Chapter 6: Trouble

Chen Qing returned to Yazi Bay, his body dragging with exhaustion.

He pushed open the creaking cabin door to find Mother Han mending a fishing net.

Hearing the movement, she immediately looked up. "A-Qing, you're back? How was... today?"

Chen Qing smiled. "Mother, it’s done."

"Really!?"

Mother Han felt a surge of joy, followed immediately by worry. "Then... is the apprenticeship fee... expensive? Is the master a good person?"

"The master is very strict, but he follows the rules."

Chen Qing walked into the cabin and picked up a water ladle to gulp down some water. "The tuition... I used the silver Cousin Huiniang gave us. It’s enough for now."

Mother Han breathed a sigh of relief. "That’s good."

She took out some warmed-up coarse grain beans. "Eat quickly."

Chen Qing set down his bowl and chopsticks and said, "Mother, I’ll come back tomorrow night to help you weave the fishing nets. We can't let our livelihood slide; after all, one needs to eat to practice martial arts, right?"

"Mm."

Mother Han responded, the dim, flickering lamplight dancing across her face.

As if suddenly remembering something important, she looked up at Chen Qing. "I heard a new gang called the Tiger Gang has arrived, and they are locked in a fierce struggle with the Golden River Gang. You should be careful in your daily travels."

Chen Qing’s brows knit together, and he nodded silently. "I know."

What a world!

The mother and son said nothing more, silently shoveling the warm coarse grain beans into their mouths.

The next day.

Chen Qing arrived at the Zhou courtyard before dawn.

He stepped onto the wooden stakes once more, assuming the twisted, tension-filled posture of the Tongbi Stance.

The familiar, agonizing sensations of soreness, numbness, swelling, and pain instantly swept through his entire body.

Chen Qing gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging. Sweat soon soaked his thin clothes, steaming into a faint white mist.

[Heaven rewards diligence; success is inevitable.]

[Tongbi Stance (Beginner) (6/500)]

The disciples arrived one after another, and they were all somewhat surprised to see Chen Qing.

"That kid really gets here early."

"I saw him grinding away at it yesterday; wonder how long he can last," some whispered.

Chen Qing kept his head down and practiced hard, drawing many gazes.

Some were indifferent, some sneered, and others felt he was just trying to show off in front of the master.

Unknowingly, a month passed, and the whispers gradually died down.

The disciples in the courtyard had grown accustomed to this silent, diligent figure. Chen Qing had become the "newcomer who is exceptionally good at enduring hardship."

The paulownia leaves on the stance platform had grown a bit wider.

Chen Qing stepped onto the three-inch-high wooden stakes, his waist and back as straight as a spear. Beneath his collar, new muscle lines were faintly visible, and his shoulders had broadened by more than half an inch since he first entered the Zhou courtyard.

[Heaven rewards diligence; success is inevitable.]

[Tongbi Stance (Beginner) (211/500)]

That day, Zhou Liang paced over and asked, "How long have you been in the courtyard?"

Chen Qing replied respectfully, "Reporting to Master, one month."

Not long ago, Zhou Liang had checked Chen Qing’s bone structure.

The final result: mediocre.

Zhou Liang’s expression hadn't changed; he had simply offered a few words of encouragement as a matter of routine.

Clearly, he hadn't held much hope to begin with.

Zhou Liang said in a deep voice, "Stance training is the foundation for tempering qi, blood, tendons, and bones; it paves the way for all fist techniques. Your foundation is now stable. Starting tomorrow, you may join the morning class and formally practice combat techniques."

"If there is anything you don't understand, just ask."

After the initial enlightenment, Zhou Liang naturally wouldn't personally teach every disciple.

Only those with exceptional bone structure, who showed promise of inheriting his mantle, would receive his careful guidance.

This introductory stance training was, in a way, a test for all the disciples.

Clearly, in his eyes, Chen Qing was not a piece of uncut jade, but merely sand to be sifted away.

The older disciples were all shrewd; there was no profit to be gained from mentoring this poor, pathetic junior brother, and he was unlikely to amount to much, so most couldn't be bothered with him.

