Martial Arts Crossover: My master tricked Huang Rong into becoming my wife!

In the evening, Chen Yanzhou sat by the fire, holding a large porcelain bowl in his arms, slurping down his coarse rice porridge.

Although it's brown rice, it's made with leftover fish offal from the afternoon, making it incredibly delicious.

After practicing boxing all day and then outwitting those old men in the council hall, he was so tired that he didn't even want to move a finger.

With the body of an eight-year-old but the soul of an adult, this stark contrast often left him feeling deeply weary.

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you." Hong Qigong walked over at some point, carrying a jug of freshly brewed cheap liquor.

Chen Yanzhou didn't even look up: "I'm hungry. Master, is your 'Chaos Technique' specifically designed to trick people? I feel weaker and weaker the more I practice it, and it feels like acid is seeping out of my bones."

Hong Qigong took a swig of wine and said with a smile, "Martial arts are like this. If it were that easy, wouldn't all the masters in the world be commonplace?"

Chen Yanzhou mumbled a couple of times, too weak to argue, and finished the porridge in a few gulps. He threw the bowl down and lay down on the straw mat.

"Master, I'm going to sleep. Don't wake me even if the sky falls."

After a short while, even breathing sounds could be heard.

He was sleeping soundly, but his brow was slightly furrowed, clearly indicating that his body was undergoing tremendous exertion.

Hong Qigong looked at his sleeping little apprentice, a hint of heartache flashing in his eyes.

"That brat."

He gently sat on the edge of the bed, stretched out a large, calloused hand, and slowly placed it on Chen Yanzhou's back.

A pure and gentle internal force, like a fine spring rain, slowly seeped into Chen Yanzhou's meridians.

In his dream, Chen Yanzhou felt as if his body had suddenly fallen into a hot spring. His muscles, which had been aching and throbbing, were being gently kneaded by a pair of gentle hands. All the pent-up fatigue and exhaustion quietly disappeared at that moment.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Hong Qigong's forehead.

This kind of work, which uses one's own internal energy to nourish the meridians of others, is extremely mentally taxing.

But he didn't care at all and did it with exceptional care, circulating his internal energy through Chen Yanzhou's body for one cycle after another, helping to regulate his meridians.

After a long while, Hong Qigong withdrew his hand and let out a long sigh of relief.

He looked at Chen Yanzhou's relaxed brows and a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

Hong Qigong stood up, pulled the tattered blanket that had slipped off Chen Yanzhou, turned around, and disappeared into the night in a flash.

Silence returned to the shack, broken only by the boy's soft snoring.

I slept exceptionally soundly that night.

When Chen Yanzhou opened his eyes, he felt his joints cracking all over, as if there was inexhaustible energy surging through his body.

Normally, after practicing that set of "Hun Tian Gong" (a martial arts technique), I would wake up the next day feeling like I had been beaten up with a sack over my head, with unbearable soreness. But today was strange; not only did it not hurt, but it felt like I had taken a hot bath, and my whole body felt comfortable.

Could it be that I'm a one-in-a-million martial arts prodigy who can automatically regenerate mana after a nap?

Chen Yanzhou rolled out of bed and, without thinking much, ran to the riverbank in the early morning light.

The river water was clear and cold, and the air was biting.

He took off his shirt, revealing his lean frame, took a deep breath, and got into a fighting stance.

Bang! A punch was thrown, and a faint, crisp sound echoed in the air.

Chen Yanzhou was stunned for a moment; the strength was much greater than yesterday's.

He practiced for an hour, until the sun was high in the sky and his stomach started growling, at which point he stopped, wiped his sweat, and ran back home.

Back in the shack, a fragrant aroma of rice wafted through the air.

Lu Youjiao was squatting in front of the stove, stirring the pot with a large wooden spoon.

When Chen Yanzhou returned, he ladled out a large bowl of thick porridge, dripped two drops of sesame oil (from who-knows-where) onto the dish of pickled vegetables, and pushed it over.

"Eat it while it's hot."

Chen Yanzhou didn't stand on ceremony, picking up the bowl and slurping down a large mouthful, his breath coming in gasps from the heat: "Great! Grandpa Lu, this porridge is really good. By the way, where's my master?"

Lu Youjiao pointed towards the back mountain: "He disappeared before dawn. He probably didn't get enough of that pot of wine last night and went off somewhere to make up for it. Never mind him, the gang leader is elusive, who knows, he'll probably be back in a couple of days with a chicken leg in his pocket."

Chen Yanzhou pursed his lips and picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with his chopsticks: "I think he ran away because he was afraid I would ask him for the internal energy cultivation manual."

