Coiling Dragon, Clawing Strike, and Ten Thousand Miles Traveled

"Understood."

Without another word, Qin Geng held his stance in the steam rising from the medicine pot for half an hour. Once the brew was ready and had cooled, he tipped back his head and drank it all.

A surge of heat exploded in his belly and coursed through his limbs and bones.

[Profession: Martial Artist (Level 8)]

[Experience +4]

[Current experience: 84/80]

[Level up: Martial Artist (Level 9)]

[Experience: 4/90]

The heat inside Qin Geng blazed fiercer. Strength seemed to writhe beneath his skin, more than he could use, demanding an outlet.

"Hah!"

With a low shout, he took his stance again.

This time, he did not deliberately stiffen his back. Instead, he tried to feel the rhythm between the joints of his spine.

Coiling Dragon!

He turned slightly, his spine shifting like a python lying in wait, its power gathered but unreleased.

Clawing Strike!

Riding the force transmitted through his lower back, he thrust out his arm. The instant his fingers reached their limit, they snapped shut.

Crack!

The sharp sound was cleaner and crisper than before.

"Now that's something. Keep going!"

Zheng Tonghe stood nearby with his hands behind his back, offering pointers now and then. "Sink your waist lower! Relax your shoulders! Don't force it!"

Once, twice, ten times...

Qin Geng repeated the two movements tirelessly.

Bright Force techniques truly demanded immense stamina.

Every Clawing Strike engaged the muscles, tendons, and bones of his entire body, all while he coordinated his breathing. It was more exhausting than pulling a rickshaw all day.

Sweat streamed down Qin Geng's forehead and soaked his jacket, only to dry in the heat rising from his body, leaving a crust of white salt.

His lungs worked like bellows, every breath heavy as an ox's. His arms felt full of lead, and pain drilled through his fingers.

"Ninety-nine..."

"One hundred!"

As the final Clawing Strike shot out, a corner of the brick beneath Qin Geng's foot cracked. He swayed, braced his hands on his knees, and panted hard, sweat pouring off him like rain.

"That's enough."

Seizing the moment, Zheng Tonghe stepped forward and steadied Qin Geng. Rather than let him rest, he hauled him toward the wooden tub nearby.

"Don't stop. You can't let this momentum fade. Your bones and tendons are at their hungriest right now."

The Dragon-Tiger Decoction in the courtyard was no longer boiling, but steam still billowed from it. The liquid was black as ink.

"Get in. Just leave your head above the surface so you can breathe."

Gritting his teeth, Qin Geng forced his aching body to move. He stripped off his soaked clothes in a few quick motions, stepped naked into the tub, and sat down.

Hiss—

Qin Geng sucked in a sharp breath.

It was hot water, yet the instant the medicine touched his skin, it felt as if countless steel needles were stabbing him, or someone had poured chili oil over him.

The sting burrowed through his pores and pierced straight to the marrow.

"Bear it."

Zheng Tonghe's voice came from above. "In the old days, poor folk didn't even dare bathe in winter. Even now, more people catch a chill from bathing and freeze to death than starve. You're fortunate to have a tub of medicinal bathwater to soak in."

Qin Geng said nothing. He merely squeezed his eyes shut.

Of course he knew.

For the poor, winter was the hardest season to endure.

Most poor families huddled together for warmth. No one dared take off their clothes, and the grime on their bodies could be rolled into strips.

Carriage Drivers at the bottom crowded into shacks. Those with nowhere better went to the Chicken Feather Inn, packed body against body amid the stench. Still, no one dared bathe.

If someone gave in to the urge to get clean and took a bath, they often ran a high fever the next day. That meant death.

But now...

November's cold wind blew over his head, while waves of heat rolled through the tub.

As the stinging gradually faded, an indescribable tingling warmth took its place.

Qin Geng clearly felt warm currents filling what his body had lost. His aching muscles regained their spring at an astonishing rate and even grew tougher.

This was the "Wealth" in "Wealth, Companions, Dharma, and Land"!

Without this priceless medicinal brew, a hundred repetitions of the Bright Force techniques would only leave him unable to get out of bed tomorrow, perhaps even crippled.

[Profession: Martial Artist (Level 9)]

[Experience +1]

[Experience +1]

On the translucent panel only he could see, the experience value kept ticking upward.

As time passed, the dark liquid in the tub visibly paled, finally turning a murky brown.

When the water had cooled slightly, Qin Geng's eyes snapped open.

