My Martial Dao Has No Bottlenecks

Chapter 19: Chapter 19: Returning Home

On the journey back.

The Martial Arts Hall contingent was in high spirits.

Li Cheng sidled up to Liang Cheng. "Junior Brother Liang, an A-Class Ministerial Decree! I heard not even Master has one!"

Although Zhou Hu’s face was pale, he also smiled. "It’s more than just fame. You’re without a doubt the number one of the younger generation in Linhai Town."

The group chatted and laughed, but Zhao Yuan lay silently on a stretcher. His chest was wrapped in thick bandages, and as he stared at Liang Cheng’s back, his fingers tightened and then relaxed.

’Eight months ago, Liang Cheng was just a poor boy from a Fisherman’s Family in the front courtyard, his Root Bone damaged, while I was already a disciple of the rear courtyard.’

’Now, Liang Cheng has achieved Great Success in Dark Force, taken first place in the Three Towns Grand Competition, and even the City Lord’s Mansion has extended an olive branch.’

’And me?’

’Seriously injured in the competition, my foundation will take half a year to heal.’

’On the Martial Dao, one step behind means you’re always a step behind.’

Zhao Yuan pressed his lips together tightly. A flash of resentment crossed his eyes before finally turning into dejection.

...

In the rear courtyard of the Martial Arts Hall.

Yang Wei had Liang Cheng stay behind alone.

"Keep the Ministerial Decree safe," Yang Wei said with a serious expression. "The City Lord’s Mansion is a place of deep waters, but with this status, ordinary people won’t dare to touch you, and Wu Tianxiong will have to restrain himself, at least openly."

"This disciple understands."

"Your Hard Skill... it’s the Stone Armor Skill, isn’t it?"

Liang Cheng’s heart skipped a beat. "It is."

"I knew it," Yang Wei sighed. "That Cultivation Technique is incomplete. Once you reach the later stages, there’s no path forward unless you find the missing parts. But remember, with External Hard Skills, the greatest taboo is having a weak foundation. The Mixed Element Stance is your cornerstone; you must never neglect it."

"This disciple will remember."

Yang Wei took out a money pouch. "The reward silver is five hundred taels. You take two hundred, Zhao Yuan and Zhou Hu each get one hundred, and the Martial Arts Hall will keep one hundred. Any objections?"

Liang Cheng accepted the pouch. "I will abide by Master’s arrangement."

"Go on," Yang Wei waved his hand. "The grand competition is over, and the new year is approaching. You can go home and rest for a few days. The path of the Martial Dao also requires a balance of tension and relaxation."

Liang Cheng bowed and withdrew.

Back in his room in the West Wing, he closed the door and took out the Profound Iron Token.

The Token was cool to the touch.

He knew that from this day forward, he was no longer the boy from a Fisherman’s Family who could hide in the shadows and cultivate in peace.

’Just as I thought when I first transmigrated here, only through martial arts can I control my own destiny!’

...

At the crack of dawn, Liang Cheng left the Martial Arts Hall with a small bundle on his back, careful not to wake anyone.

Inside the bundle were two hundred taels of silver—one hundred in broken silver and a silver banknote for one hundred—and the Profound Iron Token, all carefully wrapped in old cloth and hidden close to his body.

Unexpectedly, Zhou Hu was waiting for him at the gate. "You really don’t need me to see you off?"

"It’s just a short walk," Liang Cheng said, shaking his head. "Senior Brother, your injuries haven’t healed yet. You should get more rest."

Zhou Hu clapped him on the shoulder. "We have a half-month break for the new year. Come back to the hall on the sixteenth day of the first lunar month. If anything urgent comes up during that time, you can always come to the Martial Arts Hall."

Liang Cheng nodded and turned, disappearing into the morning mist.

The street outside the Martial Arts Hall was quiet. Early-rising vendors were setting up their stalls. Some people recognized him, pausing their work to stare blankly. Only after Liang Cheng had walked some distance did they begin to whisper among themselves:

"That’s Liang Cheng..."

"I heard he got a Ministerial Decree from the City Lord’s Mansion..."

"Tsk, only sixteen. How incredible..."

Liang Cheng heard it all but didn’t slow his pace. He knew that from now on, there would be no shortage of such gazes.

When Liang Cheng reached the docks in his old neighborhood, the unloading area was a hive of activity.

A few men from the Sea Snake Gang were shouting orders at the laborers. The one in charge was the scar-faced leader, Chen San, but the one standing beside him with hands on his hips, shouting the loudest, was Big Head.

