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

When we came out of Old Xu's dilapidated house, the sun was already setting.

Chen Yanzhou's mind was filled with the rules and regulations of the Song Dynasty regarding commercial taxes and travel permits. Although Old Xu was pedantic, he had certainly lived a more life of experience than Chen Yanzhou. When talking about the intricacies of officialdom and the loopholes in the law, he knew them like the back of his hand.

This isn't teaching; it's teaching how to exploit loopholes.

As Chen Yanzhou kicked at the pebbles by the roadside, he pondered how to monetize this knowledge.

Just as I reached the patch of weeds outside the shack, before I could even call out to Grandpa Lu, my collar suddenly tightened, and I was lifted into the air.

"Shh! Be quiet, come with me."

A familiar voice rang in my ears; I knew it was that lecherous old man without even turning around.

Hong Qigong carried him like a chick, and with a few leaps, he darted to the reed beds on the riverbank several miles away.

This place is secluded; it's a good spot to do bad things... oh no, to eat alone.

After putting Chen Yanzhou down on the ground, Hong Qigong mysteriously pulled out an oil paper package from his pocket.

Before the oil paper was even unwrapped, an overpowering aroma of meat wafted into my nostrils.

"This is..." Chen Yanzhou's eyes widened in disbelief.

Hong Qigong chuckled, lifted the oil paper, revealing a roast chicken, its skin a glossy red color and still steaming hot. The skin was roasted to a crisp, glistening with oil droplets, making it look incredibly appetizing.

"Gulp."

Two swallowing sounds, one loud and one soft, rang out simultaneously.

"Master, where did this come from?" Chen Yanzhou wiped his mouth, looking at Hong Qigong suspiciously. "Your pockets are emptier than your face, did you perhaps steal it from some restaurant?"

"Nonsense!" Hong Qigong glared, his face righteous. "This was bought! It was bought with real money!"

"You have money?" Chen Yanzhou glanced at him sideways.

"Ahem... What's wrong with an old beggar like me saving up a little money every now and then after wandering the world for so many years?" Hong Qigong's eyes darted around, clearly lacking confidence. He quickly changed the subject, tearing off a large, fat chicken leg and stuffing it into Chen Yanzhou's hand. "Enough with the nonsense, eat up! It won't taste good if it gets cold!"

Chen Yanzhou didn't stand on ceremony and grabbed a chicken leg, taking a big bite.

Crispy skin, tender meat, and bursting with juice—one bite is simply heavenly.

"Mmm...delicious!" Chen Yanzhou exclaimed indistinctly, his cheeks bulging.

Watching his apprentice wolf down his food, Hong Qigong swallowed hard, reached out to tear off another chicken leg, and was about to put it in his mouth when he stopped.

He looked at the chicken leg in his hand, then at Chen Yanzhou who was engrossed in his work, hesitated for a moment, and then handed the chicken leg to Chen Yanzhou.

"Um... this one is for you too. You're growing, so eat more meat."

Chen Yanzhou stopped what he was doing and looked up at Hong Qigong.

Chen Yanzhou felt a warmth in his heart, swallowed the meat in his mouth, and pushed the chicken leg that was offered back.

"Master, please eat."

"Just eat what I'm offered. Why are you being so polite?"

"I don't like chicken legs, the meat is too dry and gets stuck in my teeth." Chen Yanzhou lied through his teeth, reaching out to tear off a chicken wing and a piece of chicken breast. "I like to eat this, it's fresh meat and chewy."

Hong Qigong was taken aback for a moment, then laughed and scolded, "You brat, you still have some conscience after all."

He stopped refusing and started munching on the chicken leg.

The master and apprentice sat in the reeds, enjoying the river breeze and eating roast chicken. For a moment, only the sound of chewing could be heard, and the atmosphere was unusually warm.

After eating half a chicken, Chen Yanzhou let out a satisfied burp and felt completely revitalized.

He leaned against the earthen slope behind him, watching Hong Qigong licking the oil stains off his fingers, and suddenly remembered what happened that morning.

"Master," Chen Yanzhou leaned closer, his face mysterious, "This morning when I woke up, I didn't feel any soreness or pain at all; on the contrary, I was incredibly energetic. Before, after practicing that damn... that 'Chaotic Heaven Skill,' I felt like I was falling apart the next day, but today I'm perfectly fine!"

As he spoke, he swung his fist boastfully: "Tell me, am I one of those martial arts prodigies, one in a million? The kind who can automatically open up their Ren and Du meridians after just one night's sleep?"

Hong Qi was picking his teeth when he heard this and almost choked on his saliva.

