Serve Him Well?

Chen Zhuo wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling of other people's gazes gathering on him.

Before, it had always been because of his face. This time, it was because of his body.

Just moments ago, his whole body had flushed red like a branding iron. It would have been hard not to notice.

Chen Zhuo clenched his fist, and his distinct knuckles gave a faint crack.

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

Most of all, he could feel the strength in his fist. Even though being watched by a crowd made him somewhat uncomfortable, he was still intoxicated by it.

Things were different now.

Things would never be the same again.

"Now that you've taken up martial arts, the gates of the martial path have opened to you."

"Congratulations, Brother Chen."

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

A tall, fat man stood two or three paces away, narrowing his eyes as he cupped his hands in congratulations.

The fat man had fair, smooth skin and an air of refinement, entirely unlike the downtrodden White-Uniform Runners around them.

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

There were eighty-seven White-Uniform Runners in Baiyun County, but only three or five of them stood out. Fatty Sun was one of them.

It was said that his family was wealthy, but why he had come to work as a White-Uniform Runner was beyond Chen Zhuo's knowledge.

Of the Three Squads of Yamen Runners, Chen Zhuo belonged to the Black-Uniform Squad, while Fatty Sun was in the Swift Squad.

They had dealt with each other before, but not often.

"Congratulations, congratulations..."

One after another, the people around them followed Fatty Sun's lead and offered their congratulations.

Chen Zhuo simply smiled and cupped his hands in response to each of them.

Most of the White-Uniform Runners barely knew one another. Their congratulations now were probably not sincere.

If their squad leader hadn't been standing up on the platform, they likely wouldn't even have bothered with the pretense.

"Being taught by a master really is different. It's all in the details."

"The Red Mud Paste helped a lot too. I just don't know what's gotten into the Yamen this time. They're actually willing to use Red Mud Paste to help us train."

Chen Zhuo rubbed his face, which had stiffened from smiling, and pondered in silence. Then he raised his eyes and looked ahead.

When he looked at Yao Xiong, Yao Xiong was already looking at him.

The man's sharp gaze made Chen Zhuo's eyelid twitch.

Squad Leader Yao's martial cultivation was probably even higher than he'd imagined.

"What's your name?"

Yao Xiong addressed him in front of everyone, his voice landing on Chen Zhuo.

"Chen Zhuo."

Chen Zhuo replied without so much as a blush.

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

He left it at that, then swept his gaze over the crowd and spoke in a clear voice. "You're surely wondering why the Yamen has suddenly shown such generosity. Red Mud Paste isn't exactly cheap, and it's not something you could normally afford to use."

Confusion showed on the White-Uniform Runners' faces.

"The imperial court has issued an official notice. The Yamen Runners' selection, previously held once every three years, will now be held once a year. In other words, in a little over a month, every one of you will have a chance to become a full-fledged Yamen Runner."

"What's more, this year's intake will be increased by two, on top of the one person admitted in previous years."

Yao Xiong paused, then continued, "Starting today, until the assessment is over, Red Mud Paste will be issued once every three days. At noon, you'll each get a bowl of Blood-Strengthening Soup. If that isn't enough, you can buy as much as you want for ten coins a bowl."

"Your chance has come."

Most of the White-Uniform Runners stood there dumbstruck, as if their minds hadn't yet caught up.

After a few breaths, they finally understood, and the crowd erupted.

Three people selected each year?

The competition would still be fierce, but compared to the harsh promotion requirements before, this was like a meat pie falling from the sky.

They had come to work as White-Uniform Runners at the Yamen without wages and with a heavy workload for exactly this chance, hadn't they?

"No wonder."

Chen Zhuo took a deep breath, calming the tide of emotion surging inside him.

Fatty Sun reacted quickly and hurriedly asked, "May I ask, Squad Leader, whether there are any specific promotion requirements?"

Yao Xiong replied expressionlessly, "Reaching Minor Accomplishment in Iron Cloth Shirt is the basic requirement. As for the assessment a month from now, you'll find out when the time comes."

Minor Accomplishment in Iron Cloth Shirt?

Those words poured a basin of cold water over the White-Uniform Runners.

Even reaching the entry level was difficult, let alone mastering it.

That single requirement would eliminate eighty percent of them, perhaps even ninety.

"Too hard."

The sudden swing from joy to despair was too much for some to bear. One person collapsed to the ground on the spot.

Yao Xiong took in everyone's reactions but said nothing more. He simply left the Drill Ground.

He had taught everything that needed teaching and said everything that needed saying.

What remained was up to fate.

Soon, several Yamen Runners carried over a wooden barrel nearly as tall as a person.

Chen Zhuo eyed the barrel. It looked rather familiar.

Wasn't that the barrel they used to serve food from?

