The tune ends.
The crowd disperses.
"Is it really this easy to earn money?"
Seeing the copper coins scattered all around, with some broken silver mixed in, Hua Lian'er beamed with joy as he gathered them up with a tattered cloth, his eyes shining.
Not long ago he couldn't even beg a steamed bun, and today, just standing in the cold wind and shouting a few times, the money came so easily, making him feel like he was in a dream, almost unable to believe it.
"I want to eat drumsticks, eat lotus seed porridge, eat bird's nest... And also, Seventh Brother's leg injury can finally be treated with medicine."
Thank you.
Still remembered to treat my leg.
Watching Hua Lian'er bustling around like a little chick searching for bugs in the grass, Chen Ping found it amusing.
Looking at the others.
Little Table and Little Stool, the two brothers, hugged each other, coughing and laughing at the same time, laughing until tears streamed down their cheeks.
The two brothers had sung the hardest earlier and hadn't had water to drink; their throats were dry as smoke, but they didn't feel sad at all, their eyes full of brightness.
Zuo Duanshou neither laughed nor cried, his face as blank as a dead fish, appearing three parts murderous, his whole body trembling lightly, his right hand already touching the short dagger hidden in his ragged clothes.
Following his gaze, among those reluctantly leaving pedestrians, a few not only didn't leave but came closer.
At the forefront was a refined middle-aged man with a smiling face and a slight trace of dampness at the corner of his eyes, resembling a scholar, with hands clasped in his sleeves, exuding an elegant demeanor.
However, Chen Ping noticed that as this person stepped, his gait was light and silent, like a civet cat walking on snow, with not a sound on the ground, and his whole body conveyed an indescribable harmony and naturalness.
'He's a master.'
After mastering the Eight Trigrams Fist, Chen Ping's vision further enhanced, seemingly able to see through the person's physique and posture, noting his strong muscles and bones, with Qi and blood boiling like fire.
To the naked eye, this person seemed like a thin and weak teacher, but internally, he sensed a white-tiger-like force.
And following this man, step by step, were two burly men, muscles strong, demeanor cold.
To the far left, there was also a big-bearded man with a swollen left face, whose gaze was full of malice, so much so that even the most insensitive could feel the evil intentions in his heart.
'The showdown has come.'
Chen Ping felt a slight chill in his heart, took a deep breath quietly, regulated his Qi and blood, and stepped forward first.
Though previously judged, once he performed the "Farewell" and earned money, becoming a "hen that lays golden eggs," he could roughly pass this hurdle.
But the human heart is unpredictable, and being prepared is essential.
Should anything go awry, it would be nothing more than a desperate strike, whether his body can endure full-force exertion aside; staying alive is the key to the future.
"You scoundrel, harming Boss Yat, yet still boldly staying here, you truly know no fear of death."
Big-Beard Zhang stepped forward first, pointing at Chen Ping and shouting.
Chen Ping chuckled softly, slightly cupping his hands: "Is the Incense Master here in person? My apologies, how shall I perish?"
Big-Beard Zhang was momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the title "Incense Master," and before he could regain his composure, he was kicked heavily on the buttocks, face-planting into the mud.
From his ear came the reprimand of another man, "With Incense Master Chang here, do you think it's your turn to speak?"
"Such bravery."
Chang Sansi slowly withdrew his hands from his sleeves, gently clapping a few times, dimples appearing on his smiling face, his eyes slightly squinting: "Give me one reason not to kill you."
As soon as he finished speaking, it felt as if a cold wind swept through the scene, causing Zuo Duanshou, Little Table and Little Stool, and Hua Lian'er to all stiffen, thinking that Seventh Brother's plan might be of no use and that a desperate fight was imminent.
However, Chen Ping showed no reaction and didn't take Chang Sansi's words seriously. He merely turned to Hua Lian'er and beckoned him over.
"Come here."
Hua Lian'er, with a bewildered face, holding a large bag full of silver and copper coins, came over looking at Chen Ping, unsure of what to say.
Chen Ping pointed at the bag of scattered silver coins, then turned and smiled: "I hear Incense Master Chang is worried about the monthly stipend. I, though lacking in talent, am willing to take on this task. Previously, Boss Yat was in charge of Qilin Street, and the collected stipends were apparently a bit low... if I were to be responsible for this, I am willing to offer one hundred and fifty taels of silver every month."
This was a figure Chen Ping proposed after careful consideration.
