Hu Niu

"Every word Senior Brother said is golden advice, and I understand the reasoning... but I only forged Blood Qi not long ago. I truly have no confidence in my heart..."

Chen Cheng first offered him a way out, then dangled a carrot before him.

"When my strength grows greater in the future, I'll have to trouble Senior Brother to make the introduction. When that time comes, I'm willing to offer up my first payment of wages with both hands."

"Heh! Now that's more like it!"

Qian Baolu grinned broadly, and his stiff expression immediately relaxed.

"Junior Brother is a sensible man, and straightforward too. If there's anything you don't understand from now on, just come ask me."

"Thank you, Senior Brother. I was just about to ask—how are the lodgings arranged?"

Chen Cheng casually dropped the question.

"Instructor Fang left in a hurry at noon and didn't get the chance to tell me."

A trace of something unusual flashed through Qian Baolu's eyes, so faint it was almost imperceptible. Smiling, he said,

"The rooms on the southwest sides are for White Badge holders—six people crammed into one room. The rooms on the northeast sides are for us Black Badge holders, all private single rooms."

"The room beside mine happens to be vacant—East Thirty-Three. Go have a look after you finish eating..."

"If you think it's suitable, register at the General Affairs Room beside the small gate of the Inner Hall. Collect your lock, key, and bedding, and you can move in."

Chen Cheng nodded and thanked him again.

Qian Baolu chatted idly for a few more moments, then headed toward the livelier, more crowded side.

After the meal.

Following his instructions, Chen Cheng went to the row of rooms beneath the East Courtyard wall and found the single room with the number thirty-three carved above the door.

The door was left ajar and opened with a push.

The room was not large. Aside from a bare wooden plank bed against the wall, there was nothing else.

He could take in the whole place at a glance. Nothing seemed amiss.

Chen Cheng then went to the General Affairs Room. After registering, he received a door lock and key, a reasonably thick set of bedding, and a small bottle of Blood-Boosting Powder.

Returning to his room, he locked the door and made the bed. After a simple tidying-up, he was considered settled in this small, cramped patch of heaven and earth.

He stayed in his room the entire night, tempering the Health-Preserving Taiji again and again.

With his mind immersed, Blood Qi circulated soundlessly. Only when his entire body felt at ease and his spirit was brimming did he slowly draw in his stance.

When he pushed open the door, it was already deep into the night.

He took a deep breath.

The air here could not be called pleasant. It still carried the stale scent of sweat and dust left over from the day.

Yet compared with the hopeless stench in the slums that lingered year-round, as though it could seep into the cracks of one's bones, it was the difference between clouds and mud.

As the night wind brushed past him, he unexpectedly felt the long-lost sensation of his lungs finally being able to stretch open.

At that moment.

Chen Cheng suddenly noticed that the moonlight spilling across the training yard outlined figure after figure still sweating like rain.

Most had White Badges hanging at their waists. Their bodies and movements clearly showed the exhausted weariness of people forcing themselves onward, yet as though competing against one another, not one was willing to stop and rest first.

There were also scattered figures of several Black Badge disciples in the yard, likewise drenched in sweat and giving everything they had.

The night wind grew colder. In the vast training yard, there were no shouts, no hot-blooded fervor—only persistence branded into their bones, bordering on obsession.

Chen Cheng stood in the shadows before his room, silently watching the scene.

A moment later.

He returned to his room, locked the door, and continued tempering himself!

The next morning.

After Chen Cheng finished the rationed white porridge and pork from the dining hall, his stomach was full...

But through all four limbs and a hundred bones ran a faint hollowness, as though a piece of his foundation had been scooped out and not filled back in properly.

The night before, he had overtrained the Crouching Dragon Fist. Even though he had afterward circulated the Health-Preserving Taiji, activated its Health Preservation effects, completely dispelled his fatigue, and restored ninety-nine percent of his stamina—

The strain and depletion that tempering the fist art inflicted upon his physique itself could not be replenished from thin air. It had to be filled in and solidified with real rich food or medicinal supplements.

