Free Web NovelChapter 42: Chapter 38: Imperial Guard
Late at night.
Because they had a mission early the next morning, the White Disciples who usually trained late into the night had all returned to their rooms to rest early.
Once again, only the figures of Chen Cheng and Lin Fengxiao remained in the training yard.
But to Chen Cheng’s surprise, Lin Fengxiao stopped his training first tonight and walked straight toward him.
"Junior Brother Chen..."
Lin Fengxiao stopped a few steps away. His lips, dry and cracked with bloody lines, twitched a few times as if he wanted to speak but hesitated.
"Senior Brother Lin, if you have something to say, please speak freely."
Chen Cheng’s fist techniques didn’t stop, nor did his rhythm falter. He responded softly, indicating that he didn’t mind the interruption.
"Actually... I... I should have come to ask for your guidance long ago..."
Lin Fengxiao’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his voice was incredibly hoarse.
"Not long ago, Junior Brother Qian Baolu mentioned that he found your form to be the most perfect he’s seen, that it even had a shadow of Master Ye’s... But when he watched my form, he always felt something was lacking."
"These past few days... I’ve been secretly paying attention myself, and it seems... that it’s true."
Lin Fengxiao took a small half-step forward, cupped his fist, and bowed. His tone carried a desperate sincerity, as if he were betting everything on this.
"I would like to ask Junior Brother Chen to help me see... where exactly my form is lacking. If you would be so generous as to offer your guidance... I will carve this kindness into my heart and never forget it, in this life or the next!"
Chen Cheng didn’t respond immediately. The wind from his fists continued to cut through the stagnant night air.
’Sacred knowledge is not shared lightly, and skills are not sold cheaply.’ He understood with perfect clarity. Even offering pointers from the sidelines involved creating a karmic bond; it wasn’t a favor one could ask for with just a few casual words.
The more easily something is given, the less it is cherished, and it might even lead to trouble.
His calm gaze swept over Lin Fengxiao’s extremely gaunt yet stone-taut face, and the dark fire in the depths of his black eyes that burned with near obsession.
His fist techniques never stopped.
A full hour later, Lin Fengxiao still held his initial posture, fist cupped and body bowed. His hands and back were visibly trembling, and the bluestone slab before him was soaked with his sweat.
Evidently, he understood and truly accepted the ironclad rule that skills are not shared lightly, that sacred knowledge is not sold cheaply.
He had no tangible benefits to offer in exchange, so he could only use the most clumsy method to display the purest sincerity.
"Senior Brother Lin, you may raise your head... Watch carefully."
Chen Cheng finally spoke. He drastically slowed his movements while lowering his voice to break down the techniques and offer guidance.
Hearing this, Lin Fengxiao snapped his head up. His murky eyes locked onto Chen Cheng’s form, and he pricked up his ears, unwilling to miss a single word.
"This move, the Dragon Scale Shirt, when you reach this point, your head must feel as if suspended by a thread. Tuck your chin slightly, as if holding a pearl... Your shoulders should be loose, like a willow shedding the wind..."
"And this technique, the Hidden Dragon Seal, looks simple and direct, but you must sink your qi like it’s entering the sea and generate power from your heels..."
Lin Fengxiao’s Comprehension was not poor to begin with. By listening to the words, observing the form, and comparing the two, he felt a sudden rush of enlightenment in just a few moments, a look of joyful surprise spreading across his face.
In the depths of his pool-like eyes, a cluster of light suddenly ignited—a light of realization, sharp and painful.
It was as if a long-shrouded fog had been abruptly pierced by a great sun, bathing his entire being in light.
If it weren’t the middle of the night, he would have truly wanted to shout at the top of his lungs to vent his excitement.
"Junior Brother Chen, this kindness... I..."
"Senior Brother Lin."
Before Lin Fengxiao could finish his words of gratitude, Chen Cheng cut him off calmly.
"I was just spouting some nonsense today. I’m not looking for anything in return... It’s just..."
Chen Cheng paused briefly, his tone growing a little heavier.
"In the future, if you get entangled in any trouble or cause any disaster... remember, do not mention me. Just pretend that you and I never had this encounter tonight."
"...Junior Brother Chen."
Lin Fengxiao was stunned for a moment, then nodded forcefully.
