Serve Well?

This was not the first time Chen Zhuo had felt the gazes of others converge upon him.

In the past, it had always been because of his face, but this time, it was because of his body.

Just moments ago, his entire body had glowed red like a branding iron; it would have been difficult for anyone not to notice.

Chen Zhuo squeezed his fist hard, his well-defined knuckles instantly emitting a faint, crisp crackle.

The skin on the back of his hand was taut like a bowstring, thicker and far more resilient than before.

In particular, feeling the power surging in his fist made him feel intoxicated, even if being surrounded by onlookers made him slightly uncomfortable.

Everything was different now.

Everything would be different from now on.

"Once the kung fu takes hold, the gates of the martial path are open to you."

"Congratulations, Brother Chen."

Chen Zhuo relaxed his fingers and turned to find the source of the voice.

He discovered that just two or three paces away, a tall, rotund man was squinting his eyes and cupping his hands in congratulation.

The fatty had fair, tender skin and an air of distinction, standing in stark contrast to the miserable lot of White-Uniform Runners.

Chen Zhuo nodded slightly and returned the gesture: "Thank you, Brother Sun."

There were eighty-seven White-Uniform Runners in Baiyun County, but only three or five were truly eye-catching, and Fatty Sun was certainly among them.

Rumor had it that his family were wealthy merchants in the city; as for why he had come to serve as a White-Uniform Runner, that was beyond Chen Zhuo's knowledge.

Of the three squads of yamen runners, Chen Zhuo belonged to the Black-Uniform Squad, while Fatty Sun belonged to the Swift Squad.

The two had interacted, but not often.

"Congratulations, congratulations..."

Following Fatty Sun's lead, those around them began to offer their well-wishes one after another.

Chen Zhuo merely smiled and returned the gesture to each.

Most of the White-Uniform Runners had only shallow acquaintances with one another, and these congratulations were likely not from the heart.

If not for the Squad Leader standing on the platform, they probably wouldn't even bother with the superficial pleasantries.

"An expert teaching martial arts really is different; it's all in the details."

"The Red Mud Paste was a huge help, too. I just don't know what got into the yamen this time to actually be willing to use Red Mud Paste for our training."

Chen Zhuo rubbed his face, which had grown stiff from smiling, and pondered to himself before lifting his gaze to look forward.

When he looked at Yao Xiong, Yao Xiong was looking right back at him.

The sharpness of that gaze made Chen Zhuo's eyelids twitch.

This Squad Leader Yao's martial cultivation was likely even higher than he had imagined.

"What is your name?"

Yao Xiong asked publicly, his voice landing squarely on Chen Zhuo.

"Chen Zhuo."

Chen Zhuo replied without blushing or skipping a beat.

Yao Xiong nodded slightly, scrutinized him for a moment, and said, "Not bad. You have the makings of a martial artist."

He left it at that, then swept his gaze across the crowd and announced in a loud voice: "You must be wondering—Red Mud Paste isn't exactly priceless, but it isn't something you can easily get your hands on either. Why would the yamen suddenly show such kindness?"

The White-Uniform Runners looked puzzled.

"The imperial court has issued an official dispatch. The recruitment of yamen runners, previously held every three years, has been changed to once a year. In other words, in just over a month, all of you will have the chance to become official yamen runners."

"Furthermore, the number of recruits this time has been increased by two, on top of the usual one."

Yao Xiong paused, then continued: "Starting today, until the assessment ends, Red Mud Paste will be distributed every three days, and there will be a bowl of Blood-Strengthening Soup every noon. If that isn't enough, it's ten wen a bowl, with unlimited supply."

"Your opportunity has arrived."

Most of the White-Uniform Runners stood stunned, their minds seemingly unable to process the news.

After a few breaths, they finally reacted, and a sudden uproar broke out.

Three recruits a year?

Even if the competition remained fierce, compared to the previous, harsh promotion requirements, this was no different from a pie falling from the sky.

Coming to the yamen to serve as a White-Uniform Runner, with no monthly salary and heavy labor—wasn't this the very opportunity they were all seeking?

"No wonder."

Chen Zhuo took a deep breath, calming the surging tide within his heart.

Fatty Sun was quick to react and hurriedly asked: "May I ask, Squad Leader, are there specific criteria for promotion?"

Yao Xiong replied expressionlessly: "Reaching the minor success stage of the Iron Cloth Shirt is the basic threshold. As for the assessment a month from now, you will know when the time comes."

Iron Cloth Shirt, minor success?

This statement was undoubtedly a bucket of cold water poured over the heads of the White-Uniform Runners.

Entry-level mastery was already difficult enough, let alone reaching minor success.

This single standard alone was enough to weed out eighty, or perhaps even ninety percent of the people.

"Too hard."

Unable to bear the sudden, violent swing between hope and despair, someone collapsed onto the ground on the spot.

Yao Xiong took in everyone's reactions at a glance, said nothing more, and walked straight off the Drill Ground.

Everything that needed to be taught had been taught, and everything that needed to be said had been said.

The rest was entirely up to fate.

Soon, several yamen runners carried over a wooden barrel as tall as a person.

Chen Zhuo looked at the barrel, finding it somewhat familiar.

