Challenger

The next day, Chen Jing practiced as usual in the morning.

After lunch, he changed into the black martial uniform Hu Yang had given him, tucked the Butcher Knife into the back of his waist, and prepared to go out.

Since his stance training had already reached perfection, he could no longer put off looking for work.

His Third Senior Brother, Liu Yunfei, worked at the docks and had once said that he was familiar with all walks of life in the city, from the three religions to the nine schools.

It was just the right time to ask whether he had any connections at the slaughterhouse and could help him find work as a butcher.

When he passed by the outer courtyard's Martial Arts Arena, a voice called out to stop him.

"Little Junior Brother, do you have a moment?"

Chen Jing looked toward the voice.

Zhang Chengji was standing at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena, waving at him.

Today, Eldest Senior Brother wore a gray short jacket, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing two thick, sturdy forearms. Clearly, he had just finished leading the disciples through a round of practice. Now the outer courtyard apprentices were each training their strength and tempering their qi and blood in front of stone locks and wooden racks.

Chen Jing walked closer and cupped his fists.

"Eldest Senior Brother, I was just about to go to the docks to find Third Senior Brother and Sixth Senior Brother, to see if there's any work that can make money."

Zhang Chengji scratched his head. A somewhat embarrassed look soon appeared on his face, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"Little Junior Brother, you know how it is..."

"Right now, I'm teaching martial arts lessons to the outer sect disciples on Master's behalf, but I have something urgent to take care of and need to go out for a bit, about half an hour."

"Can you cover for your senior brother for a while?"

"What matter is so urgent, Senior Brother?" Chen Jing asked curiously.

Zhang Chengji coughed, swept his gaze left and right, and only after making sure no one around was paying attention did he lower his voice.

"My wife wants to eat pastries from Xu Shop."

"Do you know Xu Shop? The one in the south of the city. It only opens every afternoon, and the line can squeeze all the way to the opposite side of the street."

"If I wait until the martial arts school lets out, they'll have sold out long ago. I want to go a bit earlier today and buy her a fresh box."

Chen Jing froze for a moment, then could not help the corners of his mouth from curving up.

Only then did he remember hearing Mei Qinghe mention that Zhang Chengji was married, and that he and his wife treated each other with mutual respect, lifting the tray to eyebrow height, and were deeply in love.

This Eldest Senior Brother usually kept a stern face and did everything by the book. When he scolded disciples, he was even harsher than Cheng Lianshan. Who would have thought he would also have moments of sneaking off to buy pastries?

"Your junior brother is naturally willing."

"It is only that when it comes to teaching and passing on martial arts, I have no experience. I'm afraid I may not be equal to the task."

"No matter." Zhang Chengji waved a hand. "Today, I've already taught the stance method and fist technique lessons. Now they're each tempering themselves. Junior Brother only needs to watch over the martial field."

"If anyone slacks off, just scold them a couple of times. If anyone asks for guidance, just give them a few pointers. I'll be back in less than half an hour."

Chen Jing nodded in understanding.

"Eldest Senior Brother, don't worry. Leave this place to me."

Zhang Chengji lowered his voice and added, "Don't worry, I won't make you work for nothing. I'll pay you one tael of silver."

As he spoke, he fished a small piece of broken silver from his waist and stuffed it into Chen Jing's hand without allowing any argument.

Chen Jing was stunned.

One tael of silver for half an hour. Eldest Senior Brother was truly generous.

Before he had time to refuse, Zhang Chengji had already turned and strode to the center of the Martial Arts Arena. He clapped his hands twice, pap, pap, summoning the twenty or so disciples on the field over.

"I have something to do and need to go out for a bit. This afternoon, Junior Brother Chen will be holding the martial field. His words are my words. Whoever dares not listen, I'll deal with him personally when I return."

After Zhang Chengji said this in a clear voice, he encouraged everyone with a few more words, then hurried toward the martial arts school's main gate.

His steps were fast and urgent; where was even half a trace of his usual steadiness?

The disciples in the Martial Arts Arena looked at one another, then all turned their heads in unison to look at Chen Jing, who stood in the middle of the field.

