Eating

Chen Feiyi returned from the latrine, his expression already restored to its usual unruffled calm.

"Come, take the stance again.

While you do, I'll help correct the mistakes in your movements," he said earnestly.

"Yes, Master Chen!"

Without another word, Cheng Yang settled into the stance. After completing it once just now, insights from practicing the stance dozens of times in succession had already surged into his mind, and those experiences were now flowing endlessly into his limbs and bones.

[Rock-Still Stance Beginner (2/100)]

[Rock-Still Stance Beginner (6/100)]

Cheng Yang sank his waist, drew up his breath, and assumed the Rock-Still Stance once more.

His movements during the second attempt were far smoother than the first. Those stiff, sluggish parts from before seemed to have been smoothed away by an invisible hand. His entire stance became seamlessly unified, and his blood and vitality circulated as smoothly as if he had practiced for several days.

Chen Feiyi stood beside him with his mouth slightly open. He wanted to point out a few flaws, yet after watching for a long while, he could not utter a single word.

He repeatedly scrutinized Cheng Yang's movements, trying to find even the slightest deviation. In the end, he discovered that Cheng Yang had not only corrected every mistake from his first attempt himself, but that the integrity and fluidity of his stance were even better than Chen Feiyi had anticipated.

This was simply inconceivable.

If that was the case, what did he need a master for?

"Master, were there any problems with my stance this time?" Cheng Yang asked as he withdrew his posture.

Chen Feiyi cleared his throat, striving to maintain the bearing of an old hand. "Not bad. No major problems."

He coughed, then took the opportunity to offer a string of advice. "Your talent is decent, but you must never grow arrogant or complacent. Know that talented people under heaven are as numerous as crucian carp crossing a river; beyond every person is another person, and beyond every heaven is another heaven. But you needn't belittle yourself either, thinking about all sorts of nonsense. Diligently practicing martial arts is the proper path."

"I understand, Master," Cheng Yang replied with a nod.

"In seven days, I'll inspect your progress in the Rock-Still Stance. Don't disappoint me." Chen Feiyi patted him on the shoulder, his tone carrying undisguised expectations.

Seven days counted as his observation period for this disciple.

If Cheng Yang wasted his days and neglected his proper duties during those seven days, then no matter how talented he was, there would be a serious problem with his character.

He would also... no...

Of course he would still take him on as a personal disciple. He would simply personally step in then and give him a proper polishing, forging this iron blank into steel.

What a joke. How could he possibly leave such a precious treasure unattended?

He would rather suffer a little himself than let someone else pick up such a bargain for nothing.

Cheng Yang glanced at the panel.

[Rock-Still Stance Beginner (11/100)]

To others, it was seven days. To him, it was seven years.

With seven years, he could push the Rock-Still Stance into the next realm with his eyes closed. By then, becoming a Flesh-Tempering Martial Master would be no difficult matter.

As he was thinking, his stomach suddenly rumbled.

After taking the stance twice, his consumption had been astonishing. Peerless Bearing gave him an extremely fast cultivation speed, but the energy it consumed was also several times that of an ordinary person.

Cheng Yang hurriedly pulled out the jerky he carried with him and stuffed several pieces into his mouth. Only then did the surging hunger ease somewhat.

"Hungry?" Chen Feiyi noticed.

Cheng Yang nodded.

"Yan Shuai, take Junior Brother Cheng to collect a set of training clothes and an identity tag first. While you're at it, show him around the entire martial hall. When you're done, wait for me in the kitchen. We'll eat together," Chen Feiyi swiftly instructed.

"Yes, Master!"

Yan Shuai responded and led Cheng Yang to the servants' quarters first.

After collecting his identity tag and training clothes, Cheng Yang changed into them on the spot. Wearing the training uniform embroidered with the character "Chen," he seemed much more spirited.

Next came the tour of the martial hall.

The Chen Clan Martial Hall was divided into front, middle, and rear courtyards. The front courtyard housed disciples who had not yet entered Skin Tempering, the middle courtyard was for Skin Tempering disciples, and the rear courtyard was for core students above Skin Tempering.

The martial hall's facilities were quite complete, with bathhouses, dormitory buildings, kitchens, and everything else one could need.

After making the rounds, Cheng Yang thanked Yan Shuai for guiding him, and the two returned to Master Chen.

