The air in the main hall suddenly grew heavy.
The musicians' strings fell abruptly silent, and the diners' gazes all converged on them.
Zhao Mingyuan pressed down on Li Tian's arm again, but his eyes turned to Su Derong. His voice turned cold. "Junior Brother Su, we have important business today and don't wish to quarrel with you. But if you keep hurling insults, don't blame me for forgetting our ties as fellow disciples."
"Ties as fellow disciples?" Su Derong sneered. "You two have no right to say those four words."
He was about to taunt them again when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Chen Jianghe give a slight shake of his head.
His gaze was calm, yet carried a steady resolve that brooked no doubt.
Su Derong drew a deep breath and forcibly suppressed his anger. He sat back down, tossing out only a cold, "Fine, I don't reason with dogs. Dogs can't understand, anyway."
Li Tian's face flushed with rage, his eyes wide and his fists clenched so tightly they creaked. But with Zhao Mingyuan having stopped him earlier and the present circumstances, he couldn't let loose.
Zhao Mingyuan's expression remained stern, though a trace of gloom flickered deep in his eyes.
He ignored Su Derong and instead looked toward Chen Jianghe, who had remained silent throughout. His tone gave nothing away. "You must be the junior brother our master just took in. I heard... there have been some rumors around the martial arts hall lately, saying your cultivation has advanced quite rapidly?"
At this, Li Tian whipped his head around and scrutinized Chen Jianghe, trying to spot some clue.
Beside him, Chen Wanglong kept his eyes lowered, as if he hadn't heard a thing. Only the faint curve of his mouth betrayed a trace of contempt that was difficult to notice.
Chen Jianghe saw through it all.
Zhao Mingyuan's question seemed casual, but was actually a probe.
He had only just reached Dark Strength and kept his aura restrained. Unless an expert at the Transformation Strength level deliberately examined him, it would be hard to see through him.
Zhao Mingyuan might not have been certain when he asked, but he was testing and observing him.
Chen Jianghe calmly set down his wine cup, stood, and gave Zhao Mingyuan a slight bow. His expression was frank, with just the right touch of embarrassment and unease. "Eldest Senior Brother."
He used the same form of address as before, his voice steady. "This junior is dull by nature. I've only relied on sheer hard work, training day after day without daring to slack off. Whatever progress I've made is all thanks to Master's strict guidance, Third Senior Brother's care, and a few insights I gained while escorting caravans. I was lucky enough to gain a little, that's all. I hardly deserve to be called 'rapid.' Compared with the heroic bearing of you and Second Senior Brother back in the day, I fall far short."
His words left no opening.
He admitted to "some progress," fitting the improvement expected of a diligent disciple, while crediting his master, senior brothers, and experience escorting caravans. It all sounded entirely reasonable.
At the same time, he modestly placed himself below Zhao Mingyuan and Li Tian, giving them due face and making it difficult for them to press him further.
Sure enough, Zhao Mingyuan scrutinized him for a moment, then slowly nodded and let the matter drop. He said only, "Diligence makes up for a lack of talent. That's a good thing. Don't disappoint Master or your Third Senior Brother."
Li Tian snorted, clearly unimpressed by Chen Jianghe's modest words. But when Zhao Mingyuan stopped questioning him, he had no choice but to withdraw his gaze with a disgruntled mutter: "Putting on airs..."
Su Derong waved his fan and sidelong glanced at Zhao Mingyuan, his voice laced with mockery. "Head Instructor Zhao is a busy man of importance these days, yet he still has time to concern himself with the younger generation at the martial arts hall? How rare. But reach too far and meddle too much, and you may break your wrist."
Zhao Mingyuan raised his eyelids slightly and shot Su Derong a cold glance. He didn't reply, simply turning and entering the private room.
Only then did the suppressed whispers around them rise into a buzzing murmur.
"That young man is Chen Wanglong? The genius from Zhenlei Martial Arts Hall who reached Bright Strength in half a year and Dark Strength at eighteen?"
