The Martial Saint Started from Scavenging

"Squeak—"

The wooden door was pulled open, and a strange servant stood outside, bowing and scraping with a forced smile on his face.

It seems he also witnessed Ye Sheng's actions in crippling Du Qiang and the others that afternoon.

Behind him, the fat Taoist, Manager Pang, stood with his hands behind his back, staring at Ye Sheng expressionlessly.

His small eyes opened slightly, a glint of light flashing in them, making Ye Sheng feel uneasy.

Ye Sheng sensed through his qi and blood that the fat Taoist was not a martial artist, but the oppressive aura emanating from him made him feel very dangerous.

"Could this guy be a cultivator?" Ye Sheng wondered to himself.

"Ye Sheng, come with me."

Manager Pang spoke calmly, but his tone carried a hint of authority. He then waved for the servant who had led the way to leave.

Ye Sheng didn't say anything, just nodded silently, closed the door, and followed behind him.

The two walked one after the other along the path leading to the servants' quarters.

At this moment, the night was deep, and several lanterns hung on the trees by the roadside, casting long and short shadows of the two people in a dim yellow light.

They walked in silence. When they arrived at a room with a light on in the servants' quarters, Steward Pang pushed open the door and went inside.

"Come in."

Ye Sheng then went inside and closed the door behind him.

The room was simply furnished: a desk, two chairs, and a half-person-high cabinet in the corner.

After sitting down in the main seat behind the desk, Steward Pang pointed to the chair opposite him and said, "Please sit down."

Ye Sheng sat down as instructed, his back straight, his gaze calm as he met the other person's.

Manager Pang did not speak immediately. He picked up the purple clay teapot from the desk, poured himself a cup of hot tea, and slowly sipped it, as if he was carefully considering his words, or as if he was putting invisible pressure on Ye Sheng.

The rising aroma of tea blurred the complex expression on his chubby face.

"I am aware of what happened this afternoon." After a long pause, Steward Pang put down his teacup and spoke slowly.

Ye Sheng didn't even lift his eyelids, and calmly replied, "They attacked first, so I acted in self-defense."

"I know," Manager Pang nodded. "I know the character of those good-for-nothings like Du Qiang better than you do."

He paused, leaned forward slightly, and fixed his small eyes on Ye Sheng. His voice lowered slightly: "Actually, what I'm more curious about is that when the Lin family introduced you to my sect as a menial servant, they said that you and your younger brother were both ordinary commoners. I never imagined that in just a few months, you would have already joined the ranks of martial artists. I wonder when exactly you broke through to the entry-level martial artist realm?"

This question is crucial because the other party is probing their true intentions.

Ye Sheng knew very well that he must not mention that he was originally a refugee and that he only obtained his commoner status by relying on Lin Qingxue's forgery, otherwise he would definitely bring disaster to the Lin family.

Furthermore, one must not reveal that one became a martial artist by forcibly accelerating one's growth through taking pills, as doing so would only cause the other party to look down on one and even suspect the source of the pills.

After a moment of silence, he said slowly, in an almost self-deprecating tone, "I guess I was forced into it."

"Oh? Tell me about it." Manager Pang raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"To be honest, sir, my brother and I got into a feud with some thugs while we were at Shuilongdu. My brother was attacked and his leg was broken. Afterwards, we were chased and killed."

"In our moment of crisis, we were fortunate to receive a helping hand from Miss Lin, which allowed us to escape to Qingyun City, narrowly escaping death."

Ye Sheng's voice was calm as he continued, "When people are pushed to the brink, they will always unleash potential that they themselves have never realized they have."

"Perhaps I was just lucky. In those life-or-death moments, I managed to open up several meridians and improve my blood circulation, which allowed me to break through to the entry level of martial arts."

His explanation was half true and half false, yet it was reasonable.

After hearing this, Manager Pang looked at Ye Sheng with a complicated expression.

Although he was not a martial artist, he knew that the trials on the edge of life and death were often the best way to stimulate the body's potential, with effects far exceeding any elixir or magic pill, and might even awaken one's spiritual root, thus embarking on the path of cultivation.