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

After finishing a bowl of Blood-Strengthening Soup, Chen Zhuo felt as if his whole body were burning.

His exhausted strength quickly returned to a considerable degree.

"Good stuff."

Chen Zhuo licked his lips, staring fixedly at the big wooden barrel. He wished he could climb right inside.

If he could drink Blood-Strengthening Soup at all times, what would stop him from succeeding in martial arts?

But when he thought of the few copper coins left in his pocket, all he could do was gaze longingly at the "soup."

He was poor.

"Another bowl."

Fatty Sun walked over with his empty bowl and tossed down a large silver ingot.

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

The Yamen Runner serving the soup was stunned by Fatty Sun's generosity.

Fatty Sun shook his head and pointed into the crowd. "That bowl is for him. I want the one beside you."

The one beside him... the whole barrel?

The Yamen Runner serving the soup: "..."

"Rich bastard. Can you even finish all that?"

Quite a few people present saw Fatty Sun's outrageously lavish gesture and cursed him under their breath.

Chen Zhuo couldn't curse him.

Because the person Fatty Sun had pointed to was none other than him.

"Brother Sun?"

Chen Zhuo asked, puzzled.

"Brother Chen, today you've embarked on the martial path. I, Sun Fei, offer you this soup in celebration. I hope you won't refuse."

Fatty Sun cupped his hands toward Chen Zhuo and smiled.

As he spoke, he took the ladle from the Yamen Runner, filled two bowls, and carried them over to Chen Zhuo.

"Not only is he handsome, but the squad leader praised him too. Who knows, he may well achieve great things in the future."

"Father told me never to look down on anyone. Those really were golden words."

The more Fatty Sun thought about it, the more worthwhile it seemed. He handed Chen Zhuo the bowls of soup with a steady hand.

"Brother Chen, let's drink to this. I'll go first!"

Gulp, gulp...

Chen Zhuo stared straight at Fatty Sun. After hesitating for a moment, he drained the soup in his hand.

The familiar heat surged through his body once more, but it couldn't compare to the fire burning in his heart right now.

It wasn't because he'd gotten ten coins' worth for free. It was because, for the first time, he had felt the benefits martial arts could bring.

"Good! Hahaha..."

Fatty Sun walked over to the big wooden barrel, lifted it with a hearty laugh, and strode off.

The Yamen Runner serving the soup was momentarily stunned. Then he realized something was wrong and hurried after him.

"Give me back the barrel!"

"With all that money, why had a rich young master come to be a White-Uniform Runner instead of lounging around at home?"

Chen Zhuo gave it a little thought, then shook his head and cast aside all his doubts.

It was another family's business, after all.

What he needed to do now was train, and train was all he could do.

There was still time before work. Taking advantage of the strength restored by the Blood-Strengthening Soup, Chen Zhuo decided to practice Iron Cloth Shirt once more.

Half an hour passed.

[Iron Cloth Shirt +1]

It was time to go to work. Though the White-Uniform Runners were reluctant to stop, they had to hurry off one after another.

Chen Zhuo was no exception.

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

[Training Method: Iron Cloth Shirt (1/100) (Entry Level)]

[Combat Method: None]

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

The changes on the panel were heartening.

Chen Zhuo was about to leave when someone suddenly called out to him.

"Instructor?"

It was the Yamen Runner who had taught them martial arts. He was slender and tall, with a baby face, and always wore an innocent expression.

"You are indeed handsome and good-looking. What's even rarer is that you've got some grit when it comes to martial arts."

"Your natural aptitude is ordinary, but you have some talent."

"Not bad."

The martial arts instructor looked Chen Zhuo up and down, studying him carefully. He nodded slightly. "My name is Huang Yuan'er. You can call me Brother Yuan'er."

He had introduced himself in a relaxed tone, as casually as if he were chatting with a newly made friend.

Yet Chen Zhuo felt a sudden sense of suffocation.

That naked gaze was like a beast sizing up its prey before devouring it, making every hair on his body stand on end.

"After teaching you martial arts for so long, do you know why I never told you my name?"

Chen Zhuo opened his mouth to answer, but Huang Yuan'er cut him off.

"Because you weren't worthy."

Huang Yuan'er grinned, baring a neat set of teeth. "But now, you're just barely worthy."

"Do you know why?"

Chen Zhuo shook his head and fell silent.

Huang Yuan'er said nothing. He simply stepped forward and slowly reached out one hand.

He seemed to rest it casually on Chen Zhuo's shoulder, but his fingers curled around him like an eagle's claws.

Chen Zhuo's expression shifted.

This chilling feeling was strangely familiar.

That wasn't all.

Huang Yuan'er's next words nearly made Chen Zhuo spit up the soup he'd just drunk.

"To earn the favor of the Chief Clerk is the greatest good fortune of your life."

"From now on, you'll have to serve him well."