Physical enlightenment begins with Xingyi Quan

Chen Jianghe heard it clearly from afar, and a chill ran through him.

One hundred and fifty coins, with two coins of interest per day, may sound like small amounts, but over a month that adds up to sixty coins in interest, and an annual interest rate of nearly 50%!

This is clearly a predatory loan that squeezes you dry; once you borrow it, you'll never be able to pay it back in this lifetime.

Wang Biao was certain that the mother and son were weak and easily bullied.

Chen Jianghe took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and strode forward.

His voice was calm as he slowly helped Lin up: "Mother."

Upon seeing her son, Lin became even more terrified: "Jiang He, you're back! That Uncle Biao said the wedding gift money has gone up!"

When Wang Biao saw Chen Jianghe return, his smile widened even more: "Oh, Jianghe's back! Perfect timing, you should hear this too. The gang has a new rule: it's charged per person. Your family of three has to pay 450 coins. Your mother only has 300 coins, so you're short 150. Do you want to pay now, or should I lend it to you?"

As he spoke, his gaze swept over Chen Jianghe's patched coarse cloth clothes, a hint of contempt flashing in his eyes.

How much profit could a day laborer at the Shen household possibly make? Wang Biao is determined to pocket this money today.

Chen Jianghe shielded his mother behind him and said with a wry smile, "Brother Biao, this price increase came too suddenly. We really can't raise the money right now."

Wang Biao patted him on the shoulder, looking like he was thinking of him: "I understand, I understand. That's why I said you can borrow it first. One hundred and fifty coins, two coins of interest per day, you can borrow and pay it back as you please, I will never cheat you. How about it? I'm only saying this because I'm thinking of how hard it is for you and your orphan mother."

Chen Jianghe lowered his head and remained silent for a few moments.

Lin, anxiously tugging at his sleeve, whispered, "Jiang He, we can't lend it to him, the interest..."

"Mom, it's alright." Chen Jianghe turned around and gave his mother a reassuring look.

When Chen Jianghe returned, his face was full of gratitude: "Your Highness is kind and benevolent. Then lend me 150 coins to tide me over. I will definitely repay you with interest next month."

A smug glint flashed in Wang Biao's eyes, and he waved his hand dismissively: "Great! Get the account books!"

His attendant immediately handed him an account book.

Wang Biao pulled out a charcoal pencil and inkpad from his pocket, licked the tip of the pencil, and said, "Come on, put your fingerprint here. It's a loan of 150 cash, with a daily interest of 2 cash, for a term of one month. If you don't repay by the due date, the boat will be used as collateral."

Chen Jianghe took the pen and pressed his fingerprint on the IOU.

Wang Biao put away the IOU with satisfaction and patted Chen Jianghe on the shoulder heavily: "Alright, then you two get busy. Remember, on the first day of next month, the principal and interest will be 210 cash. I'll come to collect it on time."

After saying that, he swaggered away with his two henchmen, his footsteps thumping on the wooden planks of the boat as they gradually faded into the distance.

Chen Jianghe helped his mother, Lin, sit down at the bow of the boat.

The river water lapped against the rotten wooden boat, making a hollow sound.

Lin's tears welled up again, her rough fingers gripping her son's sleeve tightly: "Jianghe, it's all my fault! One hundred and fifty coins, two coins a day... how much will we have to pay back by the end of the month?"

Chen Jianghe squatted down, his gaze level with his mother's, and said softly, "Mother, don't calculate that. Calculating it will only make you more anxious."

Madam Lin stared blankly at her son. After three years of training in the Shen family, the calmness in his eyes sometimes made her feel like he was a stranger.

But she dared not ask, and could only say in a trembling voice, "Jiang He, do you have any ideas? Please don't do anything foolish. Wang Biao is backed by the Blackwater Gang; we can't afford to offend them!"

Chen Jianghe twitched the corners of his mouth, as if he wanted to laugh, but didn't: "I won't cause trouble. Let's be reasonable and pay back the money according to the rules. Mother, trust me. Haven't we made it through all these years?"

A few oil lamps flickered on in Mudfish Bay, their light dim and yellowish.

Lin fumbled to light her small oil lamp; the tiny flame flickered, casting a swaying shadow on Chen Jianghe's face.

Lin lowered her voice, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the edge of her apron: "Jiang He, just tell your mother the truth. What exactly do you want?"

Chen Jianghe looked at his mother's anxious face and remained silent for a moment.

He finally spoke, his voice very low: "Mother, my short-term job at the Shen family's residence is due in a few days. It's time to settle my final wages."

Madam Lin nodded: "I remember, your Uncle Liu mentioned last time that he was thinking of transferring your marriage to a permanent spouse?"

