Making Final Arrangements

Chen Jing was still somewhat hesitant.

Seeing his hesitation, Wang Chong's tone eased a little.

"I'll tell you the truth. My martial training has been stuck at a bottleneck for a long time now, and I've reached this age besides. It's already good enough if my qi and blood can be maintained without declining."

"A Blood-Qi Pill won't do much for me. Taking it would just be a waste. There's no need. But you're different."

He looked at Chen Jing. "You're very talented."

"I stayed in the border army for over ten years and saw plenty of people. Those who could train their stance skill to a competent level in less than two months were one in a thousand."

"That kind of talent shouldn't be wasted for nothing. You should seize every resource you can use and raise yourself up as quickly as possible."

Chen Jing was silent for a moment, but he still reached out and accepted the porcelain bottle. He really did want the Blood-Qi Pill. "Instructor Wang, this is far too precious."

Wang Chong merely waved his hand.

"Don't feel burdened by it. Something like a Blood-Qi Pill is indeed rare for ordinary common folk like us."

"But in the eyes of those who truly have power and influence, it isn't that important. Martial training is martial training—your own talent is only one side of it. Martial resources are the weightiest thing of all."

Wang Chong patted his shoulder again and said earnestly, "Train the Fierce Tiger Stance to great accomplishment as soon as possible."

When he said those words, there seemed to be more left unsaid in his tone.

Chen Jing keenly caught that point, but since Wang Chong did not continue, he did not ask.

He merely nodded and answered, "All right."

That night, after Chen Jing settled Butcher Zhang down, he returned to his own room and poured that Blood-Qi Pill into his palm.

Chen Jing did not hesitate. He put the pill into his mouth.

A hot current exploded once more.

With the experience from last time, Chen Jing refined it much more smoothly this time. He assumed the Fierce Tiger Stance and guided the medicinal power to circulate, again and again, until the last trace of medicinal power had been absorbed cleanly.

By the time he ended the stance, his whole body was brimming with qi and blood, and his spirit was even fuller.

The Fierce Tiger Stance had risen by another five hundred points.

Chen Jing opened the panel and glanced at the latest number.

Fierce Tiger Stance (Competent: 1165/2000)

In just one day, the Fierce Tiger Stance had risen by 1,000 points.

Chen Jing could be said to be perfectly content. He thought again of what Wang Chong had said—of those powerful noble families and sects that regarded Blood-Qi Pills as commonplace.

How quickly, then, must their disciples cultivate? At this moment, Chen Jing felt like a frog at the bottom of a well, glimpsing the moon in the sky.

After the New Year passed, Shuang'an Town recovered a long-lost peace.

On the mountain roads outside town, the figures of traveling merchants and peddlers appeared again, carrying shoulder poles, driving donkey carts, and hawking miscellaneous goods from north and south.

Most of the sentry posts at the town entrance had also been withdrawn, leaving only two militiamen to take turns on duty.

The shouts of killing on the training ground grew sparser as well. Instructor Wang no longer drilled them every day, only having the young and able-bodied come once every other day to maintain their condition.

A few days later, news came from outside.

The fighting at Chuanbei Pass was over. The official army had beaten back the Western Rong invasion.

The bandits in the northern lands of Shuzhong had also been wiped clean one after another, with Six Gates taking the lead.

These days, more smiles appeared on the villagers' faces.

It was as if the dark cloud pressing over their heads had scattered.

But Butcher Zhang's body worsened further and further. His coughing illness grew more severe.

After watching the lanterns on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, he could no longer leave the house.

His whole body had grown so thin he no longer looked like himself. His cheekbones jutted high, his eye sockets were sunken deep, and the two hands resting on the quilt showed clear blue veins and knuckles, like withered tree roots.

At first, he could still lean against the headboard to eat. Later, he could not even swallow food and could only force down a few mouthfuls of rice soup.

Chen Jing invited many physicians, but every one of them shook their heads and sighed.

After taking his pulse, the old physician withdrew his hand, pulled Chen Jing into the outer room, and lowered his voice to say one sentence.

"His illness is three parts in the body, seven parts in the heart."

"He has nothing tying him to this world. His heart is dead, and he himself doesn't want to live. No amount of medicinal decoction can save him."

The old physician sighed, patted Chen Jing on the arm, picked up his medicine chest, and left.

Chen Jing stood in the courtyard, somewhat silent. Immediately afterward, he came back to himself and continued to decoct and boil medicine, keeping himself busy.

Butcher Zhang himself also knew he did not have many days left.

He had never studied, did not know how to read, and could not speak any grand principles.

But after slaughtering pigs for several decades and sending too many livestock on their way, his sense for death was sharper than anyone's.

That night, he, rarely, did not cough. Leaning against the headboard, he had Chen Jing turn the oil lamp brighter, then explained his affairs one by one.

"The silver at home is hidden in the earthen jar under the stove. It should be enough for you to spend for a while."

"Don't sell this shopfront."

"Even if you go out into the world in the future, keep it. If you ever feel the outside isn't good and want to come back, you'll still have a little nest."

