chsdbacks Chapter 3: The Power of the Ox!
Chapter 3: The Power of the Ox!
"Mountain Stance Training emphasizes a body as steadfast as a mountain and a form resembling a standing pine tree!"
A booming voice echoed across the training ground. The young man, in his early twenties, was as broad as a mountain, his bulging muscles almost bursting at the seams of his loose gray training clothes. His gaze, sharp as lightning, swept over the fifty or so apprentices before him, their postures crooked and their sweat pouring down their faces.
"From now on, you must practice standing meditation for one hour every morning, no more, no less! Those with good physique, supplemented by other methods, can break through to the Skin Tempering Realm within a year and become true martial artists!"
"With a medicinal bath to nourish the body, one can stay up for an extra hour at night, and the progress will naturally be faster."
Zhang Ping gritted his teeth, his kneecaps felt like they were about to crack, and his thigh muscles burned with pain. Sweat trickled down his temples and into his collar, bringing a tingling sensation. All he could hear were heavy breathing and suppressed groans.
"Hiss... This damn stake, it's not fit for a human to stand on!" Li Fan, standing beside him, hissed and grimaced, but his eyes darted towards Zhang Ping. "Brother Zhang, not bad! I didn't realize you could stand on this stake more steadily than them?"
Zhang Ping managed a weak smile. He was only able to stand steadily because of the first month after he transmigrated. Back then, without the "Donkey Whip Beast Mark" enhancement, he diligently did squats and horse stances every day to avoid this body showing weakness in bed.
Sweat trickled into the corner of his eye, and he blinked. "Born this way... Brother Li, why hasn't the headmaster shown up? Is it all the senior brother teaching?"
At the Sitong Martial Arts School, the apprentices who paid to enter didn't stand on ceremony and weren't allowed to call each other "brothers." The only exception was the eldest disciple, Wang Dashan. As the school master's personal disciple, he taught on behalf of his master, holding a superior position. The other apprentices all fawned over him, respectfully addressing him as "eldest brother."
Li Fan shifted slightly, relaxing his tense shoulders and back, and lowered his voice: "Master? He's gone on a mission and won't be back for at least a month." He had arrived two months earlier than Zhang Ping, so he was better informed.
But this guy is never short of money. For the past two months, he's been sneaking out to have fun, and hasn't even gotten close to mastering the basics of the Mountain Stance. His twisted logic is: isn't the point of martial arts training to improve health? If you drain your body and then train again, you'll recover even more effectively—a huge win!
"Escort services?" Zhang Ping was taken aback, his brows furrowing slightly. Martial arts schools do this kind of business?
Seeing the confusion on his face, Li Fan chuckled, a hint of superiority in his voice that said, "Brother Zhang, you don't actually think those trade routes are wide open for anyone to come and go as they please, do you?" He leaned closer, lowering his voice even further.
"Heh heh, without a few martial arts experts escorting them, would those merchants dare leave Lingchuan County? They'd probably be robbed clean, along with their goods, before they even left the city, or fed to some demons!"
"Besides," Li Fan clicked his tongue, even he, who always said he was "not short of money," couldn't help but show envy in his eyes at this moment, "escorting goods, although it is time-consuming and risky, can easily earn several thousand or even tens of thousands of taels of silver per trip! That's an amount that an ordinary family could not save up in several lifetimes! A caravan that can get the head of the guild to personally take charge, tsk tsk... it's probably worth more than 100,000 taels."
Towards the end, his tone was tinged with self-deprecation. He was well-off, but compared to a martial arts school, he was far from wealthy.
Zhang Ping listened silently, his mind churning. Escorting goods... martial artists... silver... the threads of this world seemed to become clearer before his eyes.
As soon as the signal to finish the stance training rang out, the training ground was instantly filled with people collapsing to the ground. Zhang Ping looked as if he had just been pulled out of the water, his clothes clinging tightly to his body. As for Li Fan, he had long since vanished without a trace.
Dragging his leaden legs, he returned to his lodgings. The Sitong Martial Arts School occupied a large area. In addition to the training ground, the school master and his personal disciples had separate courtyards, while apprentices like Zhang Ping were crammed into several rows of small courtyards, four people to a room.
Zhang Ping was lucky; the small courtyard he was assigned was newly built, and he was the only one living there for the time being. But he knew that these peaceful days wouldn't last long.
After washing away the stickiness from his clothes with a bucket of well water, Zhang Ping carefully tucked away the remaining 146 taels of silver he had on him and left the martial arts school alone. The school's drab apprentice uniform, though drab, at least offered a semblance of protection.
The town center of Lingchuan County was bustling with people. Zhang Ping wandered around several lively streets and alleys for most of the day, finally catching a faint, fishy smell. Following the scent, he found himself on a street that sold meat.
