The Martial Path Came to a Halt

Peaceful Inn, inside a guest room.

Zhou Ming looked at the pale, unconscious Wang Quan and asked anxiously, "Yang Escort Leader, how is Uncle Wang?"

Yang Escort Leader glanced back at him and said flatly, "He won't die, but his foundation has been damaged."

"What will happen?"

"He'll stop at Eighth Rank!"

Zhou Ming asked in disbelief, "How could he stop at Eighth Rank? With a Perfect Foundation, he should at least become a Seventh-Rank Martial Artist."

Yang Escort Leader looked at the unconscious Wang Quan and shook his head. "Old Wang has run out of time. By the time his body recovers, he'll have already missed the golden age for martial cultivation. His blood qi has begun to decline. He'll be stuck at Eighth Rank for the rest of his life."

Zhou Ming drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. After calming the turmoil in his heart, he asked, "Who did this?"

Yang Escort Leader rose and slowly walked over to sit beside the tea table. "The County Guard."

The guest room fell silent.

After a moment, Zhou Ming asked, "Why?"

Yang Escort Leader took out his pipe tobacco, tapped it against the tea table, then lit it with the candle flame. He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

The smoke shrouded his face, making his expression impossible to see clearly.

"Isn't the answer already in your heart?"

Zhou Ming sneered. "Heh. Officials and bandits alike—what are they after?"

Yang Escort Leader let out a deep sigh and said, "Your talent is unmatched, the greatest I have seen in my life. I have traveled through half of Yan Kingdom's Thirty-Six Provinces. I have seen the Martial Academies in every province and read a hundred years' worth of Martial Ranking records. Not one person could stand shoulder to shoulder with you."

"What does that have to do with my talent?"

Yang Escort Leader scoffed. "Where did the Blood-Qi Pills on you come from? Where did the escort agency's unlimited supply of beef and marrow soup for you come from?"

"Would an ordinary person receive such treatment? The martial path must be fought for. What are people fighting for? Do I need to spell it out any clearer?"

Zhou Ming's expression dimmed.

After a while, Zhou Ming stood and pushed open the door.

"I advise you not to go throw your life away. That spear of yours can kill an Eighth-Rank Martial Artist, but against even the most ordinary Seventh-Rank Martial Artist, you won't even be able to break their defense. Not to mention that there are Sixth-Rank Martial Artists within the County Guard."

Zhou Ming paused, then turned around and shut the door.

Yang Escort Leader smoked his pipe and looked at Wang Quan lying on the bed. "Heh heh, Old Wang, this is just perfect. Us two brothers are both trapped at Eighth Rank now."

The veins on Yang Escort Leader's hand, which gripped the pipe stem, bulged fiercely. His voice was low and hoarse. "Wang Quan! Was it worth it? Even if his talent is outstanding, he isn't your son, much less your disciple. Put your hand over your heart and ask yourself—was it really worth it?"

Wang Quan, lying on the bed, opened his eyes. He slightly turned his head toward the tea table and said softly, "Old Yang, it was worth it."

After saying that, he lost consciousness once more.

Yang Escort Leader looked at Wang Quan, who had fainted again, somewhat helplessly. "Still the same as when he was a child—a stubborn mule through and through. Fine. If you think it was worth it, then it was worth it. Your Second Brother already made the wrong choice once. I only hope you, Third Brother, won't regret it."

Zhou Ming left the inn and found an open stretch of ground near the river.

In his hand was the standard long saber issued by the escort agency. It was not the kind of mountain-cleaving chopping saber, but resembled the hengdao of Tang sabers.

The saber was two chi and six cun long.

As Zhou Ming practiced the Eight Saber-Cutting Forms, the proficiency on the panel rose rapidly.

[Eight Saber-Cutting Forms—Beginner (49/100)]

[Eight Saber-Cutting Forms—Minor Mastery (1/100)]

[Eight Saber-Cutting Forms—Minor Mastery (2/100)]

A thread of morning light appeared at the end of the eastern horizon. In an instant, it crossed the entire Yan Kingdom and fell upon Zhou Ming.

