Opportunity

Lost favor?

Chen Cheng felt not the slightest ripple in his heart at those words.

Fatty Fang only occasionally praised him because his martial arts had entered perfectly, leaving no faults for him to pick at or use as an excuse to scold him. When he found Chen Cheng pleasing to the eye, he tossed out a compliment or two. What favor was there to speak of?

Compared to him, the young girl who had arrived today was the one who had truly caught Fatty Fang's eye.

The girl looked no more than thirteen or fourteen. She had not yet filled out, thin and small, wrapped in an overly large gray cloth garment that made her seem even more frail and lonely.

Her hair was dry and yellow, barely tied behind her head with an old strip of cloth, exposing a pointed chin and a face with little color in it.

Her eyes were bright, always carrying a cautious wariness, yet she tried hard to appear obedient.

Chen Cheng looked carefully. There was not a single flaw in the girl's stake technique, and she had persisted through her first attempt far longer than he had.

That meant her comprehension was extremely high, and her natural aptitude was at least above average.

Watching Fatty Fang hover around her all morning, rare patience on his face as he talked and gestured, even softening his voice by a few degrees...

Top-grade aptitude was not impossible!

Chen Cheng withdrew his gaze and continued lifting the stone lock.

"I heard she's a pitiful one too..."

That loudmouth Shi Lei began spilling the story on his own.

"Her family was so poor they couldn't even lift the lid off the cooking pot. Her parents got ideas and wanted to sell her to a Dark Brothel to receive customers... A Dark Brothel in the slums is the kind of place that can drive a decent person mad..."

"She ran away in the middle of the night. Somehow, she heard that Dragon Mountain Hall was taking people in, so she came here herself and signed a Death-Pledge Contract. Only then were her parents left with no way to stop her."

Chen Cheng fell silent for a moment and did not respond.

In times like these, who was not pitiable?

That she could rely on her comprehension and natural aptitude to earn herself a Death-Pledge Contract was already the greatest fortune amid misfortune.

How many people did not even have such an opportunity?

"By the middle of next month, there'll be a good show to watch." Shi Lei raised his brows with a rather amused expression.

"How so?" Chen Cheng asked.

"Every month in the middle of the month, the academy takes out a portion of Blood Refining Powder and grants it to the strongest disciple of that month."

Shi Lei lowered his voice.

"Wang Han and Ma Zhao will complete their half-year term soon. This is their final chance to get Blood Refining Powder, so they'll definitely fight for it like their lives depend on it. Add today's little genius to the mix... Tsk, just thinking about it is exciting!"

Chen Cheng nodded and casually asked, "Senior Brother Shi, aren't you planning to compete for it?"

Over the past few days of chatting with Shi Lei, Chen Cheng had already learned that Wang Han and Ma Zhao were the two most outstanding youths. Both had brought their Crouching Dragon Fist close to minor mastery.

And Shi Lei, though he looked careless and frivolous on the surface, was actually not far behind those two in strength.

There was still more than half a month left. It was not impossible for him to give it a try.

"Wang Han, Ma Zhao, and I are brothers. I already promised them both that I wouldn't compete this time."

Shi Lei looked utterly unconcerned, his tone light as clouds and gentle as wind.

"What? You've got ideas?"

"...Me?"

Chen Cheng smiled and said nothing more.

Shi Lei paused slightly, then felt that he had been overly sensitive.

With Chen Cheng's natural aptitude, without external supplements, it would already be fortunate if he did not get worn down and ruin his training.

What could he use to compete with Wang Han, who ate meat at every meal? Even Ma Zhao got a hearty meat meal every few days.

Besides, those two had already been tempering themselves in the Lower Academy for four or five months. How long had Chen Cheng been here? He had no chance at all!

"I know you're short on money..."

Shi Lei leaned closer, his lips barely moving as he breathed out the words.

"I've got a way. Tonight, the Clear River Gang and the Black Tiger Gang are going to clash. We'll go stand with the Clear River Gang..."

"Just standing there without moving gets you thirty copper coins. If it comes to blows, win or lose, you'll get at least this much..."

He subtly held up one finger.

A hundred copper coins?

Chen Cheng barely hesitated before shaking his head. "Thank you for thinking of me, Senior Brother. This money isn't easy to take... I'll wait until I'm stronger."