"Let's give it a try..."

With the mindset that true knowledge came from practice, Chen Cheng took out five qian of loose silver from his pocket, called over a White Badge disciple, and asked him to add a serving of Venison Medicinal Meal.

What arrived was a small soup bowl. There were not many chunks of meat inside, mixed with several kinds of medicinal roots and stems. The broth was a murky blood-red, its smell carrying a gamey bitterness that rushed straight to his head.

Frowning, he wolfed it down in a few mouthfuls.

Not long after, a warm heat slowly spread from his stomach, seeping in wisps toward his limbs.

After moving his tendons and bones a little, the lingering sense of weakness truly faded by quite a bit. His entire body was like parched sandy earth receiving sweet rain, coming "alive" once more.

Chen Cheng softly exhaled, his gaze sweeping over the Black Badge disciples around him, who had likewise finished breakfast and unhesitatingly paid to add more food...

Sure enough, not a single coin had been spent in vain.

After leaving the dining hall, Chen Cheng headed straight for the training yard gate.

There were disciples specially assigned to guard the room beside the gate. Only after confirming Chen Cheng's black-letter waist token did they open the gate and let him through.

If it had been a disciple with a white-letter waist token, he would not have had the right to go out freely.

By now, the sky was fully bright.

Golden-red sunlight poured down, illuminating the broad, level bluestone main street outside the hall until it gleamed.

The street buzzed with people, while the banners of shops on both sides fluttered proudly.

Bulging hemp sacks were piled before the grain shops. A heavy, greasy smell drifted from the oil presses. Clerks from the cloth shops stood beneath the eaves, eagerly drawing in customers.

Some early risers sat in the teahouses discussing business, while servers carrying long-spouted bronze kettles darted back and forth like flying birds.

The air was mixed with the steaming heat of food, dust, and the distinctive smells of every kind of trade—rich and vividly alive.

Though the scene before him was far inferior to the Inner City, it was already a lofty realm beyond the reach of the lowest slum dwellers.

Chen Cheng walked quickly and soon arrived at a needlework workshop beside Annan Ward.

Its storefront was small, the inside somewhat dim. The air carried the dusty smell of cloth and the sour reek of paste.

Chen Cheng spotted Hu Niu in the corner at once.

With her head lowered, she was struggling to embroider something onto a piece of silk.

Only a few days had passed since he last saw her, yet she already looked as though she had been boiled dry. Her cheeks had sunken, dark circles lay beneath her eyes, and even her braid, which was usually always neatly combed, had become frizzy and disheveled.

"Move your hands faster! The batch of handkerchiefs The Proprietor wants must be delivered the day after tomorrow!"

A supervising old woman strode over, her finger nearly jabbing Hu Niu in the nose as spit flew from her mouth.

"Zhou Qiao, out of everyone here, you embroider the slowest—and you still make mistakes! Dock ten copper coins from this month's wages first!"

Several women working nearby secretly glanced over. Their faces showed pity, but not one dared make a sound.

Hu Niu's shoulders shrank back. She did not argue, but the knuckles of the hand gripping her needle turned slightly white.

"Did you hear me?! Answer me! Is your hide itching again!?"

The supervisor deliberately raised her voice, straightening her finger as she prepared to jab Hu Niu in the forehead.

"She heard you."

A calm voice came from the doorway.

Everyone in the workshop froze for a moment and turned to look.

Chen Cheng walked in from the sunlight outside, heading directly toward Hu Niu.

The supervisor first frowned. But once she saw Chen Cheng's clothing and bearing, her heart instantly clenched.

"Sir... are you from the Middle Academy of Dragon-Beating Mountain? May I ask what... what brings you here?"

The harshness vanished from the supervisor's face in an instant, replaced by a fawning smile.