True Blood Martial Arts

"A few of you, come help Master Chen gather these things on the ground and take them to the back kitchen."

The commotion caused by Chen Zhuo and Huang Yuan'er's exchange had been significant, drawing a crowd of yamen runners and White-Uniform Runners.

With a casual wave of Fifth Master's hand, three White-Uniform Runners immediately stepped forward to clear away the scattered spices and ingredients.

"Thanks."

Chen Zhuo offered his thanks, and the runners waved their hands repeatedly.

"It's just a small matter, Master Chen, no need to be so polite."

"Master Chen works hard in the kitchen cooking for us all the time; how could we dare accept your thanks for such a trifle..."

They certainly are quick-witted...

Watching the three men busily cleaning up, Chen Zhuo suddenly remembered that he, too, was still a White-Uniform Runner.

Yet, due to his improvement in martial arts, he now enjoyed treatment far exceeding his official status.

The words of these men were filled with reverence, and even a hint of sycophancy.

Fifth Master leaned in, lowering his voice to whisper in Chen Zhuo's ear with a smile:

"The one in the middle is my own nephew. The lad has decent bones, but his natural talent is limited, and he just can't seem to have a breakthrough. I wonder, when Master Chen has a moment, could you offer him a few pointers on his martial arts?"

Chen Zhuo glanced at Fifth Master with some surprise; the expectant look in the man's eyes left him feeling somewhat dazed.

He still remembered the cold, indifferent attitude the man had shown when he first arrived at the Swift Squad not long ago.

Looking at him now, he was like a completely different person.

"In a few days. When I have some free time, have him come to the back kitchen to find me."

Chen Zhuo did not agree immediately, but he did not refuse either.

Hearing this, Fifth Master's face immediately broke into a wide grin, his thin mustache curling up with delight.

"Right you are! Having your word is enough."

By the time the silhouette of the back kitchen appeared in Chen Zhuo's line of sight, the sunset had faded, and the sky was growing dim.

The kitchen fires had mostly been extinguished, and the distribution of the night meal had begun.

A long line had formed at the kitchen entrance, and as Chen Zhuo walked along, people greeted him one after another.

Clearly, the conflict between him and Huang Yuan'er had spread through the entire yamen at lightning speed.

"Master Chen."

Chen Zhuo gave a slight nod, saying nothing more, and slipped into the back kitchen alone.

"You're back."

Yan Ming had just finished his work and was wiping his hands with a rag. Seeing Chen Zhuo walk in, he offered only a lukewarm greeting.

His attitude was a stark contrast to the people outside.

"You certainly time things well, coming back just as it's time to eat."

Chen Zhuo smiled slightly, unbothered by Yan Ming's sarcasm, and placed the fishing net from his waist onto the cutting board.

Yan Ming's nostrils flared, and he suddenly turned his head, staring fixedly at the Spirit Fish on the board, dumbfounded:

"Three Spirit Fish?"

Chen Zhuo laughed: "Master Chef Yan, these three Spirit Fish will have to rely on you; I can't handle them just yet."

"The true blood is mine, and we'll split the meat. How about that?"

"Deal."

Yan Ming agreed instantly. He looked Chen Zhuo up and down, surprised:

"I never expected that a trip to the Ghost Market would net you such a windfall."

"Tell me, where did the money come from? I recall that with the silver notes I gave you, you only had about fifty taels. That wouldn't be enough to buy three Spirit Fish."

Chen Zhuo grabbed the Spirit Fish and tossed them one by one into a large barrel filled with water.

As the Spirit Fish hit the water with a splash, he swept his gaze over Yan Ming and replied with a smile: "Guess?"

"Guess my foot."

Yan Ming laughed and cursed, not minding that Chen Zhuo hadn't told him the truth.

Everyone had secrets; he was just a senior fellow apprentice, not a worm in Chen Zhuo's belly.

"Is the Old Blind Man doing alright?"

"He's fine."

Yan Ming asked casually.

