Local, could you give me directions?

The sun sank behind the western hills, and the city lights began to glow.

The Wanqing Tailor Shop had closed for the day.

Li Xiang and Qin Zhong changed back into their own clothes and walked out the door, exhaustion written across their faces.

They had barely taken a few steps when a young girl in a maid's uniform sidled up furtively and slipped a fragrant pink letter into Li Xiang's hand.

"Mr. Li, this is from my mistress. She wanted to ask whether you're free tonight. She'd like to invite you to the Heavenly Fragrance Tower... for tea."

Before Li Xiang could speak, Qin Zhong's eyes went wide beside him.

"Tea? What sort of tea do you drink this late at night? More like a taste of her, isn't it?" Qin Zhong muttered.

Li Xiang smiled politely and pushed the letter back. "Please thank your mistress for her kind invitation, but I have to practice tonight. I really can't spare the time. My apologies."

The little maid left looking disappointed.

On the way back, Qin Zhong rubbed his stiff neck as he walked and complained, "Oh, my heavens, being a model is more exhausting than boxing.

"My face went stiff from smiling, and then I had to act aloof and keep a straight face. It was worse than holding a horse stance for four hours.

"And that hair wax, or whatever it's called, felt awful plastered all over my head. My scalp couldn't even breathe."

Qin Zhong tugged at his collar and took deep breaths of the cool outdoor air, alive with the bustle of everyday life. "These short tunics and trousers are much better. Comfortable, airy, and free!"

Li Xiang couldn't help laughing at his comical appearance. "Senior Brother Qin, count your blessings. If the other disciples at the Martial Arts Hall knew we'd been modeling, wouldn't they be green with envy?"

"Envy, my ass." Qin Zhong spat. "Whoever wants to do it can go. I'm not coming back tomorrow... wait, no. I promised Master's wife, so I still have to."

They chatted as they headed toward the Martial Arts Hall.

Passing a roadside stall, Qin Zhong bought two freshly baked sesame flatbreads and handed one to Li Xiang.

Li Xiang took a bite. It was crisp outside and soft inside, and the fragrance of sesame burst across his tongue.

"Oh, right." Li Xiang stopped. "Senior Brother Qin, do me a favor."

"What is it? Tell me." Qin Zhong spoke indistinctly around a large mouthful of flatbread.

"Help me get a rickshaw tomorrow," Li Xiang said.

"A rickshaw?" Qin Zhong froze. "What for? Where are you going? I'll pull you."

"I don't want you to pull me. I want to pull it myself," Li Xiang said seriously. "I want to be a Rickshaw Driver."

"What?!"

Qin Zhong's eyes widened, and he reached out to feel Li Xiang's forehead. "Brother, you aren't running a fever, are you? You want to do that Lower Nine Classes backbreaking work?"

In this era, where professionals reigned supreme, professions weren't divided into noble and lowly—but they certainly differed in strength.

For a Confucian Cultivator to pull a rickshaw was a disgrace to scholarly dignity.

For a Martial Cultivator to pull one was to lower his own standing.

Qin Zhong had grown up struggling in the mire of rickshaw pulling. Rickshaw drivers were his roots, so he didn't care how others saw him. But Li Xiang was different. Giving up a perfectly good place among the Upper Nine Classes to become a rickshaw driver was debasing himself in the eyes of his peers.

"So what if it's the Lower Nine Classes? As long as I can develop real skills, I don't care about the so-called Three Teachings and Nine Classes or the Hundred Schools of Thought."

Li Xiang swatted Qin Zhong's hand away and explained, "You saw it yourself. When I sparred with Senior Sister Ye, my hand techniques kept up, but my footwork still wasn't nimble enough, and my lower-body endurance was lacking."

"I remember you saying you developed all that leg strength by pulling rickshaws."

He pointed at Qin Zhong's sturdy thighs. "You can't just grind away at martial arts in the Training Ground. You have to get moving. I want to do what you did—start pulling a rickshaw tomorrow and train my legs."

Qin Zhong listened in bewilderment, then gave him a thumbs-up. "My good brother, you really are determined to outwork everyone."

"All right. If you want to train, I'll help you." Seeing how firm Li Xiang was, he stopped trying to dissuade him.

"First thing tomorrow morning, I'll get a rickshaw sent over from the Harmony Carriage Yard."

"But let me get the ugly part out of the way first: pulling a rickshaw is hard labor. Don't train yourself into the ground and turn into a weak-legged shrimp when it's time to fight. Your peers would laugh at you for the rest of your life."

