When Chen Sanshi returned home, Gu Xinlan was sitting by the small table, carefully sewing clothes, one stitch at a time.
As soon as she saw him, she put everything down and hurried to greet him.
"I'm starving," he said simply.
Lan jie'er immediately went into the kitchen to start cooking, while Chen Sanshi sat down and opened the book he had borrowed from Xu Wencai.
The title read The Book of Great Sheng, a historical text recording major events since the founding of the Great Sheng Dynasty.
Before the Great Sheng, there had been a chaotic era much like the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms.
The founding emperor, Cao Xie, had been born a slave. Through sheer will and bloodshed, he carved out his destiny in that age of chaos, unifying the fractured land that had been divided for more than a hundred years.
What stood out most was that Cao Xie was also known as a Sword Saint.
Rumor had it that he could slay a man from ten li away with a flying sword, and that he once single-handedly broke through an army of two thousand three hundred.
"This already surpasses the boundaries of martial cultivation," Chen Sanshi muttered, flipping faster through the pages.
Sure enough, the founding emperor was regarded as the pinnacle of martial power—no one in the next three hundred years had ever reached such strength again.
Each emperor afterward sought to follow in his footsteps, yet none ever succeeded.
Then came the reign of Longqing Emperor, who gave up martial pursuit entirely and turned to Daoism.
He even sacrificed one-tenth of the nation's farmland to cultivate spiritual grain for offerings to the immortals.
"Could it be that Longqing Emperor really met an immortal?"
"Otherwise, why would a sane emperor surrender one-tenth of his tax revenue just to offer tribute?"
"He worshiped the so-called immortals, but the commoners were the ones paying the price."
[Skill: Reading (Minor Achievement)]
[Progress: (18/800)]
[Effect: Seven Orifices of Wisdom; Mental Clarity; Perfect Memory.]
Annoyed, Chen Sanshi snapped the book shut. The smell of freshly cooked food soon filled the air.
Half a pot of rice, stir-fried beef, salted duck eggs, and a bowl of fish soup.
He devoured it all like a storm sweeping the land, not leaving a single grain behind.
Once he had rested briefly and regained some strength, he went outside.
"Tonight, I have to finish all thirty-six stances of the foundation training!"
Under the pale moonlight, the small countryside house seemed almost serene.
Two silhouettes moved within and without—one outside, strong and focused, training beneath the frost-white moonlight; the other inside, graceful and quiet, sewing by the flickering candlelight.
"Hu—"
"Thirty-six stances—done!"
Chen Sanshi finally collapsed to the ground, completely drained.
With the foundational postures mastered, tomorrow he could begin learning spear techniques—and most importantly, the breathing method.
After eating the late-night meal Lan jie'er had left prepared, he rested a little before preparing to practice archery.
Gu Xinlan followed him out, her almond-shaped eyes filled with worry. "Do you have a death wish?" she scolded softly.
"Don't worry," Chen Sanshi said, smiling. "Archery isn't as exhausting as martial training. I know my limits."
He reached for his bow, but she grabbed his arm firmly.
"No more practice. If you don't care about your body, I do! We're not starving anymore—why work yourself to death? Come inside and sleep with me."
…
The next morning.
The misty dawn shimmered as sunlight broke through the fog.
Chen Sanshi woke early and went outside to train with his bow.
[Skill: Archery (Mastery)]
[Progress: (350/500)]
The two-stone bow was exhausting, but it helped him progress much faster.
All that sweat wasn't for nothing—he was satisfied.
Checking the time, he decided to leave for the barracks soon. But before heading out, he opened the chest and took out eight taels of silver.
"So damn expensive!" he muttered.
After food, clothing, and household expenses, he only had about twelve taels left. Spending eight at once nearly emptied his savings.
"Once things settle down, I'll have to start hunting again. Can't let that skill go to waste."
Pocketing the silver, Chen Sanshi put on his armor and stepped outside.
He hadn't gone far before someone called his name.
It was Zhao Qiao and Wu Da, running up from behind.
"Uncle Zhao?" Chen Sanshi asked, surprised. "What's going on?"
"We came to discuss something," Zhao Qiao said, glancing at his armor but not asking—clearly, he'd already heard.
"Yeah," Wu Da continued, "Shi ge'er, you've heard about the black bear in Tiger Head Mountain, right?"
