jade Pavilion, the streets were already utterly deserted, without even a ghostly shadow in sight.

The wind was colder than it had been earlier in the night, sweeping scraps of paper and fallen leaves from who knew where into spirals through the cracks between the paving stones.

Zhao Shan's steps had begun to drift. His body reeked of the cloying mixture of rouge, powder, and sweat, while the cheap liquor filling his belly burned fiercely, wave after wave surging up his throat.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyelids heavy. Even the swaying lanterns in the distance seemed to have double images.

Sun Rang was in better shape than him, but his tongue was still tied. Arm over shoulder, the two staggered forward.

"Old Zhao... hic... that girl tonight... how was she? Tender or not? Big... or not?"

"...Mm, not bad..."

Zhao Shan answered vaguely, narrowing his eyes at the fork ahead.

"Enough... this is, this is it..."

"Old Zhao, can... can you make it back alone? Don't fall into a ditch..."

Sun Rang released him and shook his head, trying to see Zhao Shan's face clearly.

"Fuck... off!"

Zhao Shan slapped away the hand trying to support him and craned his neck stubbornly.

"I've traveled north and south... when have I ever fallen?"

"Fine, then take it slow... See you at the trading house tomorrow morning... Don't be late..."

Sun Rang chuckled twice, turned around, and hummed an off-key tune as he stumbled toward one side of the fork.

"Urgh..."

Zhao Shan stood where he was. When the cold wind blew over him, the alcohol and dizziness surged up even more violently.

He braced himself against the cold, rough earthen wall beside him and took a long while before barely suppressing the urge to vomit.

Behind him, Sun Rang's figure had long since been swallowed by darkness. Only a dog somewhere in the distance barked weakly twice before quickly falling silent again.

"Hiss—"

Without any warning, the hairs on the back of Zhao Shan's neck suddenly stood on end.

There was no time to turn around, not even time to think.

His instinct, honed through years of martial combat, made his drunken, weakened body burst forth with its last scrap of strength as he violently dodged left.

But he was still half a beat too slow.

A black shadow sprang from the darkness at the other fork, swift and silent, like a lone wolf hunting from the abyss.

All around was silent, save for the sharp, brief hiss of a fist tearing through the air.

A ferocious, peerless Crouching Dragon Seal smashed hard into the outside of Zhao Shan's hastily raised right arm.

Bang!

Zhao Shan's entire body was sent crashing sideways into the earthen wall.

An agonizing pain that pierced straight to the marrow exploded from where his right arm had been struck.

"Argh!"

Zhao Shan groaned in pain, sobering by more than half as shock and fury surged through him.

With his back against the earthen wall, he widened his eyes and barely made out the lean figure charging at him again through the darkness.

Chen Cheng!

That brat actually dared to ambush him!? He actually dared to attack near the trading house, where so many guards lived!?

Shock and pain instantly swept away the last remnants of his drunkenness.

Zhao Shan immediately circulated his Blood Qi and was just about to raise his hand to block Chen Cheng's follow-up attack.

"Fuck..."

Only when he lifted his arm did Zhao Shan suddenly realize that beyond the marrow-deep pain, his right arm held a weak, broken sensation, as though it had completely lost all support.

The bones at the spot Chen Cheng had struck were already shattered.

"That's impossible... Could it be that when we fought at dusk, this brat hadn't used his full strength? This..."

Zhao Shan's heart turned cold. No longer caring about his pride, he opened his mouth to cry for help.

However.

Chen Cheng's speed as he pressed forward was far more than a notch faster than during their battle at dusk.

Before Zhao Shan could utter a sound, the second Dragon-Splitting Drill punch had already bored into his fragile Adam's apple.

Like the fangs of a venomous snake that had waited in ambush, it was incomparably precise—a single fatal strike!

Crack!

With a crisp sound that set teeth on edge, Zhao Shan's windpipe was drilled apart completely by the force of the punch.

That savage fist force even penetrated deeper, boring fine cracks into his cervical vertebrae.

