Chinese Superman

Chapter 167 The Ring of the Old Man (7K Long Chapter)

Li Yaozong stood there with a dark expression, his chest rising and falling slightly.

At this moment, several male classmates who usually fawned over him came up to him with fawning smiles on their faces.

"Young Master Li, why bother? You're just offering your warm welcome to someone who won't even look at you." A tall, thin boy sneered. "Qiao Chunxia's only assets are a pretty face and a good figure. What else does she have?"

"Exactly," another short, chubby boy chimed in, his tone dismissive. "Pretty girls might have been able to make a living with their looks in the old, peaceful times, but this is the era of martial arts! Strength is paramount! Without strength, no matter how pretty you are, you're just an embellishment, and might even bring trouble upon yourself."

The third boy's eyes darted around, and he pulled out his phone, presenting it to Li Yaozong like a treasure: "Young Master Li, if you like pretty girls, how about I introduce you to my sister? She's also a senior in high school, a humanities student, and not bad looking, right? The key is—she's obedient!"

On the screen is a girl with heavy makeup and a cigarette between her fingers.

Li Yaozong glanced at it casually and scoffed, "Girls with rouge and rouge. Why would I even look at them?"

The boy asked her to take her phone back, but he wasn't angry.

They knew perfectly well that for a spoiled brat like Li Yaozong, who came from a wealthy family and considered himself superior, the more attractive a girl like Qiao Chunxia was to him—someone who was indifferent to him and difficult to win over—the more attractive she was. This was related to a distorted sense of "conquest."

The tall, thin boy looked around, lowered his voice, and a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes: "Young Master Li, how about we... take it easy?" In the Martial Arts Era, although there are laws, as long as you're clean-cut, with your family connections...

"Shut up!"

Li Yaozong glanced at them coldly and sneered, "Fool! Do you think this is a lawless, chaotic world? Don't forget, during the most dangerous period of the Great Cataclysm, our Xia Kingdom didn't experience any major chaos. The country's control is much stronger than you imagine! Now that order has been fully restored, do you think the Armed Forces Department is just a pushover?"

"A little fight, a lesson taught alike, as long as nothing serious happens, the family can manage. Using force? Do you want to put me in jail and ruin my future?!"

The tall, thin man shrank back after being scolded, not daring to say another word.

At this moment, the short, chubby boy chuckled, leaned closer, and lowered his voice considerably: "Young Master Li, you're right, China is indeed a society governed by the rule of law. But—there are always some places that are lawless zones."

"A lawless place?"

Upon hearing this, Li Yaozong's eyes suddenly lit up.

"A lawless land is good."

Qiao Chunxia walked briskly through the still somewhat noisy school square and walked out of the gate of Ancheng No. 2 Middle School.

The world outside the door is a different kind of noise.

On the bustling streets of Ancheng, all sorts of advertisements and promotional materials are everywhere.

"【Baicaoge】Spring Mega Sale! Directly supplied Xiantian Dan from Zhongnan Mountain!" Helping you solidify your foundation and strive for the Great Xiantian realm!

"Qi and Blood Pills, of the highest quality! Are you still worried about falling behind others in the Transcendent Realm? Are you still struggling to strengthen your body? Buy Qi and Blood Pills now! Buy ten and get one free!"

"Don't miss out! Special offers on Body Tempering Pills, Mind Calming Pills, and Enlightenment Pills! Member points can be redeemed for a Level B martial arts observation opportunity!"

Outside each antique-style medicine shop, holographic projections are playing advertisements for GG.

"【Dragon Soaring Martial Arts Academy】Ancheng Main Branch has hired three Grandmasters to oversee the program! We are offering an intensive course in "Level A Martial Arts: Breaking Army Fist Technique"! Limited spots available, first come, first served! Inquiries: ————"

The martial arts school's signboard was even more eye-catching than the old-fashioned cram schools, and students were shouting and practicing routines at the entrance, with a faint gust of wind blowing in the air.

Even somewhere on the street, a space was slightly distorted, and a dark green vortex about two meters in diameter appeared out of thin air, rotating silently.