"Just eat your food, stop talking so much."

Lu Youjiao chuckled and cursed, then said seriously, "After you finish eating, clean up and take this bag of rice to Old Man Xu in the east of the city. Also, take your books with you and let him test your knowledge."

Chen Yanzhou paused, his face contorted in a pained expression. "Grandpa Lu, can we not go? That old man Xu is too pedantic, always spouting classical phrases; it gives me a headache. Besides, I need to practice martial arts and help you figure out how to make the Beggars' Sect rich. I don't have time to read those pretentious books!"

"Nonsense!"

Lu Youjiao straightened his face and said, "Although our Beggars' Sect may be beggars, we can't be blind forever. Our leader is exceptionally gifted; he can comprehend unparalleled martial arts even without being literate. Can you do that? Besides, could you have spouted that 'rolling in money' theory from yesterday without some education? Just having brute strength makes you a brute; you'll be sold out and still be counting the money for them!"

Chen Yanzhou shrank his neck.

Well, so he's trying to train himself to be the successor of the Beggars' Sect, skilled in both literature and martial arts.

"Okay, okay, I'll go, alright?"

Chen Yanzhou finished the porridge in a few gulps and wiped his mouth.

Lu Youjiao pulled out a small bag of coarse rice from the corner, weighing about ten pounds, and stuffed two copper coins into his hand: "Don't be playful on the way. Mr. Xu has it tough too. Be polite when you visit."

Chen Yanzhou took the bag of rice and hoisted it onto his shoulder. The weight of about ten kilograms was nothing to him.

"Let's go!"

After leaving the shack, we walked along the dirt road towards the city.

Along the way, Chen Yanzhou clearly sensed that the atmosphere was somewhat different.

The number of beggars who used to lie on the roadside sunbathing and picking lice has decreased significantly. When you do encounter a few, they are always in a hurry, either carrying a stick or a basket on their back.

It seems Lu Youjiao is quite quick to act; he just finished speaking yesterday and is already mobilizing people today.

Upon entering the city, the hustle and bustle immediately envelops you.

Although the world was in chaos, Xiangyang was still an important city, and it still had a semblance of prosperity. The sounds of vendors hawking their wares and the noise of carriages and horses mingled together, creating a lively and bustling atmosphere.

Chen Yanzhou navigated the bustling streets with practiced ease and then turned into a dark and damp alley.

This is a slum, with sewage flowing everywhere and a terrible stench.

At the end of the alley, there was a dilapidated house with peeling paint, revealing the mud bricks inside. A large tile was missing from the roof, which was barely covered by a few bundles of thatch.

This is Old Xu's home.

Old Xu was an old scholar. It is said that he was once full of ambition in his youth, wanting to pass the imperial examinations and serve the court. However, he failed the examinations repeatedly. Later, his family fell into decline, his wife passed away, and he had no children. He was left all alone, guarding this dilapidated house.

He usually earns a few copper coins by writing letters for people and doing fortune telling, and most of the time he has to rely on the help of his neighbors and the beggars' gang.

As Chen Yanzhou walked to the door, before he even pushed it open, he heard a rhythmic reading voice coming from inside.

Confucius said: "Eating coarse food and drinking water, with my arm as a pillow, I can still find joy in it. Wealth and honor obtained unjustly are to me like floating clouds..."

His voice was old, yet it carried a stubbornness.

Chen Yanzhou sighed. This old man, he can't even afford to eat, yet he's still enjoying himself.

"Grandpa Xu! I've brought you some food!"

Chen Yanzhou shouted and pushed the door open to enter.

The room was dimly lit, filled with a musty smell mixed with the smell of ink. Old Xu, wearing a faded, patched-up long gown, sat by the window at a table with a missing leg propped up by bricks, holding a yellowed ancient book in his hands, nodding and swaying his head.

Upon seeing Chen Yanzhou, Old Xu's wrinkled face immediately blossomed into a smile. He put down his book and stood up shakily.

"It's Yanzhou! Come in, come in quickly."

He glanced at the rice bag on Chen Yanzhou's shoulder, a flicker of emotion crossing his cloudy eyes, but he quickly straightened his face and said in a serious tone, "Elder Lu, you're really something. I'm still able to move around and won't starve, so why are you sending me more things? This... what am I supposed to do?"

"Alright, Grandpa Xu, don't be so polite."

Chen Yanzhou poured the rice bag into the rice jar in the corner, making a pleasant splashing sound. "Grandpa Lu said that our Beggars' Sect is going to undergo reforms, and things will be much better in the future. This little bit of rice is nothing. Besides, I still need to learn to read from you, so consider this my tuition fee."