Zhao Shan's eyes bulged violently, bloodshot. Every roar of rage, cry for help, and curse that had yet to leave his mouth was crushed beneath that punch inside his mangled throat.

His burly body slowly slid down the earthen wall with a heavy scraping sound before finally collapsing onto the cold, filthy ground. Only his limbs twitched faintly and involuntarily.

Chen Cheng bent down, felt around, and found Zhao Shan's money pouch.

Then, he deliberately delivered several more heavy blows to the two wounds on Zhao Shan's body, thoroughly destroying them until it was impossible to tell they had been caused by the Crouching Dragon Fist.

The next morning.

The moment Chen Cheng stepped out of his own alley, everything felt completely different.

At this hour in the past, the neighbors he met would either lower their heads and hurry past, or at most nod and mumble, "Cheng, heading out?"

But today, while still far away, every person he encountered immediately piled on a smile, their backs unconsciously bending a little.

"Master Cheng, morning!"

The old man carrying empty manure buckets stopped and grinned with his toothless mouth.

"Master Cheng, going to the Martial Hall? You're truly diligent!"

The woman rinsing chamber pots by the ditch hurriedly stepped aside to make way, smiling more warmly than if she had seen her own father.

Two Black Wolf Gang lackeys passing by even scampered over, bowing and scraping as they asked after his well-being. "Master Cheng" rolled off their tongues with practiced ease.

Chen Cheng wore no particular expression. He merely nodded slightly and continued on his way.

When he arrived at the Martial Hall.

The instant Chen Cheng stepped one foot over the threshold, the disciples training separately in the courtyard nearly all paused at the same time.

Then every gaze turned toward him in unison.

"Senior Brother! Morning!"

The voices were uneven, yet all carried force, loud enough to be heard from several alleys away.

Even Wang Han, who had always considered himself the senior disciple, had never received such treatment.

"Senior Brother Chen... morning!"

Before Chen Cheng could respond to everyone, two figures had already hurried over from either side.

On the left was Ding Qiang, his face piled with a smile almost scalding in its eagerness. In his hand hung a gray-feathered wild chicken that was still twitching faintly.

"Senior Brother, my father waited in the mountains for several days before catching this. Take it home and add a bowl of soup for your family. This season, it's especially nourishing."

On the right, Li He presented a pair of brand-new black cloth shoes. Their soles had been densely stitched, every seam sturdy and solid.

"Senior Brother, my mother made these overnight last night... They're made from the thick cloth our family saved up. They're especially durable. I thought the size would fit you perfectly, Senior Brother, so I brought them."

Chen Cheng paused.

There was a saying from his previous life that put it well: when you succeed, everyone around you is a good person.

Chen Cheng could not help wondering: he had only refined a strand of Blood Qi, yet the attitudes of those around him had changed so drastically.

If he could earn the title of Martial Guard, just how spectacular would these people's reactions be?

At that moment, several disciples training nearby looked over with complicated expressions. There was envy, there was realization, but they all quickly turned away and pretended not to see.

Ding Qiang's family were hunters, but hunting was extraordinarily difficult at this time of year. That one wild chicken might be the only meat his family would have for the next ten days or half a month.

Li He's mother had poor eyesight. Who knew how long she had stayed up to make a pair of shoes overnight?

Chen Cheng had heard Shi Lei talk about these circumstances before.

As for Ding Qiang and Li He's little thoughts, it was nothing more than the fact that they had followed Wang Han before and, more or less, offended Chen Cheng. Afraid he would settle old scores, they could only hurriedly show their sincerity, seeking favor and forgiveness.

"Then I won't stand on ceremony."

Chen Cheng did not refuse too much. He reached out and accepted the wild chicken and cloth shoes.

He understood it clearly. If he refused, the two would only become more anxious, believing he bore a grudge and perhaps later racking their brains into causing some new mischief.

Better to accept them and let them set their hearts at ease.

Sure enough, the moment the gifts left their hands, Ding Qiang and Li He's shoulders visibly relaxed. The forced smiles on their faces became far more natural, as though they had been granted a great pardon.