Pedestrians around simply quickened their pace to walk around it, or glanced at it curiously; there was no panic.

Soon, a black van bearing the logo of the "Urban Disaster Emergency Management Agency" sped over.

Several uniformed staff members, whose breathing was not weak, quickly got out of the car, skillfully set up a cordon, and took out instruments to start testing and stabilizing the space.

"Another dungeon portal — I wonder what kind of dungeon it will be inside."

"I remember that for a period of time before the Great Cataclysm, the [Portal] could only exit, not enter. If the dungeon was set in our city, monsters would rush out from inside."

"That's right, my pancake stand was burned down by a few salamanders, but I killed them with a frying pan."

"No wonder she's called the Pancake Beauty, she's amazing!"

"Hey, times have changed. Dungeons have been flipped, and instances are now set in another world. Monsters can no longer come to Earth and wreak havoc; it's our turn to storm into another world."

"You've really got me excited. I'm even tempted to become an adventurer and go into the dungeon to kill monsters."

39

Hearing the whispers of passersby, Qiao Chunxia kept her eyes straight ahead, walked straight across the bustling street, and turned into a relatively quiet side street.

Her destination was not home.

She stopped in front of a white van parked on the side of the road with the words "Renxin Group Blood Collection Point" printed on it.

Qiao Chunxia walked up.

The interior of the car was not large, and it was decorated like a small clinic. A young woman dressed as a nurse, but who was clearly also a practitioner, was organizing records.

In the past decade of nationwide martial arts training, the number of "martial arts illiterate" people has been decreasing.

Even the elderly women and men passing by could be cultivators at the Qi Refining Realm.

"Hello, blood donation."

Qiao Chunxia spoke calmly as she took out two slightly worn booklets from her schoolbag.

Student ID and donation certificate.

The nurse took the ID, swiped it on the machine, glanced at the screen, and immediately frowned: "Qiao Chunxia, ​​a senior high school student at Ancheng No. 2 High School, currently registered cultivation level—Transcendent Realm, Level 3? Your last blood donation was three days ago, 800 ml of standard spiritual energy blood. According to regulations, Transcendent Realm cultivators should donate blood at least every seven days, and it is recommended that each donation not exceed 500 ml to avoid damaging their foundation and affecting their cultivation level."

She looked up at the pretty young woman before her, frowning, and said, "With your frequent excessive blood donations, your life force will continue to be depleted. Your progress in the Transcendent Realm might truly stagnate, or even regress. The official 'Regulations on Medical Security and Resource Mutual Assistance for Cultivators' clearly provides guidance on this—"

"You are not an official blood donation vehicle."

Qiao Chunxia interrupted her, her voice completely flat: "Your Renxin Group is a private enterprise. Using the blood rich in spiritual energy from cultivators at the Transcendent Realm as a guide, combined with specific spiritual herbs, you can refine basic pills like 'Qi and Blood Pills' and 'Yuan Replenishing Pills,' reducing costs by at least 30%, while also improving the yield and stability of the medicine. Currently, Qi and Blood Pills are a hard currency for cultivation, and demand far exceeds supply. You large corporations would love to have more blood sources like me," wouldn't you say?"

The nurse was speechless for a moment, a hint of embarrassment and helplessness flashing across her face.

What Qiao Chunxia said is, to some extent, a semi-public "secret" within the industry.

Replacing some of the elixirs with the blood of qualified cultivators is indeed one of the methods used by many elixir companies to control costs and increase production.

Although there are official guidelines, under the premise of "voluntary" and "paid" collection, supervision cannot completely eliminate this behavior, especially at some unofficial collection points.

"You—sigh."

The nurse sighed, shook her head, and softened her tone, "No matter how bad your family's financial situation is, you shouldn't mortgage your future like this."

"You're a senior high school student majoring in martial arts, and the college entrance exam isn't far off. Drawing blood like this every day will drain your body. How can you talk about cultivation or taking the exam then?"

Qiao Chunxia remained silent, offering no reply. She simply rolled up her school uniform sleeves to her elbows, revealing a section of her fair arm, and calmly placed it on the blood collection table.

