Death-Pledge

In the darkness, Madam Li could not see clearly.

She could only sense Chen Cheng's movements, as though he were stirring flowing water—soft and slow.

This Health-Preserving style...

She sighed silently, unable to hide her disappointment.

Yet Chen Cheng was already struggling to contain his delight.

Beginner level, seemingly such a basic realm, was in fact the foundation laid after the Vertical Eye Mark had completely pierced the essence of the Health-Preserving Taiji Fist.

It made Chen Cheng's every movement seem tempered through a thousand hammers and ten thousand trials—nearly instinctive, as natural as moving an arm or finger, without the slightest error.

What he had not expected was that the moment he began, he experienced the true meaning of Taiji: "perfect harmony without end, life endlessly renewing itself."

When honing the same forms, some people inevitably made mistakes, while others achieved flawless precision. Some merely skimmed the surface and gained only the shape, while others touched the true meaning, possessing both form and spirit.

Thus, every round of practice brought greater or lesser gains.

Over the years, the difference would become as vast as heaven and abyss.

After completing one round, he was not particularly tired. Instead, a faint warmth spread through his body.

He closed the form and returned to the origin.

His sole touched down lightly, like a feather falling upon still water. The thin layer of dust on the ground rippled outward in rings, revealing a clear, perfect circle.

[Health-Preserving Taiji Fist]: Beginner (1/300), Traits (None), Limit Break (No)

"Perfectly honing it once can increase my realm progress by one point... And there's a chance to unlock traits and break through the limits?"

"In the long run, as long as I live long enough... I can naturally grow stronger..."

"But the problem is... I don't have time..."

Chen Cheng did not let the surprise go to his head.

He knew clearly that Laitou could come looking for him at any time, that the Black Wolf Gang would collect the Peace Tax in seven days, and that he and his mother still had to scrape out a living...

The butcher's blade hung ever above his head. There was simply no time for him to slowly cultivate and become stronger.

And for now, though this Health-Preserving Taiji Fist had reached Beginner level, it lacked immediate combat power for destruction and killing.

He wanted to learn martial arts to stay alive, so that he would never again be bullied.

To put it bluntly, what he desperately needed was a killing art!

Not a health-preserving exercise.

"I still need to find a way into a Martial Hall... Only by learning a true killing art can I gain the power to protect myself..."

Chen Cheng silently pondered, and a plan soon formed in his mind.

"Not practicing anymore?" Madam Li asked.

"Like you said, the more I move, the faster I get hungry..."

Chen Cheng lowered his voice and instructed her, "Don't tell anyone outside that I practice this style."

Madam Li nodded firmly. She still knew what mattered.

"Lie down for a while..."

The earthenware candleholder at home had a thick layer of dust on it, and they needed to save firewood wherever they could.

Sitting around uselessly was no solution. They could only go to sleep early.

The bedboard was cold, hard, and narrow. Mother and son lay on their sides at opposite ends, yet it still felt cramped.

The torn cloth quilt was stuffed with straw and hemp floss. Waves of mildew and sour sweat stench constantly gnawed at Chen Cheng's senses.

In this world, even falling asleep was difficult...

Mother and son chatted idly about daily trifles, one sentence here and another there. Only after an unknown length of time did they finally drift into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning.

Bitter Locust Village remained shrouded beneath the city wall's shadow, with little sunlight to be seen. Frost and dew soaked the alleys, making them even wetter, muddier, and colder.

Madam Li woke early, carrying an empty wooden bucket to the Old Well at the East End.

Chen Cheng waited at home for a while. Only when he heard the neighboring door creak open did he immediately rise and head outside.

"Brother A-Cheng."

A tall, sturdy young man in fitted black clothes came out of the neighboring house. Upon seeing Chen Cheng, he grinned and greeted him.

"Xiao Long."

A smile appeared on Chen Cheng's face as well.

"Thanks for yesterday, to you and Hu Niu..."

"Ah, come on. We're brothers who grew up rolling in the mud together. Why get all formal about it?"

Xiao Long waved a hand, utterly unconcerned.

"Brother, the buns will be ready soon. At least eat a couple before you go."

Hu Niu's voice came from the kitchen in another room.

Their family had been doing better and better over the past two years. A whole row of five houses, rented or bought, had all been settled under their roof.

Besides the two siblings, their parents were still hale and hearty. Not only did they have enough to eat, they even got to taste meat every few days.

In Bitter Locust Village, their family was already living the very best sort of life.

Everyone envied them.

"No need. The gang provides meals. You think your brother's going to starve?"

Xiao Long called back toward the kitchen. Just as he turned to leave, he saw Chen Cheng hesitating as if he wanted to say something.

"Brother A-Cheng."

Xiao Long's smile faded, and he lowered his voice.

"You... need something from me?"

Chen Cheng nodded.

"Yesterday, I heard Aunt Zhang and the others say that you've achieved success in martial arts and have a boundless future ahead of you... I wanted to ask you about the Martial Halls in the Outer City."

"Want to learn martial arts? Saved up enough money?"

When Chen Cheng silently shook his head, Xiao Long could not help frowning.

"I've been through it myself. If you don't have enough money, it's best not to practice martial arts... But if you really want to try, there is a place."