"I won't transfer it," Chen Jianghe said decisively.

Lin understood. Her lips trembled: "You still want to learn martial arts?"

"This is the only way out."

Lin looked at Chen Jianghe and then nodded: "Mother believes in you. If the wages are not enough after the settlement, Mother will think of another way."

Night falls quickly and deeply in Mudfish Bay.

After helping Lin to bed, Chen Jianghe sat alone at the bow of the boat. He took out the document from his pocket and read it again. Then, Chen Jianghe tore the document into pieces and scattered them into the river.

He stood up and walked into the cramped cabin. He pulled a small cloth bag from under the bed board; inside was his savings of three years' wages. He counted it; he was short ten taels.

Ten taels of silver were needed to pay the tuition fee to the martial arts school.

He carefully wrapped the silver again and put it back in its place. Then, from a tattered wooden box in the corner, he took out the butcher knife he had used for three years. The blade was polished to a gleaming shine, gleaming coldly in the dim light.

Three years have passed. He worked in the slaughterhouse of the Shen family, slaughtering pigs, sheep, and cattle. From initially being unable to even hold a knife steadily, he eventually learned to locate every bone and the direction of every tendon with his eyes closed.

[Skill: Butchering (Mastery)]

[Effect: Provides insight into the structure of muscles, bones, and joints]

This skill, when used on livestock, is merely a craft. When used on humans... well...

Chen Jianghe tucked the knife into his lower back and covered it with the hem of his clothes. He then found an old cloth and covered his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

He silently climbed out of the cabin and slid into the night like a water snake.

Wang Biao knew exactly where he would go tonight.

At the eastern end of Mudskipper Bay, there is a relatively tidy cluster of houseboats. Wang Biao goes there every day to "drink."

Chen Jianghe knew that dark alleyway he had to take. On both sides were crooked, dilapidated wooden houses, piled with miscellaneous items. Few people walked there during the day, and at night it was so dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

He crouched motionless behind a pile of tattered fishing nets deep in the alley.

The river wind whistled through the alley, drowning out his soft breathing.

After an unknown amount of time, the sound of staggering footsteps and indistinct humming came from the alley entrance.

"Damn! That widow is really strong!"

It was Wang Biao's voice, tinged with drunkenness.

Chen Jianghe slowly stood up, stepped out of the shadows, and stood in the middle of the alley.

Wang Biao squinted, staring for a while before recognizing a figure. He mumbled a curse, "Who the hell's blocking the way? Get out of the way!"

Chen Jianghe didn't say anything, but simply took a step forward.

Wang Biao finally realized something was wrong, sobered up a bit, and reached for his waist: "You..."

Before he finished speaking, Chen Jianghe made a move.

There were no fancy movements, not even a loud sound. He simply stepped aside, letting Wang Biao draw his half-drawn dagger, and his left hand instantly reached out and precisely grabbed Wang Biao's right wrist holding the knife.

Before Wang Biao could react, Chen Jianghe had already drawn the butcher knife from his waist with his right hand.

A flash of light appeared in the darkness.

There was no chopping or splitting. It was just a gentle push along the side of Wang Biao's neck, along the prominent veins and joints.

Wang Biao's eyes widened, and he made a strange "hoarse" sound in his throat.

He tried to call out, but no sound came out.

Chen Jianghe released his grip, and Wang Biao fell to the ground like a piece of wood, his body twitching twice before becoming still.

The whole process took only two or three breaths.

Chen Jianghe crouched down, first smearing Wang Biao's blood on the short knife and tossing it next to the body. Then he began searching the body.

There were a few taels of loose silver and a few dozen copper coins in the purse. He weighed them in his hand and put them in his pocket. Then he took out a wooden identification tag from the Black Tiger Gang and casually threw it into the stinking ditch next to him.

After doing all this, he did not leave immediately. Instead, he used the tip of his knife to make several cuts of varying depths near the wound on Wang Biao's neck. Then, he used the handle of the knife to strike Wang Biao's chest, temples, and throat bone several times until he heard a faint cracking sound.

Finally, using the dim light filtering in from the alley entrance, he carefully wiped the blood off the knife.

He then took out a small paper packet from his pocket, poured out some white powder—quicklime he had taken from the slaughterhouse of the Shen family—smeared it on the knife, and then wiped it clean.

After doing all this, he stood up and put the knife back into his waistband.

He walked to the alley entrance, stopped, and looked back.

Wang Biao's body was curled up in the shadows, the wound on his neck covered by later scratches, making it look like he had been hacked to death.

The marks on his chest and head suggested that he had been attacked after his death.

Is it perfect? ​​No, but as long as the world is chaotic enough, and resembles gang warfare enough, that's enough.