Chapter 13: Chapter 12: Paying a Visit
Walking through the dark, narrow alleys of the slum, a foul stench hung heavy, a palpable miasma that made the air feel unnaturally thick.
The ground was a wet mire, and puddles of sewage reflected the bleak moonlight in shattered, distorted fragments.
The jagged, dilapidated planks and broken eaves of the buildings on either side leaned inward, forcing the two of them closer as they walked side by side, their sleeves occasionally brushing.
Chen Cheng and Hu Niu ambled along, making idle conversation about their childhood.
Chen Cheng had too much on his mind and was understandably distracted.
Hu Niu pursed her lips, her gaze flickering between Chen Cheng’s impassive profile and the endless darkness before them.
It seemed as though other words were caught in her throat.
But by the time they reached her home, the words that had tumbled in her heart the entire walk remained unspoken.
After bidding her farewell, Chen Cheng returned to his own house.
Even though the hour was late, he still assumed his stance. After briefly regulating his breath, he began to move through his Health Tai Chi, silent and fluid as water.
This had clearly become a daily necessity, one he hadn’t missed even on the night he killed a man.
...
Time slipped through his fingers like sand, and in the blink of an eye, a month had passed.
Two hearty meals of meat every day, morning and night, had drained Chen Cheng’s funds like water through a sieve. But they had also provided his long-suffering, depleted body with unprecedented nourishment.
His once skeletal frame was now covered in a lean but firm layer of muscle. The contours on his shoulders, back, and arms, though subtle, showed that all traces of his former frailty were gone.
Consequently, his progress in both of his martial arts had accelerated significantly.
[Hidden Dragon Fist]: Entry Level (298/300), Traits (None)
[Health Tai Chi]: Entry Level (297/300), Traits (None), Limit-Breaking (No)
In the corner of the yard, Chen Cheng could now lift the hundred-jin Stone Locks, one in each hand, with a steady motion, his breathing even.
And this weight was just his ’cool-down’ after practicing the Hidden Dragon Fist.
"Senior Brother Chen, it’s time for lunch."
Beside him, Qiao Qiao set down a two-hundred-jin Stone Lock and blinked, looking his way.
Her eyes were crystal clear, reflecting the sky’s light and, just as clearly, the sight of Chen Cheng training in silence.
In this period, the little girl’s Hidden Dragon Fist had progressed at a divine speed. Fatty Fang had little left to instruct her on, so he let her practice on her own.
Ever since Chen Cheng had earnestly guided her that one time, she had become his shadow.
Wherever he went, she went. Whatever he practiced, she practiced. She was like a quiet, persistent little tail.
"Mm, you go ahead."
Chen Cheng replied offhandedly and continued lifting the Stone Locks.
Qiao Qiao nodded obediently, pursed her lips, and trotted off toward the kitchen.
Also starting from that day, she would dish out his breakfast and lunch for him ahead of time, letting it cool to a pleasant warmth.
When he was done eating, she would rush to wash his bowl and chopsticks and put them away.
Chen Cheng had tried to refuse a couple of times, but he couldn’t dissuade her and slowly came to accept her help.
When Fatty Fang observed this, he immediately began to invest in the talented young girl, recognizing her pure Heart Nature and her grateful spirit.
Not only did he clean out the side room next to his own for Qiao Qiao to live in by herself,
but he also paid out of his own pocket to buy her new, well-fitting Training Attire and cloth shoes. He even occasionally gave her extra meat and nourishing Herbal Decoctions.
There wasn’t a disciple in the courtyard who wasn’t envious, but no one dared to voice any objections.
In Fatty Fang’s own words: This is how a genius is treated! If you’ve got a problem with it, step up and challenge her! Anyone who can beat Qiao Qiao gets the exact same treatment!
"Senior Brother Shi, let’s go eat."
Chen Cheng finished another set of twelve lifts before finally putting the Stone Locks down.
Not far off, Shi Lei finished his fist routine. With the same cynical smirk he always wore, he walked over to join Chen Cheng on the way to the kitchen.