So-called standing with a gang meant that when gangs had friction, the weaker side would temporarily hire people to pad out their numbers and bolster their momentum.

It was fine if no one fought. You could simply stand there and get paid.

But once fighting broke out, when did it ever end without lives being lost?

When Chen Cheng had first met Shi Lei, he had thought the scar on Shi Lei's neck had been scratched by a woman.

In truth, it had been scraped by the tip of a manure fork during a gang brawl. Half an inch deeper, and his windpipe would have been forked right out.

Shi Lei had told him all that himself.

Even if there had been some exaggeration in it, the danger was still plain to see.

There was a saying from Chen Cheng's previous life that he deeply agreed with: a gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall.

Unless he had no other choice, he would never willingly place himself in a dangerous situation beyond his control, where life and death rested on another person's whim or a thread of luck.

At the end of the day, he was weak and lowly right now. One wrong step, and he would be doomed beyond redemption.

"Fine. There's never anything wrong with being steady..."

Shi Lei was not surprised by Chen Cheng's polite refusal. He patted Chen Cheng on the shoulder, then turned and left.

In the distance.

Wang Han, Ma Zhao, and several other disciples they usually associated with were gathered beside the well.

When they saw Shi Lei return while shaking his head, they exchanged looks, all wearing expressions that said it was exactly as expected.

"Tch, what a coward."

Ma Zhao shot Chen Cheng a disdainful look from afar, snorting through his nose without the slightest attempt to hide his contempt.

"He doesn't even dare bite the meat delivered right to his mouth. He deserves to die poor."

Wang Han crossed his arms, a mocking sneer at the corner of his lips.

"With aptitude rotten to that extent, he still puts on that lukewarm, unhurried act every day. Who's he putting it on for?"

"Which of us brothers doesn't have better aptitude than him? When we catch an opportunity, who doesn't sharpen his head and drill upward?"

"But him? Does he really think he's some vegetable, that he can grow Blood Qi all by himself with some water and sunlight?"

A skinny, tall youth beside them also sneered.

"When the half-year term ends, if he still can't cultivate even a wisp of Blood Qi, with his aptitude, I'm afraid he won't survive even one assignment... No matter how steady he is now, won't he still die then?"

"Cut the damn talk!"

Shi Lei walked over, his face unusually stern as he interrupted the increasingly unpleasant discussion in a deep voice.

"We're all brothers. Did Chen Cheng provoke any of you? Is gossiping behind his back like this interesting?"

Ma Zhao and Wang Han looked at each other, curled their lips, and said no more.

Both of them had their minds on the Blood Refining Powder for the middle of next month. There was no need to clash with Shi Lei over a few words.

The other disciples, whose strength lagged far behind, dared not offend Shi Lei either. Embarrassed, they shifted their gazes away.

Yet when their eyes passed over Chen Cheng again, the lofty disdain and contempt in them had not lessened in the slightest. If anything, it had grown even stronger.

In their eyes, someone like Chen Cheng, with neither aptitude nor daring, was simply unworthy of being their fellow disciple.

Only a fool like Shi Lei, who valued loyalty above all else, would treat Chen Cheng like a person.

Similar thoughts surged through all their minds without prior agreement.

"An idiot! A coward! Go die somewhere else!"

Night, Buckwheat Alley.

The cold wind dragged the pungent stench of rotting garbage, dung, and urine from the open sewer as it prowled through the alleyways.

The branches of the crooked old tree at the mouth of the alley flailed wildly in the wind. Wretched moonlight spilled down, pulling out black shadows on the ground that bared their fangs and brandished their claws as they twisted without cease.

Chen Cheng crouched in a dark corner neither too near nor too far away.

He had chosen the spot cunningly. From there, he could take in everything happening in the earthen courtyard beneath the tree, while remaining hidden in the deep shadows beneath the eaves of a ruined shed, leaving no trace.

It was not that Chen Cheng failed to cherish opportunities. On the contrary, he craved them more than anyone.

But in his eyes, only something with risk approaching zero and overall controllable circumstances counted as an opportunity. If the risk was too great and beyond control, that was called gambling.

For the past seven full days, he had secretly come here to keep watch every night.

Like an old wolf with immense patience, silently observing its prey.

He had already thoroughly figured out the situation in the courtyard beneath the tree.

Besides Laitou, three other Black Wolf Gang lackeys lived there.