Because he had spent many years at the bottom of the sect and was a cultivator in the early stage of Foundation Establishment, he had seen many servants grow into martial artists and a few servants advance to become cultivators.

"I see." Manager Pang nodded and said no more, seemingly believing him.

The atmosphere inside the room was somewhat heavy at this moment.

Manager Pang leaned back in his chair, staring at Ye Sheng, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as he pondered: What this boy just said is hard to verify. But he's merely a martial artist; if I were to forcibly use a soul-searching technique on him, he would either die or become an idiot. That would ruin my plan and offend the Lin family—a truly unwise move. I'll let him go for now, and keep a closer eye on his actions in the future.

Having made up his mind, he broke the silence and said, "Du Qiang and the others 'pay tribute' to me from the abandoned alchemy room every year. Although it's not something I do openly, it adds up to a considerable income."

Upon hearing this, Ye Sheng did not respond, but he knew that the main topic was about to be discussed.

"However……"

Manager Pang abruptly changed the subject, his eyes flashing with undisguised greed. "Those good-for-nothings are getting bolder and bolder, and their hands are filthy. What they hand over is just a drop in the ocean; they pocket the lion's share."

He paused, then snorted coldly, "I've wanted to replace them for a long time, but due to sect rules, I've lacked a pretext and haven't been able to find suitable candidates."

At this point, he turned his gaze to Ye Sheng.

Ye Sheng was perfectly clear-headed and thought to himself: It seems that this guy has his eye on my strength and wants me to replace Du Qiang and become his new tool for making money.

"What does the manager mean now?" Ye Sheng pretended to be confused even though he knew the answer.

"From today onwards, the Waste Pill Room is under your management," Steward Pang said, enunciating each word clearly. "You will take over Du Qiang's previous dealings. Seventy percent of the monthly 'harvest' from the Waste Pill Room will go to me, and the rest will be yours."

"Of course," he added, "you don't have to pay. But you should know what the consequences will be if your act of crippling a fellow disciple is reported to the sect's disciplinary hall."

This is a blatant threat, yet also an offer that cannot be refused.

Ye Sheng remained silent, pondering: If he agreed, he would be bound to this smiling tiger from then on. Judging from this man's appearance, he seemed like someone who would devour people without spitting out the bones. To conspire with him was tantamount to negotiating with a tiger for its skin. But if he didn't agree…

He looked at Steward Pang's somber face and knew he had no other choice.

"Okay, I agree," Ye Sheng nodded in response.

"Hahaha! That's awesome!"

Manager Pang immediately put on a smiling face, got up and walked over, patted him on the shoulder affectionately, and said, "I knew you were smart. Don't worry, from now on, you'll be guaranteed a good meal if you follow me."

"Manager, what should we do if Du Qiang's cousin comes looking for trouble with me in the future?" Ye Sheng asked.

"Hmph, that Du Tao is just a mere outer disciple at the seventh level of Qi Refining. What are you afraid of him for? Don't worry, there's nothing I, Pang Fu, can't do in the outer sect."

Manager Pang introduced himself and patted his chest to make a guarantee.

Upon hearing this, Ye Sheng stood up and clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Alright, then I'll ask Manager Pang to take good care of me from now on."

"Of course, of course." Pang Fu smiled so much that his eyes narrowed into slits.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps and a servant's panicked shouts came from outside the door.

"Manager! Manager Pang! Something terrible has happened!"

Pang Fu frowned, a hint of displeasure flashing across his face: "What are you yelling about in the middle of the night! Is the sky falling down?"

"It's...it's Du Qiang! Du Qiang...something happened to him!"

With a loud bang, the door was kicked open, and a servant tumbled in, his face full of terror.

"What happened to Du Qiang?" Pang Fu asked in a deep voice, his expression hardening.

"He...he's dead!" The servant pointed outside, his voice trembling.

"Just now, we found him dead next to pile number three of the pill residue! His whole body... his whole body was rotten, like he'd been eaten by some kind of poisonous creature, and his body was crawling with black worms. It was... so horrible!"

What? Dead?

Pang Fu's expression changed drastically, and he turned around abruptly to look at Ye Sheng.