He had killed their capable subordinate, and to be spared by them, he needed to demonstrate his worth.
Otherwise, why would they spare him?
Just because he's handsome?
But offering too much wouldn't work either, as Boss Yat was collecting wherever possible, scraping by for protection money, and troubled even over one hundred taels of patterned silver, why should he earn more?
Of course, it's because he can sing and attract people to give money.
This is ability, this is value.
Chang Sansi's eyes flickered slightly, and he looked deeply at Chen Ping.
The person before him was young, dressed in tattered clothes, stained with dirt, yet mysteriously radiated a demeanor of dignity and elegance. His eyes were as bright as morning stars, making one forget worldly matters at first sight.
The most remarkable thing is, the other person is deeply knowledgeable about human nature. As soon as he spoke, he dispelled seventy to eighty percent of my murderous intent.
Not only is he quick to see an opportunity, but he accurately judges my character, fighting his way out of a certain death scenario.
Such a person has ended up becoming a beggar.
Chang Sansi felt a rare sense of absurdity rising in his heart, only feeling envy and jealousy surging, almost unable to resist striking the other with a palm.
Those in power are most afraid of others understanding their character, thus scheming against them.
Chang Sansi is certainly no exception.
"You've read books."
"I've studied for a few years..."
"Do you know who composed the previous songs and lyrics?"
"It's a long story, I once met a passing scholar who imparted a few songs and lyrics, it was truly fortunate." Chen Ping evasively replied. If he claimed the song was his own creation, it would underestimate people's intelligence.
Even if others believe it, it would lead to endless trouble.
Better to say nothing, respond casually, and let them guess the truth.
"A few songs..." Chang Sansi noted this and his smile became even brighter. "That's truly amazing, it's hard to imagine you remembering them so clearly. You even whimsically used bricks and tiles to create such a moving melody, truly impressive for the young."
As he spoke, his smile faded: "Not enough."
"What?"
"One hundred and fifty taels is not enough, need to add more money."
Chang Sansi's narrowed eyes flashed coldly, looking at Chen Ping, raising three fingers.
"Alright." Chen Ping gritted his teeth, slowly nodded: "By February 5th, I will definitely present three hundred taels of silver. If unable to, meet with my head."
At this moment, preserving life is crucial. No matter how much the other party makes it difficult, or how great his appetite is, it doesn't hurt to agree casually.
Chen Ping slowly lowered his head, concealing the sudden surge of murderous intent within.
"Very good, I hope you don't disappoint me."
Chang Sansi laughed heartily, reaching out to heavily pat Chen Ping's shoulder, still remembering to brush off the dust from his side sleeve, smiling as he turned his head, putting his hands back in his sleeves, leaving slowly with a swaying step.
A few people hurriedly followed behind him.
Chen Ping stood in place watching the group walk away, his expression calm.
Feeling the hidden but unyielding penetrating force that came from the other's pat just moments ago, vibrating through his muscles and innards, his eyes turned slightly cold.
This hurdle was passed, but not completely.
The final pat had some trick to it.
Some folk stories often mention this, some say it's "Dark Force," others "Yin Hand."
It does not harm the surface but injures the innards, the victim unknowingly urinates blood and dies within seven days, describing this kind of dark hand.
Such methods are truly malicious.
Generally, when Bone Forging is achieved, fist force is powerful, only able to fight head-on.
Upon reaching the Bone Strengthening level, Soft Power is developed... like a drawn bowstring, hidden with dark force, when exerted, carries an unparalleled penetrating power.
Able to break a tofu through a stone slab.
Chang Sansi casually exerted, transitioning from hardness to softness... seemingly without effort, actually damaging Chen Ping's vitals in an instant.
Of course, he possibly did not exert his full force.
Chen Ping's injuries are not particularly severe, just hardly noticeable to ordinary people.
After all, they still need him to earn silver, certainly won't let him die after seven days, very likely, this hidden injury can endure over a month, then observe the situation to deal with it.
The conversation between them never mentioned Boss Yat's death, the other seemed good-tempered, but Chen Ping knew, this person actually holds grudges, ruthless at heart.
However, Chang Sansi probably wouldn't have imagined that the soul within his relatively "fragile" body was actually that of an accomplished "old ghost" in fist technique.
The means of secretly applying Yin Hand, difficult for the unskilled, easy for the skilled.
Being a martial artist of the same level, such minor injuries certainly couldn't bother Chen Ping, only causing a laugh.