Wasn't this the same barrel they usually used to hold rice?

"Line up in order, one bowl per person. If you want more, it's ten coppers a bowl."

As the bowl of Blood-Strengthening Soup went down, Chen Zhuo felt his entire body begin to heat up.

His previously exhausted stamina recovered quite a bit in short order.

"Good stuff."

Chen Zhuo licked his lips, his eyes fixed intently on the large wooden barrel, wishing he could dive right into it.

If he could drink Blood-Strengthening Soup at all times, why worry about failing in the martial path?

But at the thought of the few remaining copper coins in his pocket, Chen Zhuo could only sigh at the "soup."

Poverty, truly.

"Give me another bowl."

Fatty Sun walked over holding an empty bowl and tossed down a large silver ingot.

"Twenty taels of silver, and you only want one bowl of soup?"

Fatty Sun's extravagance left the soup-serving runner stunned.

Fatty Sun shook his head and pointed his finger toward the crowd: "Give that bowl to him, and I want the one next to it."

The one next to it... the whole barrel?

The soup-serving runner: "..."

"Rich bastard, can you even finish that?"

Many people present saw Fatty Sun's inhuman display of wealth and cursed him under their breath.

Chen Zhuo could not curse.

Because the person Fatty Sun was pointing at was none other than him.

"Brother Sun?"

Chen Zhuo asked, puzzled.

"Brother Chen, today you have made progress on the martial path. I, Sun Fei, offer this soup as a token of congratulations. I hope Brother Chen will not find it beneath you."

Fatty Sun cupped his hands toward Chen Zhuo and smiled.

As he spoke, he took the ladle from the runner, scooped up two bowls, and brought them before Chen Zhuo.

Not only is he talented and handsome, but he also received personal praise from the squad leader. This man might just achieve great things in the future.

Father told me never to underestimate anyone; those were truly golden words.

The more Fatty Sun thought about it, the more he felt it was worth it, and he steadily handed the soup bowl to Chen Zhuo.

"Brother Chen, let us use soup in place of wine—I'll drink to your health first!"

"Gulp, gulp..."

Chen Zhuo stared straight at Fatty Sun, and after a moment of hesitation, he downed the soup in his hand in one go.

The familiar, scalding heat swept through his body once more, yet it could not compare to the burning sensation in his heart.

It wasn't because he had saved ten coppers, but because this was the first time he had truly experienced the benefits brought by martial arts training.

"Good, hahaha..."

Fatty Sun turned, walked to the large wooden barrel, lifted it with a laugh, and walked away.

The soup-serving runner was stunned for a moment, then realized something was wrong and chased after him.

"Give me back the barrel!"

A rich kid like that, why not just stay home and live in comfort? Why come here to be a White-Uniform Runner?

Chen Zhuo pondered for a moment, then shook his head, casting all doubts from his mind.

After all, it was someone else's business.

What he needed to do now was practice martial arts, and that was all he could do.

It was not yet time for work, so taking advantage of the stamina restored by the Blood-Strengthening Soup, Chen Zhuo intended to practice the Iron Cloth Shirt once more.

Half an hour passed.

[Iron Cloth Shirt +1]

The time had come; although the White-Uniform Runners were still eager for more, they had to leave one after another to make it to work on time.

Chen Zhuo was, of course, no exception.

[Realm: Body Tempering (Skin-Grinding Realm)]

[Practice: Iron Cloth Shirt (1/100) (Entry)]

[Combat: None]

[Technique: Vegetable Chopping Technique (35/40) (Minor Achievement)]

The changes on the panel were gratifying.

Chen Zhuo was just about to leave when he was suddenly called out to.

"Instructor?"

The person who arrived was the yamen runner who taught martial arts. He had a slender build and a baby face, always wearing an innocent expression in his daily life.

"Truly a man of talent and outstanding appearance; what is most rare is that he possesses a certain tenacity for martial arts."

"Although his innate talent is ordinary, he has some comprehension."

"Not bad."

The martial arts instructor looked Chen Zhuo up and down carefully, then nodded slightly. "My name is Huang Yuan'er; you can call me Brother Yuan'er."

The other party revealed his name with a relaxed tone, as if a new friend were chatting casually.

However, Chen Zhuo felt a sense of suffocation.

His naked gaze was much like a beast scrutinizing its prey before devouring it, making the hair on Chen Zhuo's entire body stand on end.

"I have been teaching you all martial arts for so long; do you know why I never told you my name?"

Chen Zhuo opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by Huang Yuan'er.

"Because you were not worthy."

Huang Yuan'er grinned, revealing a set of neat teeth, and said with a smile, "But now, you are barely worthy."

"Do you know why that is, too?"

Chen Zhuo shook his head, remaining silent and pensive.

Huang Yuan'er did not speak, but instead took a step forward and slowly reached out a hand.

It looked like a casual tap on Chen Zhuo's shoulder, but in reality, it clamped down like an eagle's claw.

Chen Zhuo's expression shifted slightly.

This chilling sensation was somewhat familiar.

That was not all.

The voice of Huang Yuan'er that followed next almost made him vomit the soup he had just drunk.

"To be favored by the Chief Clerk is truly the greatest fortune of your life."

"In the days to come, you must serve him well."