Her arms were very thin, unlike those of a cultivator. Her skin was also very white, almost translucent, with faint blue veins clearly visible.

Looking into her clear and determined eyes, the nurse knew that further persuasion would be useless.

"I couldn't persuade you. I guess the colleague who drew your blood before tried to persuade you too."

"Since that's the case, there's nothing more to say. I've done my job."

She skillfully took out a disposable blood collection needle.

Open the package, puncture, and draw blood.

Dark red blood slowly flowed through the tube into a special blood storage bag.

Qiao Chunxia could feel that as her blood was being lost, her vitality was waning, and her spiritual essence was gradually becoming thinner. A sense of emptiness and weakness, originating from the depths of her bone marrow, was quietly spreading.

She pursed her lips, and her face seemed to turn even paler.

Blood drawing requires blood production, which means refining the new blood.

The Transcendent Realm emphasizes nourishment and endurance, but Qiao Chunxia's approach is simply self-destructive.

But there was nothing she could do; she was short of money!

Cultivation costs money, schooling costs money, money is needed in every aspect, and the official subsidies are far from enough.

The 800 ml mark was reached quickly.

The nurse pulled out the needle.

Usually, you just use a cotton swab to press it down.

However, the nurse took out a cute little bear bandage from the drawer and stuck it on Qiao Chunxia's arm, quickly stopping the bleeding and healing it.

"Cash or bank transfer?" the nurse asked routinely as she placed the blood bag into the incubator.

"QR code for receiving payments." Qiao Chunxia's voice was somewhat low.

With a "beep," her phone received a transfer notification.

The amount wasn't small; it was enough for an average family's expenses for half a month. But for her, it was just part of maintaining a certain necessity.

Putting away her phone, Qiao Chunxia pulled down her sleeve, thanked him, turned around and got out of the car, her steps slightly unsteady than when she arrived.

Instead of going home, she went to Ancheng Second Hospital.

Inpatient department, a regular ward.

It still smells like disinfectant.

A woman was lying on the hospital bed by the window.

Her face was peaceful, her breathing steady, and her complexion sickly pale, making her appear as if she were asleep. The electrocardiogram monitor, EEG monitor, and other equipment beside the bed displayed normal vital signs.

But she has been lying there, motionless, for a full ten years.

Qiao Chunxia's mother, ten years ago, on the "Night of the Great Cataclysm," was attacked by a strange creature while protecting her young daughter in the midst of the chaos, and has been in a coma ever since.

The hospital diagnosed her with "deep unconsciousness," similar to a vegetative state, but her brain activity did not stop; in fact, it remained active, and the waveform was completely consistent with that of a healthy person, as if she were living in another world.

However, that world was a dream, an incredibly realistic dream.

In that dream, Qiao Chunxia's mother ate and drank normally, slept normally, and lived an ordinary and happy life with her family.

"Mom, I'm here."

Qiao Chunxia's voice rang out in the ward, becoming much softer.

She put down her schoolbag, walked to the window, and opened it a crack. The chilly spring breeze, carrying fresh air, blew in and stirred the plain-colored curtains.

She sat down on the chair by the bed, took her mother's warm but unconsciously gripping hand, as if she had removed a mask of pretense, and began to tell her story in a soft, gentle voice, just as she always did.

"Nothing special happened at school today — a few people were missing from the martial arts class again, I wonder if they went to tutoring or went into seclusion to break through — Li Yaozong blocked my way again, annoying — but it's okay, I dodged him."

97

"Mom, you also think Li Yaozong is annoying, right? Let's not mention him anymore."

"The guys on the street are getting more and more outrageous, like they'll become grandmasters tomorrow after taking their elixirs—"

"And there's martial arts at the martial arts school, with the [Martial God Hall], where you can learn martial arts for free. Who would want to go to a martial arts school? They really have too much money to burn."

"I donated blood again—it was a bit tiring, but I got the money. It should be enough for this month's hospital fees, caregiver fees, and IV fluid costs."

