Night had fallen. It was the end of the month, and darkness enveloped the surroundings. The harsh winter wind blew relentlessly, its howl as mournful as a sob.
A few street patrol constables from the City Guard Department ambled along the main street.
Despite their thick, padded clothing, they still shivered uncontrollably. Their necks were pulled so deep into their collars they looked headless, and their hands, tucked deep into their sleeves and pressed to their chests, made them seem armless.
The dim, yellow glow of their lantern cast a row of long, eerie shadows across the street.
"This damn cold... patrolling at night is torture!"
"Sigh, tell me about it!"
"Let's finish this round and get back for some hot tea to warm our bones."
"On a day this cold, tea's got nothing on cuddling with your wife."
"That's true... Hehehe..."
...
Locust Tree Lane was just as dark and quiet.
The Chen Residence.
The bedroom windows were shut tight, not a sliver of light escaping.
Inside, a brazier glowed with charcoal in the corner. An oil lamp on the table cast a dim, yellow light. Plumes of steam rose from a wooden tub beside the bed, drifting away through the cracks in the roof tiles, creating a warm and peaceful atmosphere.
"Oof..." Chen Cheng let out a soft groan from within the wooden tub.
Beside the tub, Mu Xiaowan, who had been gently massaging his shoulders, immediately stopped. Her heart ached as she looked at his powerful, well-built shoulders, which were now slightly bruised.
"Brother Cheng, was I being too rough? Did I hurt you?"
Chen Cheng smiled gently. "It doesn't hurt. The pressure is just right."
After increasing the weight load, his Cultivation Progress with the Iron Armor Skill had accelerated.
But the negative side effects were also becoming apparent. Under the prolonged, heavy pressure, Chen Cheng's skin had begun to show signs of injury.
An ordinary Skin Grinding Realm Body Tempering Method required external forces. Practitioners would strike wooden posts or rub their skin with hard objects like iron sand. At the same time, they would stimulate their Qi Blood Power to nourish the body, forging the skin until it became increasingly tough and hard.
During this Cultivation process, the skin would naturally sustain damage. It was necessary to soak in a specific Body Tempering Herbal Decoction to heal the injuries. Only after the skin had recovered could one continue to cultivate, repeating the cycle over and over.
The Iron Armor Skill was an Inner Breath Technique focused on its Breathing Method, but it also incorporated a Weight-bearing Method to train the skin.
Previously, when Chen Cheng cultivated, he hadn't used much weight, so the effect on his skin was minimal and caused no major issues.
Now that he had increased the weight to fifty jin, the training effects were manifest, causing skin damage that required an Herbal Decoction for treatment.
But the Herbal Decoctions were expensive. Even the most common Body Tempering Herbal Decoction cost a few taels of silver, a price Chen Cheng simply couldn't afford.
He could only settle for the next best thing: soaking in hot water and getting a massage to relieve the stress on his skin.
Even though Brother Cheng said it didn't hurt, Mu Xiaowan still lessened the pressure, her movements becoming even more gentle.
She hadn't been doing odd jobs around town lately, so her once-rough hands had gradually grown soft and delicate. They felt supple and smooth, and as she worked, Chen Cheng found it so exceptionally comfortable that he couldn't help but let out another groan.
"Brother Cheng, does it still hurt? I'll be even gentler," Mu Xiaowan said, startled.
Chen Cheng gave an awkward laugh. "It doesn't hurt. It's just... with less pressure, it tickles."
"Hehe, in that case, I'd better press harder!" Mu Xiaowan gave a sly grin, but she didn't actually increase the pressure, continuing to knead gently.
Chen Cheng closed his eyes, savoring this rare moment of tranquility.
"Brother Cheng, why is there a rod in the tub?" Mu Xiaowan suddenly asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Chen Cheng quickly grabbed her hand and placed it on his back.
"That's not a rod, that's my arm."
"Ah... But aren't your arms resting on the edge of the tub?" Mu Xiaowan suddenly realized, and a crimson blush flashed across her pretty face.
"Right, right. I wasn't paying attention..."
After his hot bath, Chen Cheng stood up and got dressed. Suddenly, he heard a faint noise from the courtyard, and his brow furrowed.
"Xiaowan, you stay in here. I'm going to go boil some water for you so you can have a bath too. A hot bath in the winter will keep you warm."