"Finally found it!" He breathed a sigh of relief. Although martial artists exist in this world, and killing cattle is not against the law, that applies only to martial artists. For ordinary people, cattle are extremely valuable tools for plowing the fields, and they are rarely slaughtered unless they are old, weak, sick, or disabled.
"Shopkeeper, give me a pound of beef," Zhang Ping said, pointing to the dark red brisket on the stall. "This piece."
"Alright!" The stall owner deftly cut the knife.
The heavy beef felt cool and smooth in his hand. Zhang Ping didn't rush to leave, silently chanting in his mind: Beast Mark, Power.
The next moment, a screen of light, invisible to others, appeared in his field of vision:
[Ordinary Ox] [Power]
[Bull-like Beast Pattern: Slightly enhances physical strength, covering the entire body.]
[Materials needed: 10 catties of beef, bamboo-joint stone, obsidian, blood ring grass, yam, and white fleeceflower root.]
It takes ten kilograms of beef to brand a bull with a powerful beast pattern?
Zhang Ping frowned. Last time, when branding a donkey whip beast pattern, one donkey whip was enough. This ox strength pattern actually requires ten pounds? It seems that the amount of "catalyst" needed for a beast pattern is closely related to the direction it is being strengthened—the requirements for overall strength and localized functions are indeed vastly different.
But perhaps the ability to brand also has an impact.
Suppressing the pain in his wallet, he bought another nine jin (approximately 4.5 catties). He wrapped it in oil paper and stuffed it into a thick cloth bag he had prepared. The bulging package was quite heavy once it was on his shoulder. He turned and headed towards the medicine street, deliberately squeezing into the crowds along the way. His dusty apprentice uniform made the people around him subconsciously make way for him.
This suit of clothing is somewhat useful in front of ordinary people.
Bamboo-joint stone, obsidian, yam, and white fleeceflower root.
These four items were common; he managed to gather them after visiting several pharmacies, spending forty taels of silver. The clattering of the shopkeeper's abacus seemed to strike his heart. Only the Blood Ring Grass remained a problem. Zhang Ping asked every herbal medicine shop on the street, but the shopkeepers either shook their heads or said they were out of stock.
As the sun approached noon, my stomach began to rumble in protest.
"The pharmacies are all out of stock, this is a real problem..." Zhang Ping stood at the street corner, the midday sun making him dizzy. The street was still bustling, with vendors' cries filling the air.
Zhang Ping's heart suddenly skipped a beat, and he turned around sharply—not far behind him, a man squatting in front of a wild vegetable stall quickly looked away.
"Sent by the An family? Or are they pickpockets?" Zhang Ping's heart sank, and his face turned grim.
I didn't expect to be targeted so quickly. Carrying this heavy bundle on my back—ten pounds of beef and a bunch of medicinal herbs—I attracted many greedy glances along the way. Even the soldiers loitering on the street gleamed with menacing eyes, their fingers rubbing the hilts of their knives. Fortunately, my apprentice uniform acted as a talisman, preventing them from making a move for the time being.
Unable to shake off his pursuer, Zhang Ping could only quicken his pace and buy everything he needed to return to the martial arts school as soon as possible for his safety.
"The herbal medicine shops don't have any... Herb gatherers from outside the city often ship their goods in the east of the city... or... the exorcism bureau near the government office?" Zhang Ping quickly calculated. The quality of the herbs on that street in the east of the city was rough, but you could occasionally get lucky.
As for the Demon Extermination Bureau... it's an organization of the Great Wei Dynasty to suppress demons. They also do business in medicinal herbs, but not much; they're mostly sold privately by demon exterminators.
Feeling the gaze from behind like a thorn in his back, Zhang Ping no longer hesitated and walked straight towards the Demon Extermination Bureau. Carrying a heavy load and being followed by a tail to the chaotic east of the city? That would be suicide! He might as well gamble on the Demon Extermination Bureau.
The Demon Exorcism Bureau was located diagonally opposite the county government office, its two heavy, black-lacquered doors exuding a menacing aura. Zhang Ping had just stood at the doorway, and before he could even examine the ferocious beast-head carvings on the lintel, a sharp shout rang in his ears:
"What are you doing!"
The soldier guarding the gate placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist.
Zhang Ping's heart skipped a beat. He quickly stepped forward, put on a respectful expression, and cupped his hands, saying, "Sir, please calm down. I've come to the Demon Extermination Division to buy some medicinal herbs. I would be grateful if you could do me a favor."
As he spoke, his fingers twitched slightly, and two silver ingots slipped silently into the gap between the soldier's outstretched palm.