Novelink Chapter 15: Encounter with Wen San
Chapter 15: Encounter with Wen San
With his vitality condensed into a pillar, Xiangzi felt his strength surge.One stormy night, under a sky heavy with dark clouds, he sneaked into the courtyard to test his power. A single kick against a thigh-thick locust tree snapped it clean in half.
Xiangzi froze in shock.
Thankfully, the raging wind and rain had toppled several trees that night, covering his tracks.
From then on, he swore off testing his leg strength on trees.
The same went for martial prowess.
If word got out, who knew if envy might breed malice?
Especially since South City buzzed with rumors that Fat Master from Ma Liu’s yard, humiliated by Xiangzi, had put a thirty-silver-dollar bounty on his leg.
Though a month had passed, Xiangzi stayed vigilant, training stances in the morning, fists and feet in the afternoon, never straying from Harmony Rickshaw Yard.
His stance work had reached minor mastery, and his and were coming along:
Perhaps his natural aptitude for pulling rickshaws—a —made his legwork progress faster than his fists.
At minor mastery, his could unleash three kicks in midair, each splintering a three-inch-thick board.
In his past life, he’d be a .
But these were incomplete, common techniques, capped at minor mastery. Advancing further required true skills from a martial hall.
Yet, in this world, martial halls had sky-high barriers.
Take Baolin Martial Hall: Uncle Jie said even an unnamed disciple slot cost nearly two hundred silver dollars.
Even so, Forty-Nine City’s youths flocked to them.
Without a referral, though, even with money, you couldn’t cross their threshold.
Wasn’t Uncle Jie proof? He’d broken the vitality barrier young but was repeatedly turned away, still lingering outside ninth-rank at his age.
It was Thursday, with no afternoon plans. By rule, guards had free time.
Xiangzi carefully tied thirty silver dollars into a cloth sack, tucked it into his coarse jacket’s lining, and left the east building.
He needed to visit the shop Liu Tang recommended and buy a dose of vitality broth to test its effects.
Just outside the east building’s gate, a familiar face swaggered up.
“” Wen San, in a long gown with a towel over his shoulder, grinned broadly.
“” Xiangzi clasped his fists.
That “Brother San” sent a thrill through Wen San. He slung an arm around Xiangzi’s shoulder. “”
He shook his pocket, silver dollars jingling.
Xiangzi paused, then smiled. “”
Wen San panicked, glancing around, urging, “”
Outside the east building was the second-class pullers’ yard.
As they spoke, a few familiar pullers passed by, spotting Xiangzi and clasping fists, calling out “” nonstop.
Since Xiangzi moved from the second-class yard to the east building, the pullers had waited for him to crash and burn.
Those guards were all vitality barrier breakers!
Yet a month later, no jokes materialized.
Instead, Xiangzi, the , had firmly planted his feet in the east building.
Though no word of him awakening vitality, even the haughtiest guards gave him thumbs-up.
Rumor was, even Master Tang sparred with him.
The only ranked martial artist in Harmony!
Xiangzi could trade blows with him?
His reputation soared in the second-class yard.
Wen San, especially, basked in it.
Whenever Xiangzi came up, he bragged, “”
That, of course, drew plenty of jeers.
Some scoffed, “”
Wen San fumed but couldn’t argue back, so he lingered by the east building’s gate after work each day.
Today, he’d finally caught Xiangzi.
Time to show off.
But truth be told, Wen San was nervous.
His bond with Xiangzi was thin. Now that Xiangzi thrived in the east building, trusted by Fourth Master and called “,” what if he brushed him off?
The second-class pullers nearby watched, eager for a spectacle.
Wen San’s anxiety grew. Drooping his eyelids, he muttered, “”
Seeing Wen San’s pleading look and the pullers’ expressions, Xiangzi guessed their thoughts.
After a moment, he laughed freely, clasping his fists. “”
Wen San was a braggart and a bit slippery, but his heart wasn’t bad.
When Xiangzi first crossed over, Wen San’s small acts of help had been real.
At those words, Wen San beamed, his eyes slanting at the pullers, neck craned skyward.
Grinning smugly, he led Xiangzi out.
But before reaching the teahouse, Xiangzi stopped, smiling. “”
Using Master Tang’s name, Wen San, though reckless, wasn’t dumb. He got the hint.
His face flushed, and he chuckled awkwardly. “”
He knew Xiangzi had given him face earlier.
Xiangzi smiled, patting his shoulder. “”
Wen San froze, looking up. Xiangzi’s earnest words held no jest.
Only then did he realize—
Wen San’s eyes warmed, but before he could speak, Xiangzi said, “”
Wen San blinked, then nodded firmly. “”
“”
“”
Xiangzi smiled, said no more, and turned to leave.
Watching his back, Wen San sniffled, his heart a tangle of emotions.
In all his years, no one had ever taken him so seriously.