Lately, Shi Lei’s appetite had exploded. His physique had bulked up considerably, the bulging muscles of his shoulders and arms straining the fabric of his old clothes.
But ever since that confrontation, his formerly big mouth had suddenly gone quiet.
Chen Cheng had asked about it twice, but both times Shi Lei had just laughed and changed the subject.
The only thing Chen Cheng knew for certain was that after that day, Ma Zhao was never seen again.
Shi Lei had also completely broken ties with Wang Han and his cronies, not exchanging a single word with them since.
"Senior Brother Chen, there’s someone looking for you. He says his surname is Zhang and that he’s been here before."
During a break after their meal, a disciple who had joined not long ago ran over to deliver a message.
"Mm, okay."
Chen Cheng nodded with a smile, then got up and walked over.
He pushed open the heavy wooden door to find Zhang Ping standing there. His eyes were shifty, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and he looked as though he had a terribly guilty conscience.
"Steward Zhang? What can I do for you?"
Chen Cheng asked, his face full of doubt.
"N-no, it’s not me..."
Zhang Ping sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze slowly shifting to the side.
A chill ran down Chen Cheng’s spine. He stepped over the threshold and saw a powerfully built, bearded man standing to one side of the courtyard gate. Behind him stood three other young men.
Chen Cheng recognized all four of them.
The three young men were Black Wolf Gang goons who lived in the same small courtyard as Lai Tou.
The bearded man was one of the Yongsheng Trading Company’s martial guards, Zhao Shan!
Zhao Shan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, saying nothing. His dark eyes bore into Chen Cheng, feeling like sharp daggers intent on piercing him through.
In that instant, Zhang Ping and the three goons were like quails with their necks squeezed, trembling and on the verge of suffocation.
It felt as if even the wind whistling through the alley had frozen in place.
Chen Cheng felt a mountain of pressure settle upon his heart.
In the past, he would have been scared stiff, paralyzed on the spot.
Now, however, he was able to keep his composure, his expression neither servile nor arrogant.
"Guard Zhao, you were looking for me?"
"You’re coming with me."
Zhao Shan spoke slowly, his deep, resonant voice laced with an unquestionable authority.
"Where are we going?"
Chen Cheng feigned confusion.
"Lord Zhao told you to come, so you come! Cut the crap!"
Behind Zhao Shan, a burly goon—tall as a horse and with a face full of brutish flesh—stepped forward, reaching out to grab Chen Cheng by the collar.
In his eyes, Chen Cheng had only been practicing for a month. At best, he was a little stronger than some mud-legged farmer.
He, on the other hand, had been a street tough for years. His brute strength was nothing to scoff at. Taking down Chen Cheng would be child’s play, wouldn’t it?
SWISH! CRACK!
But in the next instant...
Chen Cheng’s right hand shot out like a bolt of lightning. His fingers, curved into a claw, latched with unerring precision onto the man’s wrist, right over his pulse point.
’Dragon’s Tooth Nail!?’
Zhao Shan recognized it at a glance—a grappling move from the Hidden Dragon Fist.
The five fingers act like a dragon’s teeth, pinning the opponent’s joints, tendons, and vital points. It was nearly impossible to escape from, and even if you weren’t crippled, you’d be lucky to get away with your skin intact.
"ARGH..."
The burly goon let out a squeal like a stuck pig.
He could clearly feel it, as if several iron spikes had been driven into his wrist. Excruciating pain shot from his palm up his forearm, and a sickening crunch that set his teeth on edge echoed from his bones.
It felt as if... at any moment, Chen Cheng could simply snap his hand off at the wrist.
The Hidden Dragon Fist emphasized grappling locks first, followed by Hidden Strength.
The burly goon’s feeling was spot on.
With Chen Cheng’s current power, if he were ruthless enough to use Dragon’s Roar to channel the combined force of his organs and unleash his accumulated Hidden Strength, tearing the man’s hand clean off was not impossible!
