Predicament

Chen Jianghe had been at the Xingyi Martial Arts Hall for half a month, and his days had been steady enough.

Every day was spent in relentless practice of the "San Ti Shi Stance." Before the sky had even brightened, he would already be standing in the courtyard, training hard.

Soreness, swelling, numbness, and pain took turns assaulting his body, as if his very frame were being dismantled and pieced back together.

He gritted his teeth, adjusting his breathing over and over, feeling that faint, infinitesimal sensation of "stretching" between his sinews and bones.

[Fate: Heaven rewards the diligent; success is inevitable]

[Current Skill: San Ti Shi Stance (Not yet initiated)]

[Progress: 20%]

[Effect: None]

Chen Jianghe ended his stance and leaned against a wooden post, gasping for air. He ignored the aching in his body, his heart filled with anxiety.

The martial arts hall provided two meals a day, both consisting of coarse grain cakes and salted vegetables—enough to fill one's stomach, but hardly nutritious.

Although Uncle Liu would quietly slip him some meat scraps, which he wrapped in oil paper and hid under his bedding to gnaw on with cold water at night, it wasn't a long-term solution, and it was far from enough.

In just half a month, Chen Jianghe felt his body weakening. His calves trembled violently while standing in the stance; where he could once hold it for an hour, now his vision would blur after only thirty minutes.

He knew this was a depletion of his vital energy and blood. He needed ample meat and medicinal supplements; otherwise, his body could not sustain the repeated, effective practice required, and his progress would only continue to slow.

At noon that day, after finishing his training, he sat under the veranda to catch his breath, feeling his limbs go soft and his vision swim.

He squeezed the money pouch in his tunic. The original five taels of silver were nearly gone, consumed by the need for meat supplements. The path of martial arts was truly a "gold-devouring pit."

"Feeling like you've been hollowed out?" a calm voice came from beside him.

Chen Jianghe looked up to see his senior brother, He Shouzhuo. He moved to stand, but He Shouzhuo waved him down.

He Shouzhuo squatted beside him. "It's normal. That's how the 'exchange of strength' works. The old power is gone, but the new power hasn't yet emerged; it's when the body is at its most depleted. Relying solely on the hall's food is definitely not enough. But you have to find your own way to supplement it."

Chen Jianghe squeezed his shriveled money pouch and said nothing.

Seeing his movement, He Shouzhuo sighed. "Those of us from poor families are all like this. When I first started, I emptied my family's savings and still barely scraped through the first three months. It's a bit better now, though."

He Shouzhuo pulled an oil-paper parcel from his tunic and shoved it into Chen Jianghe's hand. "Take it."

Chen Jianghe took it and opened it to find a coarse flour cake mixed with a little minced meat, still slightly warm.

"Senior Brother, I can't..."

"Enough talk," He Shouzhuo interrupted. "I'm not giving it away for free. Our hall is too desolate."

He squatted back down, looking at the few scattered junior brothers in the courtyard, his voice dropping lower. "You've seen it yourself—including you, there are only eleven of us. Even though Master's fees are cheap, our Xingyi Martial Arts Hall has long since fallen into decline. Besides, the threshold for the 'exchange of strength' in Xingyi Fist is high; out of a hundred people, fewer than ten can survive this hurdle, let alone the three stages that follow. Those wealthy sons who can afford the tuition—who would want to come here?"

He paused, then added, "Third Senior Brother is an exception, though. He's generous and the eldest grandson of the Su Family Escort Agency in the outer city. It seems he only came because of some connection to Master, though I don't know the specifics."

Chen Jianghe gripped the meat cake, the oil paper rustling softly in his palm.

He Shouzhuo curled his lips in a bitter smile. "Over the years, people have come and gone like a revolving lantern. Some couldn't endure the three months and left; others made it through, realized they needed to eat more meat and spend more money, and left as well."

He looked at Chen Jianghe. "Master doesn't say it, but he keeps it in his heart. You're willing to endure hardship; the drive you show when standing in the stance—everyone sees it."

He paused. "Keep at it. Add one more person to our hall."

With that, he didn't wait for Chen Jianghe to thank him, but turned and walked toward the back courtyard, his silhouette looking somewhat lonely.

Chen Jianghe gripped the cake, his throat working.

After finishing his training in the evening, Chen Jianghe dragged his sore, weak body toward Loach Bay.

The setting sun stained the river surface the color of blood. Smoke from cooking fires drifted from the boat area of Loach Bay, mingling with the smell of fish and damp wood.

As he approached his own dilapidated boat, he saw Lin standing at the bow, peering out. Seeing him return, she waved quickly. "Jianghe!"

Chen Jianghe jumped onto the deck, and Lin pulled him into the cabin. She took a ceramic bowl from the stove; inside was half a bowl of fish soup stewed until it was milky white, with a few wild greens floating in it.

"Drink it quickly. We were lucky today; we caught a crucian carp in the net." Lin pushed the bowl toward him.

Chen Jianghe looked at the soup, then at the undisguised fatigue on his mother's face, and didn't move.

"Mother, have you eaten?"

Lin urged him, "I have, I have. There's more in the pot. Drink it while it's hot."

Chen Jianghe picked up the bowl. He drank the soup very slowly, carefully swallowing every drop.

After finishing, he scraped up the bits at the bottom of the bowl before setting it down.