"Okay," Mu Xiaowan replied with a sweet smile. Seeing how comfortable Brother Cheng had looked while soaking made her want to try it.
She reached out to test the water's temperature. "Brother Cheng, the water is still hot. Firewood is expensive, so don't light another fire. I can just wash in this."
"But..." Chen Cheng started to say that he had just bathed in it.
Mu Xiaowan giggled. "Brother Cheng, I give you a sponge bath every day. You're cleaner than any of the young ladies or new brides in the lane. This water isn't the least bit dirty."
"Alright, then. Take your time," Chen Cheng said, blowing out the oil lamp.
Mu Xiaowan thought Brother Cheng was just being considerate of her modesty, so she didn't think twice before taking off her clothes and slipping into the tub.
Chen Cheng stood by the door, listening intently for a moment. Then he grabbed a short wooden club from beside the door, quietly opened the door, slipped out with his body low, and gently closed it behind him.
The Constable's Saber belonged to the government. When he was relieved of his duties as a Prison Guard, the saber had been confiscated.
Outside, the night was pitch-black, without a single trace of light.
Only from the kitchen was there a faint glimmer of firelight, accompanied by soft, intermittent sounds.
'Thieves, just as I thought.'
Chen Cheng waited in a corner outside the bedroom door, gripping the short club tightly.
Before long, two figures carrying sacks emerged from the kitchen, tiptoeing toward the courtyard wall.
Without a word, Chen Cheng shot forward. Wielding the club like a saber, he brought it down on one of the thieves.
The thief was surprisingly alert. Hearing the whistle of air, he raised his Long Saber and slashed at Chen Cheng.
But Chen Cheng was much faster. His club slammed squarely into the thief's shoulder.
CRACK!
With the sound of breaking bone, the thief let out a muffled grunt of pain, his Long Saber clattering to the ground.
Seeing his accomplice injured, the second thief dropped his sack and charged Chen Cheng with his own blade. In the pitch-dark, Chen Cheng couldn't see clearly and, fearing a misstep, quickly dodged aside.
The thief was ferocious. After his first slash missed, he pressed his attack, unleashing his Saber Technique and aiming for Chen Cheng's vitals.
Chen Cheng didn't engage him head-on. Instead, he used his familiarity with his own courtyard to retreat and dodge. He was extremely fast, always maintaining a two-meter distance from the thief.
After a flurry of attacks, the thief hadn't managed to touch so much as a hair on Chen Cheng's head and was growing frantic.
"Brother Cheng, what's happening?"
Mu Xiaowan called out, having heard the commotion.
Chen Cheng quickly shouted back, "We have intruders! Stay quiet!"
He shouldn't have shouted. The moment he did, the thief abandoned him and charged for the bedroom door.
"You're courting death!" Chen Cheng roared, fiercely hurling the short club.
The thief hadn't anticipated such a move. Hearing the whistle of air, he tried to dodge, but it was too late. The flying club struck him squarely on the back of the head, and he collapsed to the ground.
Fearing the man wasn't dead, Chen Cheng rushed forward, snatched up the fallen Long Saber, and decapitated him with a single slash.
"Brother Cheng..." Mu Xiaowan called out, her voice filled with anxiety.
"There were thieves! Keep the door locked and don't come out!" Chen Cheng answered. He turned to find the other thief, but the courtyard was empty. There was no sign of anyone.
"Ah Cheng, what's going on?"
Torches flared to life outside the courtyard gate as Wang Laoshu shouted from beyond the wall.
Immediately, hearing the commotion, neighbors began to emerge from their homes, and the alley was soon lit up by torchlight.
The common folk might fear local thugs and gangsters during the day, but they loathed nighttime thieves with a passion. At the slightest sign of trouble, they would rush to help one another.
Their families were already so poor they could barely put food on the table. A visit or two from thieves could mean the difference between life and death by starvation.
This was the survival code of the poor, a custom forged from necessity.
Chen Cheng vaulted onto the wall and saw Wang Laoshu and his son, along with a crowd of residents from Locust Tree Lane, gathered at his gate armed with torches, clubs, and wood-chopping axes.
"Uncle Wang, we had burglars. Did you see them?"
Wang Laoshu reported, "I just saw someone run out of the lane."
"I see," Chen Cheng said. He leaped back down into the courtyard, told Mu Xiaowan to stay inside, and only then did he open the main gate.