From Beggar to Emperor: My Profession Has Its Own Characteristics

Zhu Yuan wanted to raise the porter's professional level to level three as soon as possible to unlock the second characteristic of the porter profession.

Furthermore, it is hoped that the characteristics of the second profession will be related to the upper body.

Otherwise, continuing like this would truly be torture.

You can't rely solely on your lower body.

Closing the ancient book in his mind, Zhu Yuan opened his eyes.

"Shall we continue?" Old Ma asked, looking at Zhu Yuan, whose chest was rising and falling slightly.

It was lunchtime, and the porters at the dock were scattered in twos and threes, squatting or sitting, drinking water and chatting. Only Zhu Yuan was still standing by the pile of goods, seemingly catching his breath.

"No."

Zhu Yuan shook his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

He felt a persistent soreness in his lower back. He knew he had to do things in moderation, and if he didn't rest and replenish his energy, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold on.

Fortunately, Old Ma was unaware of Zhu Yuan's inner thoughts. If he had known that such intense labor was only moderate in Zhu Yuan's eyes, even this usually taciturn old porter would probably have grumbled a bit more.

Everyone else assumes you have a background in martial arts.

Old Ma's gaze swept over Zhu Yuan's lower body.

Even if a martial artist doesn't ultimately become a true martial artist, the physical strength and physique they develop through training are still far superior to those of ordinary people.

"Not now, but that might not be the case in the future." Zhu Yuan smiled upon hearing this.

Meanwhile, he was calculating that if he could save a steady sixty or seventy coins a day, plus his existing savings, he would be able to raise enough money for the entrance fee to the martial arts school in ten days.

"So that's why you've been working so hard—to learn martial arts." At this moment, Old Ma finally understood why Zhu Yuan was risking his life for these goods.

Zhu Yuan was born to be a porter. Although Lao Ma had never practiced martial arts, he thought that if Zhu Yuan did learn martial arts in the future, he would definitely be very good at it.

"Come eat with me." After a while, Old Ma casually suggested, his gaze shifting to a few simple food stalls at the other end of the dock.

Without a second thought, Zhu Yuan immediately nodded and replied, "Okay, Uncle Ma."

Before heading to the food stall, Old Ma also called two porters.

Zhu Yuan naturally didn't recognize either of the two porters.

He only worked at the dock for a full day, and he rested very little while doing a lot of work.

He basically avoids unnecessary social interactions.

"This is your Uncle Song, Song Chenguang, and this is your Uncle Huang, Huang Lin," Old Ma said, pointing to the two men and introducing them in a calm voice.

Song Chenguang was a man around forty years old, of medium height, with a broad face, high cheekbones, tanned skin, and short stubble on his chin.

He wore a brown short coat with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms, and a worn-out cloth belt tied around his waist.

Huang Lin appeared to be a bit chubby, looked slightly older than Song Chenguang, had deep wrinkles around his eyes, and his eyelids drooped somewhat.

"Hello, Uncle Song, hello, Uncle Huang." Understanding Old Ma's intention, Zhu Yuan immediately greeted the two men respectfully, and introduced himself at the same time, "Uncles, my name is Zhu Yuan."

"Hey, you're the kid who never gets tired?" Song Chenguang grinned, revealing a set of slightly yellowed teeth.

He stepped forward, extended his large, fan-like hand, and patted Zhu Yuan's unsuspecting shoulder forcefully. "Your Uncle Huang and I have talked about you quite a bit. They said you could do forty-five rounds on the first day, and act like nothing happened on the second day. You're really something!"

"Hiss—" Zhu Yuan felt a jolt in his shoulder from the pat, which aggravated his soreness. He couldn't help but gasp for breath, and the muscles in his face twitched. He quickly said, "Uncle Song, I'm just an ordinary person. I get tired."

"Old Song, just talk, don't get physical. Look what you've done to this kid." Huang Lin frowned, his voice low but reproachful.

"I know, I know."

Seeing Zhu Yuan's grimacing, sour expression, Song Chenguang awkwardly withdrew his hand, chuckled twice, and wasn't angry.

The four of them walked together toward the food stall.

Song Chenguang and Huang Lin were clearly familiar with Lao Ma. The two talked a lot on the way, with Song Chenguang doing most of the talking and Huang Lin occasionally responding or adding a few words.

They chatted about which cargo ship was difficult to unload at the dock that day, which manager had scolded whom, and also some everyday family matters.

Zhu Yuan followed beside him, offering a few words of agreement when appropriate, his attitude respectful but not obsequious.

Only Old Ma walked a little behind, still silent and taciturn.

Song Chenguang and Huang Lin clearly understood why Lao Ma had specifically introduced Zhu Yuan to them.

Halfway there, Old Ma saw that Zhu Yuan had become somewhat familiar with the two men before he spoke.

"Zhu Yuan, it's harvest time in Qingyang County now, so there's a lot of work at the docks. Once this period is over, it will be the off-season, and there won't be as much work. At that time, you can work with your Uncle Huang and Uncle Song; they will take you under their wing."

The flat terrain and the Luochun River waterway have given Qingyang County the potential to become a major grain-producing county, but they also mean that there is a lot of work at the docks during the busy farming season, while the off-season is much less busy.

Old Ma is an experienced worker who settles wages monthly, so the off-season at the dock has little impact on him; in fact, it makes him even more relaxed.

However, for newcomers like Zhu Yuan who are paid by the baggage, their income will drop sharply during the off-season.

Zhu Yuan immediately understood. This was Old Ma paving the way for him after hearing that he needed to save money as soon as possible to learn martial arts, introducing him to more ways and connections to make money in the porter business.

He felt a warmth in his heart and quickly nodded solemnly, "I understand, Uncle Ma."

"I'm talking to Old Ma."

Song Chenguang, standing to the side, winked and nudged Lao Ma with his elbow, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Is Zhu Yuan your illegitimate son? You're so good to him, even worrying that he won't have food to eat during the off-season."

"Old Song, what nonsense are you talking about!" Huang Lin glared at Song Chenguang, his tone serious. "Old Ma and Zhu Yuan don't even look alike, so don't make jokes like this."

"Old Huang, you're really no fun," Song Chenguang said, pursing his lips. "Can't you tell I'm joking?"

"That kind of joke is inappropriate," Huang Lin said, shaking his head in disapproval.

Old Ma walked behind, ignoring Song Chenguang's teasing, his face remaining expressionless.

The four of them arrived at a simple food stall by the dock.

Zhu Yuan spoke only after the three elders had finished ordering.

"Give me three bowls of mixed grain porridge and a dish of pickled vegetables."

A bowl of mixed grain porridge costs one coin, and a dish of pickled vegetables costs two coins.

Zhu Yuan spent five coins on this lunch.

"Three bowls of mixed grain porridge, Zhu Yuan, are you sure you can eat them?" Huang Lin looked at Zhu Yuan in surprise.

"Of course, Uncle Huang," Zhu Yuan replied, then exaggeratedly added, "I'm so hungry I could swallow a whole cow."

"Haha, so young and already knows how to brag." Song Chenguang gave Zhu Yuan a thumbs up. "But I like your Uncle Song. I'm telling you, Lao Huang, look at the work Zhu Yuan did this morning. It's normal that he eats a lot."

"Indeed." Old Ma nodded in agreement.