They flashed with light.

[Current experience: 14/90]

That one medicinal bath had raised his experience by ten points!

Of course, the bath did not deserve all the credit.

Damage, recovery, improvement.

The bath had only helped Qin Geng recover faster. The damage had come from his own hard training!

"Whew..."

Qin Geng rose from the tub, water sloshing around him.

His whole body felt clear and refreshed. His earlier exhaustion had vanished, replaced by a fullness he had never known.

Heat radiated from him. It felt as though a fire burned inside his body.

"All right, out you come."

Zheng Tonghe tossed him a dry towel. "That's day one."

Qin Geng dried himself and quickly dressed.

"Four more days to go. Come early, at the same time each day."

Zheng Tonghe spoke as he cleared away the medicinal dregs.

"Thank you for your guidance, Senior!"

Qin Geng straightened his clothes and bowed deeply and respectfully.

The bow thanked him not only for the medicine, but for the skill he had taught.

"Think nothing of it. Our paths were meant to cross."

Zheng Tonghe turned away, his words full of meaning.

Qin Geng did not know what he meant by that connection. He assumed it had something to do with Shopkeeper Lu. After thanking him again, he strode out of Hundred Herb Hall.

The cold wind struck his face outside, but he felt nothing except heat.

The medicine was still working through him. Another ten points by the end of the day should be no problem.

By the time he had used up the medicine that had cost thirty silver dollars, he would be about ready to master Bright Force.

He had not slept a wink last night, spending it tangled up with those monsters and paper figures on Bell Mountain. His nerves had been taut the entire time.

That morning at Hundred Herb Hall, he had downed potent medicine and pushed his body through grueling drills. Now that he had relaxed, weariness seeped out from between his bones.

By the time Qin Geng left Hundred Herb Hall, the sun stood overhead.

"I'd just be lying around in the shack anyway. Might as well take some fares."

Qin Geng rolled his neck, and his spine gave a string of crisp cracks.

For him now, pulling a rickshaw all over town was about as taxing as an ordinary person taking a stroll. It would help work off the lingering heat of the medicine, and he could count it as rest.

He kept pulling until the sun sank behind the western hills.

Rickshaws wove through the streets of South City.

Qin Geng stopped his rickshaw by the roadside, wiped away his sweat, and summoned the panel.

[Profession: Carriage Driver (Level 33)]

"Level thirty-three."

Qin Geng studied the experience bar and frowned slightly.

Ever since his Carriage Driver level had passed thirty, the panel had offered no hint of a new talent.

"Could this be as far as it goes?"

Doubts stirred in Qin Geng's mind.

It was like climbing a mountain only to find the path cut off halfway up, with no signpost to point the way.

"What a shame. If I had a circle like those Martial Artists who opened schools and took disciples, people I could talk shop with, maybe I could learn something. Of everyone I know, not one is a Carriage Driver who's properly reached a higher level."

There had been only five Carriage Drivers in Ping'an County Town publicly known to have reached a higher level, and every last one had been sunk in the river. There was no one left to ask.

"No point dwelling on it. When the cart reaches the mountain, a road will appear."

Qin Geng set the thought aside. "By level forty, the fourth stage, something ought to change."

He considered how his experience had changed over the past two days.

The more he thought about it, the more one detail stood out.

"Last night on Bell Mountain, I ran empty-handed. I wasn't pulling the rickshaw."

Qin Geng narrowed his eyes, recalling his desperate flight through the night.

It had been a race for his life. To save Shopkeeper Lu and himself, he had driven his legs as hard as they could go, running at the very limit of his speed.

He had passed through perilous ground and bewildering formations, relying purely on the instincts of Step-Sensing Danger and Old Horse Knows the Way to find his way out.

He had gained far more experience that night than he did from pulling a rickshaw all day.

"I gained experience pulling the rickshaw this afternoon too, but it was clearly slower."

"Not slower than before. Slower than last night."

"Could that foreign doctor Henry have been right after all?"

Qin Geng remembered what Henry had said in the rickshaw that day.

—Way Cultivator.

"Way Cultivator... Was the key not the 'cart,' but the 'way'?"

A suspicion began to form in Qin Geng's mind. "Travel ten thousand miles and gain skills that reach the heavens. Perhaps, in its later stages, the Carriage Driver profession requires me to measure the world with my own two feet?"

If so, reaching level forty might well bring a change of profession, or some great transformation.