He knew better than anyone what burdens he carried. He could barely protect himself, let alone repay a debt. The only thing he could do now was maintain his distance and, no matter what, never implicate Chen Cheng.
He said no more. He simply clasped his hands, bowed deeply to Chen Cheng, and then quietly retreated to his original spot.
...
The next day at dawn, the light was bleak.
At one end of the long street, the murderous aura of a dense formation of men and horses had already begun to spread.
They were the Military Guard’s Imperial Cavalry from the South Outer City Patrol Headquarters. There were about a hundred horsemen, all dressed uniformly in profound-black attire and covered by half-body armor of dark red leather studded with iron plates. Ferocious beast patterns were embroidered in gold thread on their shoulders and chests.
Their warhorses were tall and magnificent, snorting as their iron-shod hooves struck the bluestone slabs, producing a crisp, heart-tightening rhythm.
It was said that a single one of these warhorses could be traded for a small, brick-and-tile courtyard home in the An Nan District.
At the front of the formation, several large banners with the character for "Patrol" in gold thread on a black background fluttered in the morning wind.
Beneath the banners were several men whose auras were exceptionally heavy. Though they didn’t deliberately radiate any pressure, their bearing—that of men long accustomed to high positions and holding the power of life and death—and the powerful Blood Qi faintly fluctuating around them were enough to make one’s scalp tingle and breath shorten even from a great distance.
These few were figures of true power, all holding official posts as Military Guard Officers.
Compared to them, the groups of disciples from the various Great Martial Arts Halls following behind immediately seemed to pale in comparison, looking almost uncomfortable.
Dragon Mountain Hall, Qinghe Hall, White Ape Hall... The banners of each hall were distinct, and their disciples were also dressed smartly, marching with vigor.
But no matter what, they couldn’t compare to the Imperial Guard from the Inspectorate Headquarters at the front—men who held official Military Merit and were part of the state’s exclusive machine of violence.
These Martial Arts Hall disciples were more like hyenas trailing beside a colossal beast. Though they too bared their fangs, their presence was dwarfed by more than a head.
Even the leaders of the groups, the elites among the elites of their respective halls, had reined in the arrogance they displayed on their own turf. Their expressions were deferential, and when they spoke with the Patrol Office’s lead officers, they didn’t even dare to stand up completely straight.
And in the eyes of the common folk who had been herded to the sides, possessing Military Merit or not was clearly a vast chasm separating heaven and earth, a complete difference in status.
In the distance.
Chen Cheng stood in the shadows of a side alley, silently watching the scene.
The cold morning wind brushed against his cheeks. He too could clearly feel that gap—not just in strength, but in the towering wall built from identity, power, and status.
Those Military Guards didn’t even need to speak. Their very presence defined the boundaries of order.
Chen Cheng clenched his fists, feeling the solid sense of power in his palms, but a shadow couldn’t help but fall over his eyes.
He had formed his second Pillar of Blood Qi, but it wasn’t enough. ’It’s far from enough!’
Chen Cheng had long since thought it through. To truly live like a person in this world, he had to keep getting stronger, keep climbing, keep struggling upward.
’Military Merit... I must fight for it, must grasp it in my palm!’
’What?’
Just then, Chen Cheng’s gaze swept near the rear of the large procession, and he spotted a familiar figure.
It was Chen Hao, who had joined the White Ape Hall long ago.
The White Ape Hall was nowhere near the scale of Dragon Mountain Hall. They had brought fewer than ten people this time, all of whom were likely proper Martial Artists.
It seemed Chen Hao must have already condensed his first Pillar of Blood Qi.
Chen Cheng’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes.
He had never forgotten the ten taels of reward money his father had traded his life for.
The reason he hadn’t gone to demand it was twofold: first, he was afraid his mother wouldn’t be able to handle the fallout if things blew up, and second, he knew that family couldn’t possibly produce ten taels of silver.
But things were different now.
His mother’s spirit and physical health were much better than before.
The crucial point was that Chen Hao had become a Martial Artist, which meant he now had a way to earn money.
Chen Cheng touched the few silver coins left in his robes and silently made up his mind.
’As soon as Chen Hao gets back, I’m going to settle the score with him!’
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