The Road Ahead, Only One

Times change, and the world shifts with them.

The rising sun climbed higher, eventually hanging directly over the heads of everyone in the yamen.

The yamen operated as usual, as if the storm of this morning's "Morning Assembly" had never drenched anyone, yet that chilling wind had burrowed deep into their hearts.

The name Chen Zhuo had become the primary topic of conversation for everyone in the yamen during their breaks.

Some said he wasn't the one who killed Huang Sanyou, while others whispered that he was indeed the killer and that Master Yan's testimony was falsified and untrustworthy.

There were all sorts of rumors, but the most frequent topic was his martial cultivation.

He had fought off eight men single-handedly and managed to hack down three of them.

Especially after news spread that the three were not dead but crippled, most of the yamen runners and White-Uniform Runners alike began to look at Chen Zhuo with awe.

Chen Zhuo was still unaware that he had become the "new celebrity" of the yamen.

Because at this moment, he was busy cooking.

Previously, as a helper, he only needed to come to the kitchen to prepare one meal.

Now that he had officially joined the kitchen staff, he was responsible for everything, whether it was his job or not.

This was especially true for chopping vegetables; he had originally stepped in because the Qiu Family sisters had run into trouble and lost two main workers, and now Xiao Liu was gone as well.

It was as if he had taken on the workload of three or four people all by himself.

"The monthly pay should at least go up a bit; don't act like Skin-Peeler Wang."

Chen Zhuo mentioned it casually as he handed over some vegetables.

Amidst the smoke and fire, Yan Ming spoke indifferently: "Let's not talk about money; talking about money ruins the relationship."

Chen Zhuo gritted his teeth and turned to vent his frustration on the cutting board.

After a flurry of activity, the kitchen served the dishes on time.

Chen Zhuo picked up the food box and followed Yan Ming back to the small courtyard.

"There's another room at the very back. It used to store some junk, but if you clean it up, it's fit to live in."

Yan Ming gestured vaguely.

"Many thanks, Senior Brother. I'll go clean it up after I finish eating."

Chen Zhuo nodded, glanced at the room at the back, and plopped down onto a stone stool.

"No rush."

Yan Ming took the food out of the box, arranged it on the table, picked up his chopsticks, and placed a piece of meat into Chen Zhuo's bowl.

"Senior Brother?"

Chen Zhuo looked up, puzzled.

"Just eat."

Yan Ming smiled, stopped serving food, and simply stared blankly at Chen Zhuo.

As Chen Zhuo ate, he began to feel that something was off. He immediately stopped his chopsticks and said seriously, "Senior Brother, I know I'm good-looking, but I only see you as a senior brother."

"Get lost."

Yan Ming laughed and cursed, "I'll say it again: I am not the likes of Wang Mingyuan."

"Oh."

Chen Zhuo pursed his lips, decided not to dwell on the topic, and went back to devouring his meal.

Halfway through the meal, Yan Ming asked out of the blue, "At this morning's Morning Assembly, I didn't speak up to protect you right away, and I even let you expose your innate talent and bone structure in front of everyone."

"Do you truly not blame me?"

Hearing this, Chen Zhuo's hand, which was reaching for a piece of food, suddenly froze.

He slowly placed his chopsticks on the edge of his bowl, shook his head, and smiled: "The result was still you helping me clear my name, wasn't it?"

Yan Ming was stunned, his eyes fixed on Chen Zhuo's face like nails.

After a long while, he shifted his gaze, looked down at his own hands, and laughed self-deprecatingly: "As I get older, these hands have slowly transitioned from holding a long saber to a kitchen knife. It's inevitable that I'd want to keep a protective charm for the rest of my life."

"Once a man reaches a certain age, his spirit wanes."

"Old man, don't be a coward."

Chen Zhuo placed a piece of meat into Yan Ming's bowl and then asked, "How did the Sun Family end up owing you a favor back then?"

