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

"We're all beggars, we're one family."

While picking the bits of meat from between his teeth, Hong Qigong shamelessly shrank back, casually wiping his greasy hands on his tattered clothes. "Little brat," he said, "look at your clothes, they're covered in patches, just like this old beggar's. Since we're in this line of work, we're brothers. What's wrong with eating one of your chickens? That's called...that's called sharing the good fortune!"

The little beggar was so angry that his cheeks puffed up like a pufferfish.

"Who's going to share this good fortune with you! I worked so hard to bake it!"

The little beggar darted forward and reached out to grab Hong Qigong's beard.

His movements were agile, carrying a touch of the elegant style of Peach Blossom Island.

Hong Qigong chuckled, slipped to the side like an eel, not only avoiding the grab, but also lightly flicking the little beggar's forehead.

"Ouch!" The little beggar clutched his forehead, tears welling up in his eyes from the pain.

Just as he was about to lash out, his gaze froze on Hong Qigong's right hand, which he had withdrawn.

The hand was large and thick, with thick knuckles, but the index finger was severed at the base, leaving only nine fingers.

The little beggar's angry eyes narrowed instantly, his pupils darting around, and his cleverness instantly overcame his anger.

Nine-Fingered Beggar?

This old beggar's skills were unfathomable, he was incredibly gluttonous, and on top of that, he had those signature nine fingers...

Who else could it be but Hong Qigong, the elusive leader of the Beggars' Clan?

If I could climb up to this powerful tree, even just learning a move or two, wouldn't I be able to roam the martial world with impunity? Besides, my father always says that among the Five Greats, only the Northern Beggar is the most chivalrous. If I could get him to owe me a favor…

The little beggar's mind was racing with calculations, and the fierce look on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a sly smile.

"that……"

The little beggar looked up, ready to try a different approach, only to find that the old willow tree in front of him was empty.

Only a few withered yellow willow leaves swirled and drifted down.

Where are they?!

The little beggar was stunned and hurriedly looked around.

A rustling sound came from the reeds in the distance, followed by Hong Qigong's raspy voice carried on the wind: "Little brat, this chicken is what this old beggar owes you! The green hills remain, the green waters flow on, but we'll never meet again!"

Before the sound had even faded, the dusty figure was already several feet away, disappearing into the vast wilderness in a few leaps.

"Runs faster than a rabbit!"

The little beggar stomped her feet in anger, but in an instant, she burst out laughing, wiped a streak of black ash from her face, revealing a small patch of fair, jade-like skin.

"Run? As long as you still need to eat, I don't believe I can't catch you."

Having honed her culinary skills on Peach Blossom Island since childhood, she knew that for a true gourmand, exquisite cuisine was more alluring than any martial arts technique. Since this old beggar had such a taste, she wasn't worried about him not taking the bait.

"Gurgle..."

Just as I was thinking this, my stomach started to protest at an inopportune moment.

I was so busy roasting the chicken that I didn't get to eat a single bite myself; it all went to that old man.

The little beggar rubbed his emaciated belly and gazed at the faint outline of the city walls in the distance.

She dusted herself off, pulled her tattered hat down to cover her overly bright eyes, and swaggered off toward the main road with her hands behind her back.

……

Changqing Tower in Zhangjiakou.

It was lunchtime, and the restaurant was bustling with noise. Waiters carrying trays moved swiftly back and forth, their shouts rising and falling.

Chen Yanzhou sat in a private booth by the window on the second floor, holding a white porcelain wine cup in his hand, but his gaze was casually sweeping over the street below through the window.

In recent years, as the Yiyun Division's business has expanded, Zhangjiakou, a major commercial town, has naturally become a key target for the Beggars' Gang.

Beggars' Sect members wearing special vests can be seen everywhere on the streets. Some are directing convoys to unload goods, some are maintaining order, and there are even special "designated driver" services - helping drunk merchants get on their vehicles.

Well-organized, complex yet not chaotic.

"In this world, as long as you have food to eat, who would want to be a rebel?" Chen Yanzhou took a sip of wine and sighed.

Wangcai, standing at his feet, was intently devouring the whole chicken, chewing it with gusto, bones and all.

After a hearty meal, Chen Yanzhou casually slapped a silver ingot on the table, the crisp sound making the waiter beam with delight.

"Sir, that's too much! This meal is at most two ounces, you..."

"Here's a reward for you." Chen Yanzhou picked up the dog-beating stick.

"Yes, sir! Thank you for the reward!" The waiter bowed and scraped, jogging ahead to lead the way.