"Which junior brother knows how to prepare this wild chicken? Take it to the kitchen and stew it. At noon today, everyone can have a taste of meat."

"Thank you, Senior Brother Chen... Senior Brother is generous..."

A wave of excited voices instantly rose through the courtyard. They were all people who had grown up in the mud of the slums and ordinarily would not dare dream of such meat. Some of the younger ones were even drooling.

"I... I can."

From the corner, Qiao Qiao answered softly and raised her hand.

Chen Cheng nodded and motioned for Ding Qiang to deliver the wild chicken to her.

Then Chen Cheng changed into the new shoes on the spot. Sure enough, the size fit perfectly, and the materials were sturdy. The soles were neither too soft nor too hard, making him steady on his feet. They were incomparably more comfortable than his old broken straw shoes.

"Junior Brother Cheng, come here."

Fatty Fang emerged from the side room and waved with a genial smile.

Chen Cheng quickly walked over. Before he could speak, Fatty Fang slung a thick hand around his shoulders and half-pushed, half-invited him into the side room.

"Sit wherever."

Fatty Fang released him and turned toward the wardrobe.

Chen Cheng glanced around this room reserved for instructors. It was spacious and tidy, and the tables, chairs, bed, and cabinets were all genuine rosewood.

He then sat down on a chair by the window.

"This is for you."

Fatty Fang took out a brand-new set of black training clothes. The fabric was thick, and under the light filtering through the window lattice, fine, meticulous patterns could faintly be seen.

"Thank you, Senior Brother."

Chen Cheng accepted them with both hands, his eyes full of delight.

Fatty Fang sat in the chair opposite him and asked with a genial smile.

"How was it? When you went back last night, did anything feel off? Can your Blood Qi circulate normally within your body?"

"Everything is fine. Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother," Chen Cheng said.

"Not bad... kid."

Fatty Fang smacked his lips. "I originally thought that with your bones, it would take you at least several days to fully stabilize your realm and tame your Blood Qi..."

"Just luck," Chen Cheng answered vaguely.

Fatty Fang suddenly frowned, lowering his voice extremely. "You... didn't use any wicked methods, did you?"

"Wicked methods?" Chen Cheng was taken aback.

Fatty Fang stared into Chen Cheng's eyes for several breaths. Seeing that his gaze was upright and clear, not at all feigned.

"It's better if you don't know about such things..."

Seeing that he was unwilling to say more, Chen Cheng tactfully changed the subject.

"Senior Brother, you said earlier that after entering the Middle Academy, we'd receive a portion of Blood-Boosting Powder every month, right?"

"That's right, but first you have to spend money to terminate your Death-Pledge Contract, then pay your monthly tuition in full."

Fatty Fang reminded him, "But if you plan to sign the Middle Academy's new Death-Pledge Contract instead, you won't be able to receive Blood-Boosting Powder for free."

"Is Blood-Boosting Powder expensive? How effective is it?" Chen Cheng asked again.

"If you buy it yourself from the Great Pharmacy, the market price is five taels of silver per portion."

Fatty Fang said, "After taking it, it can speed up the growth of Blood Qi produced while tempering your fist techniques... The exact increase varies from person to person."

As Chen Cheng listened, a glimmer flashed through his eyes, but his expression remained impassive.

"Senior Brother, what does Blood-Boosting Powder look like?"

"What are you asking that for?"

Fatty Fang froze for a moment before answering casually.

"Red powder, much like crushed cinnabar. It smells of rust and a fishy sweetness. It melts upon entering the mouth, bitter-sweet at first, then leaving a sweet aftertaste."

It matched!

Chen Cheng's face remained calm, but inwardly, he was delighted.

Last night, aside from more than three taels of loose silver, Zhao Shan's money pouch had contained a thumb-sized red porcelain bottle, with the character "Congeal" written on it.

Chen Cheng had opened it then and there. The fine powder inside had been exactly the same as what Fatty Fang had just described.

The bottle was full, clearly freshly bought and meant to be taken along on the merchant road.