The Peculiar Martial Arts School

Ren Qing silently took a money pouch from his bosom. It was heavy, at least several dozen taels—enough to support a family of three for years.

Though the Yamen was swamped with work and one unlucky slip could mean dying on the job, the monthly salary was solid and real.

Liu Hu took the pouch, weighed it in his hand, tossed some silver back to Ren Qing, then nodded with a flat expression. "Enough. Come back in seven days to pick up the saber."

Ren Qing turned to leave, but just as he opened the blacksmith shop's door, Liu Hu stopped him.

"What's the rush?"

"This so-called Great Miao Saber of yours—I've never seen anyone in Sanxiang City use it. So how do you usually practice with it?"

Ren Qing frowned. A saber—did it even need practice?

Seeing this, Liu Hu sighed. "Wait for me a moment."

He walked out into the yard beyond the forge, and after a while, came back inside carrying a thick tree trunk.

"This kind of weapon needs your body to get used to it quickly. If you practice with a real blade right away, you'll end up hurting yourself."

"I—"

Ren Qing started to explain, but Liu Hu grabbed an axe and split the trunk open, then hacked out a rough blade-and-sword shape.

He wisely shut his mouth and waited for the wooden form to take shape.

After the better part of an hour, the wooden saber in Liu Hu's hands looked lifelike. He gave it a simple swing, nearly hitting Ren Qing.

"This is ironwood. It can serve as a weapon for a short while. But your Great Miao Saber isn't some made-up thing—it's just hard to use flexibly."

"Brother Liu, let me give it a try."

Ren Qing took the wooden saber. His narrowed eyes shifted as his Double Pupils turned.

He slashed fiercely, then instantly pulled back.

On a nearby wooden table, the candle flame went out under the saber's wind, yet the paper beside it didn't stir at all.

Liu Hu stood dumbfounded. It wasn't exactly masterful swordsmanship, but there was a certain... how to put it, a natural, effortless quality.

He watched Ren Qing leave the forge, and when he came to his senses, he couldn't help but let out a wry laugh.

He'd thought Ren Qing looked down on him, but wasn't he doing the same?

The clang of hammering rang out again, and smoke drifted slowly through the cracks in the door and windows.

Ren Qing stepped onto the street. The wooden Great Miao Saber's appearance caught the attention of passersby.

He headed toward the Chen Family Eight Extremities Leg martial hall, weaving through a few alleys until he reached his destination.

The hall sat on a small plot of land, even too remote.

From Ren Qing's investigation, the hall had no more than a dozen disciples, all orphans raised by Chen Yongxing since childhood. The latter also had a daughter named Chen Lihua.

Strangely enough, the hall rarely recruited outsiders before, mainly taking in beggars and orphans.

It was clearly a subsidiary force of the Bloodhound Gang.

Only recently had the hall started taking in students, but Hall Master Chen Yongxing suddenly fell gravely ill, leaving the business cold.

Ren Qing walked straight into the yard. On the open ground, a dozen people were practicing leg techniques, kicking wooden stakes repeatedly.

The crowd stared coldly at Ren Qing, their movements slowing.

Ren Qing wore plain cotton-linen clothes, outwardly just someone here to learn martial arts. Once he grasped the Divine Feet Scripture, he'd bolt immediately.

His peripheral vision swept the yard. He sensed no trace of cultivators.

Just as Ren Qing was about to speak, he noticed something odd about the martial hall disciples practicing leg techniques—their body proportions were strange.

The disciples' legs were extremely thick, packed with solid muscle, and without exception made up over half their bodies.

If one person had such a trait, it might be coincidence. But since a whole group shared it, something felt off.

An older disciple stepped forward and asked, "You... here to apprentice?"

Ren Qing cupped his fists and replied, "I heard Hall Master Chen's skills are impressive, so I thought I'd study under him for a while."

"Alright, follow me."

The disciple nodded slightly and led Ren Qing into the building.

The more Ren Qing watched the way he moved, the more awkward it seemed. He deliberately brushed against him, but the information didn't show any techniques.

How could their legs seem so altered, yet not from practicing any art?

With this doubt, Ren Qing arrived at a room. The disciple opened the door and made a gesture for him to enter.

He stepped inside, catching a faint herbal scent.

The room was sparsely furnished. On the bed lay a weak man—Chen Yongxing.

His breath was unsteady, as if he might expire at any moment.

A girl of fifteen or sixteen was feeding Chen Yongxing medicine, though he tried to push her arm away, lacking the strength.

When she finished, she spoke in a soft voice: "I am Chen Lihua, Chen Yongxing's daughter. Since my father is unwell, I must handle matters in his place."

"Can Hall Master Chen speak?"

"Apologies, my father can no longer manage on his own. If you still wish to learn the Eight Extremities Leg, my senior brother will have to teach in his stead."

"That's fine."

Ren Qing's surface was utterly calm, but inside he felt an indescribable strangeness.

Just a few days ago, he had seen Chen Yongxing. The man showed no signs of ailment whatsoever, and still had seven or eight years of lifespan remaining.

Moreover, as a Martial Human Realm cultivator, minor injuries or illnesses could never have such an effect.

Chen Lihua studied Ren Qing for a moment, then spoke with satisfaction: "Three silver taels a month, one lesson every three days. But you're not allowed to leave the martial arts hall without reason."

Ren Qing agreed. If things went smoothly, it wouldn't take long anyway.

"Woo woo woo..."

Chen Yongxing let out a cry, as if trying to say something, but Chen Lihua forcibly pressed him down on the bed, keeping him immobile.

Ren Qing felt that the martial arts hall was steeped in eeriness, but since he hadn't detected any Half-Corpse Realm cultivators, protecting himself shouldn't be a problem.

And the chaos would make it easier for him to obtain the Divine Feet Scripture.

Ren Qing walked out of the room and was led by the earlier martial arts hall disciple to the Martial Arts Hall, a space dedicated to practicing forms.

Inside were six registered disciples who had paid to train.

Their exposed skin was dotted with bruises, and each sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion.

The instructor was a handsome young man. When he saw Ren Qing enter, he asked the martial arts hall disciple about the situation.

Ren Qing noticed two martial arts hall disciples standing in the shadows of the corner, as if monitoring every move in the Martial Arts Hall.

"This Humble One is Jin Bing. How should I address you, junior brother?"

"Ren Qing."

"Junior Brother Ren, rest a while first. We'll begin the lesson shortly."

Jin Bing was very courteous, even proactively pouring Ren Qing some tea. It seemed he was used to this.

Ren Qing casually sat on a cushion. The other registered disciples eyed him warily, but none spoke.

In this strange atmosphere, over half an hour passed.

Someone knocked on the door of the Martial Arts Hall. Chen Lihua's voice came through: "Prepare yourselves. Time for the evening meal."

Jin Bing's expression turned fearful. The two martial arts hall disciples looked greedy, while the registered disciples showed varied expressions.

Fear, ruthlessness, helplessness...

Ren Qing had no idea what was happening, but the situation seemed to be spiraling beyond expectations.

Chen Lihua continued: "Senior Brother Jin, choose one person to dine with us."

Hearing this, Jin Bing trembled all over. He couldn't help dry-heaving a few times, then spoke as if drained of strength: "Choose among yourselves."