Laitou's right leg was broken, so he rarely went outside. The other three always returned before nightfall.

Chen Cheng had achieved perfect entry into the Crouching Dragon Fist. Together with the strength he had gained over the past few days, taking on one lackey alone would be no trouble at all, but against three, he had no chance whatsoever.

So he had kept waiting.

Waiting for a perfect opportunity like tonight.

The Black Wolf Gang was going to clash with the Clear River Gang. Not one of the three men living with Laitou had returned!

Chen Cheng hesitated no longer, gripping a huge spear stone with sharp edges in his hand.

He crouched low and slipped toward the courtyard. Using the twisted branches of the old tree as cover, he slowly climbed up onto a fork in the trunk.

After finding the right angle, he leaped.

His body moved with Perfect Harmony and light grace. His legs subtly dispersed the force, and he fell silently into the courtyard like a feather landing on still water.

All was quiet around him. Only from Laitou's room drifted bursts of the obscene, vulgar tunes he hummed to himself.

The bean-sized oil lamp cast his shadow onto the paper window, where it swayed and bobbed its head in utter contentment.

It was as though Chen Cheng had rehearsed this countless times in his mind already.

He strode straight to the flimsy wooden door and kicked it open with a bang.

At that moment, Laitou was reclining crookedly on the bed, still holding a rough earthenware bowl of wine.

The thunderous noise jolted him all over. He looked over through drunken, bleary eyes, and when he saw Chen Cheng standing expressionlessly in the doorway against the light—

The lewd smile on his face froze instantly.

"You..."

Before he could finish speaking,

Chen Cheng had already exploded into motion. His body linked the turns and movements of the Crouching Dragon Stake Technique with perfect precision. His sudden short-range burst was so fast that Laitou had no time to react.

Laitou only instinctively leaned backward while reaching beneath his pillow for the short dagger hidden there.

But Chen Cheng's movements were nearly instinctive as well.

Crouching Force had been building within him for a long time.

Without the slightest delay, he unleashed a Crouching Dragon Seal, driving out every ounce of force.

This was the most explosive move in the Crouching Dragon Fist. It had almost no forms or variations, pursuing only the utmost speed and devastation.

Like a crouching dragon, its claw seal covering the crown!

Chen Cheng gripped the spear stone tightly in both hands and smashed it down.

Carrying twisting, drilling, penetrating force—force specialized in breaking hard techniques and piercing armor—it crashed toward Laitou's head. No, it was not smashing down. It was stamping down!

Bang!

Laitou did not even have time to scream before the spear stone bored through his skull, half of the stone embedding itself in his head.

Chen Cheng stepped back, avoiding the spray of blood and pulp.

Laitou had not yet died. His eyes bulged as his body convulsed violently. He wanted to cry out, but only gurgling, leaking breaths came from his throat, along with the thumping of his hands and feet striking the bedframe.

Chen Cheng's body and mind both felt deeply uncomfortable, yet his gaze remained resolute. He gritted his teeth fiercely and forcibly suppressed all discomfort.

He pulled out the dagger from beneath Laitou's pillow, slit his throat first, then drove it into his chest cavity.

The room sank completely into dead silence.

Only the faint crackling of the oil lamp's wick bursting occasionally remained.

Chen Cheng released the dagger and wiped the blood from his hands on the bedding.

His gaze swiftly swept over the room's crude furnishings. Aside from a bulging old money pouch beneath the pillow, there was nothing else of value.

Without the slightest hesitation, he yanked out the pouch and stuffed it directly into his clothes.

Then he went to the other three rooms. After quickly searching them, he found nothing at all in two of them, but discovered a clay jar containing hidden money in the third.

When he smashed open the jar, he found three strings of copper coins and more than ten large knife coins worth a hundred each.

He tucked every last one into his clothes. They weighed heavily against his flesh.

Back in the courtyard.

Chen Cheng scooped some bone-chilling water from the water vat and carefully washed away the remaining bloodstains on his hands.

He had dodged in time earlier. Only a few drops had splashed onto him, so he was still fairly clean.

Afterward.

He stood in the small courtyard thick with the smell of blood.

His gaze carefully swept over every corner, making absolutely certain that he had left behind no trace pointing to himself.

Then he pulled open the courtyard gate and swiftly vanished into the thick night, as though he had never appeared at all.