Former Dynasty Martial Laureate Hong Tianbao

The doors of the Shocking Heron Martial Hall stood open. Shouts rolled out like thunder, mingled with the sharp clang of clashing weapons. The sound stirred the ferocity in a person's bones and set the blood racing.

Li Xiang took eight copper coins from his pocket and handed them to the young rickshaw driver.

"Thanks, brother. You've got good legs."

"Much obliged, sir!"

Qin Zhong grinned as he took the coins. He weighed them in his palm, listened to their clink, then tucked them into the pouch at his waist.

Rather than leave after dropping off his passenger, as he usually did, he leaned his gleaming rickshaw beside the gatehouse, wiped his face with the towel around his neck, and followed Li Xiang through the gates.

Li Xiang stopped and looked back at him.

"First time here, sir? You won't know your way around. Let me show you."

As they walked, Qin Zhong launched into an enthusiastic explanation. "The Shocking Heron Martial Hall has three courtyards. The front one's where new apprentices toughen their bodies. Use the stone locks and stone barbells all you like, if you've got the strength."

Li Xiang gave the driver a surprised look. Now that's service. Those eight coins were well spent.

They crossed the broad front courtyard. More than a hundred bare-chested men were sweating buckets beneath the blazing sun.

Some held horse stances, their legs shaking like sieves.

Others lifted stone locks, faces flushed and veins bulging.

The air was thick with sweat and the medicinal smell of liniment.

"That's a powerful smell," Li Xiang remarked.

"You bet." Qin Zhong chuckled and pointed inward. "Past that decorated gate is the middle courtyard. That's where the senior apprentices who've learned the basics practice forms and spar. Outsiders aren't allowed in."

"As for the rear courtyard, heh, that's the master's private residence. Most people can't even get a look at it."

They went straight to the registration desk in the main hall.

A large Red Sandalwood desk stood in the center, with an empty Grand Tutor Chair behind it.

Li Xiang was about to look around for someone in charge when Qin Zhong walked over and plopped himself into the chair.

"Hm?" Li Xiang stared.

Qin Zhong pulled a thick ledger from under the desk, picked up a brush, dipped it in the inkstone, and looked up at Li Xiang's astonished face with a broad, toothy grin.

"We've talked all this time, and I still haven't asked your name, sir."

Li Xiang paused, then laughed. "Li Xiang. So you work for the Martial Arts Hall?"

"Naturally."

Qin Zhong scrawled the name into the ledger and chuckled. "If you want to learn real kung fu, you first have to learn to endure hardship. The master says if you train your fists but not your legs, you'll grow old a reckless fool. In our line of work, the lower body is the foundation."

He pointed proudly at the rickshaw outside. "I don't pull that thing just to earn a few coins and feed my family. It's how I train the drive and stride in my legs. Once I can outrun the city tram while pulling it, my legwork will finally be complete."

So that's it.

There were masters in every trade. Even pulling a rickshaw could be part of training.

Li Xiang nodded, his opinion of the Shocking Heron Martial Hall rising another notch.

If even a rickshaw driver trained with such purpose, Master Hong must have something special to teach.

"You picked a good day to come, Master Li. The master is selecting newcomers himself today."

Qin Zhong pointed to the other side of the hall. "Quite a few people have gathered over there. Wait with them. Once everyone's here, the master will appear."

Li Xiang followed his finger.

Good grief. There had to be at least a hundred people packed together.

The crowd was divided as clearly as two banks of a river.

On the left stood poor youths in coarse, short clothes, their feet bare. Most were gaunt and sallow, but they stared at the Training Ground with resolute eyes, hoping to learn skills that could change their lives.

On the right stood rich young men in silk gowns, flicking folding fans.

Even here, they put on airs. Most had servants behind them carrying teapots and towels.

When it comes to martial arts, the rich hold the advantage. Li Xiang found an inconspicuous corner and settled in.

Training in martial arts burned through money.

Never mind the initiation gift and tuition. Eating meat every day to build vitality, soaking in medicinal baths, rubbing on liniment—it all added up to a bottomless pit.

Without some family wealth, an ordinary household might sell its house and still fail to support a martial artist long enough to learn the basics.

Li Xiang felt the Silver Dollars in his pocket. They had seemed like a fortune before. Now, if he wanted to make real progress, they probably wouldn't last long.

I need to find a way to make money. Or... find resources that don't cost anything.

Just then, the noisy crowd quieted somewhat. Everyone turned toward the entrance at once.