Chen Sanshi nodded slightly.
He'd heard plenty about it—every year, hunters lost their lives to that beast.
"That monster killed again!" Zhao Qiao said through gritted teeth. "A few days ago, Sanlüzi from Stone Village went up the mountain and never came back. Last night, his father finally found him—only his head was left, the rest eaten by that black bear!"
"With so few animals to hunt lately, we figured we might as well take down that black bear," Zhao Qiao continued. "If we manage it, everyone can earn some silver to get through winter. But just the few of us won't be enough—you'll have to come too. When it's done, we'll split the money by effort. Whoever contributes more gets a bigger share."
"Hunting a bear…"
Chen Sanshi didn't reply immediately.
It was clear that the nearby hunters had all gone desperate—they were actually thinking of taking on a man-eating bear. With their ordinary hunting bows, it would be suicide.
He did have a heavy bow, but even so, it would still be risky.
"In a few days," Chen Sanshi finally agreed. After setting a tentative time with them, he left for the camp.
As soon as he arrived at the garrison, he found Zhu Tong swearing angrily.
"Eight taels of silver—are they robbing us blind?!"
Having joined the army, Zhu Tong naturally wanted to train hard and prove himself.
But the corruption within the garrison was beyond belief.
If you wanted to practice martial arts, you had to pay first. Who knew how many talented men they'd already scared off this way?
"This isn't even the worst of it," Xu Wencai said lazily. "You know why you and I weren't sent to hard labor after our troubles, and instead got shoved into the army? Because the higher-ups are being audited for ghost soldiers. They're short on headcount. If they don't take this chance to make some silver, they'd feel cheated."
"Shitou!" Zhu Tong called out cheerfully, using the name more familiarly now that they were friends. "Do you want to learn the breathing method? I can teach you! No joke—it really helps. Once you learn it, practicing the stances isn't half as tiring, and you'll improve much faster."
Xu Wencai immediately grabbed his sleeve. "Old Zhu, are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I appreciate the offer, Zhu bro," Chen Sanshi said with a polite shake of his head, "but I'd better not."
This Zhu Tong really had no sense of danger. If lower ranks were caught teaching techniques privately, how would the higher-ups make their money?
Looking around, Chen Sanshi noticed that at least five or six people had already learned the breathing method.
He wasn't going to be stingy either. After figuring out who to approach, he took his eight taels of silver and went to the Thousand-Household office to find Hundred-Household Liu.
The man glanced at him, asked for his name, then shook his head. "No time."
"Hundred-Household Zheng, would you—"
"I've got others to teach."
"Hundred-Household Zhang—"
"Not teaching."
"Hundred-Household Xiong—"
"I don't know it, damn it."
"…"
Chen Sanshi went from one Hundred-Household to the next, but not a single one was willing to instruct him.
The fee was the same, but every single one refused.
Something was off.
With suspicion in his heart, he decided to try one last time and stepped into another tent.
Inside, Hundred-Household Wang Zhi, who had demonstrated the spear techniques for them the day before, was reclining in a chair, lazily munching peanuts. Peanut shells littered the ground around his boots.
Chen Sanshi clasped his fists respectfully. "Greetings, Hundred-Household Wang."
Wang Zhi gave him a sideways glance, slowly sitting up. "What, you want to learn the breathing method?"
"Exactly," Chen Sanshi said earnestly. "I humbly ask Hundred-Household Wang for instruction."
"Alright, alright," Wang Zhi said, spitting out a peanut skin before stretching out a meaty hand and curling his fingers. "Let's see the money."
That easy?
Chen Sanshi was surprised. He'd nearly given up—he hadn't expected this one to agree so readily.
Could it be that the Hundred-Households had divided students among themselves in advance to spread out the profits?
Something didn't feel right… but he had no choice. If he wanted to learn, he'd have to pay.
Respectfully, he handed over the eight taels of silver and stood quietly, waiting for instruction.
"What are you just standing there for?" Wang Zhi grumbled, stuffing the silver straight into his robe and waving him off.
"My lord, what do you mean by this?" Chen Sanshi asked cautiously.
"I'm tired today," Wang Zhi said with a yawn. "Come back in a couple of days. I'll teach you then."
Chen Sanshi's heart sank with a heavy thud.