Chapter 33: The Edict of Words

Before long, Bi Kai, Jiao Kun, Qian Wende, and Wu Hao also came out and spoke with Qi Chen and the others about the matter. Bi Kai was easygoing; seeing that Zhuang Jin agreed, he did too. Jiao Kun, Qian Wende, and Wu Hao, however, all looked troubled.

Jiao Kun had no money; the two coins he’d borrowed from Qi Chen were already spent on medicine for his Black Fiend Palm, and now he truly didn’t have a single coin left. Wu Hao, due to his family circumstances, simply didn’t want to waste money. As for Qian Wende, he could afford the meal, but since Jiao Kun had previously asked him for money, and he’d insisted he had none, to take out money now would make him look bad in front of Jiao Kun—though Jiao Kun had long suspected Qian Wende had money and just didn’t want to lend it, it would still be quite unsightly.

Qi Chen had anticipated all this. “How about this: there are eight of us, everyone puts in fifty coins, totaling four silver. Let’s base the meal on that. Whoever has spare can put in; if you don’t, I’ll make up the difference.”

He felt, as the head of the dormitory, he ought to be generous, and if he had to take a loss, so be it.

As soon as he said this, Qian Wende’s face lit up with delight. “Boss, you’re magnanimous!”

Jiao Kun no longer felt awkward and gave Qi Chen a grateful look. “Thank you, boss.”

Only Wu Hao still hesitated, unwilling to take advantage of Qi Chen and reluctant to go.

“Haozi, it’s not easy for us to gather together and share a dormitory—it’s fate. Don’t isolate yourself outside. Besides, the boss said he’ll cover for those who can’t afford it, so just come along and enjoy yourself.”

Qian Wende, worried Wu Hao wouldn’t go and spoil the fun, pressed him urgently, half dragging him along.

The group went out, and just outside the outer courtyard, they suddenly heard a voice full of unwillingness and pleading.

...

“Sir, I’m about to break through the Martial Artist bottleneck—just a little more! Give me two more days…no, one day, and I’ll surely succeed!”

Today was November thirtieth, the end of the month. For Zhuang Jin and his batch of martial students, those who hadn’t become official Martial Artists by today would have to leave. Clearly, this was one of the unwilling martial students.

No matter how he pleaded, desperate and hoarse, the guard at the gate—a servant with a single mark—remained indifferent, even impatiently waving his hand. Two porters came out at once and threw the man out.

“Bah!” The marked servant spat thickly at the man outside the gate. He’d seen countless like this every month: “A little short is still short. If you haven’t made it, you haven’t made it. Now you regret? Where were you before?”

...

Turning around and seeing Zhuang Jin’s group of eight coming out, the servant’s coldness melted away instantly, replaced by a friendly smile. He nodded and greeted them, even asking, “Heading out?”

—As the gate guard, he was well acquainted with the Shen family’s outer courtyard and knew Zhuang Jin’s group were the batch who had made it as official Martial Artists, several of whom had excellent talent.

Zhuang Jin and the others returned the greeting and went out. For a moment, they were all silent, the scene they had just witnessed weighing on their hearts, realizing that if they hadn’t become official Martial Artists, they too would have been expelled like that.

“Dezi, was that man from our dormitory?” Qi Chen suddenly asked.

“What do you mean our dormitory? We only have eight people, right?”

Qian Wende knew Qi Chen meant their dormitory from their martial student days but chose to play dumb, joking about the man. Afterward, his face showed a trace of disdain, sighing, “Those who never made it as official Martial Artists are now on a totally different level from us.”

“Different level? If I remember correctly, didn’t you ask him for food before?” Qi Chen retorted, clearly displeased with Qian Wende’s ingratitude.

Qian Wende froze but quickly recovered with a forced smile, defending himself, “Boss, a hero doesn’t bring up the past. That was before, wasn’t it?”

“Before? How long ago? More than ten days ago…”

“Alright, alright, let’s not let an outsider ruin our brotherhood. I remember that guy used to badmouth Jinzi behind his back,” said Xiong Lei.

The others turned to look at Zhuang Jin.

Zhuang Jin’s expression was unchanged. No wonder he’d found the man’s face familiar—it turned out they’d trained together. After the beggar incident, many had spoken ill of him; he didn’t even remember the man’s name.

“Yes, he was from Martial Practice Ground No. 1, I remember. Brother Zhuang always trained extra, and that guy often muttered behind his back… If he’d worked as hard as Brother Zhuang, maybe he’d have become an official Martial Artist and stayed,” Bi Kai remarked, thinking about how his own boasting had brought him trouble—was that not self-inflicted too? His expression grew complicated.

“If you ask me, that guy just wasn’t destined for it. I never trained extra, just practiced the standard stances, and didn’t I make it in sixteen days?” Jiao Kun said, curling his lip.

“Not everyone has your talent, Brother Jiao. Those with excellent martial aptitude are rare; most rely on hard work,” Lin Hong replied, subconsciously glancing at Wu Hao, who had clearly left a deep impression on him. He paused, then added, “Of course, it’s best to have both talent and diligence—that’s how you go far in martial arts.”

His words seemed to gently advise Jiao Kun.

...

Whether Jiao Kun understood or not, Wu Hao certainly did. Seeing Lin Hong’s glance, he smiled sheepishly. “Brother Lin’s right, I agree.”

Jiao Kun, hearing Wu Hao’s agreement, felt a sudden irritation. “Agree with what? Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘It’s all fate; not a bit is up to us’?”

“When I was a kid, the fortune-teller said I was destined for wealth and glory. Look—I became an official Martial Artist in just sixteen days. If you ask me, people should accept their fate,” he said smugly.

“Fate?” Zhuang Jin heard this and shook his head inwardly. If he’d accepted fate, he’d still be a beggar, unaware of his own golden opportunity!

So, accept fate?

He was not one to believe in such things. Compared to resigning himself, he believed more in human will overcoming the heavens. If destiny opposed him, he would fight against it and snatch victory.

Jiao Kun, seeing Zhuang Jin disagree, was about to say more.

“Enough,” Xiong Lei interjected, smoothing things over. “Fate—believe it or not, it’s up to you. Let’s talk about what we’re going to eat. Four silver—will that get us chicken, duck, fish, and meat?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be plenty! Just, Dezi, watch your manners. Every time we eat at the dining hall, you dive in like you’ve been starving for days. Today we’re eating out—don’t let outsiders laugh at us official Martial Artists,” Qi Chen said, stressing the words “official Martial Artists,” clearly mocking Qian Wende’s earlier ‘different level’ remark.

Qian Wende kept smiling as if he hadn’t noticed. “That’s impossible. If I embarrass myself, at least it’s only in front of you brothers, never outsiders. Otherwise, I’d lose out, wouldn’t I?”

“Go on, who wants to watch you? Every time I see Dezi eat, I grab my bowl, afraid he’ll eat right out of it!”

“Hahaha!”

Everyone burst into laughter.

...