Li Dashan had climbed up from the bottom himself, step by step. He knew exactly how hard it was for a disciple with neither family wealth nor connections to reach the Skin Tempering Third Layer.
Li Dashan nodded slowly. "No small feat. Heaven helps those who help themselves. Well done."
Zhang Yan was taken aback.
In truth, he did not know Deng Qing very well.
At first, Fan Sheng had often mentioned this junior disciple to him. Later, Deng Qing had handled several matters reliably and shown that he knew the proper courtesies. Only then had Zhang Yan's impression of him gradually improved.
He had put Deng Qing on the list of attendants this time for Fan Sheng's sake.
Only now, after hearing how Deng Qing had gone from a poor boy so hungry he had rammed his head into a pillar to reaching the Skin Tempering Third Layer, did Zhang Yan feel he truly knew him.
Just then, the sounds of fighting ahead died away.
Ding Yuan and the others returned. Many hurried to change out of their bloodstained clothes, talking excitedly among themselves.
Ding Yuan in particular wore triumph all over his face.
He approached Li Dashan, cupped his hands, and said, "Master, the bandits have all been scattered. I killed six."
Several other disciples crowded forward to report how many they had killed and wounded, afraid that if they said nothing, Li Dashan would forget them.
Li Dashan nodded slightly. "Well done. They may have been driven to become outlaws, and that is pitiable, but once they take up weapons to rob travelers, they are bandits. Since they've scattered, though, there's no need to hunt down every last one. Let's continue on our way."
Ding Yuan nodded with a smile. His gaze flicked toward Deng Qing, and he gave a soft snort, as if to say, So there are times when I outdo you.
Shortly after noon, Li Dashan and his party finally reached Dongting County.
The County Yamen had sent a clerk and several Runners to wait outside the city gate.
Li Dashan now held the post of Ninth-Rank Commandant and was one of the local martial men awarded a title for the Battle of Liangshan. Dongting County received him with considerable courtesy.
After the two sides exchanged greetings, the men from the County Yamen led the party into the city.
As soon as Deng Qing entered Dongting County, he hardly knew where to look.
Most of the grain shops, cloth stores, and restaurants along the streets were open. Pedestrians came and went without pause, and he even spotted quite a few merchants speaking with accents from elsewhere.
Clearly, the turmoil had struck this place less severely.
Once they reached the posthouse, Li Dashan told the disciples to make their own plans, so long as they returned before late afternoon.
Fan Sheng rarely had a chance to visit Dongting County and had no wish to stay cooped up in the posthouse. He promptly dragged Deng Qing out with him.
The two wandered the streets. Passing a stall selling fried pastries, Fan Sheng bought two large bags, and they ate as they walked.
Deng Qing's appetite was astonishing now. He soon polished off his whole bag, leaving Fan Sheng shaking his head.
Outside a cosmetics shop, Fan Sheng stopped to choose two boxes of rouge, then bought a few children's toys from the general-goods stall beside it.
Deng Qing had little interest in rouge or powder. Then he noticed several butcher shops across the street.
He told Fan Sheng where he was going, walked over, and casually asked about the price and supply of offal.
The stallholder gave him a strange look but quoted an approximate figure.
After hearing it, Deng Qing asked at two neighboring shops. Their answers were much the same.
Fan Sheng came over and teased him. "You brat, you've reached the Skin Tempering Third Layer, and you're still fixated on offal?
"What, are you really planning to make the name 'Offal Martial Saint' stick?"
Deng Qing smiled without trying to explain.
In fact, he had long since stopped expecting offal to replenish his Qi-Blood on a large scale.
It was not that offal had become useless. Quite the opposite: for him, it was still an excellent bargain.
For the same amount of silver, offal gave him nearly seven or eight times the benefit he would get from buying quality meat.
The real problem now was not the price but the supply.
When he had first started eating offal, it had been deep winter. It did not spoil easily, and the butcher shops had unsold stock piled up. He could buy a great deal at once and eat it over time.
Now the weather was warming, and offal would not keep for more than a few days.
A butcher shop could only supply as much as its daily slaughter of pigs and sheep produced.
Deng Qing now ate seven meals a day, each a large one. Even if he bought every scrap of offal from one or two butcher shops, it would come nowhere near enough.
So he had asked just now on the faint chance that the supply here might be better.
After checking several shops, he knew that avenue was closed.
Deng Qing accompanied Fan Sheng around for a while longer, buying plenty of food along the way until he was more or less full.
An hour later, the two returned to the posthouse.
Fan Sheng went to his room to rest, but Deng Qing wasted no time. He sat cross-legged in his room and began circulating the Violet Palace Method.
Late that afternoon, people from the County Yamen came to the posthouse again to invite Li Dashan and his party to a banquet.
Everyone straightened their robes and followed Li Dashan out of the posthouse toward the Martial Arts Ground in the eastern part of the city.
When they arrived, numerous carriages were already parked outside the Martial Arts Ground. Runners guided guests back and forth at the entrance, and people streamed in without end.
The Martial Arts Ground had been carefully prepared as the venue for that evening.
Inside, voices filled the air. Dozens of banquet tables had been arranged around the grounds.
The guests came from all manner of backgrounds.
There were officials from both counties, martial school masters, prominent local families, leading figures from the merchant guilds, and Martial Artists who had distinguished themselves in the fighting.
Robes of every kind filled the grounds, with swords and sabers everywhere.
Some exchanged pleasantries, some seized the chance to make connections, while others eyed old rivals coldly from across the tables.
Li Dashan had recently gained the post of Ninth-Rank Commandant and earned merit in the Battle of Liangshan. He was seated near the front, close to the main table.
Zhang Yan and Fan Sheng shared a table behind Li Dashan's.
Deng Qing, Ding Yuan, and the others had not even secured seats. They could only stand.
Deng Qing was looking around aimlessly when he spotted Li Cheng in the crowd. Li Cheng was looking at him too and gave him a nod.
Deng Qing nodded back. Only then did he notice the group of striking young men around Li Cheng. They had to be Martial Exam Students taking part in the Martial Dao Trial.
Next, Deng Qing saw Song Que. Song Que was staring at him.
Song Que's entire bearing had changed. He was like a sharp sword hidden deep in its sheath.
His gaze swept over Deng Qing's waist, his eyes gleaming.
Deng Qing met his eyes briefly, then looked away and noticed the middle-aged man seated in front of Song Que.
Deng Qing was certain the man was Song Wuliang, master of the Golden Saber Sect.
Song Wuliang looked to be in his forties. Tall and powerfully built, with exceptionally broad shoulders and back, he wore a dark-gold martial outfit, with a thick-backed golden saber at his waist.
Even seated, he gave off a crushing sense of pressure.
Deng Qing was still studying Song Wuliang when the man suddenly picked up his wine cup and walked over.
Stopping before Li Dashan, he laughed. "Senior Brother Li, congratulations. You went away for a while and came back a Ninth-Rank Commandant."
Li Dashan smiled. "Just luck. I hear you've accepted the next round of conscription, Junior Brother Song?"
"Of course."
Song Wuliang grinned. "I can't let you steal all the glory, Senior Brother Li."