This youth in a black martial uniform looked no more than eighteen or nineteen, younger than many of those present.

Moreover, although Chen Jing did not know these outer courtyard disciples, they knew him as Cheng Lianshan's newly accepted inner courtyard disciple.

His name in the outer courtyard was like thunder piercing the ears.

A low burst of whispering rose in the crowd. Someone quietly said, "Isn't that the one who got in through the back door?"

Someone muttered, "What right does he have to guide us?"

There were also people who nudged the person beside them with an elbow and jerked their chin toward Zhou Fan in the corner.

Most people grumbled a few words, then dispersed on their own, returning to their positions to continue practicing.

After all, no matter how young Chen Jing was, he was still an inner courtyard disciple.

His status and theirs in the outer courtyard were as far apart as heaven and earth. They could not afford to offend him.

But there would always be someone young and hot-blooded, feeling things were unfair, unable to swallow this breath. Before long, someone came looking for trouble.

First, two disciples practicing standing-post stance ran over and said their frames were incorrect.

They wanted Chen Jing to give them some pointers.

Chen Jing told them to stand properly.

Then he tapped one man's knee with his foot.

With a release of force, he said, "Your knee is too stiff."

After that, he flipped his hand back and patted the other man's chest, saying lightly, "Your breathing is too rushed. Sink it down."

Their bodies staggered from Chen Jing's taps, but in the very next second, they felt their stances grow stable and their force flow smoothly.

The two exchanged a glance. They had originally wanted to watch Chen Jing make a fool of himself.

Now they discovered that the other party really did have something to him.

They could only say awkwardly, "Many thanks, Senior Brother," then retreated to the side in thought.

Afterward, several more disciples practicing boxing said their routines did not flow smoothly.

Chen Jing had them perform once, then reached out and gave each of them pointers at the places where their force failed to connect—waists, hips, elbows, and the like.

"Your exertion is disconnected. You need to circulate the force into place."

Those disciples looked at one another, then tried it out. Chen Jing's guidance truly produced results as fast as setting up a pole and seeing its shadow.

Chen Jing walked away with his hands clasped behind his back. He understood these people's thoughts clearly. They were not sincerely seeking instruction; they wanted to test whether he had real ability.

If he could not answer, these people could turn around and spread talk of "inner-court disciples being famous in name only" throughout the entire martial hall.

Chen Jing did not expose them either.

With his current level, giving pointers to this crowd of outer-court apprentices was nothing more than a small dish of vegetables, not worth getting angry over.

However, this calmness of his fell into certain people's eyes.

And it became even more glaring.

Zhou Fan stood in a corner of the Martial Arts Arena, clenching his fists, his nails nearly digging into his palms.

Just a few days ago, his standing-post skill had already reached major accomplishment.

In terms of foundation, he was steadier than any outer-court disciple present. Once, everyone up and down the outer court had said that the next person to enter the inner court had to be him, and even he himself had thought so.

But precisely when he was closest to that threshold, a Chen Jing suddenly appeared.

A connected household who had sprung out from who knew where, who had not even entered the outer court and had been directly accepted by Master Cheng as a personal disciple.

That position should have been his!

Someone leaned over beside him and sighed with a shake of his head:

"Zhou Fan, your standing-post skill reached major accomplishment a few days ago, didn't it?"

"What a pity. Even if you're a talent sent down by heaven, you still can't beat what's destined by fate."

Zhou Fan gritted his teeth hard.

"I don't accept it,"

he said in a low voice, his tone carrying resentment he could not suppress.

"That position should have been mine."

A thought took root in his heart, sprouted, and grew wildly. If he could prove that he was stronger than Chen Jing...

Would Master Cheng look at him with higher regard and take him into the sect as well?

Even if he could not, at least he could let everyone know that this Chen Jing was nothing more than a connected household with an empty name.

And he, Zhou Fan, was the one truly worthy of the inner court.

He drew in a deep breath, strode out from the crowd, and cupped his fist properly toward Chen Jing.

"Senior Brother Chen! In recent days, my standing-post method has stepped into major accomplishment. I would like to spar with you in boxing, so we may verify each other's skills."