Zhou Ming held his saber and bathed in the dawn.

[Eight Saber-Cutting Forms—Masterful (1/100)]

Looking at his gains from the night on the panel, he dragged his exhausted body back toward the inn.

Martial techniques were divided into four realms: first glimpse of the path, minor mastery, masterful proficiency, and reaching the summit.

Over the past few days, he had also figured out the matter of cultivation efficiency. It was simply the conversion of blood qi.

Developing one's body required blood qi. Practicing martial techniques also required blood qi.

As long as he could rapidly convert blood qi, there would be no bottlenecks for him, whether in cultivation methods or martial techniques.

Zhou Ming understood that the efficiency of converting blood qi was one's innate talent.

More importantly, he still had Destiny!

[Destiny: Double Results with Half the Effort]

[Description: Do half the work, reap enormous rewards!]

This was his true foundation!

After returning to Peaceful Inn, Zhou Ming first instructed the waiter to simmer an old ginseng soup and prepare some breakfast. After taking out a silver ingot from his clothes, Zhou Ming went to the rear courtyard to wash up.

Half an hour later, after Zhou Ming had finished breakfast, he carried the ginseng soup to Wang Quan's room.

He carefully pushed open the door.

To his surprise, Wang Quan and Yang Escort Leader were already seated by the tea table, drinking tea.

Zhou Ming placed the tray on the tea table. Looking at Wang Quan's deathly pale face and insufficient blood qi, his vision gradually blurred.

He had known Wang Quan for ten years.

He clearly remembered that year when he had been surrounded in a street corner by a group of children and beaten until he could barely breathe. Wang Quan, not yet thirty at the time, had worn a roguish grin as he slapped aside the children ganging up on him, one with each hand.

Then, with one hand, he picked Zhou Ming up and tossed him into the medical hall within the Dragon Soaring Escort Agency.

The physician happened to be absent at the time, so Wang Quan treated him personally. He applied some medicine, then simmered a bowl of unbearably bitter medicine and forcibly poured it down his throat.

From that day onward, Zhou Ming, ten years old and malnourished, would work odd jobs every few days at the place behind the Dragon Soaring Escort Agency where deliveries were received, chopping firewood and the like.

He knew that Wang Quan had ordered the servants to arrange all those jobs.

This was the first kindness he had received in this world, aside from that of his family.

"Old Yang, look at this kid crying. Doesn't he look exactly like he did when he was little?"

Yang Escort Leader examined Zhou Ming closely and said in surprise, "He's that little fellow whose bugs you flicked away? Now that you mention it, he does look exactly the same. Back then, too, his face was expressionless, but tears were streaming down his cheeks."

Zhou Ming raised a hand and rubbed his eyes, saying angrily, "Those were tears of humiliation. What the hell do you two know? Try it now—if you raise a hand, I'll give you a spear right away."

Wang Quan looked at Zhou Ming, whose eyes still held self-reproach.

He waved a hand and said calmly, "There's no need to blame yourself. I had reached that age anyway. Breaking through to Seventh Rank would only have been so-so. Five more years or five fewer years, there's no difference. I can't go any farther."

Zhou Ming pressed his lips together and remained silent.

It was completely different. Leaving aside the gap between Seventh Rank and Eighth Rank, a Martial Artist could live to a hundred.

For the lower three ranks, every breakthrough of one rank added ten years to one's lifespan.

Yang Escort Leader looked at him and seemed to understand what he was thinking. He said, "Longevity is not necessarily a good thing, especially for Martial Artists like us who have no hope left on the martial path."

Then Wang Quan pulled a stern face and asked sharply, "Kid Zhou, do you remember the second lesson I taught you?"

"Fight!" Zhou Ming blurted out.

"That's right—fight. But once a Martial Artist can no longer even fight for what he wants, the length of his lifespan truly means nothing to people like us."

Zhou Ming muttered, "Who wouldn't want to live longer?"

"You're still young and have only just stepped onto the martial path. You haven't experienced enough, so it's only natural for you to think that way. As you grow older, you'll understand." Wang Quan picked up the ginseng soup with a look of relief.