Lying Low in the Martial World to Become a Saint-Chapter 83 - 79: Old Friends

Several days passed, and the commotion from the Cyan Scale Association gradually died down.

Meanwhile, the Gaolin Commerce Association was thriving.

Before long, the end of the year was approaching.

Chen Family Courtyard.

Chen Qing stood in the courtyard, practicing his Long Arm Fist. His movements were as fluid as flowing water and moving clouds. His Power traveled seamlessly from shoulder to elbow, wrist to finger, each joint a soft conduit without a hint of stiffness or hesitation.

His arms maintained a strange "softness," as if they weren’t made of flesh and bone, but were leather whips filled with mercury.

Initially, his movements seemed almost "sluggish." But as his arm reached its apex, right at the moment it was about to descend and explode with force, the unyielding strength hidden beneath extreme softness burst forth.

CRACK!

A sharp crack echoed out, like the tip of a whip splitting the air.

The sound was short and focused, not from the impact of muscles, but the sonic boom of Power piercing the air over an extremely short distance at incredible speed.

Beneath his clothes, his shoulder blades slid like live fish, and his spine undulated like a great dragon. Every joint in his body seemed to have become a precision pivot, circulating power between hard and soft, contraction and release.

The occasional sharp crack of displaced air revealed the terrifying Penetration Power hidden within.

After finishing a set of the fist technique, Chen Qing slowly relaxed his stance and stood still.

His expression was normal, his breathing steady and deep.

A golden light appeared in his mind.

[Heaven Rewards Diligence, Success is Assured]

[Long Arm Fist: Perfection (1/5000)]

’My Fist Technique has reached the Perfection Realm. With my current strength, if I faced Qu Yaohui again, I could beat him in less than ten moves. I shouldn’t be much weaker than Shi Wenshan, who is at Great Success in Transmutation Force Realm. And if my Fishing Toad Force reaches the Third Realm, my victory would be absolutely certain,’ Chen Qing thought to himself.

’My Long Arm Pile Skill and Fist Technique are both at Perfection, and my Fishing Toad Force is in the Second Realm. My strength shouldn’t be far off from a master at Great Success in Transmutation Force Realm.’

’But it’s still not a sure thing.’

Ms. Han came out of the kitchen and asked, "Ah Qing, the Dragon King Temple is collecting donations today. Are you going?"

"I’ll go take a look."

Chen Qing agreed. After quickly tidying himself up and changing his clothes, he left the courtyard and headed toward Mute Bay.

He couldn’t be more familiar with this place. Just over a year ago, he was a poor boy who ate chaff and wild greens. Now, as he walked over the frozen mud, the frost flowers crushed under his heels felt like half a lifetime being ground away.

The wind at Mute Bay, carrying the salty tang of the sea, rushed toward him, making the banners in front of the Old Dragon King Temple snap and flutter.

In previous years, there would only be a dozen or so scattered fishing families in front of the temple at this time. This year, however, it was jam-packed.

From a distance, Chen Qing saw the chipped, eight-sided table and a Merit Box.

Just then, Liang Badou was shouting at the top of his lungs, announcing the names: "Grandpa Zhang, five cash! A charitable family will have blessings to spare!"

"Master Chen, you’re here."

Liang Badou had sharp eyes. Spotting Chen Qing, he rushed over to greet him, bending his waist so low it almost touched the ground.

Chen Qing took a small cloth pouch from his robes and handed it to Liang Badou.

Liang Badou untied the pouch, glanced inside, and his eyes instantly went wide. His voice trembled slightly as he announced:

"Chen Qing, Master Chen! Ten whole taels of patterned silver!"

"Ten taels?!"

"Good heavens!"

"Ten taels of silver?! How many fish would you have to catch for that?"

"He’s a master who passed the Martial Arts Examination, after all. He’s in a different league..."

The crowd exploded into an uproar.

Ten taels of silver! To most of the fishermen, who relied on the heavens for their food and barely scraped by, this amount was simply astronomical.

Liang Badou put the silver away, quickly found a seat for Chen Qing, and poured him a cup of tea.

Just then, a man and a woman pushed through the crowd and approached, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

The woman was Erya. She wore a faded but clean, flower-patterned cotton jacket. She shot a quick glance at Chen Qing before hurriedly lowering her head.

As she raised a hand, seemingly to smooth a stray lock of hair at her temple, her wide sleeve slipped down slightly, revealing an ugly, bluish-purple bruise on her wrist.

