Chapter 25: Departure

The night deepened.

The river patrols shouted their commands before dispersing; some returned home, while others made plans to go out for wine and entertainment.

Chen Qing walked toward his home, the early autumn evening breeze carrying a hint of chill.

As he reached Yazi Bay, he saw fishermen gathering in small groups in front of Aunt Cuihua's house, shaking their heads and sighing in gloom.

Chen Qing stepped forward and asked, "Uncle Dachun, what happened?"

Uncle Dachun let out a heavy sigh. "Old Liu's family went to the dew market early this morning to sell salted fish. They were ambushed on the way back. Not only was the money stolen, but their legs were broken clean through. They haven't woken up yet."

"There have been too many thugs out there committing robberies lately. You be careful too!"

In this outer city, one never knew how many greedy eyes were lurking. Among them were thief gangs and many desperate outlaws.

Hearing this, Chen Qing frowned slightly. He said no more and turned toward his own awning boat.

In the reeds by the shore, several water birds flapped their wings and took flight, merging into the heavy darkness of the night.

"Mother, I'm back."

Lifting the canvas cover, Chen Qing stripped off his sweat-soaked short shirt.

Lady Han was mending a fishing net by the light of an oil lamp, her coarse fingers moving deftly through the mesh.

"There is some fish soup in the pot," Lady Han said without looking up.

Chen Qing scooped a bowl of the thin fish soup, which was so clear the bottom was visible, with only a few small miscellaneous fish floating sporadically in it.

He took a sip and said, "We have enough nets at home. Mother, you should rest as well."

"Even if we can't sell them now, there will come a day when we can."

Lady Han sighed, pressing her knuckles against her temples to massage them. "At this time in previous years, it was the peak fishing season. The docks should have been crowded with merchants buying fish, but this year, it's as if the Dragon King has taxed the fish in the river; they are sparse and scattered."

"Now the fishermen can't even afford to eat, and the nets aren't selling either."

As she spoke, a trace of sorrow appeared between her brows.

Outside the canopy, the sound of waves gently lapping against the hull caused the boat to rock slightly.

Chen Qing set down his bowl and said with a solemn expression, "Mother, you heard about Aunt Cuihua's family, right? You must be careful too."

If anyone had the means, who wouldn't want to move into the Inner City for peace and security?

But the property prices in Gaolin County were such that even an ordinary residence in the Outer City cost anywhere from fifty to several hundred taels of silver. As for residences in the Inner City, they were symbols of status and position, utterly beyond the reach of ordinary commoners.

Even a seemingly ordinary shelter in the Outer City required one to exhaust a lifetime of savings, and even then, one might never attain it.

Ultimately, it was because their foundation was too thin.

***

The next day.

As usual, Chen Qing entered the Zhou Academy after his patrol.

The moment he entered the courtyard, he sensed an unusual atmosphere.

Several gazes swept over him indistinctly. The disciples were gathered in small clusters, and their whispering abruptly died down as he approached.

Though puzzled, Chen Qing remained calm on the surface and walked toward his usual training spot.

It was then he noticed that He Yan, who was usually diligent, was sitting alone on a stone stool in a corner. His face was as pale as if he had lost blood, and his eyes stared vacantly at the ground.

"Senior Brother He," Chen Qing walked over and called out softly.

He Yan slowly raised his head. A forced, strained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his voice was dry and raspy. "Junior Brother Chen, I failed my breakthrough."

Chen Qing's heart sank. He forced a smile and said, "Your vital energy has dissipated; you can just accumulate it again. You have a strong foundation, Senior Brother..."

Failing a breakthrough meant that the vital energy accumulated previously was mostly exhausted, requiring a complete restart.

"This time, it damaged my foundation," He Yan shook his head. "I might never have the chance again."

Chen Qing's throat tightened; the words of comfort were stuck in his chest.

Bright Strength, Dark Strength, and Transformation Strength—the three great realms of martial arts. Each was a hurdle, and some people could never leap over them in their entire lives.

For a disciple like He Yan, whose natural talent was not outstanding and whose family background was mediocre, reaching Bright Strength was already rare. To take the next step into Dark Strength was extremely difficult.