Only the Third Senior Brother, Sun Shun, was kind-hearted and would occasionally offer a pointer or two to the new disciples.

Chen Qing cupped his fists and replied, "Yes, this disciple will keep Master's teachings in mind."

Zhou Liang nodded slightly. "Mm, continue your training."

With that, he returned to the grand armchair under the tree, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the disciples in the courtyard, lost in thought, wondering what he was pondering.

Chen Qing wiped the sweat from his brow and focused on his training again.

[Heaven rewards diligence; success is inevitable.]

[Tongbi Stance (Beginner) (214/500)]

As the sun slanted to the west, Chen Qing had practiced the Tongbi Stance three more times.

"You lot, time to work."

At this moment, a rough shout rang out in the courtyard.

The apprentices in the courtyard, besides practicing martial arts, were also Zhou Liang’s handymen—washing clothes, cooking, carrying water, chopping wood, cleaning the latrines, and feeding the horses; they had to do every menial task.

Chen Qing followed several fellow disciples to begin cleaning the courtyard.

Cleaning the courtyard and feeding the horses weren't the hardest tasks; the worst was cleaning the latrines.

First, one had to use a long-handled wooden ladle to scoop up water to flush the pits, and after flushing, they had to sprinkle a layer of wood ash. It was dirty, tiring, and troublesome.

"Chen Qing, Qin Lie, you two clean the latrines today."

The senior brother in charge of assignments dropped the order and turned away.

Today, Chen Qing’s partner was another disciple who was also from a poor background, dark-skinned and thin, named Qin Lie.

He had entered the Zhou courtyard around the same time as Chen Qing. Both his parents were dead, and he only had an older sister at home.

The difference was that Zhou Liang seemed to value him highly, often guiding him personally and giving him extra training.

Qin Lie smiled a bit sheepishly. "Senior Brother Chen, how about... I’ll do it myself? It’s fine."

"It’s alright, two people will be faster."

Chen Qing waved his hand and started working directly.

The two buried themselves in their work amidst the foul odor.

Other disciples in the courtyard chatted while they worked. Some complained that martial arts training was too bitter, while others dreamed of passing the martial examinations and making a name for themselves.

Qin Lie scooped water to flush the pit and asked in a low voice, "Senior Brother Chen, are you... also here to learn martial arts to take the martial exams?"

"To earn a living," Chen Qing answered very honestly.

Qin Lie was stunned for a moment, then clenched his fists, his eyes showing a spark of determination. "I want to pass the martial exams! So my sister... can live a good life and not have to suffer so much anymore."

Chen Qing looked up and carefully examined the dark, thin boy.

They worked on the chores until the sky grew dark.

As dusk fell, the senior brother who had assigned the tasks hurried back and shouted directly at Qin Lie, "Junior Brother Qin, come with me! You don't have to do these chores anymore!"

Qin Lie was overjoyed upon hearing this and quickly said, "Yes, Senior Brother."

Watching Qin Lie’s back disappear behind the corridor, several disciples nearby couldn't help but mutter, their tone sour

"How long has Qin Lie been here? Why doesn't he have to do chores?"

"Pfft, can you compare to him? He touched the threshold of 'Ming Jin' in less than a month! He’s the apple of Master’s eye!"

"I heard Master not only waived his tuition but also gives him private lessons every day!"

"..."

Qin Lie’s retreating figure was like a thorn, making the disciples present realize even more clearly that their status in this courtyard was, after all, different from those being groomed in the front courtyard.

Chen Qing felt a sense of melancholy in his heart.

After all, many people had fantasized about being a piece of uncut jade, stumbling forward, only to open their palms years later and realize they were nothing but a pebble.

A moment later, once all the work was finished, the crowd dispersed.

The streets were sparsely populated.

From time to time, gang members would dart out, which undoubtedly added a layer of danger.

Chen Qing quickened his pace to bypass them.

Before long, he arrived home.

The dim oil lamp swayed on the table, casting a shadow of Mother Han’s hunched figure.