Lin watched him, hesitating to speak.

"Mother, is something wrong?" Chen Jianghe asked.

Lin rubbed her hands together, her voice dropping. "At noon today, people from the Black Tiger Gang came by again."

Chen Jianghe's heart tightened. "What did they come for?"

Lin frowned. "They didn't say anything. They just circled our boat a couple of times, took a few looks, and left. I don't feel right about it. Even though everyone says that business with Wang Biao was just a gang feud, I don't know if they might blame us..."

Chen Jianghe was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "Unlikely. I suspect Wang Biao is dead, and since this territory is changing hands, they're just here to scout the area and get the lay of the land."

Lin sighed. "Mother knows, but my heart is just in a panic. I heard there's a 'Sun Moon Cult' going around robbing people of their silver lately. The officials never step in either. In these times, why can't a person just live in peace?"

Chen Jianghe said, "Don't worry, Mother. Once I successfully complete my 'Change of Strength,' I'll be an official disciple of the martial arts hall. By then, they wouldn't dare do anything to us."

Lin looked at him, her eyes reddening, but in the end, she only nodded. "Mother believes in you."

That night, Chen Jianghe lay on his bunk, listening to the river water slapping against the hull of the boat as he calculated his remaining money.

He had paid ten taels for his apprenticeship, and over the last half-month, he had spent three taels on energy and nutrition.

At this rate, he wouldn't even last the month, but he had to practice the Xingyi Fist, and he had to succeed.

He turned over, facing the cabin wall.

The next day, before the street market in the outer city had fully packed up, some food stalls lit their oil lamps, the smell of grease drifting through the dim, yellow glow.

Chen Jianghe walked up to a butcher shop. The stall was preparing to close; only a few pieces of pork belly—mostly fat—and a section of pig bone remained on the chopping block.

Chen Jianghe asked, "Boss, how much for the meat?"

The butcher was a man with a face full of jowls. He glanced at the short jacket Chen Jianghe wore from the martial arts hall. "Two hundred wen a catty for the pork belly."

Chen Jianghe squeezed his coin purse. "I'll take a catty of pork belly. Could you throw in the bone?"

The butcher sneered. "Little brother, I'm running a business here, not a charity."

Despite his words, he cut a piece of meat with a good mix of fat and lean, weighed it—exactly one catty—and casually tossed the meatless bone from the block into the oil-paper parcel. "Fine. You look like a new face, and you look like you practice martial arts. Take the bone scraps back to boil some broth."

Chen Jianghe took the parcel and thanked him repeatedly.

Just as he turned to leave, a burst of jeering laughter erupted from across the street.

Several men in black short jackets walked over, arms slung over each other's shoulders. Leading them was Li Gouzi, a man with a scar on his face—one of the lackeys who had followed Wang Biao to Loach Bay that day.

Chen Jianghe felt a chill in his heart. He lowered his head and quickened his pace, trying to skirt around them.

"Yo! Isn't this the kid from Loach Bay?" Li Gouzi's voice was mocking. "Stop right there!"

As he spoke, the men fanned out, blocking Chen Jianghe's path.

Chen Jianghe had no choice but to stop. He looked up, his face displaying just the right amount of panic and obsequiousness. "Brother Gou, are you calling me?"

Li Gouzi looked him up and down, his gaze landing on the oil-paper parcel in his hand. "Buying meat?"

"Yes... yes."

Li Gouzi grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "Living the good life, aren't you? Brother Biao hasn't been dead for more than a few days, and you're already eating meat?"

The lackeys beside him roared with laughter.

Chen Jianghe shrank his neck, shielding the parcel against his chest, his voice trembling. "My mother isn't well, so I'm getting some medicine and buying the cheapest fat to render into oil to help her recover."

Li Gouzi leaned in closer, the smell of alcohol spraying onto his face. "What a filial son. If your mother is sick, why didn't you come to the Black Tiger Gang to borrow some money? We value loyalty above all else; if our neighbors are in trouble, we're sure to help out!"

Chen Jianghe shrank back. "I wouldn't dare trouble you, sir."

Li Gouzi reached out and patted Chen Jianghe's shoulder hard, laughing. "No trouble at all. We still haven't gotten to the bottom of what happened to Brother Biao. Isn't it strange? He just lent your family money, and then he turns up dead in an alleyway?"

He paused, watching with satisfaction as Chen Jianghe's face turned deathly pale. "You kid, you didn't see anything that day, did you? Hmm?"

Chen Jianghe's face went white, his voice trembling. "I... I don't know. Brother Gou, please see the truth!"

Li Gouzi stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter, turning back to his lackeys. "Look at how scared this kid is."

He pulled his hand back and flicked it. "Alright, get lost. Remember: if you have any trouble, come find the Black Tiger Gang. We value loyalty the most. Also, even though Brother Biao is dead, that debt is the gang's debt. By the end of the month, principal and interest—not a single coin less! We'll come find your mother ourselves to collect!"

Chen Jianghe bowed repeatedly. "Yes, yes! I will definitely pay it back! By then, I might still need to rely on Brother Gou to... to let me turn it around."

Li Gouzi nodded in satisfaction and laughed. "Heh! You're a smart one. Let's go."

Chen Jianghe didn't dare linger. He immediately lowered his head and ducked into a nearby alley, his gaze cold and sharp as he watched their retreating backs.