The food had long been prepared in the kitchen: three dishes and one soup, two meat dishes and one vegetable dish.

The soup was Small Origin Soup, which could help martial artists refine their blood and vitality. Disciples like him, who had paid for board and lodging, were limited to one bowl per day.

Yet when Cheng Yang lifted his bowl, he swept it clean like a whirlwind clearing fallen leaves, as though he had not eaten for ten days or half a month. After finishing one bowl, he still wanted more and gazed eagerly at the pot.

"Still not full?" Chen Feiyi's voice drifted over from beside him. "It's fine. You can have as much lunch as you want, and drink as much Small Origin Soup as you want too, until you're full."

Yan Shuai, who was eating rice nearby, was so jealous that he nearly bit his chopsticks in two.

He wanted Master to value him like that too!

Since the hall master had spoken, Cheng Yang naturally did not stand on ceremony. He let himself go, bowl after bowl.

Sitting opposite him, Chen Feiyi leisurely picked at his food while discreetly counting the bowls of Small Origin Soup Cheng Yang had drunk. Stroking his chin, he secretly wondered what the boy's stomach was made of. How could it hold so much?

Still, he could understand.

After all, he was a genius with superior bones.

It was perfectly normal for his appetite to be far greater than others'.

"Damn, look! Who's that new face sitting beside Master Chen? He's already had five bowls of Small Origin Soup in a row! And Master Chen is spoiling him like this!"

"Five bowls? Fuck! I've been at the martial hall for so long, and I've never even had two bowls at once..."

Several disciples glanced over furtively, whispering among themselves.

"Brother Wen, where did this brat come from? How did he receive such generous treatment from Master the moment he walked in?" Qian Biao, a pockmarked man, leaned close to Cai Qingwen's ear and asked in a low voice.

Cai Qingwen did not answer. His gaze darkened, and the hostility in his heart quietly crept upward like vines.

"This roadblock that suddenly appeared..." Qian Biao lowered his voice. "I'm afraid that position as the seventh personal disciple..."

Everyone knew that Chen Feiyi had recently planned to take in a seventh personal disciple, and that it would also be his last.

He had publicly declared that he would only accept seven personal disciples in his life. Seven was his lucky number and had profoundly influenced his life.

Cai Qingwen was one of the most promising candidates for that spot.

He had put in a great deal of effort for it.

He absolutely could not let someone who appeared out of nowhere cut him off at the pass.

A trace of sinister gloom flashed through Cai Qingwen's eyes, and the hand holding his bowl quietly tightened.

"Burp!"

Cheng Yang had finally eaten until he was seventy percent full and barely set down his chopsticks.

Yan Shuai stared in utter disbelief, his mouth nearly hanging open. "Good heavens, Junior Brother Cheng, that appetite of yours... it's more than twice mine..."

"Not bad, not bad." Chen Feiyi nodded in satisfaction. "Full?"

"Thank you, Master, for letting your disciple eat to his heart's content."

Cheng Yang put down his bowl in complete satisfaction.

Honestly, people with big appetites were truly fortunate. They could eat however they wanted.

After lunch, he bade his master farewell and prepared to return home to tell his mother the good news of joining the Chen Clan Martial Hall.

He also bought some food along the way. He had eaten his fill, but his mother was still going hungry at home.

On Old Kui Street, Cheng Yang strode forward with his head held high. The training uniform embroidered with a conspicuous "Chen" on his body was especially eye-catching under the afternoon sun.

Before long, some neighbors recognized him.

"Isn't that boy from the Cheng family? Didn't I hear a few days ago that he failed to break through in martial arts? How did he put on the Chen Clan Martial Hall's training uniform in the blink of an eye?"

"My heavens, the Chen Clan Martial Hall! That's one of the best martial halls in Qinglin County. I heard the apprenticeship fee alone is twenty taels of silver! Where did Lin Xia and her son get that much money?"

The discussions spread through the streets and alleys like ripples across water. Cheng Yang ignored them and walked toward his family courtyard at an unhurried pace.

However, just as he reached the courtyard gate, several rough-faced, broad-bodied men from the Golden Tiger Gang were going door to door from the end of the alley, questioning people. They happened to arrive at Cheng Yang's doorstep as well.

The two sides ran straight into each other.

Cheng Yang narrowed his eyes slightly.