He rolled his eyes, utterly speechless.

"You wish!" Hong Qigong smacked him on the forehead in annoyance. "A martial arts prodigy? I think you're dreaming of marrying a wife—you're just daydreaming. It's just that the fish you ate last night was good for your health!"

"Fish have this effect?" Chen Yanzhou scratched his forehead, half-believing, half-doubting. "Then let's catch a few more next time?"

"Eat, eat, all you ever think about is eating." Hong Qigong stood up, patted the dirt off his backside, and said, "Martial arts training is all about perseverance; there's no such thing as instant success. Stop thinking about all that nonsense all day."

Chen Yanzhou pursed his lips, clearly not satisfied with this explanation.

However, since his master was unwilling to acknowledge his "talent," he was too lazy to argue.

His eyes darted around, and he started thinking of something else.

"Master..." Chen Yanzhou drawled, his face full of flattery as he leaned over to massage Hong Qigong's shoulders, "You see, about that internal energy cultivation method..."

Hong Qigong felt comfortable being pinched, his eyes half-closed, and he hummed twice.

"Alright then," Hong Qigong finally relented.

Chen Yanzhou was overjoyed: "Really? You agreed?"

"Don't be too happy yet." Hong Qigong held up one finger and shook it. "I have conditions."

"Go ahead and say it! I'll agree to ten or a hundred, not just one!" Chen Yanzhou patted his chest.

"Study hard and practice your writing, do you hear me?"

"No problem!" Chen Yanzhou readily agreed.

Hong Qigong paused, his expression becoming slightly more serious. "I'm going on a long trip in a few days to visit some old friends and see if I can find you a good one."

Chen Yanzhou was taken aback: "Going on a long trip? Where to?"

"That's none of your business." Hong Qigong waved his hand, reverting to his lazy demeanor. "Anyway, it'll take at least a month, and at most half a year. During this time, you'd better behave yourself in the gang."

"Don't worry, Master, I'm the best behaved," Chen Yanzhou quickly replied.

"Alright, it's getting dark, hurry up and go back to sleep." Hong Qigong threw the remaining chicken bones into the river, yawned, and said, "I'm sleepy too, I need to find a place to nap for a while."

Chen Yanzhou was satisfied and stood up, patting his bottom.

"Alright, Master, you should get some rest too. I'll try to get you a good bottle of wine tomorrow, and we'll celebrate!"

After saying that, he waved to Hong Qigong and ran off towards the shack.

Watching the boy run happily into the twilight, Hong Qigong smiled.

"That little rascal..."

He muttered something under his breath, then his figure blurred, and like a large bird, he swept across the reeds and disappeared into the vast night.

What he didn't say was that, besides looking for the cultivation method, he also had to go to the imperial kitchen.

After all, he had just boasted that he would get his disciple a peerless martial arts manual, so he couldn't just leave empty-handed, could he? Even if he went to that old poison master or Huang Yaoshi to borrow one, he should at least bring some kind of gift with him, right?

As for money... Hong Qigong touched his empty pockets and sighed.

"Looks like I'll have to visit some corrupt official's house again. Being a master isn't easy these days."

……

As dawn broke and the first hint of light appeared in the east, the morning mist still lingered, damply enveloping the riverbank.

Chen Yanzhou sat up quickly and efficiently, showing no intention of staying in bed.

I slept so soundly last night that when I woke up I felt completely refreshed, as if my limbs and bones had been soaked in warm water.

"Although this 'Chaos Technique' is physically demanding, it restores health quickly."

He muttered something to himself, put on his patched burlap clothes, and tiptoed out of the shack.

The wind by the river carried the chill unique to the early morning, and felt like tiny blades on my face.

Chen Yanzhou took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs and instantly dispelling the last bit of sleepiness.

Stand still, relax your shoulders, and drop your elbows.

It was still that same boring and tedious beginner's boxing technique.

At first, the movements were a bit clumsy, and the body wasn't warmed up yet. But after a couple of rounds, that familiar warmth rose from deep within the muscles. Sweat slid down the forehead, dripping onto the pebbles and instantly soaking in.

Chen Yanzhou was single-minded, putting all his strength into every punch, not seeking speed, but only stability.

Just as he was performing the third move, specifically the "Pushing Open the Window to Gaze at the Moon" technique with his arms outstretched, a sudden change occurred.

Deep within the dantian, a very subtle and weak flow of heat swished through it.

But the feeling was so clear that Chen Yanzhou's body suddenly stiffened, maintaining his punching posture, as if he had been frozen in place.

Internal energy?!