Her voice was soft as she spoke of mundane daily life, her plans, her uncertainty about the future, and that lingering hope that refused to fade.

The other patients and their families in the ward were already used to this, only occasionally casting pitying glances their way.

"Mom, can you hear my voice? If you can, move your finger."

As she spoke, Qiao Chunxia grasped her mother's hand with one hand, their fingers interlocked, feeling the icy coldness that had no warmth at all.

She desperately hoped that the cold hand would suddenly move slightly.

Even just a moment————

"6

Qiao Chunxia leaned her upper body against her mother, burying her face in the blankets filled with disinfectant.

after awhile.

Qiao Chunxia raised her head.

No one knew she had cried, except under the covers.

She bent down and gently kissed her mother's forehead, then straightened up, her eyes regaining their resolve.

"Mom, I have to go now. I have things to do today, so I'm a bit short on time and can't massage your hands and legs. You should get some rest." She paused, lowering her voice even further. "I will definitely save up enough magic cores to exchange for that [Zhuangzi's Dream of a Butterfly] at the [Martial God Temple]! Then, I can enter your dream world and personally pull you out of that damned [Dream Demon]! I promise!!"

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, took one last look at her mother's peaceful sleeping face, and turned to leave the ward.

The door closed gently.

The ward was quiet for a moment, then hushed conversations began.

"Oh, what a good girl, so pitiful—"

"I heard that her mother's accident happened ten years ago that night, and she's been like this ever since."

"It's a tragedy, the daughter is even thinner than her mother who is in a vegetative state."

"Her father suffered a terrible fate too. I heard he was an adventurer who went to explore a dungeon three years ago, but he died inside and never came out again, not even his body was ever found."

"Now she's the only one supporting the family, her mother is lying here, and every day it costs money!"

"That's right, how can that little bit of compensation and relief be enough? Judging from her expression, she's probably put herself through a lot of trouble."

"Why----"

Amidst the chatter, no one noticed that a butterfly had somehow flown in through the ward window.

The butterfly's wings are a dreamy, star-like blue, so light they seem to have no substance.

No, to be precise, it has no physical form and cannot be seen with the naked eye.

It lingered on the window frame for a moment, its wings fluttering slightly, as if "listening" to the sounds inside, or perhaps sensing something.

Then, it gently flapped its wings, slipped through the not-quite-closed window crack, and flew out silently, fluttering away in the direction Qiao Chunxia had left.

Qiao Chunxia returned to her residence in an old resettlement housing community in the west of the city.

This is one of the resettlement houses built by the government after the great destruction ten years ago. The conditions are simple, but at least there is a place to shelter from the wind and rain.

As soon as I opened the door, a cool, refreshing scent wafted out.

The room was small and simply furnished, but it was kept exceptionally tidy.

She first went to a small altar in the living room.

On the table sat a black and white framed photo of her father, a middle-aged man with a bright smile and resolute eyes.

In front of the picture frame, there were still unburnt incense ash in the incense burner.

Qiao Chunxia skillfully took out three incense sticks, lit them, respectfully inserted them into the incense burner, put her hands together, and stood silently for a moment.

Then, she went to the small kitchen, heated up some instant rice balls she had bought from a 24-hour convenience store in the microwave, and quickly finished her dinner with water.

She took off her school uniform jacket and went into her even smaller bedroom.

There were no decorations typical of young girls, only a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.

Qiao Chunxia first changed out of her school uniform and put on a neat set of clothes. Then she squatted down and laboriously dragged a heavy, dusty metal box out from under the bed.

The box was not locked.

She took a deep breath, as if making a major decision, and then opened the lid of the box.

Inside were not gold or silver treasures, but several pieces of "equipment" that looked rather old:

A simple silver necklace, a bronze ring with a badly worn face, a broadsword with multiple nicks and dark red stains on the blade, a metal arm shield with a dented edge, and a relatively intact short sword.

These are her father's "relics".

To be precise, it was equipment that her father had "discarded" but which had sentimental value.

Qiao Chunxia picked up the necklace, feeling its cool touch.

