Eyes Opened

A month later.

Zhou Ming led his horse into Hua'an County.

He did not know whether he had left Jinzhou.

On that snowy night, after leaving the city gates, he had kept walking in a straight line, crossing mountains when he encountered them and fording rivers when he came to them.

As for places the horse could not cross, they were nothing more than minor hardships to someone with the strength of a thousand jin.

This was the first time in the past month that he had returned to the proper road.

He entered Hua'an County and stood in the middle of the street.

Only when Zhou Ming saw the new Spring Festival couplets pasted along the street did he realize that the New Year had already passed.

Sigh!

He had wanted to stay up through New Year's Eve with Ruoxi.

What a pity.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

"Beggar, get lost. Don't block the road."

Zhou Ming raised his eyes slightly. Several people were galloping toward him on horseback from not far away.

He hurriedly led his horse aside.

Watching the riders disappear into the distance, Zhou Ming felt puzzled.

County Guards generally would not leave the city without reason. Could this be another scheme?

Before he could think further, a voice rang out.

"Um, young man, could you move aside? This old man still needs to do business."

Zhou Ming turned around. An old man pinching his nose cupped his hands toward him.

Zhou Ming smiled, led his horse away at a brisk pace.

Seeing that everyone he passed pinched their noses,

he tilted his head slightly and took a sniff.

He patted the horse that had crossed mountains and valleys with him all the way. "Little Yellow, do you think I stink?"

Little Yellow neighed twice.

"Though I can't smell it, I'm filthy and ragged. I probably do smell a little."

As he spoke, Zhou Ming arrived at the entrance of an inn.

Joyful Arrival Inn.

Seeing the name, Zhou Ming grinned.

Heh, incredible.

Joyful Arrival Inn had even opened a branch here.

Seeing Zhou Ming leading a horse while dressed in rags, the waiter stepped forward. "Honored guest, would you like a room?"

Zhou Ming stared at him, amusement on his face, and began counting.

"1, 2, 3... 4... 31... 42... 55."

Just as the waiter's face turned red and his cheeks puffed out,

Zhou Ming pulled a whole gold ingot from his robes and tossed it over. "One superior room, two buckets of hot water. Take my old clothes and make two clean sets in my size. Feed my horse well too. Keep the rest as your tip."

The waiter caught the gold ingot, grabbed the horse, and hurried five paces away before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Distinguished guest! One superior room, two buckets of hot water!"

Half an hour later.

Zhou Ming had changed into clean clothes and was sitting in the inn's main hall.

"Recently, many gifted talents have emerged across the various prefectures. Does anyone know what's going on?"

"Not just in our Yan Kingdom. The same is happening in the prefectures of Zhao Kingdom. Martial Artists are gathering in the major prefectural cities."

"I returned from Chu Kingdom last month. The Martial Artists over there are causing an even bigger commotion, fighting each other like dogs."

"Mm, I heard that too. Things have gotten fierce. They say even a prince died."

"What else could it be because of? First, the Martial Academies in every prefecture are recruiting. Then there's the Martial Examination held once every ten years."

Zhou Ming was listening intently when three dishes and a jug of wine were gently placed on his table.

"Honored guest, your food and wine."

Zhou Ming looked at the person and smiled. "Waiter, I don't have any money left."

Upon hearing this, the waiter hastily said, "Honored guest, you must be joking. You already paid. I wouldn't dare charge you again. My name is Er Zhuang. If you need anything, just call out. I'll be at the entrance."

Watching Er Zhuang leave,

With those skinny arms and legs, why was he called Er Zhuang?

The name didn't suit him at all. Da Niu was still a better name—just like the man himself.

Zhou Ming poured himself a cup of wine and asked, "Everyone, what are the requirements for entering a Martial Academy? And what exactly is the Martial Examination?"

As soon as he spoke, everyone looked at him.

Not out of curiosity, but surprise.

Seeing that he was so young yet radiated such a deep, solid aura, most of them immediately withdrew their gazes.

Only a few continued to scrutinize him.

An elderly man with waning vitality slowly said, "Young brother, I see that your vitality is restrained and your aura is deep. Have you reached Eighth Rank?"