Upon hearing the word "literacy," Old Xu immediately straightened his back, and the composure and pride of a scholar returned instantly.

"Hmm, this child is teachable."

He stroked his sparse goatee, pointed to the broken bench opposite him, and said, "Sit down. Where did we leave off last time?"

"When we talk about Mencius's saying, 'Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on this person,'" Chen Yanzhou said, sitting down obediently.

"Okay, then recite it once."

Chen Yanzhou cleared his throat and began to speak, his pronunciation clear and accurate, without a single mistake.

This was a complete blow to him. Although he wasn't a master of Chinese studies in his previous life, he still had the foundation from nine years of compulsory education. In addition, his memory seemed to have improved a lot after transmigrating, making memorizing texts as easy as drinking water.

Old Xu nodded repeatedly, his eyes full of delight.

This child is so smart, so incredibly smart!

He could remember everything after being taught only once and even apply what he learned to other situations. If he had been born into a wealthy family, with a little training, becoming a top scholar wouldn't have been difficult. It's a pity he was born in a chaotic era and ended up in the Beggars' Guild...

"Good! Well done!"

Old Xu gave a thumbs-up, and then his stomach, quite uncooperatively, growled.

The atmosphere suddenly became somewhat awkward.

Old Xu blushed and coughed twice to cover it up: "Ahem, well... a gentleman seeks the Way, not food..."

Chen Yanzhou looked at the old man who was so concerned about saving face and found it amusing, but he didn't expose him. He got up and walked to the stove.

"Grandpa Xu, I'm also hungry. Shall we get something to eat first? We need to be well-fed to have the energy to pursue our goals, right?"

There was a layer of ash on the stove, and only half a jar of cold water.

Chen Yanzhou worked quickly, starting a fire and washing the rice.

Old Xu's eyes welled up as he watched the busy little figure. He had spent his whole life studying the classics, yet he had fallen so low that in his old age, he had to rely on a little beggar for care.

"Yanzhou."

Old Xu suddenly spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"Hey, what's wrong, Grandpa Xu?" Chen Yanzhou added firewood to the stove without turning his head.

"Do you...do you want to take the imperial examination?"

Chen Yanzhou paused in his movements, turned around, and looked into Old Xu's hopeful eyes.

Taking the imperial examinations? In the late Southern Song Dynasty?

With a corrupt court, treacherous officials in power, a powerful enemy pressing in from the outside, and the people suffering from misery at home, what's the point of taking the exam? Become a sycophantic lackey who only knows how to kowtow, or become an unlucky soul who gets chopped down by the Jurchens?

"I don't want to," Chen Yanzhou answered crisply.

Old Xu was taken aback, then became anxious: "Why? You are exceptionally intelligent. As long as you are willing to work hard, you will surely pass the imperial examination with flying colors and bring glory to your ancestors! It's much better than... much better than wasting your life in the Beggars' Sect!"

In his view, all other professions are inferior, only studying is superior. No matter how glamorous a beggar may be, he is still a member of the lowest class.

Chen Yanzhou smiled and put the pot lid on.

"Grandpa Xu, in this day and age, scholars can't save the country."

He walked up to Old Man Xu, a profound look on his youthful face that seemed beyond his years. "The Jurchen cavalry is to the north, and the Mongols' scimitars are gleaming. At this time, a pen cannot stop a thousand armies. What I need to learn is not how to be an official, but how to survive, and how to help more people survive."

Old Xu opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found himself speechless.

"well……"

Old Xu sighed deeply, appearing as if he had aged considerably. "Indeed, indeed. A scholar is utterly useless..."

"However," Chen Yanzhou changed the subject, leaning closer with a grin, "you still need to be able to read and write, and you still need to keep accounts. Grandpa Xu, if you really want to help me, why not teach me something practical? Like how to write contracts, how to read account books, and how to exploit loopholes in the laws of the Song Dynasty?"

Old Xu's eyes widened: "Sneak...sneak?"

"That's right! How can we deal with those unscrupulous merchants if we don't understand the law? Knowing your enemy is the key to victory!"

Chen Yanzhou blinked.

Old Xu was amused and annoyed, so he tapped the boy on the head with his scroll: "You little rascal! You're trying to turn the classics into a business acumen! Fine, fine, today I'll teach you how to understand the rules of this world!"

The midday sun streamed in through the broken window, shining on the old man and the young man.

The porridge in the pot was bubbling away, steaming and filling the air with its aroma.

Chen Yanzhou listened attentively, occasionally asking a few tricky and strange questions that made Old Xu glare and puff out his beard, yet he had to rack his brains to answer them.

At this moment, a touch of warmth even emerged in the dilapidated little house.