Two graceful figures approached through the sunlight.

The one in front was a girl of sixteen or seventeen.

Rather than wear her hair short or curled in the current fashion, she had braided it into a long, glossy black plait that reached her waist.

It swayed gently as she walked, a red cord tied at its end, moving with a rhythm all its own.

Her face was no bigger than a palm, her skin as fair as a freshly peeled egg.

Her features were delicate, especially her eyes. They shone like twin clear springs, bright with the grace of the South's waterside towns.

"What a beauty," a rich young man murmured nearby, forgetting to wave his fan.

Beside the girl walked a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties.

Her fitted dark-green qipao traced a full, graceful figure. She held a sandalwood fan, and every movement carried a mature elegance. She smiled, though there was a keen, capable look about her.

"That's our senior sister, Ye Qingyao, the master's daughter."

Qin Zhong had somehow appeared beside Li Xiang again. Lowering his voice, he said, "Don't let her delicate looks fool you. She learned directly from the master. Few of us grown men could last three moves against her."

"Ye?" Li Xiang raised an eyebrow. "Isn't the master's surname Hong? Why is his daughter's Ye?"

"Ah, there's a story behind that."

Qin Zhong pointed to the beautiful woman, lowering his voice further. A gossipy glint entered his eyes.

"That's the master's wife, Ye Wanqing. Madam Ye is famous here in Linjiang County. She runs the Wanqing Tailor Shop and makes clothes for high officials and nobles. I hear even the warlord commanders' concubines have to book appointments."

Qin Zhong glanced around and leaned close to Li Xiang's ear. "Master Hong came from Guangzhou. Before he became the Martial Laureate, he was poor as a church mouse. He ended up working as a guard for the Ye Family. Then, after spending enough time together, he and the young lady fell in love... heh."

"The old master of the Ye Family looked down on the penniless lad and flatly refused the marriage."

"But Master Hong proved himself. He fought his way all the way to the capital and became the Former Dynasty's Martial Laureate, then returned in glory."

"In the end, he still married into the Ye Family. So Master Hong really is a live-in son-in-law."

"Naturally, his daughter took her mother's family name."

A live-in son-in-law?

The Former Dynasty's Martial Laureate, the man who had killed a Gold-Swallowing Beast with one punch, was a live-in son-in-law?

Li Xiang listened with relish. The contrast was almost too much.

Apparently, Master Hong was skilled not only with his fists but also at living off his wife's family without losing an ounce of pride.

"Ahem. When did I ever say I married into her family?"

A warm, mellow voice, touched with amusement, sounded softly behind them.

Li Xiang and Qin Zhong both froze.

They felt like schoolboys caught bad-mouthing their teacher behind his back.

Li Xiang cursed inwardly. What was wrong with these experts? Why did they all move like ghosts without making a sound?

First Lin Shouzhen, now Hong Tianbao. Couldn't a man have a little privacy?

Li Xiang turned. A middle-aged man in loose training clothes had appeared behind them.

He looked nothing like the burly, fierce-faced, broad-backed Martial Laureate Li Xiang had imagined.

Master Hong was fat.

Remarkably round, in fact.

He was short, perhaps a meter sixty-five, with a round body and a belly that filled out his training clothes.

His cheeks were plump, his skin fair, and his smiling eyes narrowed to slits. He looked like Maitreya Buddha stepped out of a New Year print, harmless and amiable.

Put him in a long robe and jacket with an abacus in hand, and he could have been the proprietor of a grain-and-oil shop.

"Ma... Master!" Qin Zhong's legs nearly gave out. He hurriedly cupped his fists, smiling weakly as cold sweat broke out across his face.

"I... I was only repeating rumors to entertain the newcomer. Just talking nonsense... Please don't take it seriously..."

Not hall master, not teacher—Master. So Qin Zhong really is his direct disciple.

Hong Tianbao did not seem angry. Still smiling, he patted Qin Zhong's sturdy shoulder.

"Solid. Looks like you haven't been slacking off with that rickshaw."

Qin Zhong was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Hong Tianbao added slowly, "In that case, starting tomorrow, strap ten pounds of sandbags to your legs when you pull it. Double your training."

"Huh?" Qin Zhong's face crumpled.

"What? Too light?" Hong Tianbao's smile deepened. "And what are you supposed to call me in public?"

"No, no, not too light. It's just right, Hall... Hall Master. I have something to attend to. I'll be going."

As though granted a pardon, Qin Zhong abandoned the unfinished ledger and bolted toward the front courtyard like a startled rabbit.

Once Qin Zhong was gone, Hong Tianbao's narrow eyes turned slowly to Li Xiang.

"New here?" Hong Tianbao asked casually.

"Greetings, Master Hong."

Li Xiang did not dare be careless. Following the martial-world etiquette Lin Xuanguang had taught him, he cupped his fists respectfully. "I'm Li Xiang. I've long admired your reputation and came to become your disciple."

Hong Tianbao did not return the salute. Instead, he walked halfway around Li Xiang.

"Have you trained in martial arts?"

"No," Li Xiang answered honestly.

"Really?"

Hong Tianbao stopped. The smile vanished from his face.

Boom!

In that instant, the world before Li Xiang seemed to change.

The round, smiling man disappeared. In his place stood a giant who towered between heaven and earth.

An indescribable pressure crashed down on Li Xiang like Mount Tai falling upon his head.

He struggled to breathe. His knees weakened. Instinct urged him to kneel and submit—or turn and run.

But he did neither.

Under that crushing fear, his spine pulled straighter.

Li Xiang gritted his teeth and stared into Hong Tianbao's eyes. Cold sweat soaked his back, but he did not retreat a single step. Stubbornness and sheer force of will held him upright.

Three seconds.

After only three seconds, the terrifying pressure vanished as though it had never existed.

Hong Tianbao was once again a smiling, round-faced man.

"Good. No sign that you've trained in martial arts."

Hong Tianbao nodded, approval flickering in his eyes. "Your vitality is stronger than most people's, but your meridians are unopened and your dantian undeveloped. An uncarved piece of jade."

"More impressive is your resolve. Even martial artists who've trained for years might have buckled just now, yet you stood your ground. You've got promise."

Then he shook his head with a hint of regret. "The only shame is your age. Starting at twenty is a little late. But never mind. If you're willing to work hard, even your thirties or forties are a fine age to strive."

"Come along."

Hong Tianbao waved a hand, clasped both hands behind his back, and strolled toward the raised platform at the center of the Training Ground.

The sun blazed overhead.

More than a hundred prospective students stood in orderly rows below the platform, craning their necks to watch the fat man above them.

Hong Tianbao stood on the platform with several burly Martial Arts Hall students at his side.

He swept his gaze across the crowd. His smile faded, replaced by a gravity they had not seen before.

"I know why you've come."

Hong Tianbao did not speak loudly, yet his voice reached every ear clearly, setting eardrums buzzing.

"Some of you heard that I killed a Gold-Swallowing Beast with one punch. You think I have real skills, and you want to learn a move or two so you can survive this Age of Chaos—or win yourselves wealth and status."

Most of the crowd fell silent. He had clearly struck home.

"I can give you that chance."

Hong Tianbao raised one finger. "I won't charge tuition or demand an initiation gift. I'll teach you my finest skills without holding anything back."

An uproar swept through the crowd.

Of the dozen or so martial arts halls in Linjiang County—and even across Tianjin—most did not teach their genuine skills.

There were two main reasons.

First, there were too many unscrupulous people in the world. Real kung fu was both a killing art and a path of self-cultivation. Teaching it to someone with a crooked heart would betray one's forebears and the art itself.

Second was the most practical reason: teach the student everything, and the master would starve.

If a master taught his disciple every skill he kept at the bottom of the chest, the disciple might surpass him and establish his own school. How would the master earn a living then?

It was like a restaurant's secret family recipe. Keep it in the family, and there would be a steady stream of income to feed generations of descendants.

No wonder they found it hard to believe someone would teach his real skills.

"No tuition?!"

"Is that true? Since when does such a good deal exist?"

"I asked at the Dragon Gate Escort Agency's Martial Arts Hall. The enrollment fee alone was fifty Silver Dollars!"

Even Li Xiang was stunned.

Free?

His experience in his previous life told him that free things often cost the most.

Hong Tianbao looked at the excited crowd. "Don't celebrate yet. I haven't finished."

He raised a second finger.

"Tuition is free, but you'll pay one-third of the costs for medicinal baths, food supplements, and wear on weapons."

"Don't underestimate that third. It's no small sum. There's a reason they say the poor study books while the rich train in martial arts. Without money, you won't forge this mortal body into anything."

The faces of many poor youths fell.

Even one-third of the costs was an astronomical sum to them.

"That isn't the important part." Hong Tianbao's voice rose sharply, carrying a chilling edge.

"The important part is this: I won't take your money because I intend to take your lives."