Meeting Cheng Lianshan

Early the next morning, after breakfast, Wang Chong led Chen Jing through streets and alleys to a quiet lane.

A wooden sign nailed to the blue-brick wall at its entrance read "Deer Cry Alley."

Black-tiled roofs and white walls lined both sides. Branches reached over the courtyard walls, and a grand mansion stood at the far end.

Its doors were painted vermilion, two stone beasts stood outside, and an ebony plaque above the entrance read "Lianshan Martial Arts Hall."

Wang Chong stepped forward and knocked.

The door creaked open a crack.

A young servant poked his head out and looked the two of them up and down.

"Are you here to study martial arts?"

Wang Chong had told Chen Jing about the rules at Lianshan Martial Arts Hall.

The hall did accept students from outside.

But the admission fee alone was ten taels of silver, with another five taels due each month for tuition. That came to seventy taels a year.

That expense alone kept poor families outside its doors.

Even working from dawn till dark, Butcher Zhang's pork shop earned only five to ten taels a month.

Without Instructor Wang's help and the system at his side, Chen Jing would not have dared cross this threshold either.

"I'm looking for Master Cheng. I'm an old acquaintance of his."

"My name is Wang Chong."

The servant went in to announce them. He soon returned with a warm smile and opened the door to let them through.

They passed through a corridor and across the front courtyard.

Chen Jing saw a spacious Martial Arts Arena.

Stone locks, wooden racks, and swords, spears, sabers, and halberds stood around the arena. A dozen or so men practiced stances under the watch of a stern-faced young man.

The shape of their stances was unmistakable: the Fierce Tiger Stance.

Chen Jing understood at once. Wang Chong had brought him to Lianshan Martial Arts Hall for more than the fact that Cheng Lianshan had once been his squad leader.

The Cheng Family Martial Hall taught martial arts from the border army tradition, the very lineage of the Fierce Tiger Stance he practiced.

He would not have to struggle to switch disciplines.

He only had to keep following this path.

Before long, the two were led into the main hall of the inner courtyard.

Chen Jing raised his eyes and glanced around.

A man in his fifties sat at the head of the hall.

His temples were lightly streaked with gray, but his complexion was ruddy and his build imposing. He sat as still as a mountain, his presence formidable.

By Chen Jing's current judgment,

the man's presence was no less commanding than that of Li Dingfang, the Green-Clad Officer of the Six Gates. He simply had less of Li Dingfang's sharp chill and more steady weight.

A woman sat beside him.

She was gentle and dignified, with the bearing of a woman from a distinguished family.

Nearby stood two young people, a man and a woman.

The woman had bright eyes and white teeth, and looked both athletic and radiant.

The man stood tall, his face stern and somewhat like the older man's. A faint pride showed in his expression.

An elderly steward with graying hair also stood to one side, hands at his sides.

Wang Chong cupped his fists as soon as he entered, a rare smile on his face.

"Greetings, Squad Leader Cheng. After all these years, you're as impressive as ever."

"My wife sent a little something. Please accept it, Squad Leader."

He handed the flower cakes and the tea leaves they had picked and dried to the steward beside him.

Cheng Lianshan laughed, his voice booming like a bell.

"You rascal, Wang! Don't call me Squad Leader. It makes us sound like strangers. Call me Old Cheng, like you used to."

"You haven't come to see me in years. Come on, what wind blew you here?"

Cheng Lianshan had served in the army and was used to speaking plainly.

Wang Chong did not beat around the bush either.

"Old Cheng, I found a promising martial arts prospect in Shuang'an Town. I brought him for you to have a look."

At that, Chen Jing stepped forward at the right moment and saluted them both.

"I'm Chen Jing. Greetings, Master Cheng, Madam Cheng."

Cheng Lianshan studied Chen Jing for a few moments.

He had regular features and stood tall.

Since reaching Great Accomplishment in his stance training, Chen Jing's sinews and bones had opened up. He stood there brimming with vigor, like a White Wax Pole planted in the ground: straight and true, leaning neither left nor right.