Is this what it means to feel Qi? Is this the threshold for internal energy cultivation?

I told you I was a once-in-a-million genius!

A surge of overwhelming joy welled up inside him, and he couldn't wait to grasp that feeling. However, his dantian remained stagnant, without any ripples.

After a stalemate that lasted for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Chen Yanzhou plopped down on the ground.

"That doesn't make sense..."

Chen Yanzhou frowned and stared blankly at his belly button.

That feeling just now was definitely not an illusion; that tingling, warm, electric-like sensation felt so real.

Was it because we were in too much of a hurry?

My master once said that haste makes waste, and martial arts training should follow the natural course of events.

He closed his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and tried to calm himself down, attempting to capture that last trace of energy again. But after struggling for a long time, he sensed nothing except for his stomach growling with hunger.

"That's enough."

Chen Yanzhou patted his bottom and stood up, his eyes regaining their firmness.

Since it happened once, it means the path is correct. With enough effort, even an iron rod can be ground into a needle. If you can sense it the first time, you can sense it the second and third time.

"Keep practicing!"

He stopped focusing on that wisp of energy, resumed his stance, and his fists roared once more. This time, he fought with even greater effort, each punch carrying a fierce force, as if trying to force out that hidden energy.

He only stopped when the sun was high in the sky and his stomach was protesting so badly.

Back in the shack, it was empty.

At this time of day, Lu Youjiao would usually be busy at the stove.

"It seems Grandpa Lu is really busy."

Looking at the deserted stove, Chen Yanzhou was not disappointed at all; instead, he grinned.

Being busy is good. Being busy means that "labor reform" is underway, and that the rusty machine of the Beggars' Guild has started running again. As long as it keeps moving, there will be money to be made and food to eat.

He skillfully started a fire and scooped half a bowl of brown rice from the rice jar.

After thinking for a moment, I took out two leftover sweet potatoes from the corner of the wall, washed them, cut them into pieces, and threw them into the pot to cook together.

Before long, the sweet aroma of sweet potato porridge wafted out.

Chen Yanzhou squatted by the stove, watching the fire.

A moment later, he hastily finished two large bowls of sweet potato porridge, washed the pots and pans clean, wiped his mouth, and headed towards the city.

……

Old Xu's dilapidated house still looked like it could collapse at any moment.

When Chen Yanzhou pushed open the door, the old man was staring blankly at a plate of pickled vegetables, holding half a cold steamed bun in his hand. His expression made it seem as if he were savoring some rare delicacy.

"Good morning, Grandpa Xu."

Chen Yanzhou, as if he knew the place well, found a stool and sat down.

When Old Xu came to his senses and saw Chen Yanzhou, the sour and sullen look on his face faded considerably. He quickly hid the remaining steamed buns in his sleeve and put on the airs of a scholar.

"Yanzhou is here. Shall we discuss the Analects or Mencius today?"

"They won't talk about it."

Chen Yanzhou pulled out a stack of crumpled straw paper from his pocket, which was covered with all sorts of scribbles and lines.

"Today we will discuss the Commercial Law of the Great Song Dynasty."

Upon hearing these words, Old Xu's mustache bristled: "You child, why is your mind filled with such greedy thoughts? As the sage said..."

"Even saints need to eat." Chen Yanzhou interrupted his spellcasting prelude, spread out the straw paper, and said, "Grandpa Xu, I spent the whole night thinking about the 'passing tax' and 'residence tax' you mentioned yesterday, and I found a big loophole."

Old Xu was taken aback and subconsciously leaned over to take a look.

"What loophole? The laws of the Song Dynasty are strict; where would a loophole come from?"

"Look," Chen Yanzhou pointed to a line on the paper, "the law stipulates that merchants must pay 'transit tax' when crossing customs and 'residence tax' when trading in markets. But there is one provision that allows farmers who 'produce and sell their own' produce within a hundred miles to be exempt from tax."

Old Xu nodded: "That is indeed the case; it shows the imperial court's compassion for farmers."

"What if it were our Beggars' Sect?" Chen Yanzhou's eyes gleamed like a fox's. "We're neither merchants nor farmers. If we help someone transport goods, are those goods 'ours' or 'the merchant's'?"

Old Xu frowned deeply: "This... naturally belongs to the merchants. You are just porters."

"wrong."

Chen Yanzhou shook his finger. "What if we sign a contract with the merchant, so that nominally we 'buy' this batch of goods, and then 'sell' it to the recipient after it arrives at the destination? And during transportation, do we use the pretext of 'personal use' or 'charitable donation'?"

Old Xu fell silent: "This..."