A Fated Vessel Born of Heaven, in Secret Accord with the Great Dao

"A fated vessel is born of heaven and secretly accords with the Great Dao of yin and yang. Its wonders are beyond words, but in truth, it is a bone-scraping knife that kills without drawing blood. An ordinary person becomes addicted at the slightest touch and never notices even when their marrow has been sucked dry."

Qin Zhong sighed, then warned him, "Martial cultivators value their vitality, energy, and spirit above all else. Until you've found your way into the profession, you'd best stay away from Courtesan Cultivators with fated vessels."

Li Xiang nodded and quietly committed the warning to memory.

Courtesan Cultivators were one of the Hundred Schools of Thought.

The Great Xin Dynasty's system of professions truly encompassed everything. If a profession could be imagined, this world had room for it.

In some ways, this profession was more dangerous than warriors who came at you with blades bared and torches blazing. The land of tender pleasures was a hero's grave.

"There's still some time before tonight's banquet. Let's go up to the second floor and watch a performance first."

Qin Zhong had clearly been here before. He knew his way around and needed no guide as he led Li Xiang toward the stairs.

They had barely stepped onto the second-floor gallery, before they could even look for seats, when an aged voice called out from a private room nearby and stopped them.

"Little Seven?"

The voice held a note of surprise and the particular warmth an elder reserved for a younger man.

"I heard that Huang Silang from the Eight Gates Martial Hall is coming to challenge your hall. The whole city's talking about it. Want old Master Xin to come and lend you some support?"

Qin Zhong stopped short and whipped around.

Inside one of the second-floor private booths sat an old man who looked... utterly out of place in Zither Strings House.

He wore the coarse clothes of a farmer, cloth shoes speckled with mud, and a dry tobacco pipe tucked into his belt. Beside the respectable patrons in suits and long gowns, he looked as though he belonged to another world.

His hair and beard were white and meticulously groomed, while deep furrows crossed his face. Unlike the other patrons, he had no young woman at his side. He sat alone, sipping a pot of plain tea and listening to the music downstairs.

Yet as he sat there, he was like a towering mountain.

The noise and the scent of powder and perfume seemed to veer away of their own accord within three feet of him.

"Master Xin? What are you doing here?"

At the sight of this unexpected figure in Zither Strings House, delight and surprise spread across Qin Zhong's face. He broke into a smile from the heart.

He hurried over, unconsciously straightening his back a little.

"You slippery brat. What, only you young folk are allowed to come here and enjoy yourselves? These old bones can't come listen to a tune?"

The old man they called Master Xin laughed as he scolded him. "Old Master Xin has gotten old, not lost his vigor."

"Yes, yes. You're as hale as ever. You can eat nine bowls of rice in one sitting and pull a rickshaw several times faster than a car from the West."

Qin Zhong chuckled. Seeing that Master Xin's cup was empty, he naturally picked up the teapot and respectfully refilled it.

Master Xin lifted the cup, gently blew aside the foam, and took a sip. His gaze passed over Qin Zhong and settled on Li Xiang, who stood behind him.

He looked Li Xiang up and down, then glanced at Qin Zhong. His meaning was obvious.

Qin Zhong knew the etiquette. At Master Xin's questioning look, he immediately drew Li Xiang forward and introduced him. "Master Xin, this brother of mine trains with me at the Shocking Heron Martial Hall. His name is Li Xiang."

Then he turned to Li Xiang. "Brother Li, this is Xin Tianya, the head of the Horizon Carriage Company. Master Xin is a master among us Rickshaw Drivers in Linjiang County. Every rickshaw puller in the southern part of the city answers to him."

A master?

Li Xiang felt a slight stir in his heart.

A master was an expert.

In this world, the ranks of professionals were strictly defined: beginner, proficient, expert, master, and grandmaster. Together, they were known as the Lower Five Realms. Above grandmaster stood the Divine Practitioner.

The old captain of the Blackwater had been an expert. Only recently had he refined an advancement pill with the lives of several hundred people and risen to master.

Huang Silang, the chief instructor of the Eight Gates Martial Hall, could trade blows with Hong Tianbao, a master martial cultivator. He, too, was an expert-level powerhouse.

The term "expert" had entered the Great Xin Dynasty with the influx of Western culture.

Some of the new-style professionals who returned from overseas felt that "expert" described the profession's third realm better than "master." It sounded more scientific, more modern.

Over time, the term spread among the younger generation of professionals.

Li Xiang had never expected this unremarkable, somewhat rustic old farmer to be a powerhouse of the same rank as Huang Silang.

"This is Li Xiang, a student at the Shocking Heron Martial Hall. He's taking part in the match against the Eight Gates Martial Hall."