"You want me to take him in?"

Cheng Lianshan looked at Wang Chong. "Has he practiced stance work?"

"He's trained with me in the militia for less than half a year," Wang Chong said.

"Little Jing, show Master Cheng and Madam Cheng what you can do."

Chen Jing did not hesitate. He immediately took the opening posture of the Fierce Tiger Stance.

The moment he settled into the stance, his whole presence changed. He moved from left to right, taking eight quick steps.

Each step differed in form and spirit. His spine rose and fell like a winding mountain range, while his blood and qi surged like the ebb and flow of the tide.

His feet struck the blue bricks, every lift and landing deep and steady, like a fierce tiger slowly prowling through a dense forest.

Cheng Lianshan's eyes lit up, and he nodded repeatedly.

"Good! Your form is clean, but it hasn't gone rigid. There's already something of the Tiger Form in it."

"Great Accomplishment in half a year. It seems you haven't hit a bottleneck. You have good aptitude."

Wang Chong smiled.

"The boy does have talent. He also comes from a poor family and trains extremely hard. He reached Great Accomplishment without ever taking a medicinal bath or using Blood-Replenishing Powder."

"Just before the new year, he helped me kill a band of bandits. An officer from the Six Gates awarded him Blood-Qi Pills, and he took two."

Cheng Lianshan's pupils contracted sharply.

"Is that true?"

The expressions of the young man and woman beside him changed slightly as well.

The young man had only glanced at Chen Jing out of the corner of his eye before. Now he turned to look at him properly.

The young woman's gaze grew more intent too.

There was good reason for the saying that literature was for the poor and martial arts for the rich.

Once the hall's students reached Minor Accomplishment in their stance work and began practicing punches and Inner Force every day, they also started using medicinal baths and Blood-Qi Powder.

Only then could their blood and qi, and their Inner Force, grow quickly.

And all of it cost hard silver.

Yet even with resources to help them, only students with exceptional aptitude and understanding who did not get stuck at a bottleneck could bring the Fierce Tiger Stance to Great Accomplishment within half a year.

Far more people were like Wang Chong: they hit a bottleneck partway along the martial path and remained stuck for life.

But the boy before them had never taken a medicinal bath or used Blood-Replenishing Powder. With just two Blood-Qi Pills, he had forced his way to Great Accomplishment in the Fierce Tiger Stance within half a year.

At any martial arts hall in Green Mountain City, talent like that would rank among the finest.

Meeting Cheng Lianshan's gaze, Chen Jing answered respectfully,

"I wouldn't dare deceive you, Master Cheng."

Cheng Lianshan burst out laughing and said "Good!" three times.

Then he asked Chen Jing, "Have you learned any fist techniques?"

"No. I've only practiced a few spear moves with Instructor Wang—chopping, sweeping, thrusting, and jabbing."

Cheng Lianshan smiled, entirely unconcerned.

"No matter. Qingshi, go test his Inner Force."

The young man beside him bowed. "Yes."

Wang Chong had told Chen Jing that Cheng Lianshan had a son named Cheng Qingshi, who had inherited his martial arts.

It seemed this stern young man was him.

Cheng Qingshi stepped into the center of the hall and cupped his fists toward Chen Jing.

His level gaze held a trace of coldness.

"Brother Chen, let's exchange one punch and test your strength. Attack with everything you have. My foundation is stronger than yours."

Chen Jing could see it.

Young Master Cheng was not putting on airs deliberately, but the arrogance in his bones was still plain to see.

Cheng Qingshi stopped three paces from Chen Jing and settled into the Fierce Tiger Stance. His stance was deeper and heavier than Chen Jing's.

He lowered his body slightly, his spine arched like a bow, his whole form like a tiger crouched and ready to spring.

Chen Jing had never learned fist techniques, but Wang Chong had explained how to throw a punch and release force.

A punch was, in essence, a spear thrust without the spear.

A straight punch and a spear thrust drew power the same way: force rose from the ground, the waist twisted, the hips turned, and the fist shot out like a spear.