"In Peaceful Lane, Dragon Mountain Martial Hall has set up a Lower Academy. It specifically selects promising seedlings from the slums."

"Those with above-average Bones or superior comprehension can have their tuition waived, and they'll get breakfast and lunch too. But... they have to sign a Death-Pledge Contract!"

Xiao Long paused, his tone growing more solemn.

"Poor disciples who cultivate a stick of Blood Qi in the Lower Academy within six months can advance to the Middle Academy, completely leaving the slums behind. Their treatment and status will both rise greatly."

"But if they fail to cultivate a stick of Blood Qi within six months, they must serve Dragon Mountain Hall with their lives for five years. Dragon Mountain Hall assigns the tasks, and I hear they're extremely dangerous!"

Well, damn!

Learn martial arts first, pay off the debt afterward!

Wasn't this the ancient grandfather of buy-now-pay-later? Practice first, go silent after!

Chen Cheng froze for a moment and asked instinctively.

"If someone dies only a few days after starting their service, wouldn't Dragon Mountain Hall suffer a huge loss?"

"Dragon Mountain Hall is one of Zhao City's great Martial Halls. The Upper Academy makes a fortune every day. What does losing a little over this matter?"

Xiao Long asked back as though it were only natural.

But Chen Cheng did not agree. Anyone capable of coming up with such a capitalist scheme would surely seek to maximize profits. They would absolutely despise losses.

Perhaps...

Even the dead had other ways of paying their debts.

That was what Chen Cheng thought. Though he had concerns, he had no better choice at all.

"Is cultivating a stick of Blood Qi in six months difficult?" Chen Cheng asked.

"Difficult?"

Xiao Long was so exasperated that he laughed.

"I practiced for nearly two years before I barely cultivated one stick of Blood Qi... Do you know how I spent those two years?"

Hearing that, Chen Cheng smiled awkwardly.

"Laugh! Once you've truly practiced martial arts, you won't be able to laugh anymore!"

Xiao Long teased him, then turned serious again.

"Dragon Mountain Hall isn't so easy to get into... If you really can't stay at the trading firm, you can come join the Clear River Gang with me. I can't promise much else, but two full meals a day won't be a problem."

Chen Cheng's expression froze at those words.

Xiao Long and Hu Niu had always been forthright and loyal since childhood, but after crawling and struggling through this filthy world, they were still willing to help him like this. That was truly rare.

"I'll remember your kindness."

Chen Cheng slowly shook his head.

He had heard of the Clear River Gang. It was weaker than the Black Wolf Gang, and its territory was not in Bitter Locust Village.

If he agreed to join the Clear River Gang now, not only would it fail to resolve the immediate crisis, it might instead bring him even more trouble.

"My mother has a soft heart. If she knew I'd joined a gang, she'd worry herself sick every day. I'm afraid she'd fret herself into illness again..."

Chen Cheng carefully declined, without making Xiao Long lose face.

"That's true."

Xiao Long thought for a moment, then said, "Why don't you go find Ah Guang and Ba Dou? They're doing all right too. We all grew up together, so ask them to lend you a hand."

Chen Cheng nodded, a trace of barely noticeable gloom flashing through his eyes.

"I still have to hurry back to the gang. I might not return for a while. You... if you change your mind, come find me in Qinghe Neighborhood."

Xiao Long was not an idle man. After talking for so long, he feared delaying his business. Following a brief farewell, he hurried away.

Chen Cheng nodded his thanks and parted from him.

Peaceful Lane was considered one of the best areas among the slums of the South Outer City.

It received plenty of sunlight, and its roads were paved with bluestone. Though there were many cracks and sunken spots, it was still far better than the wet, twisted Muddy Alley. Even the stench in the air was noticeably lighter.

The area around Dragon Mountain Martial Hall could even be called clean. In the slums, that was already enough to be considered heretical.

At this moment, a long line had already formed before the Martial Hall's black-lacquered wooden doors.

They were all ragged, sallow, emaciated youths from the slums, their eyes filled with a mixture of longing and unease.

Chen Cheng silently walked over and stood at the very end of the line.

He waited for a long time.

At last, the doors were pushed open.

A young man in fitted black clothes slowly walked out. His face was round and plump, his belly bulged like a drum, and his broad, sturdy body resembled a small mountain.

His eyes were half-lidded, and impatience hung openly on his face.

Without a word, he placed his palm-like hands on each slum youth's shoulder in turn.

"Stand to the left... Left... Lef..."

His skin was fair, but his expression was ugly. The commands spilling from his mouth gradually became cold snorts.

When it was Chen Cheng's turn, the instant that large hand landed on his shoulder blade, a strange numbness surged into him and rapidly spread through his limbs and bones.

So this was bone-feeling? Chen Cheng thought.

The fat man offered no explanation. He did not even raise his eyelids, merely snorting a curt word through his nose.

"Left."

Chen Cheng said nothing and immediately stepped over.

"Not a single one worth looking at. If you ask me, this bone-feeling is completely unnecessary."

The fat man curled his lip, then said sternly.

"Next, I'll test your comprehension! Open your eyes wide and watch carefully!"