In the Zhou Academy, Bright Strength disciples were considered registered disciples, while only Dark Strength disciples were considered the core.

Over the next few days, He Yan continued to appear at the academy.

He had become exceptionally silent, no longer the He Yan who rose at dawn and rested only late at night. Most of the time, he simply sat under the old locust tree in the corner of the courtyard, staring blankly at the gray sky with eyes that were terrifyingly hollow.

Many fellow disciples watched this and shook their heads in sighs; most simply turned their faces away in numbness. Such scenes were not uncommon in the Zhou Academy.

"Naive!"

On the other side, Qin Lie watched all of this and sneered, "If 'heaven rewards the diligent' were actually true, the Zhou Academy would be crawling with Dark Strength experts by now."

His tone implied that he, Qin Lie, was different from "them."

Qin Qian agreed deeply, "In recent years, I have seen too many disciples like this. Martial arts, after all, is ultimately about talent."

Sun Shun opened his mouth, but in the end, it only turned into a heavy sigh; he said nothing.

***

That evening.

Chen Qing had just finished two rounds of boxing and was sitting on a long bench, catching his breath.

At that moment, He Yan walked over, carrying a bundle.

Seeing this, Chen Qing was slightly startled. "Are you leaving?"

He Yan nodded slightly, his voice somewhat raspy. "Yes. There's no point in staying."

Chen Qing pondered for a moment and asked in a low voice, "Senior Brother He, have you truly made up your mind?"

"I have," He Yan answered calmly.

His tone was light, as if he were recounting a trivial matter, yet his heart was like a churning, turbulent sea.

Chen Qing said nothing more.

He Yan let out a soft breath and looked into the distance. "For these past two years, I always believed that heaven rewards the diligent, and that I could change my fate through the martial examinations. So, I practiced desperately. Even when people looked down on me, I didn't care; instead, I used it as motivation."

He smiled, but only he knew the bitterness within that smile.

Chen Qing looked into He Yan's eyes; the glint of tears was being fiercely suppressed, yet it could not be entirely hidden.

"These years..." He Yan's voice was hoarse. "I always comforted myself that everything would get better. But what is the reality? Not only has it not gotten better, it has become worse and worse..."

He could no longer restrain himself. He lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly. "My dream is shattered. Completely shattered. After working so hard for so long, I still have nothing. Junior Brother Chen, do you know that feeling? Every day when you open your eyes, you see no hope. Everything above your head is black, without a single speck of light... That oppression, that despair, it makes it hard to breathe."

Disciples nearby noticed the commotion and cast their gazes toward them.

"Senior Brother He..." Chen Qing reached out and gently patted He Yan's shoulder.

In this world, how many people were not like this? They came carrying dreams, only to leave in dejection.

"To this day, I still don't understand what I was so obsessed with..." He Yan wiped the corners of his eyes. "Was it truly a desire to practice martial arts, or was it merely a desire to prove myself?"

He gave a bitter laugh. "Thinking back now, it wasn't that martial arts was useless; it was that I was useless."

He took a deep breath, stood up, and patted Chen Qing's shoulder. "I'm leaving. I won't be able to practice martial arts with you anymore. But you must persist. You absolutely cannot give up."

"Junior Brother Chen, I have always seen your diligence and hard work. Before you appeared, I never believed anyone in this world could work harder than me, until you came—living in poverty, eating nothing but coarse grains and beans every day, yet never slacking for a single day. I admire you from the bottom of my heart."

"I often think that if Heaven truly has eyes, it will never fail someone like you. Although I cannot be called a success—perhaps even a failure—I sincerely hope you can carve out a path for yourself. You are worth it."

"Senior Brother He..." Chen Qing's throat tightened.

"You must remember my words," He Yan said finally.

"Which words?"

"Any of them!"

With that, he packed his bundle and turned toward the back gate of the Zhou Academy.

His silhouette looked exceptionally thin in the morning light, like a falling leaf drifting silently into the distance.

The third day of the sixth month, the twenty-eighth year of the Shizong Era. It was a sunny day, but in Chen Qing's heart, a great rain was falling.

(End of Chapter)