As we exited Changqing Tower, the sun was high in the sky.

The markets in Zhangjiakou are bustling with activity, a cacophony of hawkers' cries and the sounds of carriages and horses.

Shops lined both sides of the street, and caravans came and went in an endless stream. Many of the carts had an apricot-yellow flag with a large character for "beggar" on it, and a line of smaller characters next to it: "Good deeds will be delivered quickly, and the mission will be accomplished."

Seeing this, Chen Yanzhou's lips curled up slightly.

The Beggars' Sect of today is no longer the beggars' den that only knew how to beg for food, but a behemoth that controls the economic lifeline of the Song Dynasty.

"Woof!"

Wangcai seemed to sense its owner's pride, raising its head and barking. Its glossy black fur shone brightly in the sunlight, making it look like a hunting dog belonging to a noble family.

"Alright, stop showing off." Chen Yanzhou gently tapped the dog's head with a stick. "Come on, let's go to the market up ahead. I heard there are a lot of rare things from beyond the Great Wall there."

A man and his dog strolled leisurely into the bustling crowd.

Although Chen Yanzhou was wearing patched clothes, his demeanor was nothing like that of a beggar. Coupled with the bright green dog-beating stick in his hand and the majestic black dog, passersby turned their heads and even made way for him.

As we were walking, a sudden commotion arose ahead.

"Thief! Someone's stealing steamed buns!"

"You little brat, stop right there! I'll break your legs!"

Immediately following was a chaotic commotion, with the crowd scattering in all directions as if a pot had been boiled over.

Chen Yanzhou frowned slightly. "Are there still people stealing steamed buns these days?"

Since the establishment of the Righteousness Bureau, he set up "Halls of Salvation" in various branches. Any Beggar Clan member who is willing to work, even if it is just to move a box at the dock, will never go hungry. Even if there are old, weak, sick and disabled people who cannot move, the gang has special soup kitchens to provide them with alms.

If word gets out that Beggars' Sect disciples are still stealing chickens and dogs on the streets, where will he, as the sect leader, put his face?

"Let's go take a look." Chen Yanzhou's face darkened, and he strode towards the crowd.

Pushing aside the crowd of onlookers, one could see a chaotic scene unfolding in front of a steamed bun shop.

A thin beggar was cornered against the wall by a burly, fat boss.

The little beggar was filthy, his face smeared with black ash, and he was clutching two plump, white meat buns tightly in his hands, his cheeks bulging, clearly having just stuffed one into his mouth.

"What's wrong with eating two of your steamed buns?" The little beggar swallowed the food in his mouth, glaring defiantly at the fat boss. "I'm doing you a favor! Do you know who I am?"

The fat boss was so angry that his whole body trembled, and the rolling pin in his hand whistled as he swung it: "I don't care who you are! Dressed like a beggar, you dare to act like a big shot in front of me? Pay up! If you don't have money, spit out what you just ate!"

"I have no money!" the little beggar retorted, "You can take my life!"

"Hey! I think you're asking for a beating!" the fat boss roared, raising the rolling pin to smash down.

The onlookers pointed and whispered, but no one stepped forward to stop them. After all, these days, everyone is struggling, and petty theft is the most hated thing.

Chen Yanzhou stood outside the crowd, feeling a throbbing vein on his forehead.

How embarrassing! So embarrassing!

He worked hard to build a corporate culture and promote "civilized begging and getting rich through labor," but this is what happened—he stole steamed buns on the street and acted like a scoundrel.

If Jian Dongshan and his gang of clean-clothes old guys saw this, they'd probably start making up stories about the dirty-clothes faction, saying they're "hopeless and incompetent."

"stop!"

Chen Yanzhou didn't think much of it and gave a low shout.

The fat boss paused with his rolling pin and turned to look at the newcomer.

Seeing that it was a young beggar, he was about to get angry, but his gaze fell on the big, snarling black dog, and he swallowed back the swear words that were about to come out.

"You...you're in cahoots?" The fat boss took a half-step back warily.

Chen Yanzhou ignored the fat boss and walked up to the little beggar with a stern face.

Seeing someone step in, the little beggar's eyes darted around, and he immediately put on a pitiful expression, shrinking behind Chen Yanzhou: "Big brother! This fat guy is bullying me! He won't give me food, and he even tried to beat me to death!"

That "Big Brother" was called out so crisply and clearly.

Chen Yanzhou's lips twitched slightly.

With such acting skills, it's a waste that she's not performing in a theater.