After hearing Chen Zhuo's reply, he nodded and walked straight to the large barrel. He pulled out a Spirit Fish, examined it intently, and unconsciously licked his lips:

"Once you've tasted the flavor of this Spirit Fish, you can never forget it."

"Come and assist me."

"Understood."

After much fussing, the two finally finished processing the three fish when the moon was bright and the stars were sparse.

Having watched Yan Ming dissect the fish with his own eyes, Chen Zhuo finally understood why Tiger Demon True Blood was so hard to come by.

Even if one had an abundance of Spirit Fish, this dissection technique was not a skill just anyone possessed.

It was no wonder that even a martial arts expert like Old Blind Man would hold Yan Ming in such high regard.

Yan Ming was truly capable of peeling the hair-thin blood vessels, along with the fish's heart, out of the body completely intact.

Some of the vessels were so infinitesimally small that they were barely visible to the naked eye.

The True Blood flowed slowly from the ruptured vessels into an empty porcelain bottle.

However, the fish were small and the blood was scarce; the True Blood from all three Spirit Fish didn't even amount to thirty percent of that previous bottle of Tiger Demon True Blood.

After finishing the three fish, Yan Ming could no longer hide the weariness on his face. He plopped down onto a recliner, panting heavily, and sighed softly:

"It has been too long; my skills have grown quite rusty after all."

"I leave the rest to you. Spirit Fish have their own natural flavor, so you don't need to do much to cook them."

Chen Zhuo tucked the porcelain bottle containing the True Blood into his robes and turned to begin processing the fish meat with practiced ease.

[Dissection Technique +1]

[Dissection Technique +1]

With every stroke of the knife, his Dissection Technique improved.

Soon.

He set up the pot, boiled the water, and added the fish meat.

After boiling for less than a quarter of an hour, a strange fragrance wafted from the large pot.

Chen Zhuo took a sniff; besides a peculiar floral scent, it felt as if a refreshing coolness surged straight to his brain, leaving him feeling invigorated.

No wonder Senior Brother Yan was willing to put so much effort into these three fish. If the aroma alone is this stunning, I can only imagine how it will taste.

He swallowed hard and turned to see Yan Ming staring fixedly at the pot, unable to tear his eyes away.

"There is a jar of aged wine under the stove. Bring it out, and tonight, we brothers shall have a proper feast."

A short while later.

Chen Zhuo brought the pot and the fish back to the small courtyard.

In no time at all, the two had eaten their fill. Not only did they finish every drop of the fish meat and soup, but they even chewed up and swallowed the fish bones.

The entire jar of aged wine was also drained to the last drop.

This was the most satisfying meal Chen Zhuo had ever had.

Although the Spirit Fish meat did not have the miraculous effects of the True Blood, eating it washed away all his fatigue and fully restored his stamina.

Yan Ming's condition had also improved significantly.

"Go on, I'll handle the cleanup."

Yan Ming squinted, waving his hand leisurely.

Chen Zhuo understood his intent, cupped his hands in a salute, and turned to walk into the training room.

As soon as he entered, three large barrels of Blood-Strengthening Soup appeared in his line of sight.

Chen Zhuo's eyes flickered as he recalled the scene of the first time he poured the Blood-Strengthening Soup.

Back then, his martial arts were only just at the entry level.

Chen Zhuo lined up the nine porcelain bottles containing demon blood along the edge of the pool.

Half a bottle of True Blood, and eight bottles of fake blood.

How far will my martial arts reach this time?

As the thought crossed his mind, Chen Zhuo stripped off his clothes and leaped into the pool.

He picked up the half-bottle of True Blood and poured it into the pool of Blood-Strengthening Soup without a moment's hesitation.

"Glug, glug."

The moment the True Blood hit the soup, the entire pool began to bubble and gradually boil.

Chen Zhuo sat amidst it, illusions manifesting before his eyes, but with the experience from last time, he kept his mind clear and remained unmoved.

The impact of the illusions on him was extremely limited.

He calmly assumed a punching stance and, following the training method of the Iron Cloth Shirt, began to continuously splash the soup and strike his entire body.

[Iron Cloth Shirt +3]