From Beggar to Emperor: My Profession Has Its Own Characteristics

Xiaoyang Street.

Before arriving at Zhao Tiezhu's house, Zhu Yuan bought three white steamed buns.

Looking at the white steamed bun in Zhu Yuan's hand, Zhao Tiezhu suddenly remembered something: if Zhu Yuan came to his house for dinner, there really wouldn't be enough food.

Zhu Yuan hadn't even thought about this before he bought the white steamed buns.

"Zhu Yuan, you are so thoughtful."

"You can do it too, you just need to think about it more," Zhu Yuan replied with a smile.

"Forget it." Zhao Tiezhu shook his head. "When I think about too many things, I feel dizzy and very tired."

They arrived at Zhao Tiezhu's residence.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, Zhao Tiezhu's father, Zhao Dazhu, sat on an old wooden stool in the dim light of an oil lamp.

Hearing the noise, he slowly raised his head.

Zhao Tiezhu strode through the door, his voice brimming with excitement: "Father, Mother, Zhu Yuan came to our house today!"

Zhu Yuan followed behind, gently clutching three white steamed buns in his hand. He looked up at Zhao Dazhu, a polite smile curving his lips.

"Uncle Zhao, and Auntie, my name is Zhu Yuan."

Zhao Tiezhu's mother lifted the curtain and came out from the inner room.

When she heard her son say that Zhu Yuan had come to their house, she was originally thinking of going out to buy some steamed buns and the like. But when she saw that Zhu Yuan had brought them, she was taken aback at first, and then she spoke up.

"It's time to eat."

As she spoke, she brought out a pot of stewed cabbage and a large bowl of glistening braised pork.

Ever since Zhao Tiezhu started practicing martial arts, their meals have been quite good.

High-quality pork is available from time to time, no longer just offal.

"Zhu Yuan." Zhao Tiezhu's father, Zhao Dazhu, had already stood up. "Come here, let me take a look."

"Okay, Uncle Zhao."

"You're a good young man," Zhao Dazhu said again, patting Zhu Yuan's shoulder with his rough hand. "Hmm, not bad at all."

Zhu Yuan straightened his back slightly: "Uncle Zhao, you flatter me."

"Tiezhu said you're very smart," Zhao Dazhu sat back down on the stool. "His natural talent is better, but his progress isn't as fast as yours."

"Tiezhu is not bad either," Zhu Yuan replied softly, glancing at Zhao Tiezhu, who was grinning beside him.

Zhao Tiezhu scratched the back of his head and interjected, "Dad, what you're saying is true, I have been trying!"

The two chatted like this, with Zhao Tiezhu occasionally chiming in.

Zhao Dazhu actually knew quite a lot about Zhu Yuan.

He had Zhao Tiezhu find out all this information.

He knew that Zhu Yuan was not from Qingyang County, but a migrant from other places. He had been a beggar before, and after obtaining a household registration in Qingyang County, he became a porter. Finally, he saved enough money to learn martial arts.

Honestly, he really admired Zhu Yuan for being able to learn martial arts at his own expense without the help of his family.

Zhu Yuan also knew that Zhao Dazhu understood him, because he knew that Zhao Tiezhu would basically not ask these questions; these questions were mostly what his parents wanted to know about him.

Given Zhao Tiezhu's personality, if he were Zhao Tiezhu's parents, they would also worry about his choice of friends.

"Zhu Yuan, if you want to come and work as a helper, you're welcome anytime." Later in the conversation, Zhao Dazhu brought this up, looking at Zhu Yuan with gentle eyes.

"Uncle Zhao, can I help out with the slaughtering?" Upon hearing this, Zhu Yuan immediately looked up, his eyes fixed intently on Zhao Dazhu, his tone filled with anticipation.

Zhao Dazhu paused, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. Then, as if he understood something, he put down his bowl and chopsticks, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Oh?" He paused, looking into Zhu Yuan's eyes. "You're thinking about the future?"

"More or less." Zhu Yuan nodded, his expression turning serious. "Uncle Zhao, you should be aware of the current situation. Even if we become martial artists, things will likely remain peaceful for a long time."

Zhu Yuan believes that killing pigs is really important for a butcher, and it should be the most likely way to activate the profession.

"Yes, it's good to think about the future." Zhao Dazhu nodded with an approving look on his face. "Come with me."

He immediately stood up and said to Zhao Tiezhu, who was still engrossed in his meal, "Tiezhu, you can continue eating."

"Okay, Dad."

With his mouth full of food, Zhao Tiezhu mumbled a reply, glanced up at the two men, and then continued to focus on the food in front of him.

Zhao Dazhu led Zhu Yuan through the side door of the house and pushed open the back door.

A wave of heat, carrying a strong stench of blood, hit him, causing Zhu Yuan to instinctively hold his breath.

At this moment, a large pot was set up in the middle of the courtyard. The water in the pot was a bit murky. The firewood in the stove had long since burned out. The row of iron hooks at the base of the wall was particularly eye-catching.

Zhao Dazhu walked straight to the chopping board against the wall, where several knives of different sizes were laid out.

He picked up a sharp knife about a foot long, with a slender blade and a sharp tip that gleamed coldly.

He picked up the whetstone and began sharpening the knife with steady, practiced movements.

Zhu Yuan's gaze was drawn to a wooden basin next to the cutting board. At the bottom of the basin was a layer of dark red, dried, and hardened substance, which was the blood scabs left over from the accumulation of time.

As Zhao Dazhu slowly sharpened his knife, without looking up, he asked, "Zhu Yuan, are you afraid of blood?"

His voice sounded remarkably calm amidst the sound of sharpening the knife.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Yuan thought about it seriously.

He had seen blood in videos from his past life, and he had also hit people in this life, with the other person's eyelids bleeding slightly, but he had never actually slaughtered a large living creature with his own hands.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"That's right, you don't know." Zhao Dazhu stopped sharpening his knife, looked up at Zhu Yuan, and a mysterious smile appeared on his face.

Zhu Yuan was taken aback, not quite understanding what Zhao Dazhu was trying to say, and a puzzled look appeared on his face.

Subsequently, Zhao Dazhu provided an answer based on his own experience:

"A person who is afraid of blood cannot kill a pig; that's cowardly, their hands will tremble."

"Even someone who isn't afraid of blood can't kill a pig; they're just reckless and easily make things worse by not knowing their own strength."

"Someone like you who doesn't know anything, whose mind isn't yet fixed, is the easiest to teach and the easiest to find the right approach."

He quickly picked up the sharpened knife from the cutting board, wiped the blade with a cloth, turned the handle around, and handed it to Zhu Yuan.

"Give it a try and see if you can hold it or if it feels comfortable."

Zhu Yuan took a deep breath, stepped forward, and solemnly accepted it with both hands.

The handle is made of wood, soaked in sweat and grease for who knows how many years. It feels smooth to the touch, yet fits the hand perfectly.

The blade was heavier than he had expected, its weight commanding respect, and its tip was slightly upturned, gleaming coldly.

"The pig will be slaughtered the day after tomorrow morning."

Zhao Dazhu looked at Zhu Yuan's posture as he held the knife, a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

"If you want to slaughter a pig, you can come and watch first, and then see if you want to give it a try."

"Thank you, Uncle Zhao." Zhu Yuan held the knife in both hands, bowed slightly, and thanked him sincerely, his eyes gleaming with eager anticipation.

He knew that the opportunity to unlock the Butcher class might come the day after tomorrow.