Yan Ming raised an eyebrow: "Speaking of which, how did you know beforehand that the Sun Family owed me a favor? You were even putting on an act for them."

"You go first."

"You go first."

"Fine, I'll talk."

Chen Zhuo took a sip of water and said unhurriedly, "Fatty Sun is a young master of a prominent family, after all. I've never heard of any young master being so respectful to a cook."

"You've got a sharp eye and a keen mind."

Yan Ming cast a faint glance at Chen Zhuo, then let out a soft sigh. "Speaking of that matter, it's a long story. It has to start from the time our master died."

"No rush, take your time."

Chen Zhuo immediately perked up.

Yan Ming let out a dissatisfied cold snort and said:

"Back then, our master and three of our fellow disciples died together. Those of us who survived went our separate ways due to differing philosophies. I was disheartened and decided to leave the Capital City, yet I didn't know where to go."

"As I wandered, passing through Baiyun County, I happened to encounter Old Master Sun being attacked. Thinking I could use the opportunity to end my miserable life, I simply stepped in and took a blade for him."

"I thought I would die just like that, but I never expected to be dragged back from the gates of hell."

"Out of gratitude for saving his life, Old Master Sun arranged for me to join the yamen after my wounds were healed."

At this point, Yan Ming looked up toward the room where the spirit tablet was kept, his gaze rippling like water as memories of the past surfaced.

"That's it?"

Chen Zhuo was somewhat surprised.

Isn't this the classic protagonist template from old-school martial arts novels?

Chen Zhuo pressed further: "How did our master and the three disciples die?"

"You really know how to get to the point."

Yan Ming glanced at him. "As for the reason, I won't say, and you shouldn't go prying either. If you have the fortune to reach the Capital City, you will know in due time."

"But for now, you must remember what I told you last night: do not reveal the name of our sect."

"Senior brother, you're so weak now—you actually used to run in the Capital City?"

"Bullshit! If I hadn't been severely wounded in the soul back then, which damaged all my acupoints... Hm? You brat, are you trying to trick me into talking?! Get lost!"

Is it cliché?

Or is there an absurdly powerful enemy?

In an instant, Chen Zhuo imagined several different versions.

But seeing Yan Ming's exasperated appearance, he wisely chose not to ask any further.

"Instead of worrying about other things, you'd better worry about your current situation."

Yan Ming sneered. "Now that I no longer have my protective charm, if Huang Yuan'er makes a move on you again, no one in all of Baiyun County will be able to help you."

"Especially during the Autumn Hunt; Huang Yuan'er will definitely try to kill you."

"There are only two paths before you."

Chen Zhuo placed another large chunk of meat into Yan Ming's bowl, a smile blooming on his face. "There aren't two paths; there is clearly only one."

Submitting and compromising is one path.

Carving out a way with the long blade in one's hand is the other.

Chen Zhuo, of course, chose the latter.

Yan Ming was not at all surprised by this and silently moved the meat from his bowl back into Chen Zhuo's.

"Eat more meat, build up your body. There will be plenty of meat and rice for you in the future."

Chen Zhuo nodded heavily.

Finishing his meal in a few bites, Chen Zhuo left the small courtyard and returned to the Drill Ground.

For no other reason than this:

Free Red Mud Paste—it would be a waste not to take it.

As for the Blood-Strengthening Soup, he didn't have much interest in it right now.

When Chen Zhuo arrived at the Drill Ground, the White-Uniform Runners were already training.

Huang Yuan'er hadn't come, but there was a new instructor on the platform whom Chen Zhuo found somewhat familiar.

As he looked at the man, the man looked back at him.

But after just a fleeting glance, the instructor hurriedly looked away, appearing faintly fearful.

"I remember now; he was one of the ones who laid hands on me this morning."

Chen Zhuo thought about it, but didn't pay it much mind.

He picked up the Red Mud Paste and turned to leave.

Suddenly, a cold voice rang out from behind him.

It sounded somewhat familiar.

"Chen Zhuo, I want to spar with you."