"Don't worry. I know my limits." Li Xiang raised a hand to assure him he could put every last worry to rest.

He hadn't told the truth.

Training his legs was part of it, but more importantly, he wanted to unlock the [Rickshaw Driver] profession.

Whatever was lacking, he would shore it up.

Hong Tianbao and Ye Qingyao said his lower body was unsteady? Then he would make it rock-solid for them.

Judging by Qin Zhong's performance, the Rickshaw Driver profession definitely provided substantial bonuses to stamina and leg strength.

By the time they returned to the Shocking Heron Martial Arts Hall, dinner was approaching.

Hong Tianbao wasn't at the Martial Arts Hall. He was probably hiding to avoid facing the two disciples he had "sold off."

It wasn't until the next day that Hong Tianbao appeared in the Medicine Room in the rear courtyard.

Li Xiang sat in the vat, feeling the now-feeble medicinal potency slowly seep into his body.

The Golden Cicada merely gave a lazy chirp, took one sip, and stopped moving. Clearly, it had lost interest in medicinal potency as bland as plain water.

An hour later.

[After tempering in the medicinal bath, your innate constitution improved slightly...]

[Boxer experience +1]

[Boxer experience +1]

[...]

[Profession: Boxer]

[Level: Lv4 (14/40)]

It really only gave me five points of Boxer experience?

Li Xiang climbed out of the vat and smiled bitterly at the medicinal brew, which had barely changed color.

The Golden Cicada is far too domineering. That Female Jiangshi definitely wasn't anyone ordinary.

Hong Tianbao pushed the door open, glanced at the water in the vat, and nodded.

"That's enough. Stop soaking. Any more would just waste medicinal ingredients."

Hong Tianbao looked at Li Xiang's powerful, lean muscles, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "Your sinews and bones have been tempered to their limit. From here on, it'll take patient, steady work and actual combat."

"Starting tomorrow, you don't need to come to the Medicine Room."

"Yes, Hall Master."

Li Xiang got dressed and bowed deeply to Hong Tianbao.

He would remember the kindness of those vats of medicinal baths.

After breakfast, Qin Zhong duly arrived at the Martial Arts Hall's entrance, pushing a rickshaw that looked almost new.

"Brother Li, I got your rickshaw. I picked it out carefully. The bearings have just been oiled, so it runs nice and smooth."

Qin Zhong patted the seat. "And I've already spoken to the steward at the Horizon Carriage Company. For the time being, you'll be registered under our Harmony Carriage Yard. Nobody will dare give you trouble."

He paused, then continued, "But we can't bend the rules. The usual cut still applies."

"Thank you, Senior Brother Qin."

Li Xiang changed into an unremarkable gray tunic and trousers, put on cloth shoes with thick, layered soles, and donned a straw hat that hid half his face.

He lifted the shafts and tested how they felt.

They were indeed good—light and steady.

"I'm heading out, then."

Pulling the rickshaw, Li Xiang walked out through the Martial Arts Hall's gates.

From that day on, he was not only a student of the Shocking Heron Martial Arts Hall, but also a rickshaw puller on the streets of Linjiang County.

Meanwhile, at the West Wharf in Blackwater Ancient Town.

A group of blond, blue-eyed foreigners in sharply pressed suits and cork sun helmets were disembarking from a pitch-black iron-hulled ship.

The foreigner at their head held a yellowed map and was saying something in halting Chinese to the guide beside him, who kept nodding and bowing.

The guide replied, "Mr. Leonard, this is Blackwater Ancient Town."

The foreigner named Leonard asked another question. "Where is the Blackwater Pool we're looking for?"

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Leonard."

Old Zhang squatted on a stone bollard at the wharf, puffing away at his tobacco pipe as he watched the foreigners who looked so out of place.

"What do foreigners want with Blackwater Pool?"

He was a veteran laborer at this wharf and had seen all sorts of people, but this was his first time seeing foreigners flocking into such a remote backwater.

"Who knows? Maybe they've sniffed out some treasure on our land." The young porter beside him spat. "Those foreign devils have noses sharper than dogs."

As they spoke, the guide jogged over. His gaze swept across the squatting laborers before finally settling on Old Zhang, who looked the most honest and simple of the lot.

"Local, could you give me directions?"

PS: Dear readers, please keep following the daily updates. Once the paid chapters launch, updates will start at ten thousand characters a day. For every additional 100 monthly votes, I'll post one extra chapter on launch day (4.2/∞), with no upper limit.