Seeing this, the other two goons turned deathly pale and stumbled backward.
Zhang Ping fell flat on his rear and scrambled desperately to get away.
"Lord Zhao, help me... It’s... my hand, it’s broken..."
The burly goon struggled for a moment, but the pain made him dizzy and sent numbness through his body. He could only cry out to Zhao Shan for help.
Zhao Shan did not rush to intervene. He just stared coldly at Chen Cheng.
’Has this kid really only been training for a month?’
’That last move was precise, vicious, almost instinctual! That’s the kind of skill that should take years of painstaking practice to develop!’
A flicker of astonishment, so subtle it was almost invisible, crossed Zhao Shan’s deep-set eyes.
For some reason, he... couldn’t quite see through Chen Cheng.
"Kid, don’t make me get involved!"
Zhao Shan composed himself, his tone becoming icy and hard.
’So what if I can’t see through him? At the end of the day, I, Zhao Shan, am a true Martial Artist who has condensed One Pillar of Blood Qi!’
’As long as Chen Cheng hasn’t crossed that heavenly chasm, he’s no different from an ant in my eyes!’
"I’ll count to three..."
Zhao Shan took half a step forward, and the condensed Blood Qi in his body suddenly pulsed.
He was like a ferocious beast about to be unleashed from its cage. The very air around him grew heavy, suppressed by an unseen force.
"Junior Brother Chen, starting a fight without me? Are we even friends?"
A lazy drawl cut in abruptly.
Shi Lei sauntered out from the courtyard, rolling his shoulders. He leaned casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a roguish, carefree smirk on his face. His eyes, however, were locked onto Zhao Shan.
Almost simultaneously, the sound of light footsteps came from the other side.
Qiao Qiao had, at some point, silently moved to stand by Chen Cheng’s side. She said nothing, but had already slipped into the opening stance of the Hidden Dragon Fist.
"Heh."
Zhao Shan’s cold gaze swept over the lackadaisical young delinquent and the scrawny, sallow-haired girl. He was so incensed he actually let out a cold snort.
"Have you two even been weaned yet? Playing hero? You really don’t take me, Zhao Shan, seriously, do you!"
"Zhao Shan, is it?"
A stout, round figure appeared soundlessly from the shadows just inside the courtyard gate.
The moment his wide frame appeared, he seemed to fill the entire doorway, casting a shadow that nearly enveloped all three of them.
"And you are?"
Zhao Shan’s heart clenched. His tone instantly became more reserved, and he consciously reined in his aggressive aura.
"Marquis Fang Wenhao of the Dragon Mountain Middle Courtyard."
Those simple words, spoken without flair, landed like heavy stones in Zhao Shan’s heart.
His pupils contracted. He sucked in a sharp breath before quickly bowing his head, clasping his fist in a formal salute.
"So you are an esteemed disciple from the Dragon Mountain Hall Middle Courtyard! Forgive my disrespect, forgive my disrespect!"
After steadying his nerves, Zhao Shan hurriedly explained.
"This humble one is Zhao Shan. I came here uninvited today with no intention of disturbing the peace of your esteemed hall... It is only because Chen Cheng is suspected of murdering a beloved nephew of mine... This blood debt..."
"And your proof?"
Fatty Fang didn’t even bother to let him finish. He shifted his body forward, placing himself like a small mountain between Zhao Shan and Chen Cheng.
His frame was a full size larger than the already burly Zhao Shan. With heavy-lidded eyes, he looked down at the man, his fair, round face a mask of irritation.
"Pr-proof..."
"If you don’t have any, then get lost! Don’t make me do it myself!"
The fat on Fatty Fang’s face trembled, and his eyes instantly turned bone-chillingly cold.
"This... Sigh..."
Zhao Shan clenched his jaw, his chest heaving. In the end, he had no choice but to swallow all his frustration and rage.
Clasping his fist toward Fatty Fang once more, he practically squeezed a single word from between his gritted teeth.
"...Farewell!"
"What a joke. Go home and eat shit!"