The man next to her looked a few years older than Erya. His skin was dark and rough, and he was dressed in the simple attire of a laborer.

His face was plastered with a sycophantic smile. He was half-bowed at the waist, nervously wringing his hands. "Ma... Master Chen! This humble one is Zhao Si, Erya’s husband. I do manual labor over at Lotus Bay. I’ve long heard Erya talk about you, saying you’re a man of incredible ability."

As he spoke, he jabbed Erya hard in the arm with his elbow. The force of it made her stumble, a flash of pain crossing her face as she buried her head even lower. "...G-Good day, Master Chen."

Chen Qing glanced at Zhao Si, his brow furrowing slightly.

When that gaze swept over him, Zhao Si’s heart leaped into his throat. The smile on his face stiffened, and he bowed even lower. "Master Chen, you see, this girl Erya is clumsy with her words and her hands. Please don’t take offense. You’re a great success now, donating so much silver... truly the heart of a Bodhisattva! If you have any work, just give the word to this humble one. I’ve got plenty of strength, and I guarantee I’ll handle it for you perfectly..."

He chattered on, his eyes filled with a fawning desire.

"Mm."

Chen Qing finally responded, his gaze falling on Zhao Si’s face. "Being strong is a good thing."

Zhao Si froze, unsure if this was a compliment or a criticism. He could only nod with a dry laugh. "Yes, yes, I rely on my strength to eat..."

Chen Qing took a sip of tea and set the cup down. His movements were unhurried, yet they carried an invisible pressure.

His gaze seemed to unintentionally sweep over the bruise on Erya’s wrist before returning to Zhao Si. His tone remained as placid and unreadable as before:

"Strength, when used in the right way, is for supporting a family. It’s the foundation of a man’s life."

"When used in the wrong way, for example... to injure the hands that cook for your own family, or the walls that shelter you from wind and rain... then it becomes the root of disaster."

Chen Qing’s tone was still mild, but every word struck Zhao Si’s heart like a hammer.

Zhao Si’s face instantly turned ashen white. His lips trembled uncontrollably, and beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down his forehead.

"M-Master Chen... I’ll definitely take good care of Erya! I would never dare to let her suffer any grievance!"

He was incoherent. Other than instinctively bowing and nodding frantically, his body trembled like a leaf in the autumn wind.

Erya, whose eyes had been downcast the whole time, glanced at Chen Qing’s calm face, and a look of profound, genuine gratitude emerged from the depths of her eyes.

Seeing this, Liang Badou instantly understood the situation and quickly gestured for Zhao Si and his wife to step back.

Zhao Si repeatedly answered, "Yes, yes, yes," then pulled Erya into a deep bow toward Chen Qing before finally retreating to the edge of the crowd.

Chen Qing asked, "What about Xiaochun?"

Liang Badou’s expression dimmed slightly. He lowered his voice, "After Xiaochun was arrested, he suffered terribly. He went through a lot. Those people couldn’t squeeze anything out of him, but later, they somehow found out he had a connection to you and finally let him go."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "Not long ago... someone picked him up, I don’t know who. He hasn’t been seen since."

Chen Qing fell silent. He picked up the coarse tea on the table, took a sip, and didn’t ask any more questions.

"And Li Hu?"

Chen Qing set down his teacup, his gaze drifting to the gray, hazy sky outside the temple gate. "Any news?"

Liang Badou shook his head and sighed. "All contact with Li Hu was lost a long time ago. No one in Mute Bay knows where he went, or whether he’s alive or dead... There’s not a single reliable word."

Chen Qing nodded. He suddenly felt that this bustling Dragon King Temple was even more desolate than before.

Liang Badou kept his body half-bowed, his head lowered.

"I have other matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave."

After a moment of silence, Chen Qing stood up and patted Liang Badou on the shoulder. Ignoring the various gazes from the crowd, he walked straight out of the Dragon King Temple.

By the shores of Mute Bay, a cold wind swirled, sweeping through the withered, yellow reed marsh and tearing loose clouds of grayish-white fluff.

Snow began to fall, drifting down like goose feathers.

The affairs of the world are like the tide, their gatherings and partings ever-changing.

The same time, the same place, but the faces that had once gathered in the reeds were now scattered and gone.

No matter how close friends once were, once their lives no longer intersect, they find they have less and less to say to one another.

Even if they were to reunite, they could probably only talk about the old days.

...