She hesitated for a moment, then put it around her neck. She then picked up the bronze ring and slipped it onto her index finger. Then, she tried to reach for the greatsword.

"Um----"

She gripped it with one hand and barely managed to lift the greatsword from the box, the tip dragging on the ground.

With her strength at the third level of the Transcendent Realm, lifting a few hundred kilograms with one hand shouldn't be too difficult for her, but this seemingly dilapidated greatsword was heavier than she had imagined, making it extremely difficult for her to wield, let alone swing it.

Is it because the Transcendent Realm is weak?

Of course not, it's because Qiao Chunxia's body is too weak.

"As expected, I can't use my father's greatsword at all."

She muttered to herself, carefully placing the greatsword back into the box, and then picked up the arm shield and the short sword.

He slipped the arm shield onto his left arm, adjusted the straps, and inserted the short sword into a simple leather sheath at his waist.

Next, Qiao Chunxia emptied all the textbooks and notes from her schoolbag and neatly stacked them on her desk.

Her empty schoolbag was used to store some odds and ends she might need: three packs of compressed dry food, two bottles of purified water, a bundle of rope, a box of basic hemostatic powder and bandages, a lighter, and a multi-functional dagger.

After doing all this, she went to her father's portrait again.

This time, she didn't offer incense; she simply stood there quietly, looking at her father's smiling face in the photo.

"dad----"

Qiao Chunxia spoke, her voice a little hoarse: "When I was little, I always pestered you, clamoring to be an adventurer, to go into dungeons with you, to see those completely different creatures, to pick up sparkling treasures—you always refused, saying with a stern face..."

"The dungeon is too dangerous," she said, adding that she would take good care of me for my mother, and then wait until I earned enough money so we could live a peaceful and happy life.

'

Her eyes were slightly red and her nose felt sore, but no tears fell.

I just cried, and all my tears have dried up.

She sniffed hard, and that almost stubborn determination reappeared on her face.

"This time—I have no choice but to disobey you. I'm going to the [Dungeon]."

"I need magic cores, I need to exchange for Grade A martial arts, I need real combat experience, I need to become stronger, I need to earn lots and lots of money—I need to wake my mother up."

"I checked. The newly discovered Goblin Mine dungeon near Ancheng has a low risk rating, suitable for novice adventurers. I'll be careful."

She bowed deeply to the portrait of the deceased.

"I hope—I hope your spirit in heaven will bless me so that I can return alive from the [Dungeon]."

After saying that, she didn't linger. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, checked her gear, took one last look at the desolate house, turned around, locked the door, and left.

Before she even went downstairs, she suddenly stopped, turned back, and walked to another corner of the living room.

There is a small shrine there.

There were no statues of gods in the shrine, only a sandalwood tablet with the words written in gold lettering on it—

[The divine position of Xia Xinghan, the founder of martial arts].

This is a shrine spontaneously built by the people for the legendary "Martial Ancestor" who guarded the country's gate and created the martial arts system. Many families of practitioners worship him and pray for the blessing of martial arts.

Qiao Chunxia lit three thin incense sticks, respectfully inserted them into the incense burner, clasped her hands in prayer, and whispered a prayer: "I—um—the believer Qiao Chunxia, ​​today prepare to descend into the [Dungeon] to save my mother's life. I earnestly beseech the Martial Ancestor to bless me, to bless my martial fortune, to bless my martial arts to flourish, and to bless me—to return safely."

Wisps of smoke rose into the air.

The moment she finished speaking, the blue butterfly that had been silently following her landed on her shoulder, its wings fluttering.

A gentle and calm "voice" suddenly rang out: "Okay."

""

"!?"

Qiao Chunxia's body stiffened abruptly, and she turned her head sharply!

The house is empty.

There was no one there.

Was that "okay" just now a hallucination? Or was it... haunted?

It couldn't be the Martial Ancestor's response, could it?

Her heart was pounding.

"Is it just auditory hallucinations caused by too much stress? Yes, that's right."

"It can't be weird; the weirdness was eliminated ten years ago."