"It must be him! I heard the Zhao Family offered him twenty jin of Exotic Beast Meat a month to recruit him, and who knows how much silver on top of that!"
"Tsk, tsk, Dark Strength at eighteen... With talent like that, even among the direct descendants of the Five Great Families in the Inner City, he'd be top-tier. The Zhao Family really struck gold this time. If they nurture him well, he might become a master at the Transformation Strength level one day!"
"If it weren't for that business with Lin Family Fort, the Zhao Family might already have made this Chen Wanglong..."
"Shh! Watch what you say! We'd best not ask about those matters..."
The murmurs drifted faintly over, but Chen Jianghe acted as if he hadn't heard them.
He slowly sat down, picked up the wine pot warming in hot water, and poured himself a cup.
Bright Strength in half a year, Dark Strength at eighteen.
The title of genius shone brilliantly.
But Chen Jianghe himself had needed only a little over a year to go from Tempering Strength to Dark Strength.
Counted from his three years working as a butcher with no foundation at all before transmigrating, it had taken him just over four years in total.
With the Heaven Rewards Diligence fate, he had no need to worry about hitting a bottleneck in talent. So long as he had enough resources, he could grind away steadily, and Dark Strength and Transformation Strength would both come naturally.
Chen Wanglong had exceptional talent, but with his fate, Chen Jianghe feared nothing.
It was just... resources.
His gaze returned to the three plates of costly game on the table.
This one meal alone cost four taels of gold.
What kind of fare and supplements did Chen Wanglong get every day at Zhenlei Martial Arts Hall and in the Zhao Family?
Wasn't this very abundance of resources the reason Zhao Mingyuan had resolutely left Xingyi Martial Arts Hall and thrown in his lot with the Zhao Family?
Seeing Chen Jianghe fall silent, Su Derong thought he had been upset. He gently tapped the back of Chen Jianghe's hand with the spine of his fan and murmured, "Jianghe, don't mind those two ungrateful wretches. Master must have been blind to take them in back then."
Chen Jianghe shook his head. "Senior Brother, I'm fine."
Su Derong nodded toward the private room. "That Chen Wanglong just now?"
Chen Jianghe tugged at the corner of his mouth. "My legitimate elder cousin."
Su Derong understood and smiled. "What, does it leave a bad taste in your mouth? Don't rush. You've already reached Dark Strength; you're just hiding your ability for now. When it comes to talent, you're definitely better than him. It's just that he has Zhenlei Martial Arts Hall behind him and now has the Zhao Family pouring resources into him, so he has far more than you. But you have your own path—the Xingyi Fist is an authentic internal style, with the most solid foundation. One day, you may well contend with him."
Chen Jianghe replied calmly, "Senior Brother, he and I are on different paths. Why should I contend with him? The heights of martial arts aren't decided by family background or empty fame. In the end, what matters is what your fists can do."
Hearing this, Su Derong tipped his head back and drained a cup of wine, then laughed heartily. "Well said! That's the truth!"
Chen Jianghe lowered his voice a little. "I was just thinking, Zhao Mingyuan and Li Tian probably didn't come here today just to eat. And then there's Chen Wanglong..."
Su Derong's expression turned serious, and his fan slowed. "You mean... the Zhao Family wants to use Chen Wanglong, this 'genius' signboard, to add weight to their side at the negotiating table?"
Chen Jianghe nodded slowly.
In troubled times, geniuses were a resource too—a form of capital that could be traded or used to intimidate.
But the tallest tree catches the wind.
"Senior Brother," he said, raising his cup, his voice steady and even, "thank you for treating me today. This game really is nourishing."
Su Derong paused, then burst out laughing and clinked his cup against Chen Jianghe's. "That's the spirit! Who cares about geniuses and ungrateful dogs? We'll eat well, drink well, and train our fists well. Nothing matters more!"
The cups clinked lightly, their clear ring lingering in the hall.
Outside the window, lanterns along the Inner City's main street lit up one after another, swallowing the last of the daylight. The night fell like ink, pressing down heavily.