This site has added a font-changing function. Click the "Settings" button and give switching it a try!

In response to the requests of our many readers, we have now launched a VIP membership ad-free function.

Click to view.

Chen Jing nodded. "I won't sell it."

"You've learned all my skills. There's nothing left for me to teach you."

"You're smarter than me, and you learn everything quickly. In the future, whether you stay in Shuang'an Town or go out to make your way, you won't starve."

Butcher Zhang coughed twice, then calmed down again.

"There's nothing I can't let go of. After I die, there's only one thing."

"Say it," Chen Jing said.

"See me off at the end." When Butcher Zhang said those four words, his tone was very calm.

"I picked you up so you could see me off at the end. I just didn't think it would be this soon."

"When the time comes, bury my coffin beside Aunt Zhao's family."

"Help me thicken my face and go be her neighbor. Then I won't be lonely after death either."

Chen Jing nodded silently and answered, "All right."

Butcher Zhang looked at him, then suddenly pulled the corners of his mouth back, revealing a smile uglier than crying.

"All right, stop wearing that funeral face. I've lived half my life, slaughtered pigs all my life, and at the end I picked you up and brought you home. I didn't lose out."

The second day of the second month—the dragon raised its head.

The earth warmed, and spring plowing began.

Out in the fields of Shuang'an Town, figures of farmers guiding plows had already appeared, and the willows by the river had sprouted tender goose-yellow buds.

On this day, Butcher Zhang's spirits were much better.

Not only did he get out of bed by himself, he even walked into the courtyard, grabbed the Butcher Knife, and personally took the blade to slaughter a pig.

Chen Jing stood beside him, watching him bleed it, scald the bristles, open the belly, and strip the bones. Every movement was exactly the same as before—clean and efficient, every cut landing where it should.

He even stood in front of the meat counter and personally called out for business.

Cutting meat, wrapping it, weighing it, taking money.

Then he exchanged a few pleasantries with the neighbors who came to buy meat, said, "Long time no see," and wished them, "Peace and good fortune."

"Old Zhang, you're looking pretty good today!" an old neighbor greeted him with a smile.

"Of course. Rested for a whole year, so it's about time I stretched these old bones."

Butcher Zhang bared his big teeth, smiling brilliantly.

Chen Jing stood behind him, watching the smile on his master's face, but his heart felt somewhat heavy.

At dusk, after they closed the shop, Butcher Zhang suddenly said, "Go buy two liang of wine."

Chen Jing froze for a moment. The physician had long since forbidden Butcher Zhang from touching wine, saying it damaged the lungs.

But he did not argue. He merely answered, turned, and went out, buying two liang of yellow wine from the wine shop at the mouth of the alley and bringing it back.

Butcher Zhang had already sliced a plate of pig's-head meat and set it on the stone table in the courtyard.

The early spring evening wind was still a little cool, but it was no longer so bone-piercing. Master and disciple sat in the courtyard, each with a bowl of wine.

Between them sat a plate of pig's-head meat, and above their heads was a sky full of scattered stars.

"When you've trained your Fierce Tiger Stance to great completion, go find Old Wang."

Butcher Zhang raised his wine bowl and took a sip, smacking his lips. A look of satisfaction that had not appeared on his face in a very long time surfaced.

"He has something to tell you."

Chen Jing nodded. "All right."

"If you go out in the future, think thrice before acting in all things."

"You have a quick mind. It's just that sometimes you're too good at keeping your composure, so it's easy for others to be unable to see through you."

Butcher Zhang picked up a piece of pig's-head meat and chewed it twice. "That's good too. You're not like me, noisy and blustering my whole life, offending quite a few people."

Butcher Zhang held his wine bowl, looked at the moon in the sky, and took another sip. In an unhurried tone, he said, "And also, if you meet a girl you like in the future."

"Be decisive."

Chen Jing grinned.

"Some days ago, someone came to Old Sun's family to propose, wanting to arrange a match for their niece."

Butcher Zhang said slowly, "The girl is called Liu Xiaolan. She's also from your militia."

"I've seen her a couple of times before. She's a fine girl, with proper features and a brisk, capable nature."

"If you think she's suitable, and you want to settle down and build a life in Shuang'an Town, steady and peaceful, that would be pretty good too."

Chen Jing's mind conjured Liu Xiaolan's figure: a thick, black braid, a hunting knife tucked at her waist, her eyes sharp and bright when she thrust her spear on the drill ground, like a nimble spotted deer.

He shook his head. "Master, I don't want to marry yet."

Butcher Zhang gave a heh, not angry, but instead looking as if he had expected this all along.

"I knew it. That's why I didn't agree."

He picked up his wine bowl, drained the last mouthful of wine, and wiped his mouth.

"All right. We'll drink to here today."

If you encounter ads like "Are you a real person?" there is no need to pay them any attention. Just close them. Do not scan any codes or send any text messages!

At the request of our many readers, we have now launched an ad-free feature for VIP members.

Click to view.