Qiao Chunxia shook her head vigorously, suppressing her chaotic thoughts, but still clinging to the last sliver of hope—a hope that even she herself found absurd—she tentatively called out softly into the empty room, "Lord Martial Ancestor—can you hear me?"

"Yes, you can."

Thousands of kilometers away, atop a colossal wall ten thousand meters high, stood a handsome and radiant young man with dark eyes, seemingly looking down upon Qiao Chunxia in Ancheng, separated by mountains and rivers.

He smiled faintly: "I can hear you, but can you hear me?"

Of course not.

Qiao Chunxia held her breath and pricked up her ears.

One second, two seconds, three seconds —

The only sounds in the room were the faint hum of the old refrigerator running and the distant sound of traffic from the street outside the window.

Qiao Chunxia waited in place for more than ten seconds, her tense nerves gradually relaxing, and an indescribable emotion welled up in her heart.

"The Martial Ancestor is far away, guarding the borders alone. There are even rumors that he shattered the void and ascended to a higher dimension several years ago. How could he possibly be talking to me?"

Qiao Chunxia exhaled a breath of stale air, raised her hand to rub her throbbing temples, and muttered to herself, "It really was just an auditory hallucination. Looks like I've been under too much pressure lately; I'm even a little mentally foggy. I need to adjust; I can't keep staying up so late—"

However, just as she turned to leave again, that gentle, calm "voice," which seemed to resonate directly in her mind, appeared once more, with a clear smile: "Of course it's not a hallucination."

Qiao Chunxia was so startled that she almost jumped up. Her heart clenched, and she whirled around, her back against the cold wall, looking around in disbelief. "Who? Who's talking?!"

"what!"

"Get out here right now!"

The room remained empty.

She began searching everywhere in the cramped room.

The room was only so big, and there was only so much stuff. I searched again and again, but I couldn't find a single person.

"Hahaha! I was hallucinating after all! Is the pressure too much? Hmm... When I go to visit my mom in the hospital tomorrow, I'll also get an appointment with a psychiatrist."

"Don't be nervous, Qiao Chunxia, ​​I'm not a bad person."

Xia Xinghan communicated with Qiao Chunxia through Mengdie.

"You say you're not a bad person? How do you know my name?"

"Who—who are you?"

Qiao Chunxia forced herself to calm down and quietly gripped the hilt of the short sword at her waist.

"Guess? It's easy."

Qiao Chunxia's gaze unconsciously fell on the wooden memorial tablet in the shrine, and she blurted out, "The Martial Ancestor?!"

But then she immediately rejected the absurd idea, shaking her head vigorously as if to shake off the unrealistic thought.

"No, impossible! How could you possibly be the Martial Ancestor?"

"The Martial Ancestor, that old man—"

"I'm not old."

"His voice doesn't sound old at all; it's a bit like Qing Shou's voice."

"Um???"

"What do you mean, 'Qing'? Say it again."

"Young voice—" Qiao Chunxia, ​​who had inexplicably backed down, changed the subject and became extremely certain, "Anyway, you can't possibly be the Martial Ancestor."

'

Great, let's eliminate the correct answer first.

"Then who am I?" Xia Xinghan asked curiously.

Qiao Chunxia lowered her head, her gaze falling on the simple bronze ring on her right index finger.

As if struck by a sudden inspiration, a scene commonly found in old-fashioned online novels and TV dramas flashed through her mind.

"Could it be—" Qiao Chunxia's eyes widened slightly, filled with disbelief and excitement. She lowered her voice and tentatively asked, "You—you are—the old man with the ring?!"

Xia Xinghan, who was observing everything with great interest through Mengdie atop the Great Wall, almost burst out laughing when he heard this title.

"Grandpa Ring, um—just think of me as Grandpa Ring."

You should be content with having the Martial Ancestor as your ring grandpa.

Ten thousand meters above the ground, with the sea of ​​clouds below, the boy sat on the wall, stroking his chin with a contented smile.

Who would have thought that not only would I be cheating myself, but one day I would also become someone else's cheat.

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