Her rough fingers moved back and forth on the fishing net, and she asked without looking up, "A-Qing, you're back. Are you tired today?"

Chen Qing took off his training shoes. "Mother, I'm fine. Have you eaten?"

"I just had some porridge."

Mother Han’s hands didn't stop, the thread flying between her fingers. "I sold two fishing nets today. The man didn't really haggle. Let’s save up and see if we can scrape together the tuition for two months from now."

She bit off the thread and gave the mended clothes a gentle shake.

These days, Mother Han had been weaving nets from dawn till dusk, and her eyes were nearly ruined.

Fortunately, Chen Qing’s net-weaving skills were becoming increasingly proficient, and his speed was getting faster.

The mother and son could manage to scrape by with these fishing nets, but gathering that tuition fee was still a drop in the bucket.

"Mother, there are still two months left. Don't worry about the tuition."

Chen Qing squatted down to help organize the loose threads scattered on the floor.

"Tomorrow, Mother will get up early and try my luck at the Dew Market..." The oil lamp licked up the last drop of oil, and the flame grew weaker.

Mother Han moved to the door, and by the cold moonlight, the needle and thread began to weave through the fabric again.

"Clang—!"

Just then, the cabin door was kicked open.

The needlework in Mother Han’s hands jerked, nearly pricking her finger.

Chen Qing instinctively looked toward the sound.

He saw Qian-ye walking in swaggeringly with two burly henchmen. A short blade was tucked into his waist, and the fat on his face trembled with every step.

"Yo, still embroidering this late? Aren't you afraid of going blind?"

Qian-ye said with a sinister tone, his eyes fixed straight on the embroidery Mother Han was about to finish.

Chen Qing calmly shielded Mother Han behind him and said, "Qian-ye, is something the matter?"

"Don't be nervous, A-Qing." Qian-ye grinned, revealing a few black and yellow teeth. "I’m here to bring you a good thing this time."

A good thing!?

Chen Qing sneered inwardly, but on the surface, he asked with confusion, "I don't know what Qian-ye is referring to..."

"The Dragon King has shown mercy and bestowed meat!"

Qian-ye clapped his hands sharply, and the two henchmen behind him immediately dumped a slab of rotting meat onto the deck with a heavy thud.

Suddenly, a nauseating stench filled the air. It was dead pig meat that had been soaking for days; the skin was already a strange, sickly blue-gray, and maggots could be seen faintly wriggling within the decaying tissue.

The so-called "meat bestowed by the Dragon King" was actually a racket where the Golden River Gang forced fishermen to buy diseased, rotting pigs.

Chen Qing’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he fought back the urge to vomit. "Qian-ye, you know we just paid the incense money..."

"What, you won't even give the Dragon King face?"

Qian-ye’s thick, powerful palm slapped heavily onto Chen Qing’s shoulder. "A-Qing, you’re a smart person; don't be foolish."

Chen Qing took a deep breath and said, "Qian-ye, give me some time."

Upon hearing this, Qian-ye unexpectedly didn't get angry. Instead, he stood up and patted Chen Qing’s shoulder. "Fine, I’ll give you three days to scrape it together."

Qian-ye stood up and strode away with his two henchmen.

Once the sound of their footsteps had completely vanished, Mother Han’s lips trembled. "A-Qing, what should we do?"

There was barely enough money left in the house to buy rice bran. If they didn't buy this rotting meat, Mother Han didn't dare think about the consequences of Qian-ye’s ruthless methods.

"Don't worry."

Chen Qing narrowed his eyes. Qian Biao had failed to threaten him into taking a high-interest loan last time, and now he was resorting to force.

He was in such a hurry to sell this "Dragon King meat," and he didn't come during the day but at night—could he be afraid of something?

It was very likely that the Golden River Gang was at a disadvantage in their struggle for territory with the Tiger Gang, and Qian Biao wanted to make one last haul before running away.

Thinking it over, Chen Qing seemed to understand something. He whispered, "Mother, leave this to me."