Zhou Ming considered it.

Since the man could ask that, he presumably had his own means of discernment. There was nothing worth hiding.

He immediately nodded, admitting that he had reached Eighth Rank.

The old man asked again, "Are you over twenty-five?"

"Not yet."

The old man nodded and said, "Mm, a good prospect. You can enter a Martial Academy."

Damn!

These Martial Academies really did not have much prestige.

Even a twenty-five-year-old so-called genius could join.

At once, Zhou Ming lost interest in the Martial Examination as well and lowered his head to eat.

The old man looked at Zhou Ming's expression, somewhat at a loss.

Still, he continued, "As for the Martial Examinations of the various kingdoms, they are divided into two brackets: one for those under twenty-five, and one for those under thirty."

"In our Yan Kingdom, there are thirty-six prefectures. After fighting within each prefecture, the top ten are selected, along with the top ten from the Martial Ranking. They then compete among six prefectures, where another top ten is chosen. Those ten proceed to the imperial capital, where the top ten of the generation are determined."

Zhou Ming took a sip of wine and said calmly, "Among those under twenty-five, are there any at Fifth Grade?"

The old man shook his head and said gravely, "On Qing Prefecture's Martial Ranking, no gifted talent under twenty-five has yet stepped into Fifth Grade. This old man does not know about the other prefectures."

A man in blue robes laughed loudly. "Your Qing Prefecture may not have a gifted talent who has reached Fifth Grade, but my Hailin Prefecture has one. His name is Lu Yunqian. Twenty-four years old, newly entered Fifth Grade."

In an instant, the only sound left in the entire tavern was Zhou Ming pouring wine.

Zhou Ming raised his cup and asked curiously, "Did he advance from Sixth Grade with a Perfect Foundation?"

The blue-robed man froze, then said, "No. His acupoints had not reached completion."

Oh.

So he was trash.

Of course, Zhou Ming did not dare say that aloud in public.

"Heh. At twenty-four, he failed to temper his foundation and ruined his path in martial arts just for a Martial Examination ranking. Does he deserve to be called a gifted talent?"

A crisp voice rang out.

Damn.

A mouthpiece had arrived.

Zhou Ming looked toward the voice. A woman with a light veil covering her face sat alone in a corner of the hall.

On her table sat a jug of clear wine and a sheathed sword.

No one in the hall refuted the woman.

On the path of martial arts, advancing without a Perfect Foundation meant that two grades higher would be a dead end.

But everyone had their own pursuits. Not everyone yearned for that Supreme Realm path that had been cut off for five hundred years.

No one spoke because it was not a matter concerning their own prefecture.

But as someone from Hailin Prefecture, how could the blue-robed man fail to defend his prefecture's honor?

He immediately slammed the table and rose, pointing at the veiled woman in the corner. "Where did this little bitch come from, spouting such nonsense?"

Clang~

A cold flash streaked past.

The blue-robed man clutched his throat, his eyes wide.

"Urgh... urgh..."

Blood spilled from his mouth along with the sounds. His body tilted, knocking over the table.

Food and wine mixed with blood, scattering across the floor.

Everyone in the inn continued chatting. Even the three people at the same table as the man merely glanced at the corpse.

The innkeeper gave the corpse an expressionless look and called out, "Er Zhuang, clean this up."

Er Zhuang, who had been standing at the entrance, walked into the hall and laboriously dragged the blue-robed man's corpse toward the inn's rear courtyard.

A trail of blood stretched across the entire inn.

Watching this scene, Zhou Ming's pupils contracted as a chill spread through his body.

A verbal dispute, and someone was killed outright.

The people around him were unmoved.

The innkeeper and Er Zhuang, neither of whom were Martial Artists, handled the corpse with practiced ease.

At that moment, Wang Quan's words exploded in his mind.

"Kid Zhou, if one day someone kills you casually, your unwillingness and resentment will be useless. You chose to walk the path of martial arts, so you must accept the rule that big fish eat little fish. Do you understand?"

Zhou Ming slowly turned the wine cup in his hand and murmured, "So this was what it meant for big fish to eat little fish? My eyes have been opened."