Qin Zhong gestured toward Li Xiang and said to Xin Tianya with a hint of pride, "What do you think, Master Xin? My brother's a tough one, isn't he?"

"He's been training less than a month, and he already dared accept a Knife-Clasping Hand-Wrestling match."

"Oh?"

When Xin Tianya's cloudy old eyes turned to Li Xiang again, his gaze grew a little sharper.

"Training less than a month, yet you dare fight a Knife-Clasping Hand-Wrestling match. That takes more than guts. It takes a life tough enough to survive it. You're tough indeed."

Li Xiang was still wondering how to address this senior. After all, Xin Tianya was a senior in the carriage trade, while he was a junior in the martial world.

Xin Tianya waved a hand. "Little Seven introduced you, so forget the empty formalities. Just call me Master Xin.

"If you run into trouble in Linjiang County, you can come to the Horizon Carriage Company and find me, as well as going to your Master Hong."

"Junior Li Xiang pays his respects to Master Xin."

Li Xiang did not dare presume on the offer. He stepped back, straightened his clothes, clasped his fists, and gave a proper junior's salute.

"That's enough. My trade is hard labor, one of the lower nine. We don't have the lofty status or all the rules of you martial cultivators in the upper nine. Still..."

Xin Tianya nodded, accepting the salute, then looked back at Qin Zhong. A trace of loneliness flickered in his eyes, almost too faint to see.

"The Rickshaw Driver profession may be one of the lower nine and beneath the notice of important people, but old Master Xin has spent his whole life making his way in Linjiang. I've still got enough standing to put in a word or two."

The Three Teachings, the upper nine, and the Hundred Schools of Thought.

Any profession outside those ranks was collectively called one of the lower nine.

There was a trace of resentment in Xin Tianya's voice as he spoke.

But that resentment was not directed at Li Xiang. It was aimed at fate—and at Hong Tianbao.

Xin Tianya had watched Qin Zhong grow up. Orphaned, born with divine strength, and possessed of a hardy fate, the boy was the perfect heir in his eyes.

He had wanted to teach Qin Zhong everything he knew, let him take over the Horizon Carriage Company, and carry the Rickshaw Driver lineage to greater heights.

Then Hong Tianbao had come along.

That Martial Laureate from the former dynasty had stepped in and stolen away the person Xin Tianya cherished with the promise of a bright future in martial cultivation.

Later, Qin Zhong had said that if Master Xin gave the word, he would stay and never go to the Shocking Heron Martial Hall.

Xin Tianya had not given the word. Nor had he wanted to.

As an elder, how could he bear to stand in the way when a young man had the chance to climb higher, escape the mire of the lower nine, and join the respected upper nine?

After all, compared with the bright future of a martial cultivator, the Rickshaw Driver profession truly had little standing and too low a ceiling. Forget grandmasters—even masters were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

"You make it sound like I've forgotten where I came from." Qin Zhong heard the bitterness in Master Xin's words. "Even if I, Qin Seven, become a Martial Saint, I'll still be a man you raised and trained."

"Don't go putting words in my mouth, brat."

Xin Tianya glared at him, his voice turning heavy. "You grew up without parents. I watched you grow up. If things ever go badly for you at the Shocking Heron Martial Hall, or anyone does you wrong, you can come back to the Horizon Carriage Company anytime.

"As long as old Master Xin is alive, the doors of the Horizon Carriage Company will always be open to you. Until the day I die, I'll have your back."

"Master Xin..."

His words were fiercely protective and full of affection.

Qin Zhong, a strapping man well over six feet tall, instantly went red around the eyes. It felt as though a wad of cotton had lodged in his throat. Overwhelmed, he could not get a word out.

Standing to one side, Li Xiang was moved as he watched the old man and the young man.

He could see it now. Xin Tianya truly treated Qin Zhong like his own grandson. The bond between them was as real as blood.

"All right, enough. A real man sheds blood and sweat, not tears. I can't stand seeing a man blubber like a woman. It's embarrassing."

Seeing Qin Zhong like this, Xin Tianya waved them off uneasily, shooing them away like flies.

"Go on, get out of here. Stop blocking my view and spoiling my enjoyment of the performance."

"Then... enjoy yourself, Master Xin. We'll be going."

Qin Zhong sniffed and led Li Xiang away.

Only when the two had vanished from sight at the far end of the gallery did Xin Tianya's straight back slump a little.

He raised a calloused hand, touched the corner of his eye, then put his finger to his lips and licked it.

It was salty.

"So it was sweat... I knew these old bones couldn't possibly have any tears left."

He murmured to himself, picked up the cup Qin Zhong had filled for him, and drained it in one gulp.