"Stack those boxes neatly over there! Can’t you see they’re crooked?" Big Head’s voice was booming. The blue short clothes of the Sea Snake Gang he wore were clearly new, well-fitted and crisp.

A short baton hung from his waist, and he walked with his back ramrod straight. He was like a completely different person from the one who had stood with his head bowed, taking a scolding in the front courtyard of the Martial Arts Hall a month ago.

When Chen San saw Liang Cheng, he quickly jogged over to greet him. "Master Liang! What brings you here in person?"

His cry silenced the entire unloading area.

Big Head turned, and upon seeing Liang Cheng, he froze for a moment before a smile spread across his face as he walked over. "Brother Cheng! You’re back?"

Liang Cheng looked at Big Head. The timidity and anxiety that once marked his face were gone, replaced by the slick demeanor of a man of the martial world.

The short baton at his waist was hung in a particular way, a habit of those who had practiced martial arts.

"Leader Chen," Liang Cheng first nodded to Chen San before turning his gaze to Big Head. "You’re doing well for yourself."

Big Head grinned. "Thanks to you, Brother Cheng! When the gang leader heard we were childhood friends, he had me start learning the ropes from Leader Chen. Now I’m in charge of the loading and unloading schedules for three warehouses at the docks. I make one tael and five maces of silver a month!"

He spoke with his chin slightly raised, a hint of showing off in his tone.

Chen San chimed in with a sycophantic smile. "Brother Big Head is sharp. Having trained at the Martial Arts Hall really makes a difference. He’s strong and has a good eye."

Liang Cheng grunted in acknowledgment. "Is your family’s debt paid off?"

"Paid it off long ago!" Big Head patted the bulging money pouch at his waist. "Not only did I pay off the debt, I even bought my mom a new jacket..."

"Good," Liang Cheng cut him off. "I just got home. I’m heading off now."

"Take care, Brother Cheng!" Big Head shouted after him. "If you’re free tonight, Er Gou, San Ya, and I will come find you for a drink!"

"Alright."

Liang Cheng didn’t break his stride.

As he walked out of the dock area, he could still hear Big Head’s bellowing voice: "What are you all standing around for? Get to work! If this shipment isn’t loaded before noon, I’m cutting your pay by half!"

There was a ruthlessness in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

Big Head had changed.

...

Turning the street corner, Liang Cheng saw his family’s noodle shop in the distance.

The door boards hadn’t been taken down yet, which meant Lady Ning had probably just woken up. Liang Cheng walked to the entrance and raised his hand to knock, but then he paused.

He looked down at the plain blue uniform of the Martial Arts Hall he was wearing. The fabric was ordinary, but it was clean and well-starched. Then, he felt the silver banknote in his chest pocket.

Eight months ago, he had lain at this very doorstep, covered in blood, while his mother cried and begged for a doctor. Eight months later, he returned with two hundred taels of silver in his pocket, as the number one of Linhai Town’s younger generation.

It was like a dream.

CREAK—

The door suddenly opened.

Lady Ning was holding a basin of water, about to throw it out, when she saw Liang Cheng. Her hand trembled, and half the water spilled.

"Cheng’er?" Her eyes instantly reddened. "Why are you back? Did something happen at the Martial Arts Hall...?"

"Mom, I’m fine," Liang Cheng stepped forward and took the basin from her. "The grand competition is over. Master told me to come home for the new year and rest for half a month."

Lady Ning pulled him close, looking him up and down. Seeing he had no injuries, she finally let out a sigh of relief. "The grand competition? Did you win?"

"I won."

"What place?"

"First."

Lady Ning’s hand trembled, and tears streamed down her face. "Good... good..."

"Mom, here are twenty taels of silver. Please take them."

It wasn’t that Liang Cheng didn’t want to give more, but he still had to return to the Martial Arts Hall. Giving her too much money wasn’t necessarily a good thing; flaunting wealth could attract unwanted attention.

Lady Ning stared at the twenty taels of silver on the table, stunned for a long time.

"So much..." her voice quivered. "How many years would it take to earn this..."

"There will be more in the future," Liang Cheng said, holding his mother’s rough hand. "Mom, our family won’t be short on money anymore. You don’t have to work so hard."

Lady Ning wiped her face and suddenly stood up. "You sit. Mom will cook you some noodles."

"Mom, I’m not hungry..."

"Sit!" Lady Ning said, leaving no room for argument, and turned to enter the kitchen.

Liang Cheng sat at the table, listening to the sounds from the kitchen: the striking of a flint, the ladling of water into a pot, the rolling of a rolling pin.

Returning home, his heart was at peace.