Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

After a brief wait, a boy with an unfamiliar face pulled the door open a crack.

”I’m looking for Senior Brother Fang,” Chen Cheng said.

The boy froze for a moment, then whispered, ”Senior Brother Fang... he’s furious right now. Maybe you should come back later?”

”Who is it!?”

Sure enough, Fatty Fang’s trademark roar erupted from inside, thick with undisguised anger, making the boy at the door flinch.

”Senior Brother Fang, it’s me,” Chen Cheng replied.

It was quiet behind the door for a moment.

Then, a thick, fleshy hand as large as a cattail fan simply shoved the boy aside.

The wooden door swung wide open.

Fatty Fang’s massive, mountain-like frame immediately squeezed through the doorway.

”Junior Brother Cheng! It really is you!”

His pale, round face immediately broke into a warm smile, his eyes disappearing into slits in his chubby cheeks.

Seeing this, the boy standing nearby was stunned.

In the half-month he’d been at the Lower Courtyard, he’d suffered plenty of Fatty Fang’s beatings and curses, but he had never seen the man laugh so happily... Just moments before, Fatty Fang had still been thundering with rage.

At this thought, the boy couldn’t help but glance at Chen Cheng again, his eyes filled with not just curiosity, but a great deal of cautious awe.

’Anyone who can make King Fang’s expression change in an instant is no ordinary person!’

”What are you staring at? Get back to your Pile Skill! If you still can’t get it right, I’ll whip you myself!”

Fatty Fang barked at the boy, then turned back to Chen Cheng, his face breaking into a cheerful smile again.

”Junior Brother Cheng! I’ve heard all about it! You sly dog, quietly forming your second Pillar of Blood Qi! I tell you, I was shocked when I got the news!”

”It was just a stroke of luck.”

Chen Cheng smiled and offered an explanation.

”A Lord Chief from the Inspectorate examined me today. He said it was just good luck—my body had a sudden breakthrough, and that was that.”

”Success is success! Who cares how it happened? So what if it was luck? Luck has always been a part of strength! There’s plenty in this world that defies logic...”

Fatty Fang pursed his lips, sounding rather wistful.

”Take that girl, Qiao Qiao. Her Root Bone, her Comprehension—aren’t they both top-notch? Yesterday was her third attempt to break through, and she failed again...”

”But that bastard Shi Lei, whose Root Bone and Comprehension are barely above average... heh, he broke through on his first try! If that’s not good luck, what is?”

As he spoke, Fatty Fang shook his head with a soft sigh. His voice held a note of pity for Qiao Qiao, but it was overshadowed by a sense of helplessness at the unpredictable nature of Martial Arts.

”Come on in, we can talk properly,” Fatty Fang said, stepping aside to let Chen Cheng pass.

”Some other time. The caravan is back in town today, and I need to get to the trading company to help out.”

As Chen Cheng spoke, he pulled a small, prepared cloth pouch from his robes and held it out.

”There are ten taels of silver in here. Senior Brother, you can count it...”

”Take it back, take it back!”

Before Chen Cheng could finish, Fatty Fang had already interrupted him.

”I’ll be honest with you. The hall gives me a reward for you forming your second Pillar of Blood Qi... and it’s more than ten taels!”

”Oh? They do that?”

Chen Cheng was momentarily surprised. ’So that’s why Fatty Fang was willing to invest in Qiao Qiao. And when he saw I showed some promise, he was quick to lend a hand.’

’While it was a little unexpected, Chen Cheng didn’t see anything wrong with it.’

’Fatty Fang was a Tutor in the Lower Courtyard. Selecting and cultivating talent could be considered part of his duties.’

’If he did his job well, he would naturally be rewarded by the hall.’

’He was a shrewd man. Investing in a few promising prospects ahead of time benefited both himself and the students. There was nothing wrong with that!’

”Senior Brother, let’s keep things separate!”

Chen Cheng said, his expression turning serious.

”What the hall gives you is a reward. What I owe you is a debt of gratitude! If I ignored my conscience and didn’t repay you, what kind of person would that make me?”

”Heh! I knew I wasn’t wrong about you!”

Fatty Fang raised an eyebrow, his expression turning serious as well.

”Junior Brother Cheng, for saying that, I’ll have a real heart-to-heart with you.”

”Right now, the most important thing for you is to forge the third Pillar of Blood Qi!”

Fatty Fang said solemnly.

”This is the turning point for every Martial Artist. If you can cross this threshold and enter the Inner Hall, then you’ve truly gotten your foot in the door for the Martial Selection! If you can’t, you’ll never have a chance at the Martial Selection in your life! Your entire future will be set in stone.”

Fatty Fang paused, his voice taking on a more sincere tone.

”Take this silver back. Use it to buy Herbal Decoctions or Fierce Beast Essence Meat, it doesn’t matter. The point is, you must do everything you can to strengthen your body...”

”At the end of the day, your Innate Root Bone is lacking. But since your physique has this unusual advantage, you have to do whatever it takes to push that advantage to its absolute limit!”

”This... might be your only chance...”

At this, Fatty Fang paused again, lowering his voice to a near-whisper.

”If you succeed, I’ll get an even bigger reward! Who knows, if Master Ye is pleased, he might even let me return to the Inner Hall!”

”When that day comes, you, my boy, will be the benefactor of me, Marquis Fang Wenhao! Then it will be my turn to repay you!”

”...In that case, I’ll do as you say, Senior Brother.”

Chen Cheng nodded silently and took back the small cloth pouch.

’He knew Fatty Fang had a point.’

’But he was also well aware that even though he’d just come into a huge windfall and had a stable income from the trading company, meaning he didn’t need these ten taels of silver, insisting on repaying the debt immediately would make it seem like he had too much money on hand and arouse suspicion.’

’Never reveal your wealth.’

’Even from Fatty Fang or his mother from the Li Family, what needed to be hidden must be kept completely secret!’

’It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them; there was simply no need for them to know.’

’It’s better to be safe than sorry. If they accidentally let something slip and a person with ulterior motives noticed the clues, an endless stream of trouble would surely follow.’

’In this world, in these times... hiding the truth was, in fact, a way of protecting them.’

...

「On the street in front of the Yongsheng Trading Company’s warehouse.」

A coarse, gritty smell filled the air—a mixture of dust, the heat rising from the horses, and the biting wind of the distant lands.

Dozens of pack horses, their coats dull and foam from exhaustion crusting their muzzles, were being herded by a dozen or so Horsemen to line up and be unloaded into the warehouse.

The term Horseman referred to the caravan’s horse handlers.

Each was responsible for a ’Horse Tail’—a string of three to five horses.

While on the road with the caravan, driving the horses, loading and unloading cargo, performing basic veterinary care, shoeing the horses, and mending saddles—it was all part of their job.

Only after returning to the trading company could they relax a little, as the work of unloading cargo into the warehouse was handled by porters.

Chen Cheng had already arrived and was now personally overseeing the inventorying of goods into the warehouse and the settling of accounts.

The caravan had brought back a sizable haul from the Northern Lands this trip.

On both sides of each horse’s pack frame, goods piled up like small mountains were firmly tied down.

About twenty porters worked without pause, carrying bundles of herbs from the Northern Lands and carefully crated animal pelts.

In the distance, Big Pot Head Zhao Hai stood in the sun. He looked to be in his fifties, his face weathered dark, ruddy, and coarse like old tree bark by the sand and wind of the Northern Lands, but his eyes were startlingly bright.

His eyes kept drifting toward Chen Cheng, and every so often, he would bark curses at the porters.

”Careful with